#I already put clear tags about the content of the post

[mathmusicreading]

Blog(ger) Shift

I am, so weird and bad about original posting and about reblogging and about saving things on Tumblr and that's why my blog has been mostly inactive or the lurking consumer type. But I don't want my fears about putting myself out there, being seen and known, articulating myself well vs. having been told my whole life I'm too wordy and opinionated vs. not managing to articulate myself well enough to justify being verbose and passionate, etc. to continue to control me so much.

So for my new specific-interest sideblog that I'm not locking, I hope it being themed will help me with making more original posts and reblogging, and I'm publicizing that here to push myself and also welcome interaction.

RIP to my other public specific-interest sideblog and the fandom sideblog I took over for someone that I didn't take further and to my private sideblogs that were meant to make me reblog and save and say stuff because they would be personal and just for me. I still would like to make those happen and reblogging and posting things that matter to me here, and oh my heart for the content ideas I haven't been working on, but they're pipedreams with how I'm (not) managing my life and I keep kicking those cans down the road.

To the person who I developed a real relationship with as a beta but who by now I probably count as having disappeared on with how long it's been and my not coming back to explicitly say I still can't help and don't know when I can, I am so sorry. I'm being a coward languishing in hoping I can tell you soon that I can get back into beta-ing for you and talking, but that's turned into me not talking to you because I'm waiting to be able to say something positive. Hopefully my vaguing here can help push me into talking to you, or at least this is here for you to read if you happen to see it; and I want you to know you absolutely can talk to me, can call me out, and if you're so gracious as to still want to be friends with me and just chat despite my dropping being your beta, I'm here for you and still want to be your friend even if I don't know if I'll have the spoons to be a good one and I know my saying that preemptively isn't apology or justification enough.

Honest assessment, I'm going to curse and say my living situation and work have both become even more of a shitshow, and with those things in mind I can't begin to imagine handling a real project until basically literally a year from now.

Which segues back into the main topic of this post. My goal isn't to have my new sideblog be like an active mainblog nor to abandon this blog—people interested in that blog can and should still interact with me here given how primary vs. secondary blogs on Tumblr work, and in terms of using that blog to help make me be a better Tumblr user, I think I should make certain original posts here and reblog them there as opposed to them being original there. With my mental-emotional and time resources, I want that blog to be "active" for a given definition of active, but really I think I should see my objective as "clear out tabs and likes and photos and lists and notes and drafts, etc. from the last four months" by saving stuff there, as opposed to my goal being the original posts I want to make there, and actually my long-term goal should be to use that momentum to do the same for older digital and physical storage that hasn't been lost or stolen. In my failure to be an interesting person, do I at least manage to be fascinating as a basket-case? Ha. But, also, as expressed above the Read More, the exercise of my danmei/Chinese sideblog is supposed to be a foray into me allowing myself to be an interesting person.

[loganbcrnes]

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved. 

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower. 

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time. 

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him. 

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly. 

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form.  Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha. 

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you. 

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy. 

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming. 

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him. 

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size. 

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him. 

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it. 

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge. 

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before. 

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared. 

“And I love that you’re mine.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Pact 1

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, size kink, blood, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: your city has been ruined by goblins and must make a deal with a different sort of beast to save your people.

Characters: orc!Steve Rogers, orc!Bucky Barnes, human!reader

Note: here we go.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The mist wafts around the mountain pass, the dulled glow of firelight speckled through the camp. As the sky dims, bodies shiver, with more than the cold, and voices lower as ears listen for the howl of wolves or winging of fanged bats. You hunch down between your sisters, Medra and Castina, holding your hands up to the flame above the kindling and cinder. Your brother, Ralf, whets his blade, as your other, Frin, chips stones to points for the tips of arrows. The same labour can be heard from around the encampment.

Your mother and father are in the tent already. The rest of you are sleepless. You don't think they are dreaming peacefully, only hiding as their aging bones ache from the damp cold. You glance down and scratch away the dry blood around the linen wound tight around your hand. Castina reaches to pet your arm as she notices the movement.

"I can smell the smoke from here," she whispers.

"The foundation will hold," Ralf intones, always the one who knows. "It's stone. The pillars are strong. There won't be much to rebuild."

"Only goblins to chase out," Medra, the youngest retorts. "Ugly creatures."

"Beasts," Frin agrees. "But we will regroup and we will reclaim the city."

"Will we?" Castina asks. "Or shall we perish here in these crags? A fortnight now and we only move between the same caves."

"What do you know of war, hm?" Ralf challenges. "Here, take my sword and go down there. See how far you get, girl."

She frowns and rescinds her hand from your arm, pulling her cloak tighter, "I don't not reproach, I only wonder."

"You speak too much," he snorts.

You lean into her as she wipes her nose and her teeth chatter. You open your cloak and spread it over her shoulders. You are the middle of your sisters, of all of you. She is the eldest girl and yet she is so thin she cannot stand the frost. Her nose has been dribbling for days. You hear her trying to clear it at night. That and many noises which trouble you more.

"It is late, arguing cannot do us any good," you gird as you welcome Medra under the other wing of your cloak.

"Then go and put your head to rest, sister. Hide in your fancies as the men tend to the real world," he scoffs.

Frin tosses a stone at him. "Don't be such a mule. Did you not snore until midday?"

"I was on night watch last eve," Ralf hisses.

"Yes, I'm certain your rumbling scared away the night creatures," Frin chuckles.

