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#they give each other 'the look' TM
rubydubydoo122 · 5 months
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Guys, if we make Tim South East Asian, we can have all the boy Robins be Brown. Dick's Romani, a large amount of people Hc Jason as Latino, and Damian is Arab. I'm pretty sure the current Tim hc race is half Korean, but like... I can see Tim being half Singaporean, or Indonesian. It would also be really funny because it would make Damian and Tim look really similar and just imagine a random white lady walking up to the both of them and going "Oh! is this your brother?" and Damian going "No! I'm not related to Drake!" and it happens seven times and ends in Damian begrudgingly saying, "Yes, though he is adopted"
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yarnacle · 3 months
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there's something so delicious about two [assumedly, ive not scoured their wikipedia articles] straight men being so comfortable with each other. something so comforting in knowing that yeah they've got this wackass sexual tension on screen and [supposedly] off and they're described as each other's boyfriends jokingly and there are endless jokes about their homoerotic relationship and yknow what. they're just fine with that. they say they love each other and they're physically affectionate and they shower each other with compliments and they make fucking soup for each other and. and they're just so soft. there's something so tasty about that. that that's something that's just fine. they are, for all of the jokes and weird energy, best friends and they've got sketchy undertones but they just. are something. and it's weird and vaguely indescribable but that's fine and. and it's just so. i go a bit feral over them.
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skwtches · 1 year
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once again, it is indeed Chaggie Day on twitter
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel fanart#fanart#chaggie#charlie x vaggie#shipping#these two r very cute i love em#rly wish we had more of them being a couple in the pilot bc it’s rly obvious just how last minute the decision to make em girlfriends-#instead of just Besties(tm) was#‘but *i* never refer to my friends by calling them hun-‘ one of my friends calls each person in our friend group ‘darling.’#friends giving each other platonic petnames isn’t out of the ordinary. just depends on the ppl#y’all don’t have to keep defending the way they’re written in the pilot y’know. it’s already been confirmed that they weren’t supposed to -#be a couple until DURING the storyboardung process when ppl on the crew began shipping them#also don’t make me bring up the character sheets that vivzie made during production where vaggie was only referred to as charlie’s-#best friend#BUT ALL THAT ASIDE#from the looks of it they’re most likely gonna be more openly romantic in the show and i’m looking forward to that#in addition i’m hoping for more substance in their dynamic#the pilot gives em an interesting base for a relationship but i rly wanna see more of what they have in common + how they express affection-#for one another#also hoping that neither (mostly vaggie) loses characterization in favor of only being characterized by their relationship#like- i don’t see them becoming as bad as m&m where millie is barely a character in comparison to moxxie#and to be fair charlie IS the protagonist so it’s no surprise if she has more characterization than everyone else in the main cast#all in all i just hope vaggie gets enough time to shine as her own character outside of her relationship & physical capabilities#tl;dr: lemme get inside vaggie’s head goddamnit
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lisbonsteresa · 7 months
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you ever just
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🪶
#not to be weird on main but jaysteph hallmarkesque fic where it's like. steph has been away at college#and comes back to gotham on holiday break absolutely jonesing to get back into ''the family business'' aka vigilantism#she and jason were childhood acquaintances (schoolbus theory!!!) and worked together a bit before she went to school#steph has an argument with tim about something stupid (no they're not dating at this point they're just besties and both a bit petty)#so they're at odds and the whole family is a bit tense bc there's a Big Case going on and B is away on JL business#(B has promised he'll be back in time for Christmas. he is SCRAMBLING to keep this promise.)#anyway: cue steph deciding to make things a little easier on dick by handling arrangements for The Christmas Eve Gala TM#and recruiting jason (who is honestly just along for the ride/lowkey keeps mom-friending literally everyone in the absense of bruce)#they end up doing Shenanigans while trying to pull this event off and not cause any more trouble for alfred#while also working that Big Case during the nighttime and dealing with regular Family Tensions.#steph is also conflicted about transfering back to gotham u or staying with her current program that isn't really doing it for her#(jason is also considering enrolling in college now that he's legally alive again and is struggling a little with Being Alive)#at some point they end up reminiscing about their shenanigans as kids who rode the same schoolbus#and there's this really emotional moment like ''sometimes i wonder why I'm even allowed to be alive. why did we get to come back''#and all that. steph has a mild existential crisis brought on by emotions running high and sleep deprivation#thats basically her asking how she's able to go to college. she should have brain damage after being technically dead for minutes like that#and jason is like ''i DID have brain damage'' and they just look at each other and it's like this *zing* moment#like hotel transylvania skkdfnskfnsk#anyway yeah college girl steph home for the holidays falling for the guy she used to sit with on the bus??? i am Thinking#also samsung needs to give me a starling emoji smh
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niuxita21 · 2 years
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[...] And I’m not big on giving gifts. Oh, that’s not true, Ana! You’ve given me so much. Experience, knowledge, one or two headaches... But seriously, I’ve learned so much from you. And I from you. What more can you hope for in an adventure companion. In this life filled with sacrifices and great challenges, we have to walk alongside those who give us strength and make us grow. And you and I together are invincible.
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getoswhore · 2 years
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GIVE HIM A CHANCE SH0RT GUYS NEED LUV :(
I RLLY WOULD LOVE TO BUT IDK IF ITS ACTUALLY HIM YET!!! the person who msg me hasn't replied yet 😔
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multiverse-menagerie · 7 months
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Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?
I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss
Gale
At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter
He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby
Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”
He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining
Shadowheart
As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure
shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings
Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off
Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again
Astarion
STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??
recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked
It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages
If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)
Wyll
He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to
when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered
He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns
Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)
Karlach
Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it
If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped
Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes
jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”
Lae’zel
She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything
But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised
Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.
Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.
Halsin
At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work
When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.
Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out
You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair
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peachesofteal · 11 months
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Mermaids
Simon Riley masterlist
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Simon Riley/mermaid!reader 8.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dark themes. Magical beings eating human hearts. Magic. Blood, Violence. Explicit sex. Blood kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Dubious consent. Possessive Simon Riley. "And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart" - F+TM
It begins early this year.
Earlier than usual, when your hunting ground in the mortal world was just starting to turn green, shaking its frosted and frozen branches free to make room for bright blooms and emerald leaves. Just as the steps of Brighton Pier changed from ice slick ledges to waterlogged, weeping wooden planks, and human clothing shifted from long coverings that protected their fragile membranes from the bitter wind to soft and flowing fabrics that allowed their bodies to breathe.
This time of the year the mortal world was alive. Full of rebirth and growth, strong and vibrant.
Vibrant, like the song that began early this year, the frequency echoing deep below the water’s surface to where you waited for its pull. The siren song of a true treasure, far beyond any other, the melody of your chosen, the ebb and flow of the rhythm that is not unlike the sea. The siren song of a mortal’s heart, the cacophony able to reach you and your sisters far below the swell and crash of the ocean, far beyond where the light ceases, the melody possessing the ability to pull you to the surface once a year.
Once a year, to hunt.
One a year, to dance and drink and fall in love, if only for a night.
Once a year, to sacrifice a human heart.
Your eldest sister holds you tight to her body in an embrace as the sun rises. Elegant fingers fuss with your hair, smoothing and tugging and pulling, a vain attempt at taming something wilder than her own heart. Her face is grim, a black void that reflects no joy or excitement, just dread. It is a mirror of yourself. It is a pain that you know too well.
“What bothers you?”
You are the last two left on the beach. The others have all gone, eager to stretch their legs and seek their own songs, the trill of the blood bubbling up in their veins, their bodies pulled like magnets to the source. One heart, one song, one human male for each sister, poor mortals who have no idea what awaits them today, their ignorance bliss on the last night of their lives. Your sisters, as well as you, all live for this night. The joy of the love, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of the ichor that sustains you. The anticipation of this night fills your dreams with swirls of violent songbird chords and sweet melodies of affection. It is all you talk about for cycles, leading up to the day when you leave the water at sunrise and your tail shifts and shatters to reveal two very human looking legs.
“I am weary.” She tells you plainly, an announcement that does not come as a surprise. You have watched how she fades. Watched her linger in the darkness of the caves, watched her float lifelessly on slow currents, gaze hollow, vigor lost. “My song is faint.” She pushes further, holding your hand tightly as she releases you from her embrace. “I think I may not take a heart this year.” But we must. Must we? It was a question unanswered, but one that plagued you both. How else could you live, if not for these sacrifices?
“You would choose to die.” You surmise and she gives you a curt nod, as if it is obvious. As if her admission does not rattle you down to your very bones. Perhaps you too, one day, would make this choice. Would choose not to hunt. Choose not to love and lose. The notion pains you, fills you with sorrow as it has for many, many years. This was not an unknown feeling, even though you still experienced the joy, the bliss of your hunting, of the harvesting, you still felt the pang of loss every time, stronger and stronger as the years ticked by.
“It aches now, knowing I will fall in love this night, just for it to end as the sun rises.” The sea crashes onto the beach behind the two of you, and her lips part with a smile before she leans in to graze a kiss along your cheek. “Happy hunting, my sister.”
The song encourages you onward, leading you through a maze of streets and buildings while the sun rises and lingers in the sky. You comb the city for your male, following the electric hum of the song through alleys and neighborhoods, stopping to enjoy the day, your one day on land, as often as you can. You relish in the things that are rare for you, the taste of coffee and human food, the smell of flowers in the park, the feel of grass on the bare pads of your feet. The dress you’ve chosen flutters in the breeze, allowing the cool air to caress your skin softly, and the sun beams down on your exposed limbs, warming you under its light as you indulge in mortal world. It is nice, you decide while you bask in its rays, to feel the sun as humans do. Such spoiled creatures, being so close to something that gives so much life.
