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halfvalid · 9 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you.

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal.

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew.

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue.

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom.

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement.

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?”

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?”

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!”

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.”

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.”

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing.

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market.

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?”

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.”

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.”

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.”

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.”

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth.

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked.

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.”

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade.

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.”

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—”

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.”

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back.

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.”

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?”

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes.

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!”

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back.

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.”

“I don’t see why we can’t just—”

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him.

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position.

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store.

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face.

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—”

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart.

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now.

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.”

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think.

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this.

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe.

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat.

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.”

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?”

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.”

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would.

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly.

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point.

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with.

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more.

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development.

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.”

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him.

“I am not.”

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.”

“Leave me alone,” you muttered.

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.”

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?”

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.”

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed.

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.”

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.”

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?”

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.”

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.”

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered.

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue.

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit.

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured.

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered.

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth.

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back.

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation.

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?”

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.”

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours.

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.”

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember.

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties.

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered.

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.”

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length.

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point.

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss.

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge.

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite.

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him.

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning.

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side.

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.”

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it.

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage.

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.”

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that.

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2K notes · View notes

mshroom1e · 18 days

Text

ೃ⁀➷ Baby My Phone

type: headcanons

listen to me yap about what phones i’d think twst characters would have.

2.2k words

Characters: NRC students

╰┈➤ Riddle

Uses a landline.

╰┈➤ Ace

He uses an iPhone but it’s one of those broken, screen protector hanging off, yellow clear case iPhone 8s.

He still thinks his phone is better than an Android and refuses to switch.

His wallpaper is one of those with a massive Nike tick and a “just do it” in a neon red camouflage pattern.

He hasn’t changed it since he was 12.

-2/10

╰┈➤ Deuce

He has a Samsung for sure.

It’s not one of the most expensive ones like an S24 Ultra but it’s reliable.

He’s got a pretty average phone case. It’s navy blue and heavy-duty, making his phone practically indestructible.

His wallpaper is probably yellow with a cartoonish picture of a chick breaking out of an egg.

Pretty simple.

Distinguished taste for an equally distinguished gentleman.

9/10

╰┈➤ Trey

He has a Samsung S10.

I don’t know why, but he just does.

I can also see him using one of those grandpa wallet cases where he carries everything inside.

His phone case doubles as a purse with the bits and bobs he puts in there.

It’s literally a fanny pack that just happens to have space to hold a phone.

Need a napkin? Hold on, let him get it from his phone case real quick.

It’s really handy but a little ridiculous with the amount of stuff he carries in there.

The battery life is hammered thanks to the hours of temple run his siblings play on it whenever he goes home for holidays.

His wallpaper is probably a picture of his siblings, which is cute.

4/10.

Would be higher if it wasn’t for the silly wallet case.

╰┈➤ Cater

We’ve already seen his phone multiple times in game, so I don’t think I have much to say.

His wallpaper is bold, like the phone case he uses.

It’s not exactly ugly, but it definitely suits him.

It’s just not something most people would want to put on their phones.

He’s 100% an iPhone user but he’s the type that gets the new model that comes out every year.

Either that or he’s using one of his sister’s hand-me-downs that’s an iPhone 13. (just like me fr).

6/10

If it wasn’t for that peculiar phone case, I’d rate it higher.

╰┈➤ Leona

I can see him using a Samsung S24 Ultra.

He barely uses it, though.

Most of the time, he tosses the phone at his nephew to keep him distracted when he sees him at home.

Because of that, he’s got a home screen full of kids' mobile games like Talking Tom and Subway Surfers.

The phone’s got a small crack in the screen from when Cheka dropped it but it wasn’t a big deal so Leona never bothered to get it fixed or replaced.

He’s got a leopard print phone case and his wallpaper is a selfie Reggie took with him sleeping and set it on his lock screen that he never bothered to change.

7/10

Again, the phone case is a no from me.

╰┈➤ Ruggie

He uses a Samsung too.

It’s an older model, like an S10+.

It’s a gift from Leona that he tossed at Ruggie one day.

Ruggie is pretty grateful for it since he was wondering how he’d contact his grandmother back at home without a phone since he wouldn’t be able to get a durable one until a while of saving up.

He takes pretty good care of it and there’s no scratches or cracks.

His wallpaper matches the selfie of himself and Leona that he set as the latter’s lock screen.

He got himself a heavy-duty phone case just to make sure it doesn’t get damaged.

10/10.

Totally not biased.

╰┈➤ Jack

He’s an iPhone user, probably sporting an iPhone 12 Pro Max. You can’t blame him for needing a large phone when he’s got pretty big hands.

He uses a clear case that’s somehow got no yellowing to it and his phone is green. It’s got a pretty wrecked battery life thanks to the younger sibling x phone syndrome.

His little sister killed the battery life with her 500 cumulative hours on Roblox and Among Us.

He doesn’t really mind since he doesn’t use his phone more than like 4 times a day.

8/10

Pretty cool.

╰┈➤ Azul

A tasteful Samsung user.

He’s one of those people who thinks iPhones are a scam and refuses to buy into it, like the classy businessman he is.

(he just has no idea how to use one).

Idk if Merfolk have waterproof phones or just communicate with echolocation but let’s pretend that the fish people have phones too.

He sports a Samsung Z Flip5 in lavender. He also has a baby blue phone case with a little seashell on it.

The twins tease him about his cutesy design choice but he shrugs it off since he knows it looks good.

It’s a shame he rarely uses the phone when he’s not going to send emails, do schoolwork and post on the lounge’s social media, though.

He also watches food ASMR videos. His wallpaper is a picture of the sea in the usual daytime lighting.

10/10

Very nice

╰┈➤ Jade

Another Android Avenger using a Samsung S22 in sage green.

His phone is in pretty good condition.

Though, he’s got a few spots of soil trapped between his screen protector and the end of his phone case.

There’s only like a single, tiny crack on his screen protector for dropping it on the floor face first when in the Botanical Garden talking to his little plants.

Can’t really blame him since he looks up tutorials when handling new spores. His phone case is transparent with (you guessed it) a pattern of little mushrooms littered on the back.

His wallpaper is a pic of him and Floyd when they were in their first year at NRC. It’s a strangely cute phone for someone as shady as Jade.

7/10

Nice, but the mushrooms r kinda overkill.

╰┈➤ Floyd

His phone doesn’t have a single crack on it.

He’s someone who takes really good care of his stuff and has a bunch of screen protectors since he knows how prone he is to dropping and accidentally throwing his phone.

His battery is fried tho since he’s notorious for playing a bunch of those silly mobile games like Fill the Fridge or Crowd City.

When he isn’t tormenting people with his deadly hugs, he’s sat perched in a corner gargoyle style with his eyes glazed over as he plays Block Blast with a score of 10,000.

Floyd’s pretty diverse with his phone case and he changes it depending on how he feels that day. Most of the time, he goes for his pale green one with an eel drawing on it, like the bag he used during the Camp Vargas event.

His wallpaper is either matching with Jade’s or a random photo of the sea he took a few days ago.

10/10

Very cool

╰┈➤ Kalim

Gets the newly released iPhone every year.

He’s not that bad though, since he gives his old one to his sibling and they pass it on to the next sibling like One For All.

His phone has no cracks on it too. He makes sure to take good care of it since he knows it’s gonna be his younger sibling’s phone in about a year and he doesn’t want them to have to use a broken phone.

He’s just nice like that. His phone case is orange with little peach circles dotted all around the back.

He’s another notorious mobile gamer with his number 1 game being Where’s My Water. His lock screen is a particularly nice-looking spread from one of the many parties he’s had over at his dorm.

10/10

Kalim is the best

╰┈➤ Jamil

Humble Samsung S21 user.

He may or may have not opted for this brand out of spite after Kalim suggested he get an iPhone so they could easily AirDrop stuff to each other.

(Quick Share is better anyway)

Isn’t much of a mobile gamer but he’s found a second home on AITA communities on Reddit.

I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.

Jamil’s wallpaper is either something pretty like the sunset at his dorm or something silly like a selfie he took doing face masks with his sister.

As per sibling rules, however, he always makes sure to change his second lock screen any time he goes home.

She can’t know that he cares that much.

1000/10

Jamil favouritism.

╰┈➤ Vil

iPhone 15 pro max ultra mega sigma plus plus premium user.

Sometimes he has to record videos on his phone, so he needs one with the best camera and screen refresh rate possible.

It’s scary how he has no games on his phone except Wordscapes.

Believes screen time is terrible for your skin (is it?) and refuses to spend more than an hour on it outside of updating his different social media accounts.

His phone has no cracks and he hates greasy screens so best believe he’s got a glass cleaner wipe tucked into his pocket everywhere he goes.

His phone case is purple with a pop socket in the shape of a gold crown. His wallpaper is a picture of himself (ofc it is) from his favourite photoshoot.

6/10

Vil

╰┈➤ Rook

Samsung Soldier.

Rook uses a hefty Samsung Fold5.

Sometimes he needs a phone to do phone stuff and sometimes he needs a tablet to view a proper sized map of NRC for various uses I will not elaborate on for legal reasons.

When Vil takes away Epel’s phone, I imagine Rook allows Epel to use his phone to play Subway Surfers or Roblox.

Lives risky life and doesn’t use a case or a screen protector.

His phone somehow isn’t shattered especially after the billion times it’s fallen to the ground at the speed of light when he watches people from trees.

His lock screen is a Pinterest collage of Vil. 5/10

Vil

I refuse to elaborate

╰┈➤ Epel

Cracked Samsung S9.

Been using the same phone since he was 12 and refuses to let it go.

Anytime he falls, the phone disassembles and his battery goes flying.

He has to do a walk of shame each time to pick up his battery and put it back inside his phone.

Sometimes he stays up until 3 am playing COD mobile with Deuce and hides his phone under his pillow every time Vil opens his door to make sure the first years are asleep.

His wallpaper is a really cute selfie with him and the rest of the first year group. No phone case.

9/10

The battery thing is sadly relatable

╰┈➤ Idia

He uses a Samsung S24 Ultra.

Perfect mix of amazing performance as well as free rein to go into developer mode or download any 3rd party apps and modded games as much as he wishes.

Strongly believes Android is better.

When he isn’t raging at kids on Fortnite, he’s hidden in a corner of his room reading fanfic on AO3.

He will not tell a soul why his screen time shows that he has 6 hours every day on Samsung internet.

His phone case, I imagine would be a basic black with a little doodle of a cat on the back.

His wallpaper would be a pic of his PC setup when he thought it looked particularly cool.

10/10

Super techy.

╰┈➤ Ortho

He is the phone.

╰┈➤ Malleus

Uses a landline.

╰┈➤ Lilia

He has an iPhone 14 and no one can tell me it isn’t Kuromi-themed.

I’m talking lock screen, phone case, home screen, widgets, and icons.

It’s the black and pink/purple pallette that they both sport that makes my brain associate the two.

He’s got a few cracks and scratches from when he hangs upside down and his phone crashes to the ground like a missile.

One of his other lock screens is a pic of Silver when he was a baby and walking for the first time.

Don’t tell Silver, though.

8/10

Super cute.

╰┈➤ Silver

Lilia got him an iPhone 14 too so they could AirDrop things to each other and FaceTime every day for the year Lilia was at NRC without Silver.

Other than that, Silver rarely uses his phone.

His sleep timer is through the roof since he hibernates for most of the day.

He’s got a plain black phone case and everything on his phone is at default settings.

Including home and lock screens.

6/10

Very normal

╰┈➤ Sebek

Wanted to be cool like Malleus and have no phone since he does not wish to partake in the use of technology of human invention.

Instantly takes back that statement once he was out with the Diasomnia dorm and got lost in a marketplace.

Lilia and co had spent hours looking for him. After that, Lilia got him one of those “my first phone” gadgets for kids where the only contact numbers are emergency services and parents and the “parents” can easily access his location.

That way, they can prevent any accidents that creates their very own “Finding Sebek” franchise.

5/10

Very silly.

#twisted wonderland #gn reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #twist #twst shitpost #twst headcanons #twst hcs #disney twst #twst imagines #twst kalim #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland malleus #twst scenarios

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jennifer-jeong · 1 month

Text

[Fluff + Angst] [Wanderer x Reader] Human

SUMMARY You make him feel human.

CONTENT Angst to fluff, mentions of Wanderer's trauma, mentions of suicidal ideation, he's kinda mean to you at first, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR'S NOTE THIS IS WAS INSPIRED BY YOU MY POOKIE @thepurestgirll TY FOR BEING SO SWEET ESP BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE MANY MOOTS JFKDS;LAJ I love your fics and aesthetic and I hope to continue to see your content because I will always be here to love and support it >:)

Word Count: 854

Quiet sobs rack through the empty metal chamber. In the middle sits a man puppet of a man. Clutching the electro gnosis to his chest as his tears pelt the cold floor. Wasn’t this all he ever wanted? He finally has a “heart,” he should feel human, loved, and fit in now, right? But why is he crying? Why does he still feel hollow? Why does he want to give it all up to just be a normal human? Why did his mother create him this way just to throw him aside and make him suffer even more? Why not just have killed him long ago? Should he do it himself? Be free of this wretched body? Be free of all the earthly pain?

So many questions swirled in his mind. His gentle soul has been beat and battered to the point where he doesn’t know the meaning of peace anymore. He’s been alive for so long, chasing the same answer, the same goal. Yet, here he is. So many questions and not a single fucking answer.

Even after all that extra bullshit with Nahida, the traveler, and Irminsul, he only got bits and pieces of answers he needed. He was still lost and hurting, not that he’d ever admit that. So naturally he’s a complete ass to you when all you’re trying to do is help. You’re another adventurer and you often help the traveler when needed. You witnessed a good amount of Wanderer’s tragic journey in Sumeru and afterwards asked Nahida (his mom) if it would be a good idea to try to talk to him. She said yes but that it’d be quite… difficult.

You persevered, though. Through every insult thrown your way, all the times he ignored you, and even the times his attitude almost got you hurt when adventuring. After weeks of it, he found himself here, crying, but this time, in your arms.

He was yelling at you like he usually does but this time it was because you almost got crushed by debris while you two were out on combat commissions. He was telling you how stupid you were, how it would’ve gotten you killed, and how he… couldn’t let it happen. You smiled at him, hearing him say something caring for the first time since you started this whole mission of yours. You walk towards him slowly as he continues to insult you.

“You stupid humans, you never think before you act. Imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t call out to you to warn you. You-… You’d be dead! I’d spite you because of it! You and your human body, so fucking fragile. Why did I ever want to be like your kind anyways?”

As you close the distance, he gets panicked and confused, shouting at you.

“Why are you even still here anyways?! Isn’t all this too much for you? Why would you want to help someone like me? Don’t you know I’m not human? Why would you want me here? Why would you want to stay? W-why…”

You reach out your arms to slowly envelop him in a hug as his tears well in his eyes. He puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back lightly as if he didn’t want the contact, but he was barely putting up a fight. You both knew that if he didn’t want you to touch him, you wouldn’t even be able to.

“Why… do you even care about me,” he croaked out as his voice started to crack.

“Because I see all the good in you, and I want you to let others see it as well,” you say gently as you pull him close, arms around his waist.