"At arms!" The holler brings both your brothers to their feet and you squeeze your sisters. "At arms! At arms!"

Footfalls sprint in all directions as the men stir to action, each quick to man the border of the encampment with steel and hide. You shudder as Medra whimpers and Castina wipes her nose. Your father pokes his head out and hacks into the dirt.

"Have the come to finish their work?" He asks dryly and pulls on his pointed helm. "Aditha, my sword."

He turns back at the rustling within. You stand and Medra clings to your arm. You tug on Castina as she struggles. She needs to keep warm.

"Halt!" The echo rolls around the stone wall of the mountain and sends a ripple through the women and children as they recede from their fires, clustering against the stone. "Men, to your lines."

The bodies in armour, leather and otherwise, form a boundary around the camp, locking together in formation. Shields at the front, arrows to the rear. Yet, you do not hear marching in responses.

"A shadow--"

"Shhhh---"

The voices hush as the collective draw in a terrified breath. Your father emerges and scrambles to join the ranks. A child cries and their mother cooes. An infant begins to fuss. You squeeze your sisters' wrists.

"You should only draw steel if you mean to use it," a sonorous voice carries as if from the heavens.

"East!" A soldier hollers.

"No, west," another claims.

"Well, city of man, is it blood you search for in these mountains?" The voice bounces off the walls once more.

"Show yourself!" The general demands. "What foe hides himself like a snake?"

A rock tumbles down the rock face and lands in the midst of the camp, sending dirt up at impact. You cry out in surprise and turn to look above. Tall shadows loom on the narrow ledges. You back away with the rest of the women in children, likes tides off the coast. The men redirect their bows.

"Ah, now, you will not fire," the beast above proclaims. The mist slowly clears. "For your women and children are not behind your shields, rather at my mercy." The large figure lowers himself to sit, with his legs hanging over the rock face. He is not spindly and sickly like the ravenous goblins, rather thick as a great oak. His dark hair hangs past his shoulders, his beard thick around his square jaw, two teeth poking up from beneath his lower lip. Orcs.

"Beasts! You would savage the defenseless," The general accuses.

"If I wish to do so, so I would," the orc replies.

"Knock," the general calls.

The orc shows a palm, "loose your bows and I shall loose hellfire." He closes his fist and lets it drop.

"You are upon orcish lands. We only wonder why." Another appears behind him. His skin is a fairer shade, yellowish green, and his hair is gold, a braid on each side of his head against his loose locks. He looks over the edge.

"We men do not fear monsters," the general calls.

The soldiers break out into a rabble, clanging their shields and swords, shouting to the sky. The orcs laugh. Both of them.

As silence casts back upon the men with the weight of their fear, you peer between them and the creatures above.

"There are only two," you say. Medra squeaks and Castina hisses as she tugs on you weakly.

"Who speaks?" The general snarls. "This is no business of women."

"Sister," Ralf booms, "silence."

"Is sense not in a woman's domain?" You return. "There are two against you all. Has enough blood not been shed?"

The dark-haired orc scoffs, "your wench speaks sense, does she not?"

"It is not her place." The general snaps.

"Nor is this yours," the blond orc insists. "Though we can see that your own is in ash."

"Are orcs and goblins so different?" Another man shouts. "It is a trap!"

"Goblins," the brunette spits at the very word. "Those mongrels."

"I'd listen to the woman. She speaks wisely," the blond adds.

"We would not let ourselves be seen if we meant harm," the other adds.

"Then what is your meaning?" The captain barks.

The dark-haired orc laughs, the blond puts his hands on his hips.

"The goblins are a plague and we mean to cut the disease out of these lands," the golden-haired orc declares. "So let us agree over a keg of ale, lest we drown in blood."

"And how do we know you are not the ones to hold our heads under?" Another accuses.

The rumbling from above is like an avalanche. More laughter. Medra nestles closer and Castina groans. Her hand is clammy in yours. You let go of your younger sister to untie your cloak and slip it fully around the eldest.

"Let us hear them out," the captain counters, then moves closer to the general to speak unheard.

"We will feed your masses. Your stores will have been raided by the heathen," the blond orc avows.

"A discussion might be held, beyond our camp." The general agrees. "My people are tired and scared."

"I do not blame them," the dark-haired one returns, reaching up as the other helps him to his feet. "There is a pass, west from here. A series of stones jutting out like a great wave. We will await you there."

The orcs disappear as swiftly as they appear, the mist curtaining their departure. The general convenes with his officers as the soldiers exchange looks of concern. The women and children wail and whine in a tempest.

"You," a captain approaches, "since you do think yourself fit to meddle in the affairs of men, you will attend to pour the ale."

"My sister is sick," you hug Castina.

"You have another," he grabs your arm and tears you away. "You undermine not only the general but the city with your tripe. Come, lest you bring further shame to your father and brothers."

Ralf lashes your name out and you wince. You turn and bring Castina's arm around Medra, "take her to mother."

You face the solider and let him lead you away. You knew better than to speak up and yet you could not witness any more blood. You cannot stomach it.

"Churlish girl," the man grips his sword as you follow at his heels.

A party forms near the edge of camp. The general leads four captains and a dozen common soldiers. You walk amidst them with your hands clasping your skirt. Your father will have another reproach waiting.

You shiver without your cloak as you walk along the craggy ground, stones skittering away from your shoes and bouncing off the soldiers' boots. The scout ahead whistles but you can't see much beyond the wall of bodies around you. There's a grunt and a loud thump as the party comes to a halt and you nearly stride into the back of one of the men.