That same sun begins to sink lower behind the skyline and you’re still mindlessly gazing at small insects and diving birds when your heart trills, the force of the song slamming between your ribs, a smattering of warning bells going off within you. He’s close, your blood croons, so, so close. The incessant rattle, the insistent pull is enough to bring you to your feet and anxiously smooth the wrinkles of your clothing, eyes darting wildly around while you hunt for the source, feet flying beneath you. So close, so close. 
You come to a stop in front of a pub where a black door is propped open, music and revelry echoing from inside. Here. He’s here. The supersonic vibrato that hums in your own blood draws you into the dimly lit bar, and you hear the song in his veins grow even stronger when you step through across the threshold. He is not hard to find, this close, and your magic strings out before you, weaving and seeking past the bodies that dance closely on the floor, each as desperate for one another as you have grown for your mortal and his song.
 He stands in the back, half covered by shadow, the dark pitch of the room matching his clothes and the mask he wears over most of his face. Everything about him is bigger than the males that have called to you in the past, his height, his arms, the width of his shoulders, even the feeling of him in this place. Everywhere you venture, every spot you position yourself in, you feel his eyes on you. He is unusual, and watches, from his vantage point, his companions, other humans, the bartender.
You perch atop a barstool on the opposite side of the room to study him. His eyes carry a ferocity, a heaviness of emotion that stirs the blood running through your own veins until it is pounding in your ears. The severity of him nearly intimidates you, the level of his awareness, the pools of his amber rich brown eyes occasionally flicking over to where your fingers wrap around a glass of beer, the heat of his gaze searing away at your skin underneath the dress. The mask confuses but does not caution you, and your own heart now beats in time with his due to your proximity. Handsome. You muse to yourself, caught up in tracing the outline of his cheekbones. Beautiful, in a dark way. 
There is something about him. Something ruinous, something different. Something you cannot name.
It is of no consequence. You are the huntress. You will have your prize, your immortality, the taste of his heart on your tongue. His death becomes your life. His love, his heart, becomes yours, for eternity.
But how nice, might it be, to keep this one? It is an impossible thought, a dreamless idea, but one that still crosses your mind. The fantasy of falling in love for eternity, of having more than one night, more than the blood and violence that follows, more than the loss that would sustain you. If it were to be one, you know you’d choose this one. Your thoughts stray to your sister for a moment, imagining her alone beneath the surface, mourning the centuries of life she has lived, the centuries of love she has lost. Did she know this feeling? This hopelessness, this despair. Your lips tug downward as you consider her words. It aches. It aches, knowing I will fall in love this night, only for it to end as the sun rises. Gloom washes through you, your own yearning itching inside your soul, your desperation for your human itching at your skin. It aches. It aches, it ach-
“Hello.” Someone says from behind you, a deep, distinct voice, and you snap upwards, straightening your posture to turn into the body that crowds you. You jerk backwards on the stool when you realize how close he is, the action unsettling you from your seat, and you slip forward, nearly falling free from your wooden perch. Balance on land is difficult, and yours is perpetually off, a skill you've never mastered. A massive hand wraps around your elbow to right you, gently steadying you, and your jaw goes slack when you finally look up.
It's him. 
“Hi.” You smile, trying to recover from your less than graceful impression. Your heart thunders in your chest, and the melody inside him screams for you.
“I’m Ghost.” He motions to your mostly empty beer and raises his completely barren one in return. “Buy you another?”
The indulgent smile that scrawls across your face is practically involuntary as you give your answer.
“Sure.”
His name isn’t Ghost, but he keeps his true name close and won’t give it to you. You give him a nickname, one you usually use on land, and he doesn’t bat an eye, even when you tell him it’s a pet name and not your real one with a wink. The name Ghost doesn’t strike you as odd, after learning what he does, why he keeps it tucked away, and you marvel at him while he tells gives you bits and piece of himself, occasionally peeling his mask up to drink. He’s a solider, a Lieutenant in a special task force, some of which he happens to be out with tonight. He likes bourbon, specifically from a certain region in America, and he smells like the forest. You lean closer, completely unable to stop yourself, inhaling as deeply as you can, breathing in the mossy, earthy, green scent that hovers in the air around him. It was heady, and endless, and wrapped you in a dizzying cocoon of memories that you couldn’t place, but clearly envisioned. Forests, teeming with life and glowing chartreuse from top to bottom, oceans with aquamarine waters, shallow pools for you to bathe in under the sun, the water crisp and cold, your skin eagerly soaking it up its potent brine. Sapphire skies, the beaches stretching on and on, their seas fathomless, their bounties endless. You push closer, nosing as near as you can to his skin and take a lungful of the air. Strange. You knew humans wore things to mask or change their scents, but had never encountered one so… affecting.
“Alright, love?” He brushes the lightest contact of his fingers against yours, and you straighten, eyes ducking down in embarrassment.
“Yes, sorry. I- I was… distracted.”
Unusual indeed. 
One drink turns to many, and you carefully note how Ghost’s posture becomes more relaxed, shoulders less tense as the two of you indulge. He continues to surveil the room, observing and cataloguing, and you find it dangerously appealing, how in tune he is to his surroundings. How vigilant. Your hand lays gently on his thigh when you can no longer hold off the desire for physical touch, and he inclines his head to speak above your ear, the warmth of his cheek behind the fabric pressed casually to your head.
“D’ya want to go somewhere else?” Yes. You nod, and he motions to his group before excusing himself, his large body cutting a path through the packed room like he’s parting the sea.
You note the couplings around the bar as Ghost approaches his companions, leaning down to speak to one who is seated, legs spread wide on a faux velvet chair. He has a mohawk, and cerulean blue eyes that trace you from head to toe after Ghost begins to walk back towards where you're seated. You break the eye contact hastily, observing the others, pity pulling on your heart strings over a distraught female who sits in a corner, watching another with longing. The state of her broken heart is written all over face, her body rife with grief. The object of her affection, another stunningly beautiful female, dances with a different mortal, her artfully woven hair spiraling from her shoulders in tune to the way she moves her body. They have it so hard, you think. The song does all the work for us. You never have to woo your mortals, just provide them with the opportunity to find you. The song pushes them to seek you out, drives them to near madness unless they are in your company. They don’t always love you back, as you love them, certainly. But you never have to vie for their attention, never have to posture for their affection.
A large hand takes yours, warm and beating with the pulse of his heart, the rhythm of the song.
“Ready?” You open your mouth to say yes but nothing comes out, and the feeling of dread, the ache swamps you for a passing second. I think I may not take a heart this year. All you can do is nod.
As he leads you through the crowd, you cannot help but reach forward with your free hand and clasp onto the dancing woman. She pauses, eyes lighting wantonly when she sees you, but you push a sprinkle of magic through her, sparking desire in the base of her consciousness for the mournful dove in the chair.
You don’t look back at either of them as you leave, and silently pray to no one that they find happiness in love, that they relish it and keep one another, if only for you.
You bring him to the beach, as is your custom. It was where you felt safest, closest to the ocean, it’s where your power felt most pure should you need it, should something go wrong. You shiver at the thought, shoving down the memories that threaten your balance, and you clutch Ghost’s hand.
“Come down here often?” He inquires and you shrug, a response you know mortals are fond of.
“I like it here.” You offer, and he hums in acknowledgement. You tug him towards the overhang of the pier, where the shadows will shield you, where no one dares to venture. The only light comes from the moon, it’s silver glow glittering dimly through worn wooden pier slats, and you watch it catch his eye, his pupil expanding and contracting as you step closer and closer. “I want to kiss you.” you implore. “Will you remove your mask?” The song. You’re depending on the song to help you with this, depending on his desire, the power of the melody in his veins to urge him to comply with your request, and when he tilts his head like he’s considering you, you hold your breath.
It happens quickly. He removes the mask in a fluid motion, and then his lips are upon yours, hot and seeking, tongue exploring your mouth while yours opens for him, your body clenching with dizzying desire at the feel of his touch against your skin. 
“I knew it.” You gasp when you pull away and trace the fine point of a fingernail down his jaw. “I knew you were breathtaking under there.” He chuckles.
“Happy you think so.”
Your mouths melt together as he holds you around the waist, your bodies getting closer and closer until you can feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans, feel the scorching heat of him through his clothes. You are desperate for this mortal, your desire to feel him moving inside of you nearly as strong as the lust you feel to taste his heart. You sink to the sand together, a dance of limbs and movements that have you panting astride him when he settles, propped up on his elbows.
“Simon.” He says mid breath. “That’s my name. Want ya to have it.” Simon. 
“Simon.” You whisper it, and he nods before pulling you back to him, two large palms cradling your face like you’re a delicate creature. It makes you feel special, makes you feel cherished, like you’re something gentle to be treasured, and not a monster out for his life. You kiss him tenderly, one more time, as softly as you can manage, your heart trembling inside your chest, before your teeth bite into his lip, the ferocious intensity of the act returned by him, his mouth meeting yours full force. You bite again, and this time his flesh gives way, bright, mineral rich blood bubbling from the tiny cut and you eagerly lap at it, the ichor coating your tongue and exploding across your senses. He laughs, the echo of it rumbling deep in his chest, and you place your hand against his heart greedily, the vigor of its beating nearly making your eyes roll back into your head. The length of his cock throbs between your legs, where only the fabric of his jeans separates you, and you rut against him helplessly. Sparks ignite between you, your body shuddering when his hands hook into your hip, strong grip guiding your movements against him. Your magic swells inside of you, and your head spins.
Take him, take him. Take his heart, take his song. Have him, his love, his heart, for eternity, forever. 
You push him onto his back, dress rucked up around your hips, fabric pooling around the two of you.
“I want you.” you tell him, fingers fussing with his clothes, encouraging him to strip his shirt free and then unbutton his jeans. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and sloppy but you can’t find a care. You’re too filled with want, overflowing with desire for your mortal, your desperation mounting as he stills you, tracing a finger over your ribs and then down your pubic bone to where your slick, silken folds wait to be touched.