He feels his emotions finally boil over as waves of sadness wash over him. His legs fail under him and you lower the two of you to the grass. He buries his head into your shoulder, sobbing harder as your warmth permeates his body that has only known the cold for so so many years. His arms clutch your head as he stains your shoulder with tears.

You feel so warm. You feel so human. It makes him feel human.

You’ve been taking such good care of him and he doesn’t think he deserves it, but he doesn’t voice it to you, at least not now. You let him cry it out while patting his back. You imagine he hasn’t ever been comforted while crying before and it’s what’s making him cry harder.

You two end the afternoon with him exhausted and you offer to let him rest his head on your legs. You pat his hair as he drifts into sleep, feeling safe for the first time in a long while. The sun warms both your bodies and you bask in it.

You two probably have a lot to talk about when he wakes up. But you stay silent for now. Enjoying the peace that he rarely gets to have. It’s a long healing journey ahead of you two but this puppet man knows that he wouldn’t rather embark on it with anyone else.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #j's silly ramblings #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #reader x wanderer #reader x scaramouche #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer angst #scaramouche angst #wanderer fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst

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rodolfoparras · 8 months

Note

What about old man reader?? Idk maybe with price or other CoD characters

Can I just say before I wrote this I was profusely apologizing bc no matter how much I loved the concept of old man reader I couldn’t conjure up a piece for it and as I was apologizing I went “but I’d love for someone to write old man reader with price…” and I kept talking until it actually turned into a Drabble I cannot 😭

Now this isn’t like my old man price drabbles bc I feel like if I were try to recreate? The idea you’d just get the same Drabble but in a different form so yeah 🏃🏻‍♂️

Thinking about price meeting a Captain from another squad which is you, and whatever he feels in your presence he chalks up to admiration.

You’ve had a long and successful career in the army it’s no wonder he would admire a man like you at least that’s what he says to soap when the Scotsman teases him about his little crush on you

However no matter how much he wants it to be just admiration he can’t help but think how attractive you look taking charge whether it be in a debriefing, out on the filed or even during a training session with your team

And sure while he can say that he’s just honored that such a busy man like you wants to spend your free time with him, he cant help but also feel something akin to butterflies in his stomach when you peak your head into his office offering to take him to wherever his heart may desire to go that day

And sure while it’s your job to care for everyone in your squad he can’t help but feel his neck and cheeks burn when you have a protective arm around his waist, or when you press your chest flush against his back to cover for him, or when your eyes intensely follow his form while the two of you are out on a mission

Eventually it all bubbles over one late night in his office, when he’s pushing his chair away from the pile of paper work the two of you had been doing, fingers rubbing at his temple to ease the headache that’s making itself known and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease up the knots.

You see this and immediately offer to massage him but he vehemently denies your offer, feeling his neck ears and cheeks burn at the sheer thought of it. However you beg him to let you help telling him that you know how things can ache when you get to that age while rolling your chair over to him.

When he turns his head to meet your gaze, ready to explain how you’re not that old, he realizes just how close you are now, a hair, if not less than that, away from your lips.

And before you know of it, the two of you kiss and kiss and kiss. You easily scoop him up in your arms and carry him over to the couch that he keeps in his office and god if he doesn’t preen at how easily you pick him up, almost like he weights nothing before you put him down gently like he’s made of glass, like he didn’t kill men with his bare hands

And before you even think of seeing him naked you touch and press every sensitive spot on his body leaving him shaking in the sheets like you’ve already wrecked him.

Spitball w/ me?

#scribbles #alec answers #also anonie so SOSOS sorry for the wait #I was thinking of a suitable plot and then afterwards I was just on a roller coaster of emotions bc of my meds #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #bottom male character #sub male character #with that being said I bid yall goodnight #it’s 7am💀

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

Text

Five Times Vigilante Definitely Does Not Have Feelings (and the One Time He Does)

Characters: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x f!reader

CW: Crude language; yearning.

Word Count: 3982

Adrian Chase will tell anyone: he doesn’t have emotions like people do. He doesn’t feel sad or angry or embarrassed. When Peacemaker gave him the nickname “Thimble,” he certainly didn’t cry. When Peacemaker was sent to prison, he certainly didn’t feel lonely.

Not having emotions is what makes him a more evolved human.

And yet, when ARGUS springs Peacemaker and sets up a black ops outfit in Evergreen, Adrian finds himself toeing the line of feelings. He doesn’t have emotions like people do, but he comes awfully close a handful of times…until he crosses the line entirely.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Vulnerable

As the Vigilante, Adrian gets hurt all the time. He’s become proficient at stitching up his own wounds. His body is littered with the scars of his own handiwork.

But when Goff tortures him for information, and when the ARGUS team comes to his and Peacemaker’s rescue, he finds himself missing half of a pinkie toe. It’s the most important toe on the human body, and he’ll probably never walk again…and no one seems to care.

Except for you. In the van as they return to headquarters, you sit across from him, watching him as he studies his mangled foot. You murmur something that sounds sympathetic, but he barely hears it over Peacemaker laughing at him.

At headquarters, you look at him and jerk your head in the direction of the back office.

“I can stitch you up, if you want,” you offer.

He starts to shake his head, but the mean blonde woman—Harcourt, her name is—makes an offhand comment about your superior patch-up abilities, so he accepts your help. He limps painfully behind you, follows you into a room that has been converted into a rough sort of exam room and budget clinic.

“Hop up on the table,” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t trust you—or any of your team—he does as you say. It’s clumsy. He hurts in a hundred different places: his half-amputated toe, his electrocuted crotch, all the scrapes and bruises from the fight with Cobra Kai.

“I won’t take off my mask,” he warns you. “I take my secret identity very seriously. If you saw my face, I’d have to kill you.”

“Duly noted,” you reply dryly. “But I only need to see your foot.”

He pulls off his boot and regards his mangled half-pinkie toe sadly. You pull on a pair of latex gloves and turn on a bright lamp, angling it at his bare foot.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say as you prod the wound gently. “In fact, you really didn’t lose anything but a couple layers of skin.”

“The blade was as dull as fuck,” he replies.

You wheel your stool over to a cabinet, then pull out some supplies: needle and thread, disinfectant, gauze and tape. Then you wheel back over to him and set to work.

The mean blonde woman was right—you’re quick, efficient. He looks down at your bent head as you stitch him up, and he sees that your needlework is better than his own. He doubts he’ll even have much of a scar once it heals.

But it’s the strange feeling that creeps over him: makes his vision waver, makes him feel a little light-headed. Your hands are deft but also gentle. Adrian can’t remember ever being touched so gently. Maybe when he was really small. Maybe his mom was gentle like that when he was so small that he can’t remember it now. It makes him break out in goosebumps. He shudders at the touch of your warm hand bracing his foot, and you misunderstand the involuntary gesture.

“Almost done,” you murmur, and a moment later you tie off the last stitch and snip the thread. You wrap his toe in gauze, pat his knee softly in a reassuring way. Then you straighten up and ask if there’s any other injuries he needs patched up.

“Goff electrocuted me,” he blurts out. “With a car battery.”

You look at him, level, but the corner of your mouth quirks in a near-smile. “You want me to look at that for you?”

“Oh, no. No. No, I just wanted to mention it. I’m not asking you to look at it.” He’s grateful for the mask; he can feel his face heating up at the idea of taking off his suit in front of you, and the sudden flush confuses him. Irritates him. Something about the thought of being exposed makes his stomach churn in a way he doesn’t understand.

You hum thoughtfully, then turn back to the cabinet of supplies. You rummage around, then pull out a small white tube that you hand him.

“Antibiotic gel for cuts and burns,” you say. “You can put a cool cloth on…well, any burns you may have. If there’s blistering, don’t pop them.”

“Okay.”

“And, you know…if you have any lingering side effects of being electrocuted, you should see a specialist.”

Vigilante reaches down and pulls his boot back on, but already his toe feels better. “What sort of side effects?” he asks.

He looks up at you in time to see that same half-smile. You peel off your gloves, toss them in the trash.

“I can imagine where you were electrocuted,” you reply. “So if those parts don’t typically work the way you’re used to, see a real doctor.”

Adrian Chase is not good at nuance or subtlety. “Huh?”

You blink at him before you say, “if you can’t get or maintain an erection, see a urologist.”

“Oh.” He blinks too, behind his visor. “Okay.”

You turn to leave the room but then glance over your shoulder before you do. “Thanks for your help tonight,” you say. “The mission was a success because of you.”

Neither Vigilante nor Adrian Chase ever get any thanks. He flushes even hotter under his mask, and he grumbles in reply, uncomfortable to be seen, to be recognized for the first time.

To be vulnerable.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Embarrassed

The next afternoon, he’s at Peacemaker’s trailer, helping him clean up from when the police tossed the place. They are blasting Guns and Roses, drinking beer…it’s like the old days, almost.

A knock at the door then, and Adrian has only a second to pull on his mask before you stroll in.

“Hey, Chris. Vigilante.” You nod in greeting, then reach into your bag to pull out a thick manila folder. You hand it to Peacemaker.

“Murn wanted me to bring this by. It’s the latest intel we got from Goff’s place.”

You stand there as Chris takes the folder and sinks down onto his couch, already paging through the information. Vigilante stands there too, awkward, so he crosses his arms to keep from fidgeting. There’s a long stretch of silence once the Guns and Roses record ends, and Vigilante struggles with silence.

“I got hard last night,” he tells you. “And this morning too.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Peacemaker sputters. “She doesn’t want to hear that!”

“She mentioned it last night!”

Peacemaker scoffs, twists his face into an expression of disbelief. “Yeah, I’m sure she mentioned your dick last night. Sure. Okay. Fantasize much?”

“She did!”

“You seriously need to get laid, dude. Stop making shit up.”

“He’s not lying,” you tell Peacemaker with a sheepish shrug. “Though I mentioned it in the context of his injuries and not…some other context.”

“See?” Vigilante says, and Peacemaker rolls his eyes, makes a jacking-off motion with his hand.

You don’t linger. You beat a hasty retreat, waving over your shoulder as you leave the trailer, and Peacemaker gives him more hell—calls him weird, calls him annoying.

“No wonder you’ve never had a real girlfriend, dude,” he says as he turns back to his folder of intel. “You say the creepiest shit the minute a cute girl is around.”

Vigilante doesn’t think about it much more until later. That night, in bed, he lies awake for far longer than he usually does. He replays that moment, tries to understand why he just blurted that out.

He wonders if you would have stayed at the trailer longer if he hadn’t been creepy. His face burns in the darkness of his bedroom, and his stomach twists painfully as he replays the moment over and over. He replays his stupid blurting out about his dick, and he has no idea what it means. He never obsesses over his stupid mouth like this.

If he had feelings like other people, he’d recognize the emotion as embarrassment.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Despondent (and Comforted)

Adrian gets himself arrested on purpose. It’s the best way he can help Chris: get arrested, get booked into the same prison as Chris’ racist supervillain father, then kill said racist supervillain father.

Easy enough. It’d set Chris free and make his life so much better. Allow him to move forward and not be bogged down, like Adebayo said.

Adrian fails. He only manages to make things worse—clues Auggie into his plan accidentally, possibly points law enforcement in Chris’ direction. So Adrian doesn’t just fail—he fails miserably.

He’s released that night. He’s surprised at first, but as he changes back into his clothes and collects his personal effects from the guards, he realizes that ARGUS has its sticky fingers in all sorts of things and probably sprung him with just a few keystrokes.

When he leaves the prison, you’re sitting out front in your car. You lower the passenger window and call out to him.

“C’mon,” you say. “Harcourt sent me to take you home.”

He’s too upset to even feel bad about his cover being blown. He climbs into the car.

“I think I made things worse,” he says, and he tries not to cry. He only wanted to help his best friend (even if he’s not Peacemaker’s best friend). Somehow he messed up, and it could ruin everything.

“Okay,” you reply softly. “It’s okay.”

You drive him home. He doesn’t give you his address, but you know it—another screw-up, he thinks, getting tangled up with people who easily cracked his secret identity. You know his name, his face, where he lives. Some instrument of vengeance he is. You probably even recognize him from his job at Fennel Fields.

Outside of his apartment, you park, then turn to face him. In the half-light from the streetlamps, he can just make out your soft smile.

“This entire ops is nothing but mistakes,” you tell him. “And yet, we’re doing okay. We’ll figure out how to handle Auggie Smith. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods, and something about the barest bit of comfort—paired with your smile—makes him turn to face you too.

“I’m Adrian,” he says, even though you know his name.

Your smile broadens and you say your name, even though he knows it. You hold out your hand and after a beat he takes it.

“Good to finally meet you, Adrian,” you reply as you shake hands.

For whatever reason, as low as he feels, he falls asleep that night with a weird lightness in his chest—because he doesn’t dwell on his failure at the prison.

Instead, he falls asleep with the memory of your smile, your kind words. Your warm hand in his.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Protective

The attack on Goff’s house yielded some leads, and the team travels three hours away to take out a nest of Butterflies. Everyone is exhausted, filthy, and bruised up.

It’s in the van—you sitting beside Adrian—when you start to nod off. He catches it the first few times, the way your head dips forward, the way you jerk back awake. It’s cute, the way you fight sleep, and then it happens.

You fall asleep and you don’t wake up. Your head drifts towards him, then settles against his shoulder.

Adrian freezes.

He and Peacemaker—they used to go out together, looking for crimes or bitches or both. He’s no virgin. He fucks. He’s no stranger to touch, and he’s certainly no stranger to women. And yet…this feels different. It feels new.

Peacemaker notices. “You got a new girlfriend, dude,” he points out with a laugh.

Harcourt rolls her eyes at the teasing. “Leave her alone. She puts in way more hours than you, asshole.”

“I put in plenty of hours,” he replies, defensive. “It takes a lot of time to maintain this impressive physique. Do you know how long I work on my small muscle groups alone?”

Harcourt rolls her eyes again, then returns her attention to her phone. Peacemaker turns back to where Adrian sits, rigid, as you sleep against him.

“If you get hard, just don’t tell her about it,” he advises the younger man. “You’ll creep her out again.”

It’s strange, the feeling of your head against him. It’s not sexy at all, obviously—in fact, it’s a little uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to move you, doesn’t want to jostle you and wake you up. Harcourt said you’re tired, and you took a hell of a beating as you fought the Butterflies.

Adrian has always approached his work as Vigilante from a perspective of vengeance, not protection, so the feeling is strange: how he wants to let you sleep, how he wants to protect your sleep. How he wants to make you comfortable.

A quiet falls over the team; the swaying of the van lulls everyone into comfortable silence. Adrian breathes in carefully through his nose, then shifts his body. Slowly, carefully. He leans away from you, allows you to lie against him more. He changes the angle enough that he can get his arm out from where it’s trapped between your body and his. He shifts again, gets his arm around you. Gently moves you—changes it from your head awkwardly pressed against his hard molded shoulder pad to your head tucked against his chest.

You wake, a little, as he moves you. You blink up at him sleepily, say his name—Adrian, not Vigilante or Vig or V—and your voice is husky with exhaustion. There’s a questioning lilt to how you say his name, so he shakes his head softly.

“Go ahead and rest,” he says, quiet. “Everything’s fine.”