"As promised, fine orcish ale," the voice carries on the wind. "We will light a fire to keep warm and speak."

The soldiers fan out in a line. The general keeps to the head of the pointed formation. Your sights are obscured.

"We've brought a wench to pour serve the ale," a captain declares.

You are thrust forward suddenly by your arm. You scramble to keep up and are hurled ahead. You stagger and crash against the tall barrel before the two tall orcs. You catch yourself on the slats and peek up at them meekly. The dark-haired one reaches for you and you exclaim and collapse to the dirt, shielding yourself in fear.

He is unexpectedly gentle as he lifts you to your feet, "only meaning to keep the lady on her slippers."

You steady your legs as he releases you. The other reveals a wooden tap and shoves in into the barrel. The men reach for their belts and free their bone cups and brass flasks. The orcs reveal long tusks hollowed out for drink.

"General," the blond orc stands patiently.

You pour for the general first, then the orcs, and finally the assembly of men patiently approach and claim their frothy prize. The general and his captains stand in a half-circle as the dark-haired orc strikes a fire over kindling and stone. He stands and claims his ale from his companion.

"A truce between man and orc," the general mulls as he eyes the ale. The orcs drink.

"A pact which might prove fruitful to both," the blond suggests.

"You offer homecoming and food, but what do you ask?" The general growl.

"Let us introduce ourselves, first, eh? Let us meet with more than suspicious. You may call me Steve, my companion is Bucky. We hail from the Stonehead horde." The blond declares.

The general clucks, "General Howler," he returns. "The Duke was slain in the fire. His son is but a lad."

"Tragic," Steve replies with no lack of pity. "You require to rebuild, to feed those who will soon starve in theses passes. And labour to aid in all that. We have many who are strong who might bring timber and fortify your city anew. We have stores of stock to share. We do so with open hands in exchange for one thing."

"One thing?" The general repeats warily.

Steve and Bucky share a glance. The latter beckons to you and hands over his empty cup. You fill it and return it to him. His thick fingers brush yours. He is gargantuan compared to you. His brows are heavy, his jaw is square and stone, and his skin has a reddish undertone. His blue eyes gleam as he looks upon you, he cheek twitches. The other orc skims you with a glance.

"Daughters," Steve says at last.

"Daughters," the general echoes.

"Aye," Bucky says. "Women."

"For what purpose? You think we would let you desecrate our wives?"

"Wives? Not your wives. Ours," Bucky argues.

"Can not you lay with your own kind, cretinous beasts," a captain snarls.

"A plague," Steve intones. "A plague has swept through us and it took as many mothers as it did their babes. My own beloved among them. There are few left, not enough."

"It's... no, it cannot be done."

The orcs look to each other again then to the men. They dip their chins. "Enjoy your ale then. Go back to your people. Batter down and pray."

The general winces. The other men whisper and the captains drone behind their gauntlets. You skirt toward them.

"One daughter," the general says. The crowd grows silent. "Her." He points at you. "Prove that it can be done. That your seed does not split her in two and you will have more. And you will deliver us food enough for the winter to come. Should you bear fruit, you will have more and you will help us rebuild in the spring."

The orcs shift and turn to each other. You back away from both monster and man, pressing yourself to the rockface. The dark-haired one spins around and gestures to you.

The blond presents his sword. "On my blade, let it be done," he declares.

[hyunjinsjeans]

He Knows (Hyunjin ver.)

Chan ver. | Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: You have been meaning to tell your husband you want to have a baby, but since you have had issues with your periods he is wary of your health. The right time comes when you are with him during a schedule.

Type: Fluff 🧸, 👍 SFW, female reader 💃

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and periods/period issues.

Word count: 3825 words (oopsie doopsie!)

AN: Sorry this is not really a blurb... I couldn’t stop writing :) so if it is longer than the previous ones… well, it is what it is. Also, FYI: I do believe I will post the full-length fic at some point (because yeah, I did write a lot this time...). No real proofreading.

You groaned from the back of the large car. An SUV, the manager had called it. The cameras were already on sight and you began feeling the burning of anxiety creeping up your legs like ants on a tree.

A hand reached out from the seat to your right, it found your knee and squeezed with the ring finger and thumb. You took in a deep breath and reached to put your hand on the extended forearm. To your left, there was a shift as the seat belt came undone.

“It’s okay, they know you already” Hyunjin tried to reassure you.

As much as he wanted you to be calm, he was struggling to keep it together himself.

“Yeah, but I’ve never walked the airport with you…” you whispered.

Han leaned over your shoulder to speak to the two of you.

“If it’s too much you could walk in the back with the staff like you usually do,” your friend offered. 

Hyunjin tilted his head, his large Versace glasses already laid on top of his hair like a headband. His eyes showed little liking for the idea although the three of you knew it was the safer option, as you had done it that way several times in the past and fans seemed to take little notice of you. 

“I’d rather hold your hard through it, but if you’re more comfortable with that…”

Both of your eyes slid down to your hands as his fingers came to cover your hand that was still touching his arm. You let your head hang, biting your bottom lip, you tried to think about it.

“I’d prefer to be with you,” you admitted, still deep in thought.

Han watched you two for a second and leaned back on his seat, to him it was clear what was going to happen and he did not need to intrude in your conversation any further.

To your right, Hyunjin pressed a feather-like kiss to your forehead.

“We can be the last in line then,” he offered.

After you nodded, he looked back at Han and reached out his hand to catch his attention.