“Simon.” you whisper his name again, the word close to begging, and he shushes you, swirling a finger down where you’re leaking, circling the swollen bud of your clit with agonizing strokes that fill your senses with electricity.
“Shhh. I know what you need.” He soothes, and deftly pushes a finger inside of you, stroking along your walls. You shiver, face dropping into the crook his neck, and he turns his head so that the soft puff of his breath wafts over your skin as you whimper. “Does that feel good?” He asks, pressing another inside, his thumb flicking over your clit in lackadaisical patterns. You moan, body welcoming his touch, and you nip at the skin of his shoulder, eager to tear it apart, to taste his blood again. His other hand pushes at the back of your head, until your teeth are flush with his skin. “Go on.” He urges, and your eyes slip closed with bliss while you break the thin membrane, blood pooling to the surface as he lets out a small grunt. Your tongue swirls in it, painting his skin ruby, and you drag your lips downward, over where his heart pounds wildly in his chest. For you. It pounds for you. It sings for you. 
“I need you inside me.” He pulls at the straps of the dress, divesting you of the top, exposing your breasts to the cool air and silver light of the moon. His thumb rolls one of your nipples and you feel for him, already free from his under garment, the things humans wear under their outside clothes, and you swallow when you feel the size in your fingers.
You sink down onto him with a hiss, body stretching for the intrusion, cunt spasming around the width and length as it fights to make room. He pets your hip soothingly, and you sit straight up, letting out a cry when you feel the true length of his cock inside you, the absolute fullness of it nearly seated in your belly. When you look back down, your eyes trace the smear of blood from his lips and shoulder, and your tongue darts out against your own skin, seeking the flavor of ichor that waits on the corner of your mouth.
Something glitters in his eyes, something shifting as if he finally recognizes the danger he’s in. Even here, with you astride him, split open his cock, hips stuttering in slow circles, wariness flexes across his face as if he knows, finally, that he is the prey and you the predator.
“It’s okay, do not be afraid.” You reassure him, stroking a fingernail over his breastbone, to where his heart flutters beneath your touch. He blinks, eyes blissfully blank, the firm grip of his hand on your hip relaxing before he says:
“Will you not tell me your name?” A long sigh slips between your teeth. Mortals. So hung up on familiarity. But how could you refuse a dying man his last request? Your lips kiss the shell of his ear as you give it to him, the point of your fingernail pressing into his delicate flesh, desperate to seek the strong muscle beneath, the song in his blood echoing through your own bones with supersonic vibration. The sounds and colors of the mortal realm all increase, too bright, too loud, everything shaking like the earth is suddenly trembling and then-
Something snaps inside of you. Magic, raw and powerful, a force unlike anything you’ve ever felt spills into you, your body being washed over with the rush of floodwaters, your heart and blood now singing for him, yearning for him, desperate to be consumed by him. 
Yours. Yours. Yours. 
The claim burns beneath your skin, your magic twisting away into something completely new, something more powerful as your mind grapples with the changing reality.
In the next moment, you’re spinning, tumbling through the air until you’re on your back, splayed beneath him, hands trapped at your sides. Your legs are folded underneath the width of his torso, your body opened for him just so, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, stretching the slick walls of your cunt with each punishing thrust.
“I-“ the words are cut off sharply when he seals his mouth to yours, teeth gnashing and gnawing down from your lips to your jaw and then up to you ear.
“You,” He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust, and you gasp. “are mine, little huntress.” It is a vow, snarled through clenched teeth, and your own body betrays you by tightening around him, eager and willing to be claimed. The air is hot, humid and electric with magic, the burning effects of your error travelling through your every vein, every cell of skin. The utterance of your name, the act of your own foolishness strings heavily between you, while your body tenses underneath him.
“Simon.” You breathe and he only nods, holding your cheek in a gentle palm, stroking a loving touch across your face.
“Sweet little Nereid...” He names your kind with a growl, and your heart slams in your chest, his cock thrusting into your cunt wildly, desperately. “More beautiful than the sea herself.” The laugh is crooned, like the satisfying scratch of a needle against a record, and his fingers stroke your clit while he presses himself to you, your hips pinned beneath his weight, your body immobile. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” He smiles darkly, lips curling with sinister satisfaction, and you feel the cold hand of fate reaching into your own chest cavity, rooting around in your soul until magic is searing across your skin, a bending and scraping feeling digging underneath your ribs, your own magic twisting and clawing until it burns away into something new, something changed, something imbued with him.
No. It’s not possible. 
“You… you’re-“
“Yes.” 
Simon cares little for the mortal realm. It’s pace and its noise and its scents are all cloying to him, obnoxious and foreign, the general rush of its inhabitants and their lack of care for their world offensive to him and his kind. They do not care for their realm, and do not take care of it ether, instead choosing to let it rot and fester beneath their feet, their drive and determination to outdo one another single handedly responsible for the destruction of most of their world. They call it something here, 'capitalism', like naming it will excuse it, while Simon just calls it murder, and greed.
Mortals and their extreme indifference do allow him certain things, however. Their love of violence and obsession with wealth put even the most well-off of his kind to shame at times. His kind loved things that shone, certainly. But mortals? They loved things that bled. It was this lust for power, this ravenous streak of greed that gave him the opportunity to position himself as he has.
As a hunter. A killer. A ghost.
Simon had been hunting for the thing he loved for a very, very long time.
And tonight, he was finally going to bring you home.
The first time Simon saw you; over a century ago, it was beneath Brighton Pier. You had a human male panting after you as you walked beneath the wooden overhang, your hand cupping his cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love. Simon, and the man, were both entranced by your beauty, the way your body moved under the night sky, how your skin seemed to glitter against the sand. Simon watched as you led him to where the moon couldn’t reach, beneath the shield of the slats, the dark of the evening hiding you from all prying, curious eyes, except for his.
He watched you take the male inside your body, watched you lavish your tongue across his neck and chest, watched your lips form sweet words of reassurance and honey while you tasted his blood. He watched the nails of your fingers gleam in the low light, watched them sharpen and then dig, scratching and clawing beneath the threads of the male’s skin, until you held an ichor rich organ in your palm, a complex system of vessels and ventricles, it’s sinew glowing red beneath your touch. He stood in awe as you devoured it, your feeding turning into a frenzy as you consumed it piece by piece, the male bleeding out and dying slowly, all while still buried inside your cunt.
After your feast, you dragged the male’s lifeless body down the sand to the water with you, where you pulled it beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Surprised, and intrigued, he stood at the water’s edge, watching the tide that was tinged red lap calmly at the shore. He knew humans had a taste for blood, but this was another desire onto itself. What were you? 
The following year, Simon couldn’t help but return to the same area in hopes of spotting you again, the creature unknown to him, a mystery begging to be unraveled. You appeared at dawn on the same day, with a horde of others, who then dispersed into the city and surrounding areas, following the sound of a song he could not hear. He became a creature obsessed, tracking your every movement, watching your every hunt and sacrifice. He stood in the dark while you made love to the mortals whose lives you would take, watched you hunt with wild abandon, watched you enjoy the small, tiny things in your eternal life that others often overlook. He began to know you, began to learn what you liked and didn't, began to learn what made you smile. 
You became the brightest spot in his own too long existence, the yearly reminder of love, of vitality, of life. He loved you, desperately, recklessly so. His dreams were filled with soft, sweet visions of you, bloody moments of passion and adoring, lingering kisses that he swore he could still feel when he woke.
It took time, too long of a time, before he discovered who, or what, you were. He spent a century trying to learn how to lure you to the surface. Simon tore apart libraries, bargained favors across dimensions, granted wishes and wove powerful spells just to trade for information on you and your sisters, the Nereids, the lasting remnant of a forgotten power, reclusive magic lurking inside the deepest depths, a realm inside a realm, never to be discovered unless you wished it so. And even then, the additional answers he sought were scarce.
Every year, he returned to the human realm to see you, tucking himself away in cloaks of magic and darkness so that he could creep as close as possible to you. Every year, he watched you hunt, watched you capture your prey effortlessly and consume their heart. He watched you shed a tear for them. Watched your drag their corpses down the beach to the sea, where you carried them into the water with you before disappearing all together.
Eventually, time began to change you. He watched you regard your lovers, your mortals with callousness, and cruelty. He watched you treat them with tenderness, and adoration, caring for them, making their ends sweet and soothing their fears. He watched you stand on the beach for hours at dawn and try to fight the urge to hunt. He burned to take you away from this world, to sever you from your ocean, bring you home to him, but your kind did not live in his realm. He was unsure how to sustain your life, and the search for answers was slow. Years went by, and the soft dreams that he had always welcomed turned to nightmares, fueled by the fear he’d lose you before he even had the chance to try to bring you home. 
A decade ago, he watched you falter. Your body trembled as you took your sacrifice, your cries so hysterical he was certain you’d draw the entire block to where you hid in the shadow of someone’s gaff. His own body was rigid with tense, untethered magic that sought to lash out, and he was rife with worry that you’d give yourself away, you’d be caught by some mortal force and unable to return to the sea when the sun rose. The fear he felt was unreasonable, uncontainable. He'd level the city to protect you, to keep you safe, and he nearly did. He almost took you, that night. Was quite close, so close that he was crossing the street in front of vehicles and preparing to pull you into his realm when you composed yourself and completed your harvest, the glowing organ in your hands proof of your will to live, to love.
He rarely left the mortal realm after that. Only to seek his final answer and solidify his plan, his masquerade as the masked Ghost allowing him to exist in the realm indefinitely, giving him the availability to be close for when the time was right, for when you would be ready.  