You nod, then settle back against him. It takes only a moment until he feels your breathing slow down, deepen. He feels your body go heavy and lax against him. Tucked against his chest, his arm holding you against him, he can smell you, feel how warm you are. If he moves his head just a little, he can press his cheek against the top of your head.

Go ahead and rest, he thinks. Everything’s fine. I’ll keep you safe.

Vigilante has always been an instrument of vengeance, but this is the first time he’s felt protective of anyone.

The Time Vigilante Definitely Does Not Feel Fear

The 11th Street Kids have one chance to eradicate the Butterflies forever: if they can kill their only food source, the so-called cow, they will eventually all die off. When they make their final assault on the farm, the team splits up: Adebayo and Economos stay back, while the warriors—Peacemaker, Vigilante, Harcourt, and you—charge into action.

Whether the cow is killed or not, Adrian doesn’t find out until after the battle is over. He fights off the onslaught of Butterflies, but for the first time, his attention isn’t entirely on his own fight.

His attention is on you, now, too.

He manages to keep you in his sightline for the beginning of the fight. He sees you, admires the sight of you when you’re in your berserker mode: furious and deadly, well-fitted black suit, guns flashing as you empty clip after clip into the skulls of the Butterflies.

Then he loses sight of you.

His chest clenches in an unfamiliar tension, and when he finally catches sight of you again, that tight-chest feeling cedes to something else, something worse: an ice-cold shard of fear that lances through him, settles in his gut where it sits like a stone.

When he finally catches sight of you, it’s the exact moment you are shot by a Butterfly.

One shot hits your shoulder, spins you around.

Another shot hits you square in the chest, makes you stagger backwards as the force is absorbed by your vest.

The final shot hits you low in the belly, and Adrian (who has studied your gear closely) knows you have little protection there. The icy fear blooms in him, fills up every bit of him until it feels like it’s in his veins.

He screams your name. He barely even feels the bullet that hits him (“oh, shoot” he mutters, and tosses a knife behind him to kill his own attacker), but then he stumbles and falls, and he loses consciousness.

He wakes a moment later. He has no idea how much time has passed, but he manages to get to his hands and knees, then to his feet. He makes his way to where you fell and he finds you.

It’s bad. It’s so bad that the icy fear turns acidic in his veins, makes him burn with fear. With terror. You gaze up at him but you don’t seem to see him, and each breath makes a fresh pulse of blood trickle from your mouth.

Adrian has never been very good at social situations. He never knows the right thing to say and if he does, he doesn’t know the right time to say it. He wishes these things came more easily to him; if it were Chris here right now instead of him, Chris would know the right thing to say. He’d know how to keep you awake, how to give you comfort.

All Adrian can offer is what you told him the night he got out of prison, when you drove him home. Now, as you lie under the night sky, dying in front of him, as he presses one hand against the worst wound to try and staunch the bleeding, he repeats your words back to him.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he says it over and over and hopes you believe it. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The Time Vigilante Definitely Feels Love

You have no memory of the fight at the farm. The last thing you remember is the drive there, but everything after is a blank. Adebayo stops by when you finally wake up and fills you in on the salient details.

She tells you how Vigilante—who was also shot, who had been blown up earlier in the day—carried you to safety. How he kept you from bleeding out, how he held your very life in his hands and kept you from dying. How hospital security had to separate him from you, once you were laid out on the gurney and being wheeled into surgery.

How he still tried to fight to stay by your side, and how he only failed because of his own injuries and blood loss.

“That man is stupid crazy about you,” Adebayo chuckles with a shake of her head. “I don’t even think he’s really a psychopath.”

You chuckle with her, wince when the action pulls at the thousand stitches and staples that are keeping you held together. “He’s not bad, right?”

“We’re literally the Island of Misfit toys,” she replies. “But yeah, he’s alright.”

-----

Adrian is hospitalized too, and once he’s healed up to a point, he starts sneaking into your room to visit. It’s not really sneaking—every time he undoes his IV and heart monitor, it sends the nurses into a panic—but after Adebayo’s press conference revealing the existence of Task Force X, the hospital staff is pretty tolerant of his harmless shenanigans.

He helped ward off an alien invasion, after all. You both did.

You have to agree with Adebayo. You’ve never quite believed that Adrian is a psychopath or a sociopath or whatever. You certainly never believed him when he said he didn’t have feelings or emotions. The guy is nothing but a walking ball of emotions: obvious love for his friends, a yearning to belong, a sweet desire to be liked and included. Sure, he kills without compunction, but he seems to love in equal measure, even if he doesn’t believe he does.

When he visits you, he doesn’t talk about feelings. He chatters endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exploits—criminals they’ve busted, ways they’ve destroyed old appliances in the woods behind Peacemaker’s trailer. He talks about how it was when Peacemaker was in prison, how he kept calling and leaving voicemails to make it seem like everything was normal. He talks about his job at Fennel Fields, all the terrible customer service stories he has.

He discharges himself against the advice of the doctors (he’s healed enough, he tells you), and you think he’ll stop visiting, but he doesn’t. He visits every day still, and when you start physical therapy to build up the muscle tone and endurance you’ve lost, he sits in a nearby chair, watching you. Cheering you on.

Adebayo wasn’t wrong. You know Adrian has feelings for you. You’re more socially adept than him, and you’ve had relationships before. You’ve had crushes and been the object of them. You guessed his infatuation early on, and you can guess that it’s only grown for him since then.

It probably confuses him, you guess. You know what love feels like. What a crush feels like. All that feeling, in so many places: the fluttery stomach, the pounding heart, the thoughts that just circle ‘round and ‘round about a single person.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have similar feelings for him. He’s easy on the eyes, sure—but he’s earnest and sweet, a brutal killer with a heart of gold.

You can also guess that Adrian might never make a move. This has to be unfamiliar territory for him. You know he’s no virgin (he’s chattered endlessly about his and Peacemaker’s exhaustive threesomes too), but he seems to have no relationship experience.

But your entire short working relationship with him has been give and take. You stitched him up, comforted him when he was feeling low after his failed attempt to kill Auggie Smith. He let you rest against him, held you gently as you slept after a mission. He saved your life, kept you from bleeding out.

Give and take. The best kind of relationship, in your opinion.

“Hey, Adrian,” you say one afternoon after PT. You’re exhausted and sore, but you’re quickly approaching your own discharge. You are healing up nicely. You have things to look forward to.

“What’s up?” he asks, and he bounces over to your bedside like a Golden Retriever puppy, eager.

“Doctor says I’m good to go in a few days.”

“That’s great!” His face breaks open in a wide grin that transforms him from nerdy-handsome to downright gorgeous. “That’s good news!”

You swallow, push down the nerves that flare up. “I thought maybe we could celebrate.”

“Yeah!” He grins at you. “I can call Chris—”

“I thought maybe just me and you,” you cut in, clarifying. “Just this time. Maybe we include Chris some other time.”

“Oh.” The smile falls from his face, and he looks at you. His brows are knit in confusion.

No sense in backtracking now. “Like a date. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh.” A beat. “With me? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

What you’re asking him finally sinks in—a beat longer than it might with someone else, but that’s just part of Adrian’s charm. The smile returns to his face, brighter and wider than before.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Hell yeah, dude. I’d love that.”

#adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #tropes-and-tales

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holylulusworld · 6 months

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Snow bunny (1)

Summary: Someone tries to hunt a deer in your woods. You won’t have it.

Pairing: CEvans characters x Nymph!Reader (Lloyd Hansen, Ari Levinson, Andy Barber)

Warnings: creature reader, mentions of hunting deer, a little Christmas magic, kidnapping (kinda), Lloyd being Lloyd, groping, dirty talk, seduction (use of magic), I’ll label this dub-con (reader on them) because of her nature

Words: 1,7k

A/N: Please consider this a naughty Christmas fairytale.

Snow bunny masterlist

“Almost there, Barber. Follow me and you will kill your first deer.” You watch the men sneak around the woods. They carry weapons and knives. “Come on, hurry up. I don’t have all day to guide you through your first hunt, sunshine.”

“Shut up,” one of the other men shushes the first one. “You dragged me out here to run around the woods. I’d prefer a cabin, a fire, and some coffee.”

“Same,” the last guy grunts. “Lloyd let’s call it a day. I thought we want to drown our sorrows in booze and maybe some nice tits.”

“Shut up, Levinson,” the first guy twirls around to glare at the third guy. “You and Barber always whine about how your wives left you and that you want something new. You said you want thrills and fun. What is better than killing something?”

“Lloyd,” the second guy sighs. “Ari is not wrong. I’d take a drink over killing a deer any time of the day.”

“See, Andy thinks the same,” Ari grunts. “Let’s head back. We won’t find a deer to shoot today. It’s ice cold and I don’t feel my feet.”

“Wait!” The first guy, Lloyd lifts his fist. “There she is. The one I saw earlier.” He shushes the others and points at a majestic deer in the distance. He doesn’t know that the deer is dear to you, or that she’s sacred. “If you don’t want to kill that one, I’ll do it.”

“No. You won’t,” you confidently say and step out from behind a tree. All eyes are suddenly on you. The men gasp and groan as you walk toward them.

You’re only wearing a dress made of ivy and flowers. A leaf headdress covers your head. They watch you gracefully step closer, not bothered by the snow or the cold.

“Lady, shouldn’t you wear a little more than this—” Andy says. He worriedly looks at your bare feet as you walk through the snow. “She’s not wearing shoes and a thin dress made of what looks like ivy.”

“Miss, are you in trouble?” Ari steps toward you. He unbuttons his warm jacket to offer it to you, but you wave him off. “Miss?”

“Damn me,” Lloyd whistles. He looks you up and down and cups his crotch. “That’s a cute snow bunny, my friends. This must be the gift our friend told us about. Ya know, the fancy lady.”

“Fancy lady?” You huff. “I haven’t heard that term in ages.” Your soft voice goes straight to Andy’s cock. “Now, you will leave this place. The woods are not yours to disturb.”

“Miss, did you hit your head?” Andy worriedly watches you place your hand on Lloyd’s gun. “We can bring you back to town.”

“This is my home,” you snap your head toward Andy and snarl. “You invaded my home, and now you will pay for it.”

You tighten your hold on the gun, smirking as Lloyd tries to shake your hand off. “Let go, bunny and I won’t spank your cute ass too hard.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” You purr and dip your head to watch Ari take off his jacket. “I think you will be the first one Lloyd Hansen.”

Andy and Ari watch you drop your hand from the gun and step away. They are mesmerized by you and your appearance.

“Bunny, you should think about your next step. I’d hate to hurt you,” Lloyd smirks. “Or are you into a little pain?”

“You will pay for all the crimes you committed. You disrespect nature for too long,” you wave your hand, empathizing your words with the gesture. “Lloyd Hansen, you will be my slave from today on.”

Andy gasps as ivy crawls across the snow, it crawls up Lloyd’s leg to sling around the gun he’s still holding.

“Lloyd, you should drop the gun now,” Ari says. He’s suddenly not sure if his fascination for you is justified. “Don’t anger her. I don’t think she’s a prostitute.”

“Far from it,” you wave your hand again. More ivy crawls toward Lloyd to sling around his body. “He will look pretty in my garden. I will call his statue punishment.”

“Let me go, bunny,” Lloyd wiggles and grunts. “Hey, I’m talking to you. I won’t hurt you if you let me go now.”

“I won’t hurt you if you swear your obedience and loyalty to me and the woods,” you step toward Lloyd as more ivy wraps around his neck. “Now.”

“Do it Lloyd,” Andy sounds a little panicked. “Fuck, just do it!”

“Fine, snow bunny,” Lloyd struggles to speak as ivy wraps around his mouth. “I’ll be yours.”

“Wonderful!” You clap your hands, and the ivy drops to the ground. It disappears as suddenly as it appeared to wrap around the intruder. “Now to you.”

Lloyd is still a little shaken when you step toward Andy. You cup his face to feel his well-trimmed but thick beard under your fingertips.

“You will be mine too. I can sense your broken soul and sadness. You will only know joy and love from now on.”

Andy licks his lips. He can't move, speak, or think. “I-“ Andy croaks but doesn’t bring the words swirling in his mind out. He got a job, responsibility, an ex-wife demanding money, and a house to pay for but all he can think of now is to make you happy.

“Say yes, my sweet lover,” you press your lips to Andy’s taking his breath and fears away. He moans into your mouth, feeling his chest and cock swell at the same time. “Say you are mine.”

“I’m yours,” he breathes against your lips. Andy reaches out for you, but you slip through his fingers like the wind. “Only yours…”

You suddenly stand in front of Ari, eyes scanning more than his features. “Ari, your soul is sad too, and your heart is broken.” You cup his face with both hands. “Say you are mine and all of this will be gone forever.”

“I-I,” he welcomes your lips and closes his eyes. It feels like a weight gets lifted off his chest when you wrap your arms around him like the ivy did with Lloyd. “I’m yours.”

“Of course you are mine, Ari,” you breathe and float away to wrap your hand around Lloyd’s throat. “You are not sad nor heartbroken. But you are a bad…bad man and need guidance.”

“Oh bunny, I’d like to guide something inside of you,” Lloyd grins. He got that you are more interested in owning the men than anything else. “That’s what you want, right? You’re a naughty little slut dreaming of dick. I bet you want us to defile you.”

“Lloyd, don’t,” Ari warns. “Let her make you happy.” He’s like in a trance. “I want to make her happy and forget about my awful life.”

“It’s Christmas, my love,” you blow a kiss in Ari’s direction. “I will share all of my love with you.”

“And me,” Andy purrs. His eyes are dilated, and you know he is drifting in the right direction. You smirk and blow him a kiss too.

“Yes, my love,” you coo and batt your eyelashes. “Wait for me, Andy. I need to tame your friend first.”

“You can try,” Lloyd snickers as you slam him against the nearby tree. He laughs and watches you run your hands over his chest. “I’m not some puppy you can train. I know you are using some tricks to confuse these two idiots but me, I’m made of rougher stuff, bunny. If you want me, go on your knees, and give me a kiss to my dick.”

“You’re a stubborn and naughty man, Lloyd,” you are fascinated by this man. None of the other men you enchanted ever withstood your magic for so long. “Hmm…I won’t leave you behind. I want to keep you too.”

“Keep me?” He snorts. “Bunny if you keep me you’ll always be full of dick. I’ll use all of your holes. I will fuck you under your Christmas tree and christen it. You will be my whore until I get bored.”

Your core aches at his crude description. Maybe you shouldn’t control him too much. This man is a menace, and you want him to use you the way he wants to.

“We will see,” you say instead of giving away that you want him to take you right there against the tree. “For now, you are mine and will follow me home.”

“Like hell,” he growls. His hand shoots toward your crotch to roughly cup your pussy. “Look who’s wet like a cat in heat for me. Come on, bunny. I want you to turn around and let Lloyd take good care of that cunt.”

“You will wait until it’s your turn,” you cup his face and kiss him roughly. “You will be my new toy. Maybe I’ll turn you into my favorite, huh?”

“Miss…I mean…it’s getting colder,” Andy’s teeth shatter. “We should head back, don’t you think?”

“Oh! Of course,” you twirl around to look at Andy and Ari. “Humans freeze so easily.” You snap your fingers. The trees part and the snow melts to create a path. “Come with me. I’ll offer you shelter from the cold.”