“Do you think you could go before us?”

Han hummed a positive response and gave you a smile in time for the car to come to a stop. “Let’s go!” He nudged you.

The airport was crazy. An entirely new experience for you. Whatever the boys ever said about it to describe it fell short to the true madness of flashes, phones, faces, yelling and shoving that went on while you walked hand in hand with your husband. It was true that you had traveled together, but the times you had tagged along you had walked behind them and surrounded by their staff. A couple of times you even got to leave in a different car, entering the airport far behind the boys, cameras already packing up and leaving. This time you were walking in the middle of the chaos, hand held in Hyunjin’s firm grip. You squeezed his hand back and thanked him in your head for handing you the cap, face mask and big sunglasses. You were well concealed, safe from the scrutiny even if you were standing right there in front of everyone. 

The walk to the gate was interesting, to say the least. Fans knew who you were, Hyunjin made little effort to hide you from them after he decided he wanted to marry you. Nobody was entirely shocked you were there, some were curious as to how your relationship was. The dynamic was foreign to his fans, never having seen you two interact for long periods of time as you let him do his thing and got cut from any content if you happened to be captured on videos or photos. 

You sat together in business class, each in a little compartment of your own. A small curtain set the seats apart, though it did nothing to pull you from each other. You two still managed to watch the same movie chat while the credits rolled. Hyunjin took some time to draw in his sketchbook, in the meantime you pulled out your tablet and continued reading a manuscript for work. 

“Is that one good?” Felix wondered from the seat to your left. 

You made a face, unable to decide yet since you had only read a few pages. “It could be, I’m only starting it. But the writer is new so who knows.”

Felix liked to ask about the manuscripts you worked on, as an assistant editor it was your job to get the stories clean and ready for publishing. Your boss always asked you to read a story before deciding if it had potential, so you were in a constant loop of editing and reading, editing and reading. 

You were each caught up in your own worlds when your alarm went off. Phone buzzing on the little table next to your seat. You shut it off and went to reach inside your carry on, quickly taking a couple of small pills from your prepackaged pill case and went to grab your water bottle ignoring the way hyunjin’s brow arched watching your actions. As far as he knew you were not on any medication and you’d taken your vitamins in the morning; so why are you taking some pills now? 

A couple months ago, he had insisted on going with you to see the doctor; you had been dealing with what he referred to as “inhuman pain” during your periods for the last few months. He didn’t know how to help, so he did the only thing he could think of, which was taking you to see someone who knew what to do. Hyunjin had simply had enough of coming home to his favorite person curled in a ball of sweat under a blanket while some drama played on tv. He wasn’t even able to properly hold you because sometimes the cramps were so bad you couldn’t straighten up enough for that, so he had to curl himself around you. The pain would also take away your appetite and make you nauseous. The whole thing was a head scratcher for your husband. 

A good thing was, the doctor could not find anything alarming in your ultrasound and although he laid it out clearly, he gave you two options. Hyunjin had been a little more than upset when the doctor turned to him as if it was his decision what to do with your body. He knew enough about keeping a straight face to turn the attention to you, making it clear it was your call. You could either take a stronger form of medicine, work out more and change your diet to appease your period cramps or you could go on birth control.

You two had not talked much about having kids, besides knowing and agreeing you would be fine having only one baby. Hyunjin was sure he might be tempted to have a second one, but if life was too busy he would call it a win if he managed to give his love and attention to a smaller family. He just didn’t want to bite off more than he could chew. And you were on the same page. 

The doctor sensed you two needed to have a chat and gave you an appointment for the following week. 

You didn’t talk about it a lot. Hyunjin told you whatever you wanted to do was okay by him, but he did remind you that the birth control route sounded a lot easier considering you already had a busy and fast paced routine. 

He was clueless indeed. Even the doctor thought about it. In the meantime your husband was thinking you had a million reasons to consider the two options. And he missed the one that was actually making you doubtful. 

You did not tell Hyunjin anything other than the same you told him when you first started having sex. That you didn’t want to play with your hormones and you preferred to use condoms as a way to be safe. He respected that then, same way he respected it today. 

This time, though… It was a bit of a lie. You kind of hoped he would get it, of course he didn’t. You talked to your favorite confidant in Hyunjin’s group. Changbin. He heard you and knew right away that you declined the offer of birth control so that you could easily become pregnant if you and Hyunjin decided to try. 

“Why didn’t he get that?” You asked Changbin and he simply shrugged, reminding you that he was a founding member of baboracha. 

“I doubt he missed that on purpose,” he tried to comfort you. 

So there you were, flying together to Italy. To Milan, to be precise. It was your first time there, Hyunjin was excited to bring you to his dinner with some big names from the Versace brand. He also could not wait to whip out his camera and spend film after film with you in those beautiful streets. 

Landing was quiet, you all picked up your stuff and you got ready to get off the plane and run along with Hyunjin to go through customs and then have a quick walk out to the large cars waiting outside for the group. 

You were at the hotel soon enough and Chan was handing out room keys. He met his girlfriend there so at least you weren’t the only girl tagging along with the boys anymore. 

You had a room key each, agreeing on using mostly Hyunjin’s you put yours away in your wallet. You rode the elevator with I.N and Seungmin, Hyunjin had quickly draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you onto his side but he kept a light conversation going with his members. You laughed along and intervened to help the boys pick at Seungmin’s new hair. He looked great but he was being annoying about having to change it again for this event.