A year ago, you were the last to return to the water, your steps slow and clumsy, your eyes tired and weepy. You appeared satisfied, but as you looked back on the city from the shoreline, he saw the hint of desolation in your eyes, the shadow of dejection haunting your face.
It was more than enough, to spring him into action. More than enough, to find your promised mortal for next year and steal his song, bringing it into himself by a small piece of blood magic, something so simple and obvious Simon cursed himself for not realizing sooner.  
This morning, as he observed you and your sister on the beach, he knew he had been right. He could see it in your face. The pain of sadness, of loss twisting your elegance into an ache, those feelings compounded by the admission of your eldest sibling. This could be your last hunt.
It was time to bring you home. Forever. 
“That her then?” Johnny nods, indicating he’s looking the same direction as Simon, watching you walk down the curb, paper coffee cup clutched in your hands, face smiling at the sun.
“Yes.” Simon answers, shifting uncomfortably. The bloody song has been heating his flesh for weeks, boiling in his veins and driving him practically mad. Nymph magic. Its incessant hum has been battling his own power, jockeying for position as it worked to pull you to the surface. Combined with his own, he wasn’t surprised it possessed the ability to bring you up earlier than normal, encouraging you and your sisters through the depths and to the shore. If his blood was singing, then so was every other poor sod’s in this city. 
You cross the street into the park, dress swaying around your hips, and he indulgently stares at the form of your body, the set of your shoulders, the texture of your hair. He closes his eyes to breathe, reaching into himself to get a handle on the battle of will going on in his blood, the warring magic factions pushing and pulling beneath his skin, begging to be let out, trying to lash out. Soon. He reassures himself. She will be with him soon. 
He can smell you from here. You’re ripe. Overflowing, your scent is like a flickering ocean breeze, briny and cold but full of life, of promise. You’re ready, ready to be taken from this awful realm, ready to be bent underneath his body, ready to be crying on his cock as you come while he floods your womb with himself and his power, tying you to him for all eternity.
That is, if he can get you to relinquish your name.
It is a key piece of his plan, and the one that worries him the most. 
He knows you do not give it freely; knows you keep it guarded. It’s like you’re already aware that he waits in the shadows for you, watching, keeping track of every step you take, every year, from sunup to the next, until you slink beneath the water where he cannot follow.
The pressure inside his body is nearly unbearable by the time you step into the pub. Dozens of heads turn towards you, mortals’ eyes roving all over your body like you’re a treat for them, like you’re something delicious they’ll have an opportunity to taste. Foolish, greedy mortals, too busy staring dreamily at you to recognize the predator that you are, or the predator he is, oblivious to the two hunters in the room with them right now. He wonders, if you'd bathe in their blood, given an opportunity. The image makes him smile. 
Johnny clears his throat expectantly, and Simon nods, casting a glance over to where Gaz sits with a pretty female on his lap, her attentions focused solely on him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust. Johnny gives him a nod.
“Good luck.” He offers and Simon waves him off. He’s no need for luck. His blood sings your song.
“Ready?” He nearly loses control when he watches your face fill with despair for a moment after his question, his aching need to soothe and comfort you almost forcing his hands out to touch you. I'm here, little huntress. You are not alone anymore. He cannot tell you this, not yet. So instead, he applies pressure to your hand gently and waits. When you nod, he breathes just a tiny bit easier. 
He cannot stay in this place any longer. The eyes, the mortals, their inane thirst for alcohol and violence starting to scratch underneath his skin. He needed you, needed your name, needed to take you home to his realm, and all this noise and smoke and foul-smelling liquor stood in his way. The feeling of your hand in his soothes him, calms the anxious explosion that’s building in his chest, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough, until he has what he wants.
On the way out, he does not miss your little spell. He is, and has been, the most powerful creature in this room. He has felt every ounce of magic used, by you, by Johnny, by Kyle, all night long. It makes his heart swell when he feels your effort to push the dancing female into the arms of her scorned lover, makes his heart soar when he realizes perhaps, you have not given up on love, on life. Perhaps, you just need something else, something other than the hunt, to live for.
He allows you to take your time beneath the Pier. He cannot rush you, cannot allow you the feeling of anything being amiss, being off. You are so close to the sea, so close to the edge of the water that if he spooks you, it will be too easy for you to slip away. Too easy for you to be lost beneath the surface, again, just as you have been for hundreds of years.
When your teeth tear into his flesh he nearly moans, almost loses control again, but tamps down the urge to spring forward and toss you into the sand beneath him. He needs your name, needs your name so bloody badly it has his head spinning, his entire being desperately urging him to act, to claim, to take you. Your cunt is searing hot around his cock, your body shivering in his arms as you rock your hips delicately, eyes watching him half addled, crazed with the lust for his blood, for his heart.
“Will you not tell me your name?” He thrusts slowly up into you, and pity flashes across your features as you bend forward to brush your mouth against your ear. He feels your lips part, hears the intake of your breath and then-
You’re his. The magic begins immediately, bonding you to him, searing you into his soul and vice versa, the song in his blood slipping away until all he feels is the combined force of your power and his, the melding of souls and magic that will guarantee your existence in his realm, by his side, guaranteeing your survival, your ability to thrive. He takes advantage of your confusion, of the chaos that rises in your heart and flips you on your back, spreading your thighs wide beneath him and plunging his cock as deep as he can. So close. So, so close, and then you will be truly his, for as long as you both shall live. 
“I-“
“You,” he thrusts harder, desperate to claim you. “are mine, little huntress.” He hisses it, pushing the words forward with the brunt of his power, and you gasp before whispering his name.
“Sweet little Nereid…more beautiful than the sea herself.” He kisses your throat, stroking your clit at a torturous pace while your confused gaze tracks his every movement. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” The magic pushes through your blood and bones, continuing to stitch and sear you to him, and he can’t help the feelings of possession that come over him.
His. His. His. 
His magic cuts and gnaws at your own, ripping and shredding it to bits until it’s infected with him, the strength of your name, your free admission to him, turning you inside out, changing the very chemistry of your body. He watches with dark satisfactions as your face shifts, your lips parting with understanding, eyes widening with your knowledge of the truth.
“You… You’re-“ Clever little huntress.
“Yes.” He purrs, and punches his cock back up inside of you, pressing close to your cervix, your body wet and needy, just for him. You shudder and blink hazily, confusion flickering across your features while his magic roots around inside of you and binds you to him, cell by cell. He can still smell you, smell the cool salt air of the sea that comes from your skin, smell the ripeness of your body, your willingness spilling forward in the air, the scent of sweet honeysuckle and sea holly. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your body rocking swiftly in time with him while your brow furrows, like you’re not sure what you should be doing. He licks at the stain of his blood on your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a sharp whine, small hands flexing against his chest.
“No.” you admonish, face stricken. “No. No, you t-tricked me.”
“I did.” He agrees, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in a swift circle, your breath hitching. Your face twists into something sour, but your cunt clenches around him, and his lips curl into a crescent moon smirk. “Are you going to come on my cock, sweet one?”
“Unnf.” You moan nonsense, turning your face away from him but he does not stop, hips snapping against yours, his body working to bring yours closer and closer to its climax.
“I think you are.” He hisses and grips your jaw to turn your eyes back to him. They’re wet with tears, but he doesn’t see fear in them, doesn’t see the despair. Only flares of rage, and the heat of desire, the electricity of the magic that is now shared between the two of you. He smiles triumphantly. “I think,” he relaxes his pace, dragging his cock out of you painstakingly slowly, gaze never leaving your lovely face. “you’re going to come for me, and then I’m going to breed you, little huntress.” You tense around him, squeezing his cock, the words pulling a delicious, physical reaction from you that shakes his focus for a moment. His palm lays flat over your lower belly, low enough that his thumb can feel the hardness of your clit, can stroke around it’s hood while you gasp and convulse in his arms. You shake your head stubbornly, chest heaving for breath, and he slams himself back into you, your spine curling forward into his chest.
“Gods.” You cry out, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto, finding his shoulders and sinking deep, deep enough that he knows you're drawing blood. It oozes from the tiny wounds, tracing down his skin and when you pull away, your fingers have been darkened with it.
He watches with small wonder as you slip them into your mouth, face going slack with bliss, cunt spasming around him while he strokes deep. His skin prickles, mouth finding yours again, and you moan into him, uninhibited, full of abandon.
“I have watched you for over a century, my sweet Nereid. Watched you hunt, watched you love, watched you lose.” He slows to look down at you, caressing your face with a gentle touch. “I have watched the light fade from your eyes, watched despair take over your existence.” Your gaze widens, mouth dropping open in surprise, and then closing abruptly, eyes softening around the corners.
“Simon.” You murmur, pressing your finger to the weeping wound from your teeth.
“My huntress. You will never be alone again.” He noses your jaw, licking and sucking against your skin, cold brine exploding against his tongue. Your scent crests, peaking with the honey flower and salt, your body yearning beneath him, cunt milking his cock. “Come for me.” He encourages when he knows it’s time, when he sees the glossy want all over your face. It doesn’t take much urging, another stroke of your clit and you’re coming, body locking up around him, muscles straining as you cry out, face full of bliss and legs tense around his hips. You clamp down around him, holding him deep inside your body like a vice but he works you through it, thrusting slowly inside your scorching cunt, your walls desperately trying to keep him inside. “There you go.” He soothes, fucking you through the aftershocks, your face still twisted up. “That’s just what I needed.” The orgasm makes your more pliable, more soft and less angry, and he sees in your eyes what he knows to be true. You want this. Perhaps this is not what you would have chosen at first, perhaps the magic was too strong in your veins in the beginning, but your body knows what your mind works to accept. You are choosing this, choosing him, over the hunt. Over the sacrifice. Over the immortal life of loss.
So, so close.
He folds your legs towards your chest, opening you deeper and you mewl, lips parted in dazed, post orgasm glow. He can’t help but kiss you again and again, his painfully slow thrusts forcing irritated breaths to puff from your nose.