“I bet your cunt is slick and warm enough to keep me warm,” Lloyd snickers, but follows hot on your heels. “So, what do you do for a living? Kidnapping hot guys to get dick? Hmm… no. A girl can’t live off cock and cum alone.”

“You really are a naughty man, Lloyd Hansen,” you chuckle as you look over your shoulder. “Santa was right. You need me to make a better man out of you…”

“Whoa, the fuck!” Lloyd stops in his tracks as you stop walking. You are standing in front of a huge castle. Ivy and flowers are wrapped around the whole building and it looks like straight out of a fairytale. “Where is this thing coming from? Not hours ago, there was nothing but snow and trees.”

“You cannot see my home as long as you are not worthy,” you grab his wrist, to make sure Lloyd doesn’t run away. Ari and Andy are loyal already, but Lloyd is a different story. “You will be allowed inside as long as you are a good boy.”

“Good boy,” he snorts. “Dream on, bunny.”

“Y/N, my love,” the door opens to reveal another man. The tall blonde steps outside to welcome you home. “Do you like my choice? Are you satisfied?”

“Stevie, my sweet love,” you coo, and push Lloyd toward the door. “Please keep an eye on this one. He’s a little…”

“Stubborn,” Steve smirks. “Oh, punk. You are in for a long haul…”

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #ari levinson #andy barber #steve rogers #nymph reader #snow bunny #lloyd hansen x reader #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader

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cherrycocaineee · 1 month

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41. Happy Birthday, Slut - Joker

*Synopsis: It’s Athena’s 19th birthday, it’s also been a complete year since she ran away with the Joker after he killed her abusive father. The Joker wants to make the day special for Athena, wants her to have a good birthday since it’s been awhile. And her birthday present…he’s got something special planned for that.*

*Warning: nsfw, 18+, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, choking, restraints, legal age gap, daddy kink, semi-public sex, whatever else you wanna consider a warning lol.*

*A/N: just a reminder that I’ve changed the character name to Athena bc I had my daughter five months ago and named her Paisley.*

*Athena’s p.o.v*

Rays of sunlight pierced through a crack in the black curtains that covered the large panel glass windows in the room. I groaned, stretching my bed over the black, silk sheets. The Joker wasn’t lying beside me but that was normal most days, he was probably down in his study or something. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I flinched when I touched the cold floor. The floor was always so cold, I really needed to get some slippers.

I push myself up and head to the master bathroom, turning the light on. I turned on the hot water before slipping out of my silk nightgown. It slipped off my body with ease, then I took off my underwear and climbed inside. Hot water cascaded down my small frame, soaking my hair as I rinsed off. I grabbed my loofah and washed my body, then moved on to washing my hair. After my shower, I turned off the water and grabbed my towel, dried off then wrapped it around me before grabbing another towel to dry my hair.

As I walked out, I noticed the bed was remade and there was an outfit sitting out on the comforter. I looked around the room but didn’t see anyone. Either Mister J or one of his henchmen, Frost, did this. I walked over to the outfit and looked at it. It was a short sleeve, red dress with white polka dots and a low v-neck; it was also thigh high and I was sure if I bent over it would live zero to the imagination. There were a pair of white platform pumps that were absolutely gorgeous, a pair of ruby red earrings, and a small white handbag. It was a lovely outfit. I threw it on before going back into the bathroom where I straightened my hair and did my makeup.

My heels clicked against the marbled floor of the house as I walked down the stairs and headed towards Mister J’s study. Frost was just coming out when I arrived.

“Good morning, Frost.”

He looked at me and smiled. “Good morning, Athena.”

“Is Mister J in?”

He nodded his head before opening the door and letting me inside. I thanked him as he closed the door. Sitting behind his desk, Mister J was scribbling some stuff down on some papers; he looked up when he heard my heels. A grin stretched across his painted red lips.

“Ah, good morning, darling.”

He stood up from his chair and approached me, his tattooed hands immediately finding my hips. I smiled at him.

“Good morning, Mister J.”

Mister J leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against my lips.

“Happy birthday,” he added against my lips.

My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe I had forgotten my own birthday. I giggled and touched his chest, my fingertips grazing over the opening of his blood red, button up shirt as well as the ink on his pale skin. He watched me.

“I’d completely forgotten,” I laughed.

Mister J laughed too, his fingers touching my face before his fingers gripped my chin and he crammed his lips onto mine. He kissed me for what felt like forever but when he pulled away it felt like the kiss had barely been there.

“Have you had breakfast yet, birthday girl?”

I shook my head “no.” He took my hand in his and led me out of the study down to the kitchen. I smiled as he looked at me.

“You look stunning in your new outfit, darling.” Mister J said.

“Thank you.”

In the kitchen, Mister J gestured for me to sit down on the barstool before he started making me breakfast. I watched him cook, it was rare for him to be in the kitchen making our own meals. He’d normally tell one of the cooks to do it.

“Well, aren’t I special,” I giggled

“You are special, darlin’.” He grinned.

When breakfast was cooked, Mister J placed my plate in front of me and stood behind me with his arms around my waist and his head on my shoulder. The food looked amazing. He had made me waffles with fresh blueberries and strawberries on them, scrambled eggs because he knows I hate runny yolk, and some breakfast sausage. It was absolutely perfect.

“You aren’t going to eat?” I asked him, shoving a bite of egg in my mouth.

He grinned and shook his head, “no, I’ll be saving my appetite for later this evening.”

I was about to ask him what he meant but then his hands squeezed my exposed thighs. I knew exactly what he wanted, it’s what I’ve been wanting too. Mister J and I hadn’t had sex the entire time we were together and that was because he had been so busy with so many things that he was tired. That and I was a virgin, so the thought of having sex immediately after we just got together didn’t seem appealing to me. I had been afraid that after I gave him what he wanted, he’d leave. But after awhile, I longed for him to touch every part of my body, to feel his cock inside my cunt, and the sounds he would make while he was fucking me.

Mister J tapped on my head. I hadn’t realized I had froze in deep thought.

“What’s running through that pretty, little head of yours, Athena?” He grinned.

I chewed the remainder of the egg in my mouth before swallowing it. I turned and looked at him, our blue eyes staring into each other. God, he was handsome, no one could convince me otherwise.

“Do you think that we could…uhm…” God this was embarrassing to ask for.

Mister J watched me intently, waiting for me to say what I was gonna say. I gulped, feeling my cheeks turn red.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Mister J teased, “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t use those pretty words of yours.”

A tease. He was a ginormous tease. He knew exactly what I wanted.

“Can we…can we please…please don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, well then you must not really want it.”

Asshole.

Mister J kissed my neck and I shivered as I felt him move along my neck. His hands squeezed my thighs and I moaned. He chuckled.

“Mister J,” I whimpered, “I need you.”

“Need me to what, darlin’?”

“N-need you to fuck me.”

He grinned wider than I have ever seen. He was waiting for this day just as much as I was. I bit my bottom lip and he stared longingly. He chuckled and looked at me.

“I sure can, but you’ll have to wait for tonight after all the fun birthday things we do. Now eat your breakfast, you’ll need the energy for what I have in store for you.”

Mister J walked away from me and headed off probably back to his office. I huffed. He was really making me wait until the end of the day, that was totally rude. I sighed and started finishing my breakfast. After I was done eating, I cleaned my dishes even though the cook insisted that she would do it. I shooed her away, telling her she does enough for me already. When I was finished cleaning my dishes, I headed to a different part of the house but was stopped by Frost.

“Miss Athena,” he said, “Mister J has asked me to tell you to go out to the car, he’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Oh? Are we going to his club?” I asked.

“No, he has something different planned.”

Frost didn’t say another word to me, he just walked away. I tilted my head and went outside to find Mister J waiting in his purple lamborghini. I approached the car, Mister J pushed the passenger’s side open for me like normal and I climbed in, closing the door.

“Ready, princess?”

“Where are we going?” I asked, curiously.

“Thought you might like to go shopping, get yourself whatever you want. You don’t really spend a lot of my money, so I figured this might be a treat. I’ll go with you so I can make sure you’re actually spending a lot.”

“You want me to spend a lot?” I asked, with wide eyes.

“Sweetheart, if it doesn’t say you spent the length of a phone number, I’ll be quite annoyed.”

My eyes widened. He wanted me to spend that much money. I did the math in my head and gasped.

“But the size of a phone number is like a billion dollars.”

“Exactly.”

Mister J started driving towards Gotham. He asked which store I’d like to go to first. I looked down at my phone wondering how the hell I was going to spend a billion dollars or if he was just exaggerating and I didn’t actually have to spend a billion. I perked up. This phone was the same phone I had since I moved to Gotham, Frost had picked it up when he went to get my belongings and kidnap my dad.

“I would like a new phone, if that’s okay.”

“‘Course it’s okay!” He laughed before driving me to a phone store.

People in Gotham didn’t really pay any attention to anyone unless they were being robbed or some other criminal act was being performed, mainly violence. So I wasn’t shocked when Mister J walked around the phone store with me, our hands clasped together, and no one jumped to call the police. I was looking at all the phones that they had on the floor while the Joker watched me. Finally I picked an Iphone 13 in a pink color. The Joker paid for it and we headed back to his lamborghini. For the remainder of the day, Mister J took me shopping at various different stores before taking me out to dinner later that evening. The restaurant he took me to was absolutely stunning. There was a chandelier directly above the entire restaurant that illuminated a soft glow over all the tables. Mister J and I were escorted to a VIP section so that neither one of us could be bothered. I was staring at all of the beautifully, expensive art that hung on the walls, the mahogany brown color that mixed with the egg shell white. The restaurant was gorgeous. We sat down and the waitress came in to take our order. Mister J ordered himself a large steak and I ordered myself a grilled chicken salad. I looked at Mister J.

“Thank you, for all of this today.”

“You’re welcome but the day’s not over and I’ve got one more thing for you.”

He had a mischievous grin on his face and I felt my heart rate speed up. He knew what he was doing, that asshole. Our food came and we started eating while chatting about random things. I couldn’t keep my eyes from staring at him. He was handsome. From his green hair, to his ruby red lips, to his tattoos, and his muscular body. God, he wasn’t just handsome, he was sexy. I slowly chewed my food, it tasted good but I didn’t want it right now. Mister J looked up from his steak.

“You alright, darling?” He asked, grinning.

I didn’t answer him, I just stood up and walked over to him. I climbed into his lap and he looked at me, a grin stretched across his ruby red lips. I smiled back.

“Someone couldn’t wait, hm? Impatient little thing.”

“How can I wait when you’re sitting across from me looking so good,” I point out.

“Well who can argue there, doll?” He laughed, his hands moving to my hips, rubbing small circles against my exposed skin, “I can’t keep my eyes off you either.”

“Then why are we waiting?” I whispered seductively in his ear.

Mister J ran his hands down my hips to my exposed thighs. I shivered from his touch, my eyes wandering down his exposed chest. He always wore his shirts slightly unbuttoned, giving me a perfect view of his pretty, tattooed chest. I was getting so tired of fantasizing about him fucking his cock into me while I touched myself, I needed it. I ran my fingers down his chest before I started unbuttoning his shirt exposing more of his skin. I sighed softly as I leaned down and peppered his tattooed chest with kisses, leaving behind a trail of dusky rose lipstick against his pale skin. Mister J groaned. That sent a shiver up my spine. I loved how deep his groans were even if I’ve only ever heard them when he was frustrated with his work or someone was pissing him off. This was different, this was a groan of pleasure that I was giving him.

“Like that?” I asked, my eyelashes fluttering as I looked up at him.

His hand went to my throat while his other stayed on my thigh. I grin as he moves closer to me.

“You know I do, doll.”

His grip on my thigh and my throat tighten just a little bit; not enough to hurt me but enough so he was holding me tight. I could feel my cunt practically drooling. Mister J slammed his lips against mine and we kissed feverishly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I moaned, his tongue running over my bottom lip before slipping it into my mouth. He tasted like steak, obviously, but I could also taste expensive scotch, smoke from his cigars, and just…him. I moaned as I grinded my hips against him, my aching cunt desperate for some type of friction. I was sure I was leaving behind a wet spot on his pants but he didn’t seem to mind. He moved his lips from mine and started kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned again, my movements becoming rougher as I felt his hard cock through his pants.

“So pretty,” he whispered before he lifted my dress revealing my black, lacy panties. He grinned softly. “Look at you. All ready, wrapping yourself all pretty for me.”

I moaned at his words. He grinned and pushed my dress up more until it was completely off of my body. My black, lacy bra being revealed. He growled, his eyes darkening in desire and lust. He pulled me closer to him, his lips attaching to my own. His tongue ran over my mouth and he groaned. I gasped as he squeezed my breast, my eyes rolling back as I filled his bulge pressed against my cunt.

“Mister J…”

“Ah,” he interrupted, “what’s my name?”

“Daddy,” I corrected; his grin stretching further across his face.

“What can daddy do for you?”

“Fuck me.”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips my breast again and I moan. He held me close to his body, his piercing blue eyes staring into my lust filled eyes.

“Such a dirty slut wanting me to fuck you in this restaurant,” he grinned, “you like the idea of the waiter coming back in here seeing me stuff your sweet little pussy, huh?”

His words made my cunt even more wet. I moaned and nodded my head. Whatever got me railed sooner. Mister J pulled me off his lap, making me stand up. He got to his feet too, unclipping my bra with one hand, my breast fully exposed as he tied my wrist behind me back with my bra. The fabric was tight against my skin but I liked it. Once my hands were secured behind my back, Mister J pushed me down to my knees. His shirt was still unbuttoned, but not completely off; he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off before setting it down on his seat. I watched him with doe eyes as he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s already hard and standing at attention, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. Drool slips past my lips and he grins.

“Open wide for daddy, baby.”

I don’t even hesitate or think about it, I just open my mouth. He guides his cock into my mouth and I moan as he fills my mouth. He moves his hips slowly, his cock moving in and out of my mouth each thrust getting rougher and rougher as the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. Mister J groans as he grabs my head pushing himself deeper into my mouth. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my hands struggling in the restraints he had me in. It was my bra so you’d think the fabric would be easily tearable but not for me. Mister J growled.

“That’s it, baby, suck daddy’s cock.”

The back of my throat made squelching noises as he fucked my face. I felt tears stream down my face but I was enjoying every moment of it. I ran my tongue over every inch of his cock, groaning as I felt every vein that decorated his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

I moaned around him. Mister J grunted before pulling me off his dick, I started gasping for air. He turns me around and pushes the food onto the floor before pushing me down on the table, my back facing him but my ass out. He grabs the fabric of my panties and rips them off, tearing the fabric easily. I moan. He kneeled down and pulled my ass cheeks apart, my eyes rolling back as he gave himself a perfect view of both my cunt and my asshole. Mister J spits on my pussy before devouring it, his tongue and mouth slurping and licking at my soaked cunt. I moaned, pressing my head against the table as he ate me out. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he nipped my clit.

“Oh fucking god,” I moan out, I grip the side of the table.

Mister J keeps eating me out, his tongue pushing into my cunt. I tighten around his tongue and he growls. I try to move my hands but can’t. My legs started shaking and I knew I was about to cum.

“Daddy,” I moaned out, “I’m gonna c-cum.”