You said your goodbyes in the hallway and everyone parted to their assigned rooms. Hyunjin let you inside first and you pulled your luggage behind you with a sigh at the fresh scent of a clean room. You were exhausted after the nerves of the airport shenanigans and then the flight, and then the usual travel stress… Hyunjin had not shut the door behind him when you threw yourself face first into the bed, fluffy pillows swallowing you up. 

He chuckled and it reminded you of the dooking of a ferret. 

Fortunately, you landed in time for dinner so you would not have to stay awake for that much longer. 

“You should have slept more on the way”, your husband commented, pushing the suitcases into the closet space. 

You groaned. “Yeah yeah, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Hyunjin dropped his jacket on the armchair by the desk. “We have like 30 minutes before it’s dinner time.”

“Uhmmmm,” you flipped onto your back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I’ll get changed then”

Hyunjin watched you as you went for your white suitcase, you opened it and looked around for a solid minute before pulling out a yellow dress and a pair of sandals. You picked up your hair with an elastic that was on your wrist and kicked off your shoes. You grabbed your bag of toiletries and your plastic shower sandals and pointed at the bathroom. 

“I’ll be quick,” you said over your shoulder and saw Hyunjin nod. 

He decided to get changed too, giving up the well thought out look for a simple pair of sweatpants, sneakers and a t-shirt. He sat down in the middle of the bed with the sketch book and continued with his drawings until you came out of the bathroom. You managed to shower and dry your hair in record time. You changed right there, in the small closet space across from Hyunjin, he looked at you pulling up your pink panties and then a nude strapless bra. You then threw the yellow dress over your head with a huff before fixing your earrings and necklace, your rings shining bright on your left hand. You stepped into the selected brown sandals and turned to your husband. 

He was staring. 

“I’m ready, I did it.” You gave yourself a pat on the shoulder, happy to have freshened up in such a short time. 

Hyunjin turned to his phone to see the time and got a text right away. It was Chan on the group chat, asking everyone to meet in the lobby in 5 minutes.

“Just in time too.” He celebrated.

Dinner was a lot of fun, while everyone was tired it was still fun to walk around the streets of Italy with your favorite people. Hyunjin was always happy to see his members take to you so well, especially the younger ones. Felix, Seungmin and I.N were fond of you like little ducklings following their mother; and you enjoyed the feeling of having younger siblings, having grown up as an only child of divorced parents… siblings were something you could only dream of before meeting Hyunjin. 

On the other hand, you were also close to Changbin. The older member was protective of Hyunjin, and when you were introduced to him he could not help but see how similar the two of you were. He had also seen so much of his own sister in you he was unable to do much more than to treat you in a familiar way; which was great because you ended up moving in with the two for a while before you and Hyunjin were able to move into your own place.

So the group had a lot of fun ahead of their busy schedules for the next couple of days. Chan’s girlfriend was there too, and the boys were excited to hang out with the two of you. Unable to help themselves, would their partners have the same chemistry as they did among themselves? So far, the answer was yes. You walked back with your arm intertwined with Chan’s girlfriend’s. The two of you came from different parts of the country, both were eager to learn about the other and how you found yourselves in such a unique place. Chan’s girlfriend was slower when she spoke, more calculated; while you were all giddy and eager. A true strange pair, but you kept laughing and giggling. Turning to your partners ever so often. 

“They’ll be plotting our demise soon enough,” Chan joked with Hyunjin. 

“No kidding, what are they even looking at? What’s so funny?” Hyunjin had a puzzled look on his face that made the others laugh. 

***

You woke up to the morning sun slipping through the curtains. It warmed up your side of the bed and left a yellow line that ran through the carpet and sheets and across your figure. 

Behind you Hyunjin still slept. You could hear the soft whisper of his deep tranquil breathing. You rolled onto your other side and turned your back on both the sun and the alarm clock that would go off in a few hours. The boys didn’t have to be out until later in the afternoon so you wanted to avoid waking up your husband if he had time to sleep some more. 

He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed and his lips loose - mouth open a little bit. You sighed with the soft squeeze of glee taking over your chest. Hyunjin’s chest moved up in slow time and then once his lungs had acquired enough air his chest would move down once more. You closed your eyes, focusing on how his breathing sounded. Like ocean waves crashing into the shore and being pulled back into the immense body of water. 

You were beginning to feel heavy and numb when his slim fingers found your waist and traveled around it to your back, pulling you closer to his warm body that was now facing you. Hyunjin groaned in his sleep and dug his arm around you higher, until your own arm held on to his back and your cheek was pressed against his neck. 

“Do you want to sleep in?” He whispered, breath hitting the top of your head with every word. “We could have room service, or go out and get a coffee..” 

You took a deep breath, inhaling his strong scent. It was woody and fresh, sweet with a hint of lemon. A smell you were used to being surrounded by at home, where the pillows and the closet smelled like him even when he was away for work. You focused yourself and replied in a whisper as well, unwilling to break the morning daze using  a higher volume.

“I thought you wanted to sleep in,” you nuzzled his neck, “we should get ready and go out for a bit, maybe find a café or something.”

“Mhmmm,” Hyunjin felt goosebumps form on his skin but didn’t pull away, “I’ll take a quick shower.”

Five minutes later, you two were still unable to peel yourselves off of each other, you laid on top of his body while his breathing remained even, an arm covering his eyes. He had to mentally slap himself into consciousness, opening his eyes to the beautiful cream colored details on the ceiling, turning to his side to find your eyes closed and your hair a mess behind you all over the pillow. He ran his fingers through it and pushed his head down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he started. “I saw you taking some pills on the plane. What… what were those?”