“Something you want?” He teases, and you nod, pressing your face into his shoulder and groaning into his skin.
“Simon. Please.” You voice breaks, and he feels your cunt pool around him, liquid heat forcing him to grit his teeth in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.
Ask me for it, little huntress. 
“Please, what?” He mocks, thumb pressing down on your clit hard, causing you to keen. He doesn’t move, just stays steady inside of you, your cunt working pull him deeper.
“Please, please. I want-“ you gasp when he bites the skin of your neck, and he smiles wickedly. Your cunt practically strangles him now, body working to drag his orgasm from him, magic singing in both of your hearts.
His. His. His. 
Yours. Yours. Yours. 
Your scent overpowers him, the swell of the ocean behind him combined with the salt of your essence pulling him harder into your gravity.
“What do you want?”
“I want your come.” You beg and he snarls, finally losing control, fucking into your eager body with abandon, hard and punishing while you moan and cry beneath him. He takes your earlobe in his teeth before whispering a vow:
“Then you shall have it.” He plays with your clit, the intensity of his strokes matching the pace of his thrusts and you pant eagerly. “You shall have it every day until you are full of me, full with my child.”
“Yes.” You moan, and he feels you moving towards another climax, your muscles spasming and eyes slipping shut.
“I’m going to breed you, give you my baby, sweetling. Make you mine, forever.” Your back arches and you wail, your cunt clamping down on him again, and he thrusts as deep as he can, chasing his release, fueling his burning desire to empty himself inside of you. He lets go completely, untethers his magic, lets it fully fuse with yours as he spills inside of you, the pressure of his orgasm working against your aftershocks, and your own magic that wraps itself wildly around him, clawing at the seat of his power, desperate to attach itself.
Yours. Yours. Yours. 
His. His. His. 
You fall asleep on his chest, body relaxed and sated, mouth open in a small o. He needs to get you up, needs to get you ready to travel to his realm but in this moment, he’s content to sit here, against the old wooden pier, timing the rise and fall of your breathing and planning for the future, for eternity.
“Will you care for her?” A musical voice asks from a short distance, and his head snaps up to see your sister, the one you stood with on the beach this morning, inclining her head towards your peaceful, sated body that sits snugly in his arms.
“Always.” He promises, and she nods, eyes looking down the shoreline.
“I am happy for her.” She looks sad, forlorn, not unlike how you appeared hours ago.
“It is not too late, for you to hunt. There is still plenty of time before the sunrise.” He tries to encourage, and she nods.
“Perhaps.” Simon briefly wonders if Kyle or Johnny are still in town, a sinister idea forming in his mind, taking shape before his very eyes. He pushes, just the gentlest bit of magic, the piece that’s mixed with yours, towards her. A long moment passes, and then, “I think I’ll walk.” She motions up the pier and gives a goodbye nod, as he strokes a hand down your spine when you shiver in his arms.
You do not stir until she is a speck on the horizon, and when you do, you lift your head wearily, like you’ve slept for a thousand years.
“What’s going on?” you murmur, shifting your dress so it covers your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your forehead before giving an answer.
“We’re going home now, little huntress.”
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pilfappreciator · 5 months
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Been seeing lots of Bruce x Reader content which is fine! Great even! But I've seen absolutely NOBODY acknowledged the existence of his fine ass muppet wife so I went ahead and DID IT MYSELF 😤😤😤
Bruce/Brandi x Reader
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Includes: GN! Reader, polyamory, lots of MILF/DILF appreciation (as there should be), Vacay Lovers
🧡 Chances are you first met them while visiting Vacay Island. Bruce welcomed you with open arms and that charming attitude of his, got you nice and situated for your stay. Eventually he introduced you to his lovely wife Brandi and the kids
💜 The couple warm up to you pretty quick. You've got a great personality, you never hesitate to help them out around the island, their kids adore you (not to mention you're pretty cute)
🧡 These two are honestly couple goals. Literally soulmates. They're super devoted to one another and its pretty obvious to everyone around that they're meant to be. I mean they literally have a gaggle of kids so yknow they're in it for the long run
💜 THAT BEING SAID!! It'd probably be a while before you three actually got together
🧡 Bruce and Brandi only have eyes for each other (at least at first). Introducing someone new into the relationship probably wouldn't even occur to them unless they got to know that person really well, and even then there'd still be long discussions between the two about whether they're really ready for that kind of change. What it would mean for the relationship, how it might affect them, their family and business, ect.
💜 These two never half-ass things. Both are the type to pour their entire souls into what they deem important so if you're gonna be with them, then you bet your ass that it's gonna be for the long haul. The three of you WILL retire and grow old together okay they will PERSONALLY see to it
🧡 But eventually, after you've known them for a year or two and once they've both come to terms with how they feel about you?
💜 BABES PREPARE TO GET SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET
🧡 These two are the perfect team (comes with co-owning a business and running a family ig)
💜 After years of being the heartthrob of BroZone, Bruce is an expert at putting his natural charm and good looks to use. This man is constantly making time to come over and strike up a conversation. And I think it's universally agreed that the guy is not shy or subtle once so ever, so expect a lot of compliments/winks/charming smirks thrown your way. This man is fully leaning up against the wall beside you, giving you that signature Casanova Smoulder(tm), all while telling you how he and Brandy are planning to add french fries to the bar menu
🧡 "But it's supposed to be a surpise until then so let's just keep this between the three of us. Okay, beautiful?" He says with a wink, raising a finger and briefly pressing it against your lips
💜 You probably shouldn't get so flustered over French fries... unfortunately Bruce is sexy and knows it 😔
🧡 Brandi isn't as on-the-nose as her husband but that doesn't mean she's any less effective. She managed to snag someone like Bruce afterall so you KNOW she's got game
💜 Definitely gives you just as many compliments and praise but she's very like... very nonchalant about it?? Like the two of you will be mid convo and she'll just randomly go "wow you are literally so gorgeous haha. Are you sure you're single?"
🧡 You have about five seconds to respond before she's moving on and telling you all about how one of her sons keeps getting stuck in ketchup bottles
💜 It's kinda hard to tell if she's actually flirting with you. She's pretty laid back compared to her husband and at certain times she seems like a bit of an airhead, so whenever she says something nice, it tends to come off as a casual compliment...
🧡 But then there are times where she'll like? Brush a strand of hair outta your face, or wipe some food from the corner of mouth unprompted, or point out a piece of jewelry you have on by running her fingers over it?? Her skin grazing your own just the barest amount??? All while she's giving you that look??????
💜 This woman is sneaky as fuck ngl
🧡 Expect to hear these two gush about each other on the daily. They are CONSTANTLY hyping each other up whenever they're apart (they're in love what do you expect?), but when you've got the BOTH OF THEM in front of you??
💜 They are a well-oiled machine. You are absolutely getting tag teamed by this duo. By the time you leave their company expect to be red in the face and your heart skipping a few beats
🧡 You get invited to a LOT of family meals. Mostly dinners, but sometimes lunch and even breakfast too. And believe me, there is no such thing as a quite meal with this family. They have 13 chaotic kids who are always getting into shit so expect to come outta the whole ordeal with a few food stains on your clothes
💜 look out for Bruce Jr. cuz that kid will for sure try to start a food fight
🧡 Bruce and Brandi are always super apologetic about any messes that occur (they know first hand how exhausting their gaggle of kids can be), but then you just smile and seem genuinely unbothered? Maybe even amused by it all??
💜 "Babe what's their ring size?"
"Brandi, honey, pretty sure we have to at least take them on a date first."
"I'm just asking for a friend!"
"...Am I the friend?"
"You know you are, babe."
🧡 Yeah if these two catch you hitting it off with their kids and showing a genuine interest in their hobbies/interest/lives?? They are SWOONING, vows are being MADE, rings are being CHOSEN—
💜 If at any point you recognize Bruce from BroZone, or if Brandi brings it up in conversation in an attempt to boost her man's rep, then prepare yourself because Bruce will most definitely start putting on a show
🧡 Under normal circumstances he'd be wayyyy more hesitant. Performing anything from his past doesn't bring up the best memories... but he's willing to bust out a good bop if it earns him brownie points in your book (and it better considering that his wife is always telling him how hot he looks whenever he's doing his "boy band thing" lol)
💜 OUTINGS WITH BRANDi!! This woman is taking you shopping or out to the nearest cafe/restaurant that just so happens to serve your favorite, what do you know! Sometimes she brings you along to meet her friends, all of whom are well aware of your existence wink wonk
🧡 Will swoon and fan herself whenever you offer to pay for things, but like as a joke!
💜 (not)
🧡 Chances are the kids already know what's up with the three of you. Maybe it doesn't click immediately but Bruce Jr. notices that how his parents treat and act around you is the same as they treat and act around each other, he goes blabbing to his siblings and soon enough they're all in on it. They don't entirely understand the complexity of the situation... but they're aware that one extra parent potentially means more presents for christmas sooooo
💜 These little shits are mischievous as hell. They are asking you what your favorite color is just to subtly drop the answer while Brandi is out shopping for trinkets. You mention what kind of music you're into and suddenly Bruce is looking up playlists
🧡 You better believe all 13 of them have started a betting pool going about who will confess first, you or their parents.