Mister J moved his mouth from my cunt, his chin dripping with my juices. He rubbed my clit harshly, the sound of my arousal echoing in the room mixing with both our heavy breathing. I moaned more as he looked up at me, grinning.

“Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

“Oh fuck, cumming, daddy.”

My knees buckled as I came hard, my eyes rolling back as a silent scream left my lungs. When I was done cumming, Mister J stood up and picked me up and placed me on the table, spreading my legs. I was still panting from the previous orgasm. Mister J spit on his cock before rubbing it over it and positioning himself in front of my pussy. I propped myself up the best I could so I could see him shove his cock inside me. I moaned as he pushed himself inside me, his cock stretching me out to his width. Mister J groaned.

“Such a tight, fucking pussy, doll.”

“Yeah, daddy?” I moan, he nods his head as he starts moving his hips faster and harder. I groan as he pounds into my cunt. Mister J reached his hand up and grabbed my throat and squeezed tightly as he fucked me. His hips moved at an animalistic speed, the table shaking back and forth, his hand on my throat was the only thing that kept me on the table.

“Holy shit,” I moaned, “you’re so f-fucking deep.”

Mister J grinned as he continued to fuck himself into me. I fall back on the table, my hands still secured behind my back. With each thrust, my breast bounced. Mister J leaned down and sucked on one of my nipples, the speed of his hips never faltering.

“Such a stupid whore,” Mister J growled roughly, sweat collecting on his body. My own body glistened with a small film of sweat. Mister J grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder allowing him to go deeper. My eyes rolled back and drool started spilling from my lips and collecting on the table I was one. Mister J watched me, a grin on his face as he continued to move his hips roughly. My heart was hammering inside my chest as adrenaline and pleasure soaked every inch of my nerves. I couldn’t focus on anything else, just the way he cock stretched me out and the sounds coming from my wet cunt each time he drilled himself into me.

“Look at that,” Mister J grinned, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

My entire body was buzzing and I was approaching my climax once again. I moaned and arched my back the best I could with my hands behind my back. The fabric of my bra rubbed my wrist raw but I didn’t care.

“G-gonna cum,” I managed to pant out.

“Panting?” The Joker laughed, “like a bitch in heat. You wanna cum, doll, beg me for it.”

His words were so lewd, it was only gonna get more intense from here. I moaned and looked up at Mister J the best I could through teary eyes. I wasn’t crying from pain, but from pleasure.

“Please, daddy, wanna cum.” I whimper.

He laughs. “You can do better than that, baby. Beg daddy and I’ll let you make a pretty mess on my cock.”

“Daddy!” I moaned louder as he rubbed my clit at the same time as he fucked me, “f-fuck, please, please let me cum. Need it, need it so fucking bad. Wanna cum, please, please.” I didn’t care if the words made sense or anything, I just needed to cum. Mister J reached down and grabbed by my neck with his free hand and yanked me closer to him, his cock still working its magic. I moaned again.

“Cum.” It was an order. Either I cum now or not at all. So I came hard all over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back. I might have looked like the main character from the exorcist. A scream was ripped from my lungs as my juices coated every inch of his cock, my pussy squeezing around him. He groaned too but didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled me up and sat down on his seat.

“Ride me.”

“T-tired.”

“Don’t think so, doll, you wanted to be an impatient brat, ride me.”

I moved myself up and down on his cock. His hands were on my hips as I bounced up and down. My hair bounced with the movement. My sweaty skin caused some strands to stick to me.

“That’s it. Ride daddy.”

“L-legs getting tired, daddy.”

Mister J looked up at me and smacked my face, not enough to physically cause me pain but enough to tell me that he didn’t care. He was right, I wanted this now and was too impatient to wait when I got home. There was a knock on the door and I covered my mouth. Mister J laughed and pulled my hand down.

“What is it?” He laughed.

The door opened and the waiter walked in. His eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me riding the Joker’s cock. Mister J pulled me off of him and bent me over the table.

“W-was just coming to check on you two,” the waiter stuttered out, I could see the growing tent in his pants.

“Hold on a second, kid,” Mister J said, he removed one of his golden chains and wrapped it around my neck before pulling on it. Not tight but enough for the cool metal to dig into my hot skin. He slammed himself in from behind and I moaned out again. By now I knew, without actually seeing, that I was completely fucked out. The waiter’s eyes met mine, which were teary eyed and my eyeliner and mascara probably smudged to hell.

“See that, kid. This dumb whore likes that you’re watching her get fucked. Her pussy is practically suffocating my cock.”

The waiter couldn’t move or say anything, he just stood there and watched; his mouth slightly open.

“Oh my fucking…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

“What a dumb slut,” Mister J laughed, “gonna cum on my dick again in front of this man?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Then let’s see it baby. Give this man a show.”

I moaned louder this time as I came hard on his cock for the second time, this being a total of three orgasms in I don’t know how long. Were we here for an hour, two, maybe it was closing time and that’s why the waiter came to check on us. Mister J rubbed my clit quickly and I felt a different type of pressure before I released and ended up squirting for the first time.

“Ohhh, fuck,” I cry out.

In front of me, the waiter now had a wet spot on his pants meaning he probably came too. Mister J smacked my ass roughly before grabbing it and continued to fuck himself into me.

“Gonna breed this cunt, baby, ready?”

I nod vigorously, still moaning and panting. Mister J fucked himself into my cunt a few more times before he growled and released his cum into my pussy. My eyes rolled back as I felt his entire seed push all the way inside me, deep. Mister J rutted against me, groaning as he watched my greedy pussy take all his cum before he pulled out. He zips himself back up and looks at the waiter.

“Bring the check.”

“Y-yes sir.” The waiter ran off and Mister J helped me to my feet.

He untied my hands from my bra and grinned down at me.

“Get dressed doll, sorry about your panties and bra. Looks like you’ll have to walk out of here with my cum running down your leg.”

He wasn’t actually sorry but I didn’t mind. In fact, I moaned at the thought. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart. Let’s get home so I can rough you up some more.”

I giggled and nodded as I got dressed. Mister J paid for the food that we didn’t eat, the waiter refused to make eye contact with either one of us, and we left. I was excited to see what more he had in store for me when we got home.

Tags: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck

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o-wild-west-wind · 8 months

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okay, here’s my actual thoughtful post: I get why people are upset about the finale…I really do. but I want to mention that there’s a bigger picture to this story that’s missing if you’re zooming too close onto Izzy as a character, and I’m honestly so grateful that the show stuck to the thematic arc it introduced in season 1 because, as per usual, it’s about the themes 🤌 and this show never skimps on the symbolism!!

so here’s the thing: the primary themes are toxic masculinity (& it’s opposite, queer joy); trauma; love as a healing force for the above; and, title alert—DEATH. because it’s so much more than a cool title!

now, Izzy has always represented something metaphorical about all of these points; most directly, he’s always represented masculinity, and s2 has been an arc of toxicity deconstruction. but crucially, he’s also represented all that for Ed, who is the deuteragonist of this show. because—don’t forget—Stede and Ed are the show.

I’ve always doubted myself for feeling this after seeing how fandom saw Izzy as a third romantic figure (which like by all means have a blast in your fanfics I don’t care it’s about joy at the end of the day and pursue that as you want to), but after hearing something about djenks referring to Izzy as a father figure, it confirms a major point for me—Izzy is also in a lot of ways a parallel to Ed’s dad, and a representation of the trauma and guilt Ed felt from that formative killing. for so long, Izzy was an aggressive shadow in Ed’s life, and a tangible reminder of those daddy issues—someone telling him what to do, keeping him Blackbeard—and the beautiful thing is how that changed this season, how Izzy became a version of masculinity that could love and be beautiful and make good from the hurt, the literal poison into positivity. someone antithetical to his own paternalistic force, healing our daddy issues one drag show at a time. BUT, Izzy is still thematically representative within Ed’s arc—and by also representing the trauma that made Ed “Blackbeard,” it does make smart writing sense as to why Izzy died (NOT saying you can’t be sad about it—stick with me for a moment).

because here’s the thing—as aforementioned, this show is also about DEATH. killing is the root of everyone’s trauma, and reconciling a relationship with death is the ultimate arc Ed and Stede are both on, with the ultimate path of learning to live despite its inevitability. there’s a reason it was such a huge thing that Ed couldn’t personally kill, and then in this episode killed so many people with his bare hands in the name of love—and there’s a reason that was framed as a good thing. and there’s also Ed’s (and arguably Stede’s) active suicidality, which has been a huge force driving this season. these are characters who see death as this all-consuming thing, and they see their own deaths as the only solution. death is the traumatic force driving almost everything about their being for so long—and its reconciliation is everything for them, the greatest sign of growth. so Izzy’s death, and everyone beginning again with love—healing each other with love—is a cap to it all. it’s death as a positive force, for once. it’s death as love, not trauma. it’s death as something that will always happen, but this time not forced by your own hand. it’s a death to everything toxic, to what “Blackbeard” represented, and all the while a sort of rebirth. it’s kind of a death to…death? it’s functionally like the real physical moon replacing the giant romantic imaginary orb: it’s taking the thing that’s been artificially morphed in Stede and Ed’s heads and making it real this time, with all the bittersweet emotions that come with tangible reality.

and honestly, I’m glad that it was tragic and emotional. I didn’t think I’d be so devastated to see Izzy die, but it really did get to me, especially because of everything he said to Ricky and then to Ed. but think of it this way: Izzy and Ed might be romantically compelling because they were toxic and charged (and I hope people still enjoy everything they get from that dynamic in fan work), but imagine if the show had actually gone in that direction—where would it take us thematically? it would kill the thesis; it would be love as chaos and entertainment, but not healing. instead, this show gave us something so much more powerful: a legitimate, fully-fleshed trauma arc.

trauma hurts. Izzy’s death hurts. but that’s okay. that’s great, actually! it means the storytelling was effective—that Izzy’s arc made you feel something. and i know this won’t be every viewer’s experience, but honestly? I’m glad I can have this grieving process in such a beautifully framed light in the safe space ship of this show, because let’s be real—death, real life death, fucks you up. and let me tell you, I could’ve used this show during so many episodes of grief in my life. but here it is now, reminding us that our grief and trauma doesn’t define us—and WHAT a powerful thing for queer love, especially, to be presented as the thing that heals us all. ESPECIALLY when so much grief and death in this community is woven so deeply with the trauma of our identity.

so grieve as you need to, but don’t forget to turn the poison into positivity 💛 because that’s what the show is telling us—choose live, despite!

#djenks out here paying my therapy bill yet again #I feel like I need a million disclaimers for this post so just assume I’ve said all of them #and remember that art that hurts isn’t always a bad thing!#I didn’t think I’d have coherent thoughts yet I swear I blacked out and wrote this here we are #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd meta #tw: death #death #tw: suicide #suicide

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poorwritingandstalecoffee · 21 days

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in vita, in media morte sumus. Ch.2

WC: 1800

Ch.2

Knock! Knock’

“—I- I’m sorry I have to go.” Larissa glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. “I forgot I had a meeting at 9.”

“Oh! Is it the new Adam’s girl?”

Larissa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed again. “Yes, Vlad, if you must know. Now, I’d like to maintain my punctual reputation and not give Morticia another aspect of my character to comment on.”

“ Okay, okay…I’ll let you get to it.” Larissa could hear him chuckling on the other end at the tension in her voice, and she snapped the phone shut.

Larissa stood up and smoothed down her white dress. Deep breaths, smile, placate, and it will be over in no time. Larissa raised her head and took measured steps toward the door. It’s fine; she’ll jest with you, Gomez, with smile, and you’ll welcome the new addition to Nevermore.

Larissa placed her hand on the doorknob. Please, god, don’t let her be like Wednesday.

Larissa opened the door and stood there. She smiled and felt her face freeze as she looked from Gomez to Morticia, smiling with a screeching “Rissa!” then to you.

Larissa looked you up and down and felt anxious for a different reason she could not name. She watched you turn your bored gaze from the kids walking down the hallway to her. Larissa felt her cheeks burning as your eyes slowly moved up her figure with a slow calculation.

You observed her heels, her long legs that bent at the knee and straightened repeatedly, her fidgeting clasped hands, the pressed white dress, her long neck, the veins and arteries tensing from her quickening pulse. You slowly smirked as your eyes moved over pristine red lips, smiling at you in masked anxiety, smooth white skin, and finally, pale blue eyes that widened under fluttering black eyelashes.

Larissa heard her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched your eyes narrow at her. She knew your reputation, your murderous history. Half of Larissa was afraid you might kill her with your bare hands right then just for the fun of it. The other half was just as scared you might do something else…and that she wanted you too.

“Larissa…,” Morticia raised an eyebrow and chuckled at her. “I hope we haven’t stepped that far out of your good graces to warrant such silence. Is Wednesday so terrible, dear?”

Larissa flinched. “What? Ohh, no, no. My apologies. Come in, come in.” Larissa said hastily and moved aside.

You stepped inside and glanced over the office's interior, noting little hints of Larissa scattered throughout the space. The bookshelf was filled with favorites of hers, no doubt. The carpet, the worn-in couch next to the fireplace, the glowing lamps scattered throughout the place, and the steaming coffee cup sporting red lipstick print.

Larissa hurried back to the safety of her desk and sat down, straightened the papers on her desk, shut her laptop, and turned her coffee cup an inch. When she felt her heart slowly calm down, she clasped her hands on the desk and turned toward the Addams family with a smile.

“So, Ms. Addams, you’re Wednesday’s older sister by four years. She has mentioned you a few times, and I can certainly see who her role model is.”

Sitting between Morticia and Gomez, you turn your head slightly to eye her unease, hiding behind the sweet civility. “Hmm, based on the telling of recent horrors occurring within this place, I’d say I taught her more skills for survival and detection than any of your staff was able to do within a year.”

“Ahh, yes, we’ve increased the security measures for hiring staff and securing the school. We’ve also established new policies with the Jericho mayor for creating better connections and awareness between the outcast and normie communities.” Larissa smiled through her sigh and clenched her hands tighter. “Nevermore is now safer for outcasts than it has ever been.”

You smirked. “I could have made that happen for you in one night. All with a single swipe of a knife.”

“Des, dear, it’s impolite to murder the town before getting to know its inhabitants.” Morticia glanced at Gomez, who winked at her.

They glanced at Larissa, who took a deep breath and said, “I’m sure you could, but unless you wish to return to your old metal room, I’d suggest not.”

“Who's to say I’d get caught.”

“The news and media outlets that are burning the image of your incarcerated profile and murder charges into the minds of every single normie in the town, let alone the country.”

You leaned back with crossed arms. “I was only caught because I let a single rat escape her little hole. I won’t make that mistake again. Even with you, Principal Weems.”

Larissa’s breath hitched, and she felt rooted to the spot under your gaze.

Gomez and Morticia looked at each other, then at you and Larissa. Gomez slowly said, “My little dagger, give Larissa a chance. She’s like us and only wants you to have a wonderful time here at Nevermore. Just like your sister did.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “I won’t kill her.”

Morticia leaned toward you. “Promise?”

You glanced at Larissa and felt shocked that a small part of you hated the familiar look she was giving you. Then the feeling was gone. Smirking again, you said, “We’ll see.”

Larissa shivered under your cold glare. She cleared her throat and pulled the folder from a pile beside her laptop. “Well, let’s, umm, talk about your educational background.”