You opened your eyes slowly and blinked a couple of times, you rubbed your eyes with your hand and tilted your head back to look up at him. 

He truly was clueless. 

“I’m taking some new vitamins,” you explained, mentally bracing for the two opposite ways this conversation could go. “I spoke to the doctor a few days ago, and I was thinking…” you doubted a little. 

His fingers dancing on your naked shoulder caught your attention and you consciously had to find the sound of his steady heartbeat to focus again. He granted you his patience, puffy morning eyes staying on your face while your eyes stared far into the wall.

“I was thinking we could have that baby we talked about,” you finished, at last gaze returning to look in his direction. 

“… that baby we talked about,” he repeated under his breath, he did remember. 

You pushed yourself up, your hand on his chest as you did so. He looked up at the ceiling now, his eyes moving from side to side as they did when he was deep in thought. 

“You are taking vitamins. And you want a baby.” He said. “You want to have my baby?” His gaze suddenly fell on your face. 

You nodded, your hair cascading down your back as you sat up to look at him. Your hello kitty pjs pooled around your waist, the pants’ legs bunched up at your knees. He, on the other hand, seemed to be perfect all the time, having slept in his underwear only his hair looked somewhat out of shape. Dark strands sticking out in all directions.

But to him you looked perfect too. His arms pushed him to a sitting position as well, and you stared at each other for a moment. 

“Who else’s?” You slapped his knee with a giggle, “yes, Jinnie. I want to have your baby. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since we saw the doc that time.”

Thinking back, Hyunjin could see how obvious you had been. Throwing hints here and there, volunteering to hold people’s babies, babying kkami to an almost stupid degree (not that anything you did was stupid in his eyes), being so eager during sex, being so disappointed and grumpy during your periods the last three months… looking up freaking baby socks patterns for your next knitting projects…

“What if it’s painful?” Hyunjin could not help but be concerned. “You have a bad time every month, I don’t want this to cause you worse pain” he explained, reaching out to hold your hand. “And giving birth sounds terrifying!” 

His dramatic side was coming out; you saw it often and you were used to it, but you were surprised to hear this from your husband. He was being honest telling you about his fears of going into something so big and important. He was not wrong about everything. 

“Giving birth does sound terrifying,” you admitted. “But we’ll have a baby afterwards!” You could not help the joyful smile that took over your features. “And I’m healthy, we are safe to go.”

Hyunjin sighed and pushed his hair back. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to hold you and kiss you and have you wrapped in his love, though there was no way he could do so as freely… it was your body, your wellbeing on the line here.

He was a man, but he was no fool; you would give up your autonomy for 9 months to grow a baby - your baby inside your womb. You would not be able to live your life the way you were used to, you wouldn’t be able to travel or drink, you would have to be at the doctor’s office every other week. You would have to give up your clothes and your comfort, take time off from work and see your own body change with the miracle of life. He considered you a little crazy for wanting all of that. 

At the same time he considered himself so lucky to have you want all of that with him. He saw how much you not only loved but also trusted him. You were ready to face any challenge with him, meaning you could rely on him entirely. He knew you would only ask if you were sure the two of you could handle it.

Being honest, he was a little crazy too. And he wanted the same things you wanted, it had always been that way.  

“If we try,” he let his thumb run over the back of your hand, “I don’t want you to worry about it. If it takes time for it to work…”

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll be patient”

“Then I’ll be patient too.”

You jumped to sit on your ankles, “so… is that a yes?”

Your eyes were open wide like a child’s waiting for permission to go to the playground. Hyunjin tsked and looked to the side. 

“Yes Y/N, I want to have a baby with you,” he leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand.

“Jinnie!” You threw yourself at your husband.

It was arms flying in the air to wrap around him, he found himself lying on the bed again with you on top of him kissing all over his face in excitement. 

—-----

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

[romanarose]

What: An event to highlight disability visibility in the Pedro Pascal and Oscar isaac fandom! Writings or art MUST include some disability. In the header, I have chosen 4 characters with canon disabilities, but you can write for anyone! For examples:

Marcus Acacius losing eyesight Llewyn with a reader with a reader with epilepsy Javier Pena x Steven Murphy and Steve has cancer

Fics and art can be NSFW, friends, romantic, canon characters only, x reader, solo fics, ETC. If you want to explore a bonus chapter within a series you already wrote, that works, but,

MUST BE NEW CONTENT!

Who: Anyone who wants to make art or write a fic!

Where: Tumblr, but if you want to post on ao3 and send a link that works!

When: Through the month of April!

Why: It's important for all of us to look at the beautiful diversity of this fandom! There have been many discussions around race and gender/sexuality biases especially in the PPCU recently, and I want to not derail, but rather add to this conversation.

Rules: I'll try to keep it simple

Not a dead dove event: While dark content can be discussed or shown and I am not a dark hater, please no dead dove, non con etc. Not for this event.

Minor characters are allowed, but obviously no NSFW minors. You want to have Marc and reader in their teens, thats fine! but not smut.

No minors!: I am aware I cannot stop nor do I wish to stop minors from reading, but interacting with this event is strictly 18+

Non-disabled people can write, and disabled folk can write for disabilities they do not have, but do research: Reach out to friends who have a disability you want to write about. Watch youtube videos. Read book and blog posts. I'll link some resources at the bottom!