💜 Brandi's friends might be in on this betting pool. The other vacationers too
🧡 Eventually (after lots of pining and a fuck ton of patiently biding their time), Bruce and Brandi decide to take the leap and invite you into the relationship
💜 They invite you to dinner. It is a WHOLE ordeal and they've been planning months in advance. The kids are off being babysat by one of Brandi's friends (both parties were suspiciously cool with this sudden course of action). Their business is put on pause with little complaint from their customers (again, suspicious)
🧡 You're immediately drowned in compliments the second you show up at the door. You could legit just be dressed in your pj's and they're like "wow those sweatpants really make your eyes pop 😀" sjsjskakaka
💜 You are being waited on hand and foot the whole time. Bruce is manifesting every ounce of romanticism he can— flower petals everywhere, candles are lit, he's got a ukulele tuned and ready for when he eventually serenades you. Meanwhile Brandi has cooked you a feast made entirely of all your favorites and is tucking little flowers into your hair every now and then. At some point she hands you a cute piece of jewelry she saw while out shopping the other day. Just a little somethin somethin that immediately made her think of you <33
🧡 Overall, dinner is going great! The three of you are having a blast in each other's company and it's refreshing to be able to have a conversation without worrying about rambunctious kids or another pink eye outbreak. The atmosphere is quite yet intimate. Their hard work is not going to waste. You are thoroughly wooed
💜 And just when dessert is about to be served—
🧡 "We think you're really hot."
"Wha— BRANDi! My song!"
"Hmm? OH, was I supposed to wait till after—?"
💜 Yeahhh they kinda fumble the confession ngl. You'd think they'd be smoother but they are both: 1) very excited, and 2) very nervous
🧡 Nevertheless, their point gets across. For a moment they kinda panic because of how quite you are afterwards, but really you're just? Absolutely flabbergasted?? These two hotties wanna date YOU??? FR??????
💜 Of course once you manage to form a coherent response (hopefully a positive one), the couple is literally over the moon
🧡 Brandi's flapping her lil muppet hands all excited like "OMIGOSH THEY SAID YES?!"
💜 And Bruce is just smirking and all like "of course they did, honey, did you seriously think they'd say no to the two of us?" all while simultaneously releasing the death grip he had on his ukulele (this man is a fraud)
🧡 Victory dessert follows shortly after. Your hands become absolutely useless for the next few minutes because these two are DEFINITELY TAKING TURNS SPOON-FEEDING YOU AJSHAKAKAKA
💜 The night ends with the three of you hanging out on the couch, either with Bruce serenading you and Brandi or the three of you just cuddling in a pile (probably both ngl)
🧡 Cue the next morning. The kids come back just to find you all fast asleep in the living room, you in the middle with their parents on either side
💜 Pictures are 100% being taken
I love these two a lot, could you tell?
Thinkin about doing a PART TWO!! Lemme know what you guys think 👀
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pillowspace · 5 months
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Thinking about how Charlotte Emily most likely regularly hung out with the Aftons.
William comes downstairs at 9 in the morning to see Charlie and Elizabeth with empty teacups and a teapot, and is just like, ah. Of course. Little girls love tea parties, but indulges them anyway like "what are you two up to?" Elizabeth immediately lights up. "Charlie said that we should play British People 'cause we're British!" William, now a bit more confused, "...ah. I see." Elizabeth, "oh won't you join us? Pretty please?" Charlie then pipes in that she had also asked Mike, but that he had very unfortunately said no, because "Liz plays too mean." Elizabeth, "I do not, you're just too scared to lose!" Michael, "I can't fucking lose at 'British People.'"
Charlie and Elizabeth do atrocious things to their dolls. Drama. Tragedy. They always clash on the endings though, as Charlie wants their dolls fo have a happy end while Elizabeth wants their dolls to have an even worse end
Michael doesn't know Charlie's staying over, and brings home his schoolmates one day. William Frowns TM like "I tried to tell you Henry was dropping off Charlotte today, but you were already halfway out the door." Michael later re-enters the room to find his schoolmates picking on Charlie and pulling at her hair. The closest Michael ever feels to peace is when he's with the Emilys, so he immediately spirals at the sight like, "oh god, if Uncle Henry finds out I brought people over who hurt his daughter, he might not bring her over anymore. What do I do then? What do I do if he stops liking me?" He quickly shoos off his friends, going "dude! She's a guest, leave her be" while Charlie recovers. Before he too can follow after them, Charlie asks Michael if he'll draw with her. He hesitates. The Emilys are the closest he ever gets to peace, so he agrees and sits down to draw. "What are you drawing, Char?" "Marionette!" "'S that the creepy thing that's always watching the guests come and go at Freddy's?" "He's not creepy, he's my friend. Dad made him for me :(" "ahh. You know, my father's been building something for Liz too." "You think that it'll protect her like Marionette protects me?" "Maybe."
Charlie notices how anxious CC always seems to be, and declares one day that she'll keep him safe. She makes him a drawing of them both holding hands, and gives it to him so that he may always look upon it and know that Charlie's rooting for him. He nearly bursts into tears at the kind gesture. The whole household tries to be nicer to each other whenever Charlie's around, but CC tells her about Michael's behaviour to him. Knowing how weak Michael is to her, Charlie gives Michael a look while he's grabbing cereal the next morning like "you should be nicer to your brother. He's just a little kid." Michael immediately pauses, then awkwardly closes the cupboard like "ummm. Okay." Not wanting to use Charlie as a means to make fun of CC, he just never brings the interaction up afterwards
The Emily and Afton families joining together are constantly filled with different forms of jealousy from the Aftons. William, he's jealous of Henry. Michael, he's jealous of Charlie's positive relationship with her father. CC, he's jealous of how Michael seems to like Charlie so much more than him. Elizabeth doesn't even notice her own jealousy, but deep down, Charlie's completely peaceful household... confuses her. She rationalizes the lack of favouritism or hostility as it only stemming from Charlie being an only child, rather than Henry's good parenting. Being so young as well as being the perfect golden child, Elizabeth doesn't know how to express doubt in her father. Clearly, it must be her siblings doing something wrong if Charlie and Uncle Henry are doing so well on their own!
After CC's death, the house is filled with an unbreakable tension. It's grief. It's guilt. Michael and his schoolmates completely cut ties after what happened. And as always, the Emilys feel so separate from the tension of his own home. Michael starts talking to Charlie more frequently, more often at Henry's house rather than his own. He tries not to, or at least usually tries to hide first, but he accidentally has a complete breakdown in the living room one time. Charlie hums a soothing lullaby to him until Henry eventually comes back, notices the state Michael's in, and takes over calming him down while sending Charlie off to do some other seemingly helpful task. After Elizabeth's death, Michael only really has the Emilys left. Charlie stops just being his source of peace, and becomes his best friend. His only friend. Then after Charlie's death...
It's rather lonely all of a sudden.
Later, years later, when Michael's flesh is rotting on his bones and everything is just about to finally be done with, he sits down on the edge of a cheap creaky stage he bought, and lightly knocks his knuckles against Lefty's calf. "Charlie? Can you hear me alright? It's Michael ... I'm sorry. I know I never acted like it, but... for what it's worth... you were my best friend back then. ...Whatever's beyond this, would you like to be friends again there too?"
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spacedace · 1 year
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Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa
Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?
So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.
Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).
And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.
And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.
Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:
“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.
“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.
Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.
“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”
Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.
“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”
Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.
He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”
Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”
Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.
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spirker · 4 months
Text
Thinking today about Ed and Stede’s introvert/extrovert dynamic.
Famously introverts recharge through time alone, whereas extroverts are recharged through time with other people.
The first few times we meet Ed in the show, he’s shown alone in his cabin, smoking his pipe and brooding. Izzy is the only person he interacts with in these scenes, and it’s not very much interaction, just a few words without Ed even looking much at him. I get the impression this is something Ed was used to doing as his recharging/thinking time, having some headspace away from his crew.
Stede, on the other hand, LOVES being around his crew, giving his little speeches, reading them stories, showing off his outfits. He seems to get so much life and energy out of it.
Ed works best in one-on-one interactions, which is partly why his conversations with Stede are always so precious, because they are able to bounce off each other so well when it’s just them.
Ed’s interaction with the crew as a group are mostly very pre-planned and quite theatrical (e.g demonstrating a fuckery) whereas Stede is just able to bounce off them and come up with crazy plans on the fly.
The one time Ed gives a personal speech to the crew (his apology) he is looking constantly to Stede for reassurance.
Anytime Ed is in a social situation, it mostly ends in him retreating to his Blanket of Solitude (TM)
And I think that’s another reason why Ed and Stede running away by themselves at the end of S1 wouldn’t have worked - Stede needs other people to have fun with, whereas I think Ed could just have fun with Stede forever.
Anyway, Ed is an introvert, Stede is an extrovert and together they work really well, because they balance each other out.
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lisbonsteresa · 1 year
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SWEETHEART
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chatterbox-73 · 25 days
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Smut book 2024.
After hours.
Tenya Iida x fem!Reader.
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This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.
You must be 18 years or older to read this...
🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞
A/N: this is a request and I honestly love it… I’m a total sucker for Iida… I hope I did it justice.😅
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@123344myah
Also I’ve changed the name of a certain phone app because firstly I kinda don’t think they’d have SC in the mha universe, secondly don’t think I should be using TM names and finally why the heck not…😁 Pictalk = SC. (I know real creative..😂)
Pictures is edited be me… it’s been sitting in my gallery for some time, waiting for the right chance to be used. (Original unedited manga panel from ‘tada no renai nanka de kikkonai’)
Summary: you sneak into Iida’s dorm room for some after hours funny and getting caught is the last thing on your mind.
Word count: 4.1k
CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, rough sex, missionary and doggy, teasing, pet names, pleasure dom!Iida, spanking, slight degradation and swearing. (All characters are aged up)
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You sat at the small floor table in the middle of your boyfriend’s dorm room, you watched intently as the man sitting across from you wrote large and seemingly unending paragraphs, while your own workbook remanded bare. The man looked up from his page to you with a curious look, “is something the matter?” He asked looking down at your book noticing it’s emptiness, while focused on your book you leant over and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips, “I just need to do that, I couldn’t focus until I got a taste” you smiled and licked your lips, the man looked at you with shock before sitting back and resting on his palm, “you know I’ll need payback now” Iida spoke as he look at you lips that had your lipstick smeared over them.