She flipped open the folder and flicked through the papers, citing your countless transfers from each underfunded public school to the next. Your graduation from a now foreclosed private school—the result of a series of unsolved murders and disappearances, no doubt your doing. Your brief spurts of college classes that ended in screaming blood baths and your two-year residence in a mental institution that led to you setting the place on fire–literally–and killing the entire staff, half the patients, and escaping with the other half into hiding.

“I see that…also like your sister, you could never find the right fit for a school.” Larissa felt like she was treading on thin ice about to break and send her into freezing water.

“Bravo, Principal Weems, you successfully masked my murderous tendencies and attributed them as resulting from an identity crisis among shallow people who failed to hold even an ounce of self-awareness for themselves or others.” You slowly clapped your hands and grinned at her.

Morticia chuckled and glanced at Larissa’s widened eyes. “Des—”

Larissa saw the challenge in your eyes and understood the fire in them. Fine, if you want to play, let’s play. She took a deep breath and snapped the folder shut. “No, Morticia, she’s right. Excuse my brief lapse in judgment for trying to be delicate with the fact that you made a career out of being a serial killer because you failed to find joy in any aspect of your life. I’m sure you thought they all deserved you cutting their lives short. However, now is where that ends. You had a good run of it, I’m sure, slaughtering all those who dared to challenge your expectations. But here at Nevermore, all outcasts are accepted, included, and protected, including you. So, if you so much as try to give someone a papercut, I’ll have you out of here and behind bars before you can even wipe the blood off your hands.”

You smiled like a Cheshire Cat with a dangerous glint in your eyes. Your voice was deadly calm. “Mmm, and you think you can hold me?”

Gomez and Morticia glance at each other.

Larissa forced herself not to squirm in her seat. She spread her arms across the table and gripped the edges. Larissa slowly exhaled and smiled through clenched teeth. “We will do our very best, Ms. Addams.”

You heard Morticia and Gomez clapping and chanting how you would have such a wonderful time here. The mischief adventures, friendships, and memories you would make here will become legendary.

I couldn’t agree more, you thought.

Larissa inhaled deeply at the darkening of your pupils, the unrelenting smirk on your face, and how you tilted your head back as you stared at her. What was she to you? A challenge, an admiration, or a victim?

She blinked and bent to pull two papers from a drawer. Larissa cleared her throat and said, “Then let’s discuss what your schedule will look like. Nevermore has become a dual campus—with high school and lower-level college classes for transitions to university. Your college classes will take place in Hypatia House, the building adjacent to this one, designated for college students. Your dorm room is in this building, along with all other students. However, to maintain a safe distance between groups of students, college students are located in four new halls that have been added to the main mansion.”

You tracked Larissa’s movements and admired how she spoke each syllable with a soft yet deep tone. Her lips formed each syllable carefully, like she was feeling the weight of the words on her tongue. Her hands fiddled with the papers. Her nails scraped the edges, and you thought it intriguing that she admired the color red enough to coat her nails with it.

You glanced up and caught her following your eye movements. She glanced back down quickly and licked her lips. Interesting, you thought.

“You are assigned to Athena Hall—”

“Ohh, Tish, how fitting for her!” Gomez cheered.

“Yes, all she’ll need are her swords to fit the anger. She certainly has the training for it.” Morticia smirked at you with her jest.

“How kind of you, Mother,” you snarked at her with a bored expression. “Speaking of my possessions, my piano—”

“Will be installed in your dorm room by the end of the day. Lurch is already on it, darling.”

Larissa perked up at the notion of you having a musical hobby. She smiled and said, “We’ll have to have Wednesday and you perform together for Nevermore one day!”

“You would be an idiot if you didn’t, Principal Weems. We’re much better when competing, though.” You heard Wednesday say behind you after opening the door.

You stood to greet her and watched your younger sister walk up to you. You looked down at her and crossed your arms. “Sister. You look good as ever in black.”

“You look good, not in a red jumpsuit.”

You raised a brow. “A different red then.”

Wednesday glanced at Larissa before looking back at you. “Careful, she’ll scream at the sight of it…again.”

Your smirk grew, and you side-eyed Larissa. “I think I might enjoy hearing that.”

Larissa watched the interaction with wide eyes and felt herself tense up. The similar black hair, the same calculated eyes, the black clothes, the familiar defiant fire lying in wait beneath a cold stare. Larissa huffed and rolled her eyes. Well, fuck me, she thought.

#michelle's works #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader

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wastelandmoony · 1 year

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I have a Request. Best friends to lovers with James Potter. James potter stealing readers favourite shampoo. The reader notices this while she's in the shower. So angry she wraps a towel around her body and storms up to there marauders dorm with her hair soaking wet. She thinks that it was sirius who took and but she notices James in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair soaking wet. So she reaches to smell his hair only to find out that his hair smells like her shampoo

Hiya! I've actually never been sent a request before, so forgive me if it's rough <3

Summary: James is in love with Y/N, but has yet to make a move and the other Marauders are sick of it.

Genre: Fluff <3

Characters: James Potter x Y/N, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew

Warnings: language, sexual innuendo courtesy of Sirius

A/N: Reader also plays for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, if that wasn't clear.

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

The sounds of Queen echoed off the walls of the dormitory as James walked in, hair dripping into his eyes as he pushed back the soaked locks with one hand.

Peter looked up from his Transfiguration essay, “How was practice?”

James shook out his hair, returning his glasses to his face, “Brutal. I’m about to start scheduling doubles on game weeks—“

Remus glanced at the door, letting the book he was reading fall onto his lap, “Is Y/N behind you?”

James turned around, confused, “No? I was just in the showers…”

Remus leaned back against the headboard, “Huh, weird. I thought I smelled her for a moment…”

Across the room, Sirius sat up from his lounged state, “I’d kill for those heightened senses Moony. Imagine how much it’d come in handy during our little…extracurricular excursions—“

“—Just call them what they are, Pads, they’re just pranks,” Remus deadpanned, going back to his book.

“—anyway, speaking of Y/N…Prongsy over here almost got completely decked by a bludger earlier because he couldn’t keep his eyes off her,” Sirius wagged his eyebrows at James.

“Shut it, I was just…making sure her maneuvers were correct,” he tried to control the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure she can maneuver just fine, mate,” Sirius laughed as he dodged a flying chocolate frog box courtesy of James.

James smirked and walked over to his trunk to find a clean jumper.

“SIRIUS FUCKING BLACK!”

Sirius sat up abruptly, color draining from his face, “There’s no way she heard me—“

The door flew open to reveal a towel-clad, fuming Y/N, clutching an empty shampoo bottle in her hand.

James spun around and immediately flushed at the sight of her soaking wet.

She chucked the empty bottle at Sirius, who barely dodged it, throwing his hands up in confused anger.

“What the fuck did I do?!” He yelled as she stalked over to his bed.

“You used the rest of my shampoo, you fucking nob!” Her eyes narrowed.

Sirius laid back down, waving her off, “No I didn’t, it was probably Lily.”

“Let me smell your hair then,” she climbed onto his bed, trying to grab at his long black hair.

“Gerroff me,” he struggled, trying to push her hands away as she attempted to pin him down.

The other three watched in amusement as she finally gripped his head with two hands and smelled the top of Sirius’ scalp.

She sat back on her heels, face contorted in confusion.

Sirius fixed his hair, shooting her a glare, “I bloody told you, it wasn’t me.”

James went back to rummaging through his trunk, a motion that caused her to zero in on his similarly towel-clad appearance.

“Jamie—“ she called, his head popping up from his search. She watched as his wet curls dripped onto his chest, the cogs in her brain starting to turn. Rising from Sirius’ bed, she walked over to James, who froze as she drew closer.

She leaned in, smelling the familiar scent of strawberries on him, “—it was you?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Y-yeah…I ran out and it was the first thing I saw, I’m sorry.”

She smiled sweetly at him, “It’s okay, I have an extra bottle in my room if you want it?”

He nodded a little too quickly, and she turned to run back to her dorm to retrieve the extra shampoo.

The moment she disappeared, Sirius sat up and shot James a look, “You didn’t run out, there’s an entire bottle of that Sleekeazy shit in the shower, I used it earlier—“

“—he just wants to smell her,” Pete chimed in from the floor, eyes never leaving his essay.

James groaned, running both hands over his face.

“You’re hopeless, mate,” Remus sighed from his bed, “Just ask her to Hogsmeade already, put us all out of our misery…”

#james potter fanfiction #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #james potter fluff

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am-i-interrupting · 4 months

Text

For the Camera | Vox x OATSH Reader

No prior knowledge of the series required, other than reader is mixed.

Summary: You finally relented and agreed to film as a guest star in a show for your tv host friend. You end up having more fun than anticipated.

Warnings: implied racism, could be read as self image issues also

You knew you were being followed. It’s not like he was being subtle. He was basically running to catch up with you but you’d had your fair share of times where you had to move fast in heels as well as a head start.

You almost couldn’t believe the audacity but was it really do out of line for him? Maybe you just had problems with control. Okay, you knew you did but still! You’d known each other for over a year and a half now. He should know that too. Yet still, he pestered.

He kept pushing even when you shoved back. It didn’t make any sense. You could get most men to leave any subject be with a few well timed movements and words. Why was this one so hard? Why wouldn’t he just drop it?

“You do community theater!” he said as he finally caught up with you. “What’s the difference?”

“If I mess up in a community theater it’s their word against mine. If I mess up in front of a room of qualified actors and directors and set crew, not only am I getting ridiculed on a professional level but also they have proof,” you told him.

“You’ve been live on television before, what makes this different?” he asked. “I’ve messed up plenty and my reputation is still in tact.”

“But look at you,” you said with a gesture to him. “No one cares when someone like you messes up.”

“What are you,” his voice trailed off.

“It’s different, writing a book. No one has to see me when I write a book. The only reason people even know what I look like is because is because I went on your show one time and it wasn’t an art form. It was just an interview. People didn’t come to be entertained. They came to get information. A lot of people in the world don’t like looking at people like me.”

His brow furrowed as did his lips. He looked at you, softly shaking his head.

“Forget it,” you said. “I don’t even know why I’d try to explain. It’s not like you’d understand. You don’t have to put on this act but every single day I have to get up and put on a voice that isn’t mine and clothes that frankly, I don’t like and be so conscious of how I do everything just do people will have just a little bit of respect for me. Still, most of the time it’s in vain because a lot of people will still disrespect me based purely on the fact that I’m a woman. How could you understand that?”

You met his eyes for a moment but you couldn’t bare the look of confusion and pity on his face. You brushed past him and began walking away.

You’d barely gotten two yards away from him before he called out to you, “You’re right! I don’t understand what that’s like but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I like looking at you. Just think about it, please.”

You bit down on your lip as you felt it begin to tremble and cursed yourself as your eyes became watery. You didn’t say anything in reply, simply kept walking.

“Are you okay?” he asked beside you as you looked at the bustling set, having just come out of the dressing room. You didn’t answer, just twisted the sleeve of your dress. His hands clasped yours. “You’re going to do great.”

You looked up at him. “I’m not sure,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“I am.”

“Everyone in set!” the director called out.

He squeezed your hand. “You’ve got this and I’ll be right beside you the entire time.”

“I’ll track you down and kill ya if you aren’t,” you said, a bit of your southern accent slipping through before you quickly fixed it. He laughed but you didn’t find anything funny.

Then the filming process started. For the most part things went alright. Starting at the introductory scene was for the best as your nerves could come off as a character choice instead of genuine discomfort.

Of course there were some fumbles.

“Oh, you’re following me!” you said as the camera moved with you. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

You heard the man who’d brought you here try and fail to hold back a laugh. You whipped around towards him. “Don’t you laugh at me, mister. You know the only film experience I’ve had was on your show,” you said as you moved back to your original place beside him. He simply looked at you with a smile. “Shut up.”

He held his hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

For some reason, despite him telling you directly he messed up all the time, you didn’t expect him to.

You were both sitting in the couch, supposed to have a heart to heart between your characters.

“I don’t think your sister likes me,” you said.

He scooted closer to you. He shook his head as he brought his hand up to brush hair behind your ear. “If only I could remember the line and then we could play this scene so beautifully.”

The next day of filming went fairly similar as did the rest of the week. That was until the last day.

You were filming the final scene, a goodbye scene.

“I hate to say goodbye so soon,” you said. “It feels like I just got here.”

“It won’t be long before we can see each other again, dear, I promise,” he said. “The holidays are coming up soon.”

“Soon? If in nearly three months is soon to you then yes, I do suppose they are soon,” you said, letting sarcasm roll off your tongue.

“Then I suppose you don’t want an early gift?” he asked, looking at the train behind you, the station being bought out several hours to film.

“You’ve got a gift for me already?”

He looked down at you with a sly smile. Then he quickly slipped his hand around your waist and to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. He cupped your jaw with his hand as he drew you in for a kiss.

Vaguely you heard the director yelling well, directions for what to do. You weren’t entirely sure if you were following them and you didn’t exactly care.

As soon as his lips met yours, the entire world faded to black. The only thing in color was him. His hands on your back and your face. His body pressed against yours. The feeling of his shoulder underneath your arm. His hair, silky smooth underneath the layer stiff with gel. The hat that brushed against your hand and then fell in the floor as you ran your fingers through it.

He pulled away and you followed him.

You let your eyes remain closed for a moment as you found yourself already reminiscing. You dropped yourself down to the flats of your feet. You met his gaze which seemed just as hazed as your own.

Finding yourself once again in reality, where he’d just kissed you in front of a room of strangers (to you at least). “You cad,” you said breathlessly. His smile didn’t help you gain anymore oxygen

“Kissed her good, didn’t he?” a crew member said not knowing he was in earshot of you as you grabbed your things to leave.

“Ah, nothing special. It’s just television.”

You felt your heart tighten at the reminder. Quickly you grabbed your things and left, not hearing the first man say, “Looked special to me.”

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

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shadowqueenjude · 23 days

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Before we begin, please note that I have high respect for all people who have completed a degree, especially women, and I myself am a woman pursuing a degree.

Honestly this whole “degree” discourse occurring within the Elucien-Elriel-Gwynriel ship war is highly amusing to me because of this: the author in question is SJM. Typically, I’d say that someone with an English degree would be the best fit to analyze the text, but truthfully, often times it feels like not even SJM knows what she’s going to write. Plus she barely remembers what she wrote previously which leads to a high number of retcons. I have read her three most popular book series to completion: Throne of Glass. Crescent City, and ACOTAR. And I must say she is a very easy author to interpret, yet also incredibly frustrating because she so often forgets her own writing (a feat that is most prevalent in ACOTAR). From the bonus chapter and all the other context clues throughout the series, it seems obvious to me that Elucien and Gwynriel are endgame. Yet SJM has also laid out some hints of Elriel. Do I think she killed the ship and it’s a red herring? Yes. But Tamlin also showed mating instincts towards Feyre in book one (pursuing her on Calanmai and somehow everyone knew he would, plus the bite on the neck which was a mate claiming ritual according to SJM. Rowan claimed Aelin in the same manner) and SJM retconned that so thoroughly that Tamlin hardly reads as the same character.