TRY not to fall into trope or harmful traps. Again, I'll link tropes in the bottom, try our best!

Try to end light. This is about the beauty of diversity. Like with my pride event, I'm not naive to hardships the disability community faces and we can explore that, but lets not let that be the main focus.

Readmore: Use the READMORE option! I'll reblog all fics but ONLY if theres a readmore

Add alt text to any pictures. I have literally done this maybe twice and that's my fault. it takes a minute, I have no excuses, but its very important for people who use aids online.

And this isn't a rule but a few notes. try to avoid the inspiration porn shit. If you don't know what it is, look it up and if you're still not clear you can ask me! Also, I recognize major depressive disorder , PTSD, anxiety ETC can be disabilities, these are things that are depicted a fair amount in fics already. If you choose to write to draw with these disabilities, that is okay! I'm still more than happy to include your work! I just want to gently encourage people to think of other disabilites we can try to include so others feel welcomed!

And as always with my events, I want to encourage you to think beyond the standard x fem reader. It's all wonderful and beautiful, but if you wanted to write reflecting your experience as a black disabled woman or a trans disabled man or writing about Santi's experience being queer and disabled I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT ALL!!

Events tend to not have a lot of art, so I'd really love to see artists participate too!

HOW: SEND ME THE LINK ASKS OR DMS! asks in preferred so I can keep track. Do to internet safety, I wont look at anonymous links. If you have to be on anon bc you use a sideblog (looking at you, Haru!) then tag me in your fic or post, I'll open up a dm with you on that blog and you can send it there. I''ve had issues in the past trying to keep things organized so this is best for me! Everything will be reblogged, and then put into a masterlist!

I will be posting the masterlist on my new blog, @cosmic-kid-in-motion. I wanted to start the event here where I actually have followers, but the final product will be on my new blog, transferring things over.

I am so excited to see what you all come up with!!!!

Disability Visibility Project: An online page talking about disability issues. The sight is ran by Ali Wong. She also has a book of essays from different people called Disability Visibility, I HIGHLY REC. We read this book and used this site heavility in my intro to disability class, its why I named the event this!

Ableist tropes in media

Youtuber who is a friend of mine, Andy

Deaf awareness by same youtuber

Another youtuber I like

Disabled palistinian comedian

If anyone has other links they recommend im all ears!

I also open for any questions, and if any other disabled tumblrinas wanna open up for questions, comment below! You totally dont have to, but a wider range is always great! I have a few physical and mental disabilites and like I mentioned, I took a class. Im also good friends with the tuber i linked above and he's done a lot of disability advocacy and I've learned a lot from him, So I feel confident but if theres another I dont know I'll open it up! Any input or ideas are welcome!!!

Im so excited to see what everyone comes up with!

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[rrezshifts]

𝓻𝙚𝙖𝖑𝙞𝙩i𝙚𝙨 𝙞’d 𝙡o𝙫𝙚 t𝙤 𝙛𝙞n𝙙

this is a list of realities i compiled from three lovely people’s dr ideas posts: ellysdreamworldd, deminetly, & lalalian. this post is a way for me to clear out my likes without having to keep track of the realities i’m interested in shifting to in a notebook i’ll lose or forget about . . .

a retro high school/college reality. this could be a reality from any decade where retro still fits. the original poster wrote 70s-00s. i feel like i partly already have this with my twilight reality, it’s set in the early 2000s. but it’s definitely something i could be interested in shifting to outside of that reality

2000s victoria’s secret angel reality. see this is weird because i am a trans man. and like . . . the parts of my body that are inherently feminine and ideal for an angel, i don’t like. however, it can be what i like so put my ideal masculine but twinkish form in some lingerie and call it a day!!

professional tourist reality. a reality where i have all the money in the world and travel the world with no responsibilities seems SO fun! but like an ideal and bigotry free world. and also i get to bring someone with me!!

vampire reality. tbh i already have a few of those . . . but i’m not in love with them. that and they’re from pre-existing media, and i want one that i can really play with and make my own and just fall in love with my own mind and life through it, yk??

royalty reality. this could be so so incredibly fun. but i fear the way i view and picture a royalty reality in my mind at the moment . . . it’s off putting. i’d need a new perspective to look at these type of realities from before trying any world building or i may genuinely give up immediately

summer camp reality. as the counselors of course. like imagine being a counselor with other hot people your age and just bouncing from counselor to counselor all summer as we all sneak around camp after curfew and just go crazy!! though i technically have a reality like this already . . . my the quarry reality is basically this because i removed all the horror game elements. i should think about it more though for sure, that why i put it here

mermaid reality. like genuinely the way the original poster described it as a the little mermaid kind of romance plot almost makes me not scared of the deep ocean aspect of this reality. but i love marine biology and marine animals so like i would realistically love this too. this is another one though, that i would need a perspective shift because right now the idea of this reality is off putting to me as well

magic university reality. quite literally just hogwarts in my marauders reality. but i haven’t scripted shit and i need to get on it. so i’m adding it in hopes that’ll change. it won’t lol

small town shop owner reality. the original poster said it was a flower shop. but the idea of it being like a small business of my choice, for example a metaphysical shop, and falling in love with the small business next door’s owner?? bonus points if it’s a tattoo artist i fall for, because why can’t fanfic tropes come to life!!

planetary romance reality. described as exploration of different planets with romance specifically with aliens. and you know what . . . i’m not gonna lie. the romance with aliens is what sold me!! call me what you want! (it’ll probably be true) but this genuinely seems like such a fun reality to get to workshop!!

eco-metamorphosis reality. described as a world being colonized by aliens but instead of rejecting them you welcome them with open arms. and i was thinking this could be so fun to imagine a world that has coexisted with aliens for generations now, a good many years after, and how that looks and what daily life would be like

that’s all of them!! please look at their posts if you liked any of these and want to see what else they have shared!! i’ll tag them here so they know i used their posts for a sort of form of content @ellysdreamworldd , @deminetly & @lalalian !! thank you for the great ideas 🙏

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

****************************************************

As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[the-truth-the-patriarchy-redux]

About Me:

I was on here before until the powers that be decided I took too much, I made too much sense, was offensive to some. For the few that wanted to silence Me, it did not wok, for the thousands that followed, I am right here.