Tenya iida was such a reliable and caring boyfriend, he always took such good care of you and expected nothing in return, however he has always been quite prideful and this has resulted in him frequently trying to get even, it doesn’t matter how small the incident, he’s incredibly petty but you honestly love it about him, though you probably wouldn’t say it. Tenya often gets quite embarrassed by affection and will almost always shy away from it, but in small moments the man will soothe and comfort you.
You’re broken from your thoughts as you feel Iida’s callus thumb rub over your bottom lip, he wiped away the smudged lipstick before holding your chin and leaning in, however just before your lips had a chance to touch Iida’s dorm room door open suddenly, you both jumped away from each other and looked to the door, “now I’m certain there’s a ‘open door’ rule for when you’re studying with girls…” aizawa sighed as he looked at Iida with a tired expression. “Yes, I now remember that rule being mentioned, once or twice” Iida looked to you and all you could do was snicker, “yep, sounds about right” you cough out as you begin gathering your books and stationary from the table, you stood and quickly left the room with all your belongings, as you exited the room you heard Aizawa tell Iida it was lights out, before you could run off however the teacher stopped you, “straight to your dorm room… and no coming back here, study is over it’s lights out” he closed Iida’s door and turned to look at you, you nod “I haven’t had a chance to bathe, can I do that before I go to sleep?” You asked and the man sighs, it didn’t take a fortune teller to guess what you’d try and do, but Aizawa figured he should give you the benefit of the doubt, he should trust you, “fine… you can bathe, but no funny business… not tonight” he huffed and walked away muttering something about an argument between Midoriya and Bakugo.
You got back into your dorm room and packed away all your books and stationary before grabbing your bath bag, night clothes and towel, before making the trip to the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom you pulled out your phone and placed it on the side of the bathtub while you turned on the water waiting for the tub to fill, as you waited you undressed and began scrubbing your body at one of the washing stations, as you finished the bath water was full and you settled in.
You leaned your head back with your eyes closed for quite sometime before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it, watching random videos before a Pictalk notification popped in the top corner of your screen, clicking it a picture of a dark room with the caption that read
‘how much trouble did you get in?’
You smiled and snapped a picture of the steamy bathroom mirror and captioned it with.
‘None really… just a “don’t come back here, study is over >:(“‘
You chuckled and pulled yourself out of the water, sitting on the edge of the tub still allowing your legs to soak, another notification popped up and you clicked into it. It was of Iida’s neatly made bed.
‘Haha… you’re only bathing now?’
You smiled and shook your head, before taking a picture of your bare legs resting in the water.
‘Yeah, someone kept me busy with studying’
You watched the speech bubble in the messages pop up before disappearing and reappearing several times before finally you received a picture response, this picture was of Iida pulling a playful frown.
‘Are you trying to start something?’
You laughed at his expression before stepping out of the bath and emptying the water, as the bath drained you walked over to the mirror and wiped away a little of the steam, only leaving enough to cover below your hips, you stood in front of the mirror and covered a hand over your breasts before smiling and taking a picture, you send the picture with the caption.
‘start something? But I’m a good girl’
You waited patiently for Iida’s response while you dried yourself, then came in the next picture, Iida had also sent a picture of him standing in his mirror shirtless and one hand resting over his clothes crotch. The picture was captioned.
‘You’re testing my patience baby’
You smiled and wondered how far you could take this before one of you got impatient, though the way things are going anyone else would think Iida was moments away from giving in but that just wasn’t the case and the both of you knew it, you wipe down the rest of the mirror before sitting back on the ground and open your legs, you rubbed two fingers over your entrance before sliding them in, you took a picture of yourself through the mirror, with your best ‘O’ face and the caption.
‘So warm and wet…’
You waited and as you did your fingers worked in and out of you before moving to rubbed your clit, moaning you almost didn’t hear your phone chime, opening the picture you blushed and chuckled as you saw Iida’s long and thick member on the screen, he only have two fingers wrapped around the base, this time no caption was with the picture. However a voice note was sent moments later.
“I bet that pussy is nice and ready, you always are”
You heard the chuckle and groan in his voice and you knew exactly what he was doing while sending that voice note, you sent back a voice note.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”
Iida knew exactly what you were asking but instead all you got back was nothing, no voice note, no picture, not even a message, you scrambled to get dressed in your night clothes and grabbed your belongings. You walk down to the laundry room and put your clothes and towel in the washing machine, and left your bath bag next to the machine you were using, after this you wasted no time going to Iida’s dorm room.
You opened the door and walked in, the room was dark and as you looked towards Iida’s bed you noticed he was laying back with his blanket over him, he was fully dress in his goofy pyjamas, he looked as though he wasn’t just sending you dirty messages, “Tenya… Tenya you need to be awake” you whispered and walked over to him, you knew he wasn’t asleep, you had seen him sleep plenty of times so you knew he was awake, “Tenya sit up and take care of me” you whined as you grabbed at his pyjama top, the man chuckled as he sat up and looked down at you, “you’re such a greedy girl… we were told lights out and yet you’re here because of a picture” Iida sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess it can’t be helped… strip for me please” he smiled and you stood and moved to take off your shirt before stopping and looking to your boyfriend, “what about you?” You asked and Iida frowned “I said strip” he snapped and you quickly began removing your shirt, Iida nodded and looked at your breasts before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for you to step closer to him, so he could grab your arms and pressed them into your sides, your face became flushed as Iida trailed his tongue up your stomach to your sternum, he stopped and placed a kiss on your skin before moving to lick over your right nipping, you whined and pressed your legs together, before the man moved onto your other nipping this time suckling on it, “you’re sucking it like a baby” you breathlessly chuckled, Iida looked up at you with a hard stare before biting roughly on the side of your breast, you yelped and your boyfriend pulled you down slightly to capture your lips in an open mouth kiss, you gasped and cried out in surprise as Iida tongue took control over your mouth, the way he’s slurp and wriggle his tongue reminded you of all the times he’d eat you out.
Pulling away from you and loosing his grip, allowing his hand to slide down your arms and rest on your hips before he slowly pulled down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the pink girlish panties you’d normally never let Tenya see. “Aww how cute” he laughed as he kissed just above your waistband, “it’s not funny, I didn’t think when I grabbed them” you whined and felt Iida move you onto his bed to lay down on your back, “I think they’re cute… they’re so innocent and sweet” he smiled as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “reminds me of our first time… you were such a good girl, so patient” his voice was hushed and relaxed as he slowly pulled your panties to the side before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss over your entrance, “how badly do you want it greedy girl?” Iida asked, his hot breath brushing over your cunt, you whined and wiggled your hips “so badly… I need it” you moaned softly, trying to keep your voice down.
You cried out as you felt your boyfriend’s tongue lick slow strips up the length of your cunt, “more… Tenya, I need more…” you whimpered encouraging your boyfriend, Iida was a beast the way he’d devour you, you were certain given the chance Iida would eat you anywhere and anytime, he’d always put his all into eating you, he’d lick; suck and slurp, Iida was a shameless man when it came to having you on his tongue, he’d say the most vile and lewd things you’d ever heard from him, it was honestly pornography the things he’d come out with; and this time was no different.
“You taste like heaven… if men knew just how sweet you tasted, they’d be on their knees praying to you” he groaned as he licked between your folds, before wriggling his tongue inside you, “I’d lick your cunt raw if only you’d let me… I’d eat you every minute of the day and only take breaks to fuck you” he moaned into you before kissing up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and suckling on it for dear life, you cried out loudly completely foregetting where you were, “tenya I’m… I’m…” you arched you back and wrapped your legs around Iida’s head as you grabbed roughly at his neatly groomed hair, “…oh god… yes tenya… yes…” you whimpered as your body seized up and you began coming undone on your boyfriend’s mouth, he groaned and moved back your entrance, sliding his tongue back into you as his fingers began rubbing quickly over your clit, “holy fuck… ten… oh tenya” you gasped as you started to and push Iida away, however he only continued. You took a sharp breath in, then took another and another, before suddenly losing the ability to breath, it took Iida only a few seconds to realise what was happening behind he moved up to you and brushed your hair from your face, “breath baby, breath out” he encouraged as his thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, you breathed out quickly before sucking in a deep breath, while Iida continued encouraging you.
Once fully calm your boyfriend chuckled and settled himself between your legs, “that was scary… you wanna continue?” He asked as he leant back down ready to pick up where he left off, “I wanna… but not like that… I wanna have you inside me” you hummed as you pulled off your underwear and opened your legs as wide as you could, “I want it all inside, to the base Tenya” you used your fingers to spread your folds apart as your laid back and waited for your boyfriend. Iida watched your cunt intensely as it squeezed around nothing, before he pulled off his shirt and pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, shifting the fabric down only enough for him to hang comfortably, the man pumped himself slowly and reached into his bedside table for a condom before rolling down his shaft and spitting on himself rubbing his saliva over his shaft, he than leant down and spat a large ball of saliva over your entrance, “hmmm… nice and wet… you’ll take it all in one now” he hummed as he prodded at your hole with his tip, pushing his saliva in and out, getting his tip wet.
Iida watched your cunt grip him tightly as he began to slowly slide in, once his cock was fully hilted inside you, you both moaned and Iida pressed his forehead against yours, “god fucking damn it… it feels good” he huffed out a string of cusses and rubbed your hips with his thumb as he waited for you to encourage him to move.
Iida had always been a giver, though he disguised it as petty payback… which it partly was… however with that being said Iida was always safe, he never acted reckless or overdid it, though this time was different.