Truthfully, the biggest sign to me that Elucien and Gwynriel are a go are the following: A, when she pitched the side books, she was put on a contract for three books: Elain, Azriel, and likely, Mor. Which means that their stories will occur in different books. Which means they will wind up with different people. B, if Elain and Lucien didn’t wind up together, it would undermine her precious mating bond. It would prove that love is greater than any mating bond, which might be a powerful moral in another author’s hands, but not SJM. It would wreck the legitimacy of ALL her endgame couples in her books. Having the mating bond snap instantly for Elain and Lucien, a first, is SJM’s chance to explore the mating bond and PROVE that it is indeed legitimate.

It would ALSO undermine the mating bond if Lucien and Elain’s mating bond was supposedly “fake” because she already did that once and if a mating bond can be faked so easily how much does it really mean?

Additionally, Azriel’s character is highly insecure. He would forever wonder whether Elain is thinking of Lucien, and also wonder if he lost a chance at his own mate.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#elucien #pro elucien #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #sjm critical

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seraphicsentences · 6 months

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red liquid is hot.

ellie williams x you

love seeing ellie dealing with her partner’s teasing. she’d look at you like this and grab your hands like this. JWKLKSSK need her so bad.

ellie williams x reader. tlou universe.

AN: can you tell i’m obsessed with the idea of movie night? tell me if this is absolutely awful. or don’t. i might not want to know.

tags: tlou universe, praise kink ellie, thigh riding, pussy grinding 😛, clit stim, fingering, making out, lowk mean fem reader, teasing, i probs missed some but u get the idea

“that’s hot,” you comment, eyes glued to the screen.

you had come over to stay the night at ellie’s, giving in to her begs about watching some weird old horror movie joel had found. it was mediocre at best, and you didn’t pay much attention to it, instead distracted by ellie’s mindless stroking on your inner thigh.

what did catch your attention was a rather attractive blood-splattered woman viciously stabbing her knife into a— by now— unrecognizable victim.

the wolffish expression on her face looked uncannily similar to ellie’s when she killed. and the way she wielded her knife…

“you’re kidding,” ellie huffs out a laugh, appalled, turning to you.

“what?… oh don’t look at me like that, I said what I said. that’s hot!” you argue.

ellie continues to stare at you, deadpanned.

“I like my women covered in blood,” you firmly state.

“you. are. SO fucked up,” ellie says, emphasizing every word to make her point. (think dina/ellie scene w/ the weed when ellie says “what. the. fuck is wrong with you.”)

you raise a brow in her direction, smirking, “you’re just jealous.”

ellie’s attitude shifts almost immediately, turning to face you entirely as she sarcastically replies, “oh totally. now can we just watch the movie or are you going to continue drooling over some red liquid?”

“to clarify, I’m drooling over a hot woman covered in ‘red liquid’,” you correct. taking notice of her clenched jaw out of the corner of your eye, you chuckle, “oh don’t worry, I still think you’re hot. the hottest.”

ellie eyes you, squinting, and promptly tells you to shut the fuck up.

finding getting ellie riled up a whole lot more interesting than the contents of the film, you continue to ramble on, “I mean… all I’m saying is that I’d let her do WHATEVER she wants to me. shit, I’ll be a hole for this girl- what’s her name again?”

ellie ignores you.

“ellieeee, what’s the hot chick’s name?” you press.

ellie full-on pauses the movie before turning to look at you, exasperated. “how do you not know her name?!! she’s the main character!”

“oh whatever, this movie’s confusing,” you retort. “how am I supposed to keep track of all these characters? hey- what’s this movie even called?” you ask.

“it’s called: ‘you should shut your mouth before it gets shut for you,” ellie dryly replies.

your lips curl up on one side, and you lean in close to ellie’s face to brush your lips against hers. “aww. you wanna shut my mouth for me?” you pout, looking down at her just- barely parted lips.

she sticks her tongue out to wet them, and you draw your gaze up; her green eyes are darkening with lust by the second. you move to lean away, satisfied with your teasing, but she wraps her arm around your back before you can fully. your head nearly collided with hers from the whiplash, eyes widened from surprise as she drawls, “you want me to, don’t you?” at your silence she lets out a low laugh, taunting, “nothing? use your words, pretty girl.”

“you’re so turned on right now, the blood’s gotten to you too,” is all you jeer.

ellie’s on top of you in a flash, hands firmly securing you by your wrists to the bed as she kisses you fervently. you can’t stop yourself from kissing her back just as passionately, letting out a groan as she slips her tongue into your mouth. your lips part, letting her in eagerly, before she moves to sloppily kiss her way down your neck.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” she says, her words slightly muffled by your skin. you mmmph in response as she chuckles, saying between kisses, “I know, I know.”

“off, ellie,” you tell her, tugging at her thin white tank top. she complies, moving it over her head swiftly with a one-armed tug, revealing her perfect tits, pointing at peaks in reaction to the cold air.

she kisses her way back up to your lips, swallowing another one of your desperate moans before moving to take off your black oversized tee (it’s actually ellie’s that she stole from joel 🙄🙄) and tossing it somewhere off the bed (i just KNOW her room has a shit ton of random things thrown everywhere). the second it makes its way over your head she moves her mouth to suckle on one of your nipples, teasing it with baby flicks of her tongue, and playfully biting.

“hey!” you yell.

“that’s what you get for being such a little shit,” she replies, smile utterly wicked as she grins up at you.

she continues to suck bruises into your chest, using her free hand to massage the other as she squeezes and pinches repeatedly. your whines fill the room, tugging at ellie’s messy half-up bun, as you sigh out, “more”.

every touch of her soft lips against your skin feels like fire, and you’re overcome with heat pulsing throughout your body. you can feel yourself soaking through your boy shorts, as you thrust your hips up against ellie in search of some kind of stimulation.

you receive only a chuckle from ellie, and she pauses her assault on your tits to move herself up to face you. tilting her head, smirking, she leans in to ask, “what do you want, gorgeous? where do you want me to touch you, huh?”

you curse ellie out mentally for being a literal chronic bully. (she is 😐. yk she’d take any and every opportunity to tease you.) blushing a furious red you mumble, “you know where. c’mon els, I need you.”

ellie scratches a finger to her head, playing dum. “I actually don’t know? I’m gonna need you to use your words.” she’s wearing a shit-eating grin looking down at you, waiting for your response.

you’re not going to give it to her.

you push past your lust-induced brain fog to muster up enough strength and push her off of you, reversing your positions so you land atop her hips.

clearly not expecting this switch of power, ellie’s eyes widen, looking unbearably sweet as she looks up at you doe-eyed. “fuck,” you hear her mutter under her breath.

without breaking eye contact, you move your hand down between her thighs to cup her, heat radiating off her as she curses again. “I want you just as bad as you want me, els. feel how wet ‘m for you,” you plead, your other hand guiding hers to your core.

she takes the hint and slides them underneath the waistband of your bottoms, teasing, before moving your legs to straddle one of her thighs so she can pull them off entirely. she eyes the dark patch spreading down the hemline and rasps, “shit- this all for me? you’re fucking soaked. gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

you moan in response, mind drilled onto her hands that are tightly gripping your hips now, probably leaving finger-shaped bruises, beckoning your hips to roll forwards on her thigh. you practically sob in relief as you move with her motions, messily grinding yourself down and spreading your arousal all over her leg.

“fu- uck, you look so pretty on top of me like this,” her voice broke with your movements. “you’re drenching my thigh. who’s making you feel this good? tell me,” she begs.

“you- ah,” you sharply inhaled, your clit rubbing perfectly against her, “you do,”

“say my name, pretty,” she says, her biceps flexing deliciously as she keeps you upright.

“ah-shit,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach building up, “ellie’s makin’ m’feel this good.”

“that’s right I am,” she agrees. she slips one of her hands between your shaking thighs to rub harsh circles into your clit, and you nearly topple onto her, crying out, “ellie-els, need you inside of me.”

“fuck- you sound so pretty,” she groans, drunk on your sounds. she moves her hand off your clit and further down to reach your sopping hole, desperately pulsing around nothing.

you’re trembling in anticipation, head tilted back, hips trying to get her closer, as you beg, “please touch me, need you so bad.”

ellie’s drawing circles around your leaking entrance with her fingertips and groans out, “look at me while you take my fingers. let me see you, c’mon.”

it’s pure desperation that fuels you to do so. her piercing eyes feel like they’re setting you alight as she softly praises, “good girl.” she stays true to her word, two fingers sliding into you easily, picking up a fast pace immediately and sending your eyes to the back of your skull. your mouth falls opens in pleasure, sounds of your wetness squelching with every jab of her fingers the only thing you hear.

“that’s it, doing so good for me,” she encourages, curling her fingers to hit that special spot in you. you audibly gasp out, “oh fuck you, ellie,” your eyebrows knitted together.

she laughs to herself, retorting, “I’m actually fucking you right now, but alright.”

you roll your eyes at her words, opening your mouth to throw some snarky comment back at her, but when she moves her thumb to press against your throbbing clit while simultaneously fucking deep into you, a recognizable warmth spreads across your lower stomach and you moan out the only word in your mind, “ellieellieellie, fuck- ellie!“

“I know,” she soothes, “you’re close, aren’t ya? come for me, pretty girl.”

Nodding, you have no choice but to oblige, rocking your hips onto her fingers as you moan out, “yes- oh fuck, I’m coming!”

your vision flashes white for a moment while you ride out the waves of pleasure hitting you one after the other. you’re sure all of Jackson can hear you from how loud you’re moaning, but you can’t bring yourself to care, focused on how good ellie’s hands are making you feel.

coming back to your senses, your arms have now collapsed of exhaustion, and you lean to rest your forehead in the crook of ellie’s neck, panting out into her ear, “so good, ellie, so good,” over and over again.

“forget about what I said earlier,” she says breathlessly, “I like you making all this noise for me.”

you laugh quietly and run your hand down the side of ellie’s body, pushing her shorts upward to squeeze her thigh. “don’t think I forgot about you,” you whisper. she shivers at your words, and you trail your hand back upwards, rising goosebumps on her skin, to caress her breasts. “bet you’re aching real bad, els,” you breathe out.

AN: i need people actually wanting a part 2 for me to actually write it. thoughts? comments? suggestions?

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desert-fern · 9 months

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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 20: Golden

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*Image is from Pinterest*

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: swearing, mostly just fluffy and sweet (lmk if I kissed anything)

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist >> Part 19 >> Part 21

===

Bear had made herself scarce on the long days aboard the Lincoln. She was finally well enough to busy herself with work, dealing with paperwork and helping Bug work through the massive amounts of evidence they had against Hazard. It had surfaced from the Riyadh Air Base Commander that a few others were likely involved in the scheme and that Hazard had to have had help in orchestrating what he had. Bear knew his work ethic and there was no way that he and Chip were the only ones involved. Hazard could barely complete his paperwork by himself.

So she, Bug, Flare, and Phoenix, who was acting as the Daggers representative, spent hours combing through everything. “So, what I’m hearing,” Phoenix began, shuffling through the file in front of her. “Hazard was in contact with this Saif character weeks before the mission…”

“So before or after he planted the keystroke recorder on my laptop?” Bear asked, stretching out lightly, still trying to avoid pulling the few remaining stitches left in her torso. “Because the pieces I have say that he planted this thing after he made contact.”

Bug snorted at how Bear was holding the keystroke tracker, dangling it between her fingers and letting it swing in the air. “That was my thought too.”

“Wait, you had the wrong documents on the way to Riyadh, right?” Flare spoke up suddenly. She’d been awfully quiet lately, something that was unusual for the young woman. “I spoke with IT when we got to the base, and they told me that they didn’t find anything odd in the software, only one strange login that required three different password retries. Maybe that’s when he fucked with the email?”

“He fucked with a lot more than just my email,” Bear groused. Her pride was still wounded from how easily Hazard had been able to fool her. How his greed had not only nearly destroyed her, but also had resulted in Jake getting caught up in the middle of everything and was nearly killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “He deserves so much worse than what is coming to him.”

The other women in the room nodded. Flare biting her lip to stop it from trembling. She had been adopted in a way by Bear, the older woman serving as a mentor to her throughout her journey to becoming a Lieutenant. So when Bear had vanished, been taken, Mei had broken down the minute she saw Bug shake her head sadly. Even just thinking about the events made her heart break. “He does,” Flare mumbled in the silence that had befallen the room. “I’d give it to him if that weren’t Shrike’s job.”

“You and me both, Mei,” Phoenix replied, her face drawn together in a frown. She had seen first hand how Bear’s disappearance had impacted everyone, herself included. Bear had brought them all together, sewn the two teams into one single-handedly, and her absence had hurt every single person who cared for her. Not to mention Jake. The blonde had been practically inconsolable the minute he found out she was gone and had dove head first into helping Bug and Fireball sort out what they knew from what they didn’t.

It had been both good to see and worrying all at the same time. Jake had barely taken a moment to breathe; all he had wanted was to bring Bear home. Home to him. Bear, however, had had other plans. She crawled her way out of the unimaginable hell she had been through, and stood in the open doorway like a ghost. Phoenix had spent those in between weeks keeping an eye on Jake, making sure he ate, showered, and above all, had a place to grieve. They had become unlikely friends as they grieved together, leaning on the other in a way they never deemed possible.

Jake had been absent since the USS Abraham Lincoln had left Jebel Ali and it was worrying to Phoenix. She now sat in another meeting room, this time without him, and she couldn’t help but be concerned. “Though I’m pretty sure Shrike led Hazard directly into Jake’s path.” Her voice broke the pensive silence that had blanketed the room.

Bear grinned, a toothy expression that was so much like her old self that it made the others in the room smile too. “That wouldn’t surprise me,” she mused aloud. “Bug made it clear that the Seals couldn’t touch him, but as Maverick and Jake told me a few days afterwards, they were under no such instructions.”

Flare nodded. “Maybe they should have been. I know that Nat over here would have killed him if Jake hadn’t gotten there first.” She was met with a sharp look from Phoenix, but Mei stood her ground. “What? I wanted to kill him too, but that wouldn’t solve anything.”

“Still,” Phoenix grumbled. She had folded her arms across her chest, staring darkly at Flare. “He hurt my friends. You should be thankful that it wasn’t my fiancée here instead of me. Hazard would be a grease spot.”

“Fiancée?” The room was quick to explode into questions, making Phoenix lean back in her chair, trying to get away from the chaos that had erupted among the women.

Bear looked at Phoenix curiously. “Man or woman?”

“Woman, why? You have a problem with that?” The pilot’s voice was sharp, challenging. She was daring Bear to say something, anything.

“Not at all.” Bear was calm, almost amused by the look in Phoenix’s eyes. “I have two moms, Natasha and have been known to have a girlfriend too. I was merely curious.”

The anger appeared to visibly leave Phoenix at Bear’s words. “Okay then. And yeah, she proposed a few weeks before we left.”

“Congratulations, Nix,” Bug told her, smiling gently. “I think now is a good time for a break, don’t you?”

“Oh for sure.” Bear nodded. “Take a break ladies. I’ll lock up after you all.” She stood up and ushered the other three out of the room before shutting the door and sitting back down. She has wasted so much time recovering that she was behind when it came to her job, so she had to make up the time. Whether or not people understood wasn’t the point, Bear took pride in her work and the fact that she had been captured and nearly killed because someone on her team betrayed her would be a story told with her name for years to come. All of the admirals who had opposed her promotion would use this as ammunition to defend their positions on why women couldn’t be Seals.