This is not a kink

The patriarchal society is not a kink for Me, but a lifestyle! I am a 50s something White Man who lives in one of the most liberal states in America, doing what I can to spread the truth, My truth!

My truth includes the belief Men should be in charge. Not only in society, but also in the relationship and household. It is the Man’s responsibility to protect, care for, and worship the girls I am with. That they should be put on a pedestal and kept there. In spite of that, I am also a sadist and a girl should be knocked off her pedestal and be used, be My free use girl, to mark and remind her where she belongs. Yes, I will protect, guide, lead, develop, make her better through training and domestic discipline, while I protect her from everyone and everything in her life. To make decisions for her, to give her expectations, rules, consequences and rewards to help her; to take away her stress and anxiety.

I am into a variety of kinks, most notably, misogyny. To be clear, patriarchy does not equal misogyny. The definition of patriarchy is a male led society, in which a girl is to be cared for and protected; whereas misogyny is the contempt or dislike of girls. I love girls, I want to make them better, but at times, it takes physical, domestic discipline to make them better, which goes hand in hand with My sadism.

Anyway, if you don’t get it now, you will when I post. Speaking of posting, I do not create any content, but repost what is already in the tumblrverse, I just add captions, My thoughts about what I see. If I repost something that you posted and don’t feel comfortable with it, let Me know. Anything I post, assume it is not about you unless I tag you in it. Further, I will not message you unless you message Me first; or unless you are begging Me to message you by spam liking My posts.

I am very approachable, so if you have questions or concerns, just ask or DM; however, if you like to talk negatively about My blog or links, go away! I don’t kink shame you, I expect the same. Further, if you don’t like My blog, go away, no need to report.

Now, the legal stuff:

This is a NSFW blog and MDNI! No one under 18 years of age, and all models on this blog is assumed to be 18 years or older.

[dumpywrites]

Twisted Reality - Jung Hoseok / J-Hope

Prompt: You wake up in a strange alternate universe where everything’s the opposite.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, tiny bits of angst, alternate universe, idol! Hobi, fan/army reader, delulu plot, Hope on Stage era! Hobi

Pairing: Hoseok x she/her reader

Word count: 4.8k

a/n: I know everyone’s going crazy over Hobi’s concert so I made this :P

Usually your day started up pretty simple. Getting up, showering, breakfast (if you feel like it), and mentally prepping yourself for whatever was ahead for you at the day. 

Except today was a bit different. You woke up and immediately locked in. Sitting in front of your laptop you quickly typed and clicked something in a rush. You had been saving your money for this. Yes, you were in fact, queueing for J-Hope’s tour ticket. 

The countdown was showing an hour period of waiting time. You began to curse yourself for sleeping late the night before, staying all night watching K-Drama when you were supposed to have quality sleep time, because now you felt sleepy. And you should not be sleepy at times like this. 

Fifty eight minutes and forty three seconds left. It would not be so bad to lean your head on the table for five minutes. Supposedly. 

You woke up, vision immediately pointing at the small clock on your desk. 

Shit, you had slept for an hour and a half. 

The screen wasn’t even showing the ticketing website anymore, just your regular wallpaper instead. You wonder if your browser crashed. In panic, you quickly went to type in the website, with tiny bits of hope that somehow, the tickets were not fully booked already. But much to your shock…

You found nothing. 

Did you read it wrong? You remembered it clearly being on the website’s queue with the red colored countdown clock showing on your screen and all. You quickly searched the promoter’s Instagram, in hopes for any link somewhere, just anything.

Nothing. 

Matter of fact, they never posted any Hope on the Stage related content. It was as if, the tour never really existed. With your stomach beginning to churn in a bad way, you went to google. Then your heart dropped. Not only did J-Hope’s tour not show up on the result page, there was never any J-Hope to begin with. Heck, you even tried searching for BTS and the only thing showing up was the word being the abbreviation of “behind the scene”. 

This couldn’t be right. What in the world was happening??? There had to be some type of mistake here. You started panicking, delirious. To top it all off, as you stood up from your desk, you began to tremble in horror upon seeing your room.

All of your merchandises were gone. From your lightstick to albums, to a few photo cards that you put on your desk. None of it on sight. Was this even your room? How could this be???

You took a seat on your bed, trying to recollect yourself and control your breathing. Maybe you were going insane for missing the ticket sales. Maybe. That was the only possible explanation you could think of in your head. 

Then a knock came from your door. 

“Your boyfriend’s here. Are you done?” It was your mother. 

As if the world could not get any crazier. You were one hundred percent sure you were single and were not seeing anyone. 

“I’ll tell him to wait.” Your mom said again without waiting for your response. 

With the leftover sanity you somehow still got, you decided to step out from your room. Hey, maybe