Your hands grabbed Iida’s thick biceps as he gave you long and hard thrusts that caused the bed to thump into the wall, “Christ… you’re perfect” he moaned and grabbed a hold of your legs, he looked down at where the two of you met and smiled, watching the way your walls and opening clung to him so tightly, creating a delicious drag however because of this it was almost too hard for him to set an even pace, “please… more… I need it harder” you moaned as you dug your nails into he’s shoulders, Iida chuckled and began a strong pace. The man groaned and moaned as he held you down while he pushed into you a little bit harder and faster with every thrust, he’d moaned out obscenities while you simply took in the view, you’d finished several times already on his cock and looking down you could see a white ring form around the base of Iida’s cock, “Tenya… Tenya wait” you whine and place a hand on his chest to push him back, “what’s the matter? Is it starting to hurt? Should we stop?” He asked as he pulled out and grabbed the side of your cheek, you shook your head and leaned up “I’m fine, but I know you’ve been holding out for so long… so I want you to enjoy yourself a little” you hummed as you turn over and push your ass up into the air while pressing your face and chest into Iida’s mattress. Iida moved in and began looking over your wet folds, he rubbed his thumb over your cunt before using it to open you up for himself, “baby I’m always happy just giving you whatever you need, but this…” he groaned as he rubbed his tip over your clit, “you really want me to take what I need?” He questioned and you moaned, nodding your head and looking back at him, “I’m beyond satisfied, now I need to feel you cum” you whined as you reached back and grabbed a hold of the condom cover your boyfriend, before you began pulling it off him, the man moaned only to then quickly thrust into you once you pulled the condom completely off and discarded it on the floor, you grasped as Iida set into a brutal pace faster and harder then before, roughly holding your hips to stop your for jolting forward into the headboard, he’d roll his hips every so often and tried to get as deep as your body would allow him.
“I’m gonna cum so deep in you… I’m gonna use you up so no one else will want you” iida moaned as he threw his head back and grabbed at your ass cheeks, harshly smacking them every so often, “you dirty whore… you want that, don’t you?” Another harsh smack followed this and you responded with nothing but a whine. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, all that comes out of you is a jumble of words followed by moaning and whining, you were enjoying this, enjoying this more than maybe you should’ve been, “you’re squeezing so tightly…” Iida hummed as he further picked up his pace, he let out a laugh as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his thrusts, you could feel him twitching and pulsing with each thrust, “you sure you want it inside… cause if you don’t… I… I won’t” he moaned grinding his hips into you, “yes… god yes… inside please… Tenya please!” You cried loud before quickly having your face shoved into Iida’s pillows, “baby I love hearing your voice but shut the fuck up” he groaned as he held your head in place, while continuing his vicious assault on your cunt. Iida’s breaths become uneven and he lets go of your head and move his hand back to your ass, he grabbed at the flesh and watched as he began long quick, yet uneven thrusts. “Fuck baby, fuck…” he huffed as his hip’s faulted and snapped in towards you, you felt him shutter, soon an indescribable warmth filled your belly, your legs shook and your cunt squeezed uncontrollably, causing Iida to pulled out and begin fingering you, working you through your final orgasm of the night. “Shit… shit baby…” Iida sighed as he sat back on his bed, you crawled over to him weakly and climbed into his lap, “we fucked up… I shouldn’t have let you take it off… I should’ve kept the condom on” he huffed as he rested his head back against the wall, “it’s okay, I’m on the pill” you smiled however Iida did not return that smile, “it doesn’t matter… it was still so reckless of me… to allow you to seduce me into such dangerous play…” he hummed and hugged into you and pressed his face into your neck, “you make me a truly weak man” he sighed and began kissing your neck, “let’s not risk doing it raw again, I’m not a strong enough man for that just yet” he moaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, here was the overly serious and proper boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with, “we could always go one more round, I don’t feel full enough yet” you joked and felt Iida bite your neck before sitting up and frowning at you, “okay, I’ll stop… though it was nice” you hum and quickly stand up, walking into the toilet in the room, “I need a washcloth tenya” you call and heard the man stand from the bed before walking into the toilet with a wet washcloth, “do you need help darling?” Iida passed you the cloth and you nodded as you took it, “yeah it’s pretty deep in, I can’t possibly reach it” you said with a wide smirk, Iida sighed and knelt down “alright I’ll help you”.
_
You sat in class as All Might finished up giving his feedback on today class, he finally ended his little lecture and dismissed the class but before anyone could stand and leave for the dormitory Aizawa stopped everyone as if he had been waiting outside the classroom door just for All Might to finish, “Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida and L/n, all of you are to stay back” he spoke before letting everybody else leave, All might gave Midoriya a nervous look before leaving himself. All four of you sat facing Aizawa as he sat down on the stool that had been moved into the classroom after he’d lost his leg, “now Bakugo and Midoriya, you both know fighting at school outside of training is prohibited and to fight in the dormitory is next level irresponsible, both of you will have two weeks of after class detention… now get out of my site” he grumbled and both boy stood, beginning to leave, however Midoriya stop near Iida and in a not so quiet whisper “I’ll wait for you out in the hallway” he smiled and Aizawa quickly piped in, “absolutely not… get back to the dormitory” he scolded and this made Midoriya scramble out the door, closing it behind him.
“Now you two, you know why I have you here… don’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms and looked between the both of you, Iida swallowed as you tried your hardest to keep a straight face. “I have some ideas” your eyes shifted to the side and you smiled nervously, “very funny L/n, but maybe next time you decide to give Iida a past curfew visit make sure I’ve actually finished my rounds…” his frown deepened and you could feel your face go red, “it was quite a surprise to be finished up then suddenly heard a woman’s cries though the boy’s half of the dormitory” Aizawa looked towards Iida and from the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend struggling to make eye contact with the teacher, “and then all the banging of what I presume was your bed frame… but hey maybe I’m wrong and you were decorating, and you were just cheering on all his hard work” Aizawa’s face still held a straightness despite his very obvious frustration, “look, you can’t be doing that kind of stuff so freely and openly, if the wrong person heard that or even if someone was able to get a picture or video of you two… because you know how driven some of your classmates are…” Aizawa sighed and uncrossed his arms “if something like that happened to get out to the media, it’d ruin your careers before they have a chance to actually begin…” Aizawa spoke so calmly it was unnerving, he then looked at you and continued on “L/n the public wouldn’t see you as some sweet little sister anymore, you’d be seen as some whore who seduced an honest and just man…” his expression softened and you looked down in shame before he moved onto Iida, “and Iida, the public would start saying your a weak willed man, if you’re lucky… or they’d treat you like a monster for defiling a precious young woman” he said and leant back in his chair with a sigh, Aizawa pinched is nose bridge “you both need to be more careful, I’m not saying you can’t do that you’re both adults and will be out of here in a few months, but you need to think about your image, so no doing that here and no going to love hotels, doing it at one of your homes where your privacy is respected… and you’ll be having two weeks of detention with Midoriya and Bakugo” he grumbled and stood ready to leave, “get out of here, now” he said as he pointed to the door, both you and Iida speedily left the room as you both exited you had Aizawa muttered under his breath questioning how he hadn’t gone grey yet.
“I think it was worth it…” you said walking along side Iida and after a moment of silence the man chuckled, “yeah it was, I’m disappointed in us… but it definitely was worth it” he added and shook his head in amusement, “worth it enough to do it again” you smiled and grabbed Iida’s hand, “its tempting, but no… I’m pissed about the idea of all those guys hearing you” he said and brought the back of your hand up to his lips kissing it before the both of you walked back to your dorm laughing about everything.
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niuxita21 · 1 year
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I don’t want to go through two breakups. I know. I... I don’t like this at all, either. The thing about the medicine was a misunderstanding, a lack of communication. We have to talk to each other. Hey, you started with your tantrums! Yes, I know! I’m here to apologize and see how we can fix this, so that things can work out. I think we could start by telling each other everything about our babies. Yes. [beat] How are you? I miss talking to you, but I know... that this is for the best. I’m not ready. Regina’s tummy is doing much better. Aw, that’s good. Well, I’m off. 
#madre solo hay dos#ana servín#mariana herrera#shitty screencap posts (TM)#the more I rewatch this scene to cap it the more I love it for all its angsty goodness#ana's soft 'hola' when mariana comes in :))))#mariana having no qualms about calling ana out on her hilariously ridiculous behaviour earlier in the episode#I did love the return of the bickering because it tickles me that mariana always gives as good as she gets#mariana's soft and sad 'how are you' and ana admitting she missed her (basically in so many words)#and I'm OBSESSED by what she meant by not being ready like is she not ready to be with mariana so being apart is what's for the best#or is she not ready to see mariana on a regular basis bc it still hurts too much so the divorced wives routine is what's for the best??#what does it mean what does it all meannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn#I'll tell you this much though this scene single-handledly filled the 50-metre hole episode 5 left in my heart so thanks for that show#seeing these two talking to each other again even if in a very stereotypically angsty otp way is truly a balm to the soul :))))#continuing with things I loved: mariana interjecting about regina's tummy almost like looking for something to fill the silence#or to change the subject to something less raw and painful than their feelings for each other ugh *chef's kiss*#AND THEN... ana's awkward hand thing when saying goodbye like she didn't know if it was ok for them to touch even in a friendly way again#and how mariana leans forward infinitesimally like to kiss her goodbye (on the cheek)#just the general awkwardness of not knowing what to do with each other in this new limbo they've walked into I LOVE THAT SHIT#and mariana's downright devastated lil face as she watches ana leave :((((#friendly reminder that she had already broken up with ferrán by then#(btw I find it hard to believe that THIS is how the great love story of mariana and ferrán will come to an end but hey I'm NOT complaining!)#so her expression is not 'I feel bad bc I'm happy in my relationship and you're still hurt and sad'#it almost reads like something is shifting within mariana that she's only now realizing after talking to ana in a friendly way after so long#brb flying into the sun#and next episode ana does ayahuasca (??!!!) and mariana gets a job offer in another city??? shit is kicking into high gear!!!!!
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