She wouldn’t let them.

Her job was hers for a reason.

So she had to prove them wrong. Hazard would pay and Bear would get the last laugh.

She wouldn’t let him win.

So she busied herself with the papers covering the table in front of her, and there she sat, reading frantically and desperately searching for the missing piece.

====

Jake knocked on the door that he knew Bear was hiding out in. He hadn’t seen her for longer than ten minutes at a time over the 18 days that had passed while traveling, and he was worried for her. A part of him wondered desperately if she still cared for him like she had assured him she did, if Bear could tear herself away from plotting revenge for just a moment to be with him.

And what if she couldn’t? What did that mean for them?

But, they could discuss this later.

They had to.

He received no response from the other side of the door, so when he tried the door, he was surprised that it even opened. “Teddy? You in here?”

Nothing. Just silence.

Jake stepped into the room, eyes widening at the papers scattered about the room. He couldn’t find Bear at first glance, but hidden behind a stack of papers, her head pillowed on her arms, sat a sleeping Bear. “Teddy…” he whispered, grinning a little as she stirred at the sound of his voice. “It’s late, darlin’.”

“Hmmm…” Bear let out a soft, sleepy noise at the sound of his voice, shuffling a little towards the noise source. She was dreaming, but was still lucid enough to understand the words being said. “Jake?”

His face split into a grin, loving how soft and sleepy she was. Jake had been lucky over the weeks to see more than the one side of herself that she usually displayed. It was almost like Bear was intentionally dropping her walls when he was around and it thrilled him to see a part of her that she usually kept hidden. “Yeah darlin’, it’s me.”

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Came to get you so you could go to bed. It’s late Teddy.” He was amused by the situation, loving her messy hair that had slid from its bun, and felt himself fall a little more for the woman across from him.

“It is? I swear I was only in here for an hour…” she trailed off, glancing at her watch. “Never mind, I guess I got caught up in this.”

“Did you find anything out?” Jake took a seat next to Bear, chuckling as she propped her booted feet up on his lap.

“I did,” Bear began, flipping through the pile of papers she’d been pouring over earlier. “He had help. Saif had him recruit four others that were completely useless to the plan by the way, but we have two of them in custody now. Apparently there was someone else with the four, someone who fought Hazard on every turn. Colton mentioned often that this person was a huge flight risk.”

Jake’s face darkened. “Who?”

“Easy Flyboy. I took care of it.” Bear had scooted her chair closer to him, gently smoothing the crease between his eyebrows with the pad of her thumb. “They will be handled accordingly.”

“I know. I know. It just pisses me off that this happened so easily,” Jake whispered, leaning into her touch. “All because a man got too greedy.”

“Chip surrendered to us a few days ago. Told us that he had been blackmailed into joining Hazard. He will likely face time, but he never actually did anything. Only acted as a lookout for Hazard under threat. Dex, on the other hand, keeps denying everything.” Bear ran a hand over her face, pinching at the bridge of her nose. “We have theories on the other two, but no identities yet.”

“Maybe I can help?” Jake offered. He had theories of his own while helping Bug and Fireball. Dex had been one of his picks early on, while Gallows and Dodger, his other two had shown no indication of involvement but that didn’t change the gut feeling he had. “Would Chip indicate who else is involved?”

“Maybe. But it’s late and I should go to bed. This will all be here in the morning.” Bear yawned, stretching out. “Ow!”

“Are you okay?”

Bear smiled softly. “I’m fine. Just pulled on a stitch, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her. “Flyboy. I would tell you if I wasn’t fine, okay?”

“Okay.” But he didn’t look sure. So Bear slid from her chair to his lap, peppering kisses over his face.

“Believe me now?” she asked, kissing his nose.

“Mhmm.” Jake had been caught off guard by her movement, but let his hands wander down to her ass, squeezing it once, twice. “I do.”

Bear grinned as she kissed him again, letting herself relax against his chest after pulling back. “You sure? I thought for a moment I took the last Dagger braincell.”

“Darlin’, you’ve had my last one for ages,” Jake replied, grinning at the woman in his lap. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sap.”

“Mmm you love me.”

“I do.”

Jake kissed her forehead, smiling against her skin when Bear curled closer to him, burying her nose into the crook of his shoulder. “Come on Teddy. You need to go to sleep somewhere that isn’t a table.”

“But it’s comfy,” she mumbled against his shirt. “And I’m already dressed.”

“That’s great for a nap,” Jake countered. He loved Bear. Honestly he did. But how she had survived this long on her own was a miracle to him. She lived simply and from what he had seen, she seemed to have a hard time putting herself first.

It was a good thing that he was here now, he hummed to himself, letting his hands move up and down her back. He would always put her first. Bear was worth it. She was worth everything. “But you need real sleep. In bed. Not on a table.”

“Hmmm.” Bear let out a soft noise, already half asleep from Jake’s warmth and the steady thrum of his heart. “Kay.”

“Come on Teddy. I can’t carry you to bed like I did before,” he whispered, gently running the back of his hand over her face. “You have to stand up.”

Bear groaned, moving her hips back slowly before placing a foot on the ground. “I really don’t want to right now.” She knew that whining like a child probably wasn’t the best move, but she was too tired to care.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Darlin’, you gotta. I can’t carry you. C’mon, help me out here.”

“Fine.” Bear slid out of his arms, standing between his legs. “I guess I’ll just be cold all night long then.” She knew it was a low blow, but she was too tired and too caught up in his touch to care. All Bear wanted was to be close to him tonight. To share in his warmth, his touch. She wanted to wake up with his arms around her, with her head on his chest, like she had those weeks in Riyadh. It wasn’t fair to have the distance between them, but Bear couldn’t be caught. So despite her insistence, she knew that it wasn’t fair to either of them to keep pushing. “Goodnight Jake.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Hold on now, darlin’.” Jake shot to his feet, following Bear out the door and down the deserted halls. “Don’t run away from me.”

“If I were to run, would you chase?” The glint in her eyes was full of mischief, practically daring him to try something in the middle of the empty corridor. “Or would you stand and watch?”

“Careful Teddy. Don’t push your luck.” Bear saw his pupils dilate suddenly, the comforting green eclipsed in a moment. “You’re playing with fire.” He’d backed her up against one of the walls, looming over her. Jake looked smug as he braced himself with an arm next to her head.

“Is that right?” The smirk on her face grew wider and Bear slipped out of her position with a practiced ease. She stood a ways off from him, grinning as Jake drew a shuddering breath, almost like he was trying to restrain himself. From what? Well, she had a few ideas. Namely her finally finding out if the rumors that she had heard on base were grounded in fact or fiction. “And what are you going to do about it?”

A muscle in his jaw tensed. Jake knew that her baiting him would only end in a position that neither could explain if caught, but goddamn was he willing to take that risk. The sounds that Bear would make; the whimpers under his mouth, the shivers as his touch turned teasing. God help him. He wasn’t strong enough to handle the temptation that was every little thing she did, and it was only a matter of time before his grip on his resolve snapped. Then, only then, would he show her exactly what he would do about it. But for now, Jake grit his teeth and kept his mouth shut.

His non-reaction made Bear pause. She had finally caught on to the amount of self-control he had. From his darkened gaze, to the tenseness of his muscles, she finally saw just how on edge he was. All because of her. The thought hit like a freight train and she could feel heat pooling behind her legs at the look he was giving her.

But they couldn’t. Not yet anyhow. They both knew that once they gave in to the desire, there was no going back. So Bear let her smirk fall a little, watching Jake step towards her. “I’d show you here and now what I would do about this little attitude,” he growled. “But you deserve better than that.”

She grinned, the thought spiraling through her mind. She needed him, needed to feel him, to feel the muscles she’d traced over during countless make out sessions. But that was for another time. Bear bit her lip, looking up into his eyes, watching the pupils constrict and his eyes return to the lovely green she adored. She took a cautious step forward, placing a hand against Jake’s nearly heaving chest. “I can’t wait,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“Mmmm…” Jake hummed, watching her step back and continue down the hall. All it took was for her to get close, to tease, to give him some sign that she was willing to relinquish her control, and Jake could barely control himself. “Goodnight Teddy.”

She had led him to her room, standing in the open door and looked up at him. “Goodnight Flyboy. For real this time.” Bear was watching the emotions flicker over Jake’s face as he stood over her, his eyes hidden in shadow but she could make out the very real glimmer in them.

“Teddy…” His voice was rough, sending more shivers racing through her body, but there was hesitation. Like he regretted saying what he had moments earlier.

“Jake?”

He licked his lips, lost in thought. “Yeah. Jus’ thinkin’.” The twang on his words made Bear grin a little, stepping closer so that they were almost chest to chest.

“Thinking about what?” She was grinning, relishing in his hesitation and she had a sneaking suspicion that she was what was occupying so much of his brain space.

“You.” Even though Bear had expected it, the weight of the word hit hard, slamming into her body like she wished he would. “Thinkin’ ‘bout you, Teddy.”

She swallowed hard, her brown eyes flicking over his face, searching for any indication that he was lying. “I should…” her hushed tone was so unlike her. It was too timid, too fragile.

“Yeah…”

“Jake?”

“Teddy?”

“I love you,” she whispered, letting her words fill the silence between them.

Jake’s hand slid along her jaw, cupping her face. He knew that she could see his gaze tracing an invisible line from the chocolate brown of her eyes to the lips he wanted to feel everywhere, but he couldn’t find it within him to care. So he bent down and closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers like he’d kissed them a million and one times before. He felt her sigh against his mouth, which made him grin when he pulled back. “I love you more.”

A soft look flickered over her face, the very same look he would wake up to less than a week ago. “That’s not possible,” Bear replied softly, the earlier heat between them reduced to a low simmer. “I don’t know if you can, but you can sure try.”

“Mmm. I’ll spend my life convincing you.” And damn her to Hell if those words didn’t send her heart racing. Jake was here, practically ready to pledge himself to her forever. The rational part of her was screaming that it was too early, but that one part was bouncing up and down in exhilaration, thrilled to have found Jake. “See if I don’t, darlin’.”

Bear smiled up at him, indulging him in another gentle kiss. “I need to sleep, like you said earlier.” She tried to back up, but Jake slipped his arms around her, doing his best to keep her from moving. “Jake, honey. Come on.”

“Not without me.”

“Jake… you know we can’t.”

He heaved a sigh, playing it up a little to hear Bear let slip that little giggle that never failed to make his heart sing. “Fine. But I want to see you tomorrow at some point.”

“Deal.” Bear stuck her tongue out at him, grinning as he pressed a kiss to her nose, making her giggle again.

“Good.” Jake was still holding her close, savoring their proximity and the feeling of her against him.

“Ummm… Flyboy?” Bear was laughing gently at his hold on her. “You do have to let me go.”

“Fine.” Jake stepped back, giving her one last peck before leaving her standing at the open doorway, watching him retreat down the hall away from her.

===

Bear kept her promise the next day, having stepped out of her meetings to have lunch with Jake. They sat together with Rooster and Bob, both men expressing their desires to see their partners after having been away for far longer than expected.

“Well she understood, but hated every minute of the fact that she couldn’t fly out here.” Rooster had just stuffed a mouthful of his sandwich in his face and had been waving his hand around in an attempt to explain. “She’s Navy too,” he turned to Bear to clarify.

“So am I going to face the gauntlet that are the Dagger wives?” Bear asked jokingly, grinning at the look on Bob’s face.

Bob shrugged. “Maybe. All I know is that I have one hell of an apology to make,” he said, taking a sip of his water. They had become close since Jake had beaten the shit out of Hazard weeks ago, Bob providing a calming soundboard for her frustration about how easily she’d been fooled. It was something she hadn’t felt comfortable sharing with Jake just yet, and Bob offered his ear.

“You have one hell of a lucky woman, Bob.” Bear shot the bespectacled man a wink, before turning to Rooster. “You too, as I would imagine. Us Navy ladies are a force.”

Rooster grinned at her. He still didn’t trust the attachment that she and Jake had, but she was fun to be around, so he could look past what he still viewed as a trauma bond and just focus on befriending Bear. “You haven’t met Nix’s girl yet, have you?” He asked with a smirk.

“No, why?”

“Rooster, man, don’t.” Jake’s tone was off, like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t. “C’mon.”

“You wanna tell her, or should I?”

Bear glanced between the two men, confusion filling her expression. “Tell me what?”

Jake sighed, eyes narrowed at the man across from him. “Nix’s girl is my ex,” he said simply.

“You’re clearly over her though, right?” Bear was watching him carefully, reading every microexpression that crossed his face.

“Yes. I am.”

“Good. So I don’t see the problem here, Bradshaw,” Bear spoke coolly. Jake had told her about Rooster’s insistence that they had trauma bonded over everything that had happened in Riyadh and she still wasn’t completely over it. “I don’t know what you were hoping for here.”

“I meant nothing by it,” Rooster said quickly. He had been caught off guard at the frigidity of her tone and knew that he had made a misstep. “Just that Bagman over there has a type. Women that could and would kick his ass. Reaper is exactly like that.”

“Sounds like my type of woman,” Bear mused aloud, shooting Jake a wink.

“She’s amazing,” Bob chimed in, trying to break the tension that had erupted moments earlier. “Nat loves her so much that it’s insane.”

“Damn right I do,” Phoenix said as she came and sat next to Bob, reaching over to slap Rooster upside the head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do Chicken, but knock it off.”

Rooster swallowed hard, trying not to choke on his food. “I was just… never mind.”

“Good.” Bear nodded before standing up. “I have to go get the last of my stitches out, so I will see you guys later.”

“Hold up.” Jake stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and got up after her. “I’m comin’ with you.”

Bear rolled her eyes playfully. “Anyone else want to tag along?” She asked, glancing at Rooster and Bob.

“I’ll come to make sure that Jake doesn’t crack his head open when he inevitably faints at the sight of blood,” Bob said, grinning at his teammate. He had gotten a lot more comfortable with his team and they soon found that his shyness hid a wicked sense of humor.

“Bradshaw?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Alright then kiddos,” Bear said teasingly. “Let’s go.”

===

Bear had finally gotten the last few stitches out and she was so fucking happy. The itchiness was gone and she could finally stretch without fearing that she would tear something. So it was a great day.

Her and Bob were chatting about restaurants in San Diego, what their favorites were, recommendations for date nights, and the like. Jake was walking behind them, just content to be with her before Bear darted off into the pile of paperwork that was continuously looming over her. “No!” Bear exclaimed loudly, bumping into Bob. “You never go to Lorenzo’s for a special occasion!”

“Why not?”

“Well, let me tell you all about…” Bear went into a ramble that Bob seemed to follow, but she had lost Jake almost immediately.

They continued walking, Bear and Bob filling the silence with their chatter, until Bob ran into someone.

“Well, well, well,” said a familiar voice. “Look what they just decided to throw into my path. Commander Bitch, her lap dog, and Where’s Waldo.”

===

A/N: Ooops… 🫣 I did say we weren’t completely done with the drama and yeah… big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 & @sarahsmi13s for your support. And even bigger thanks to @dakotakazansky for helping me with plot lines.

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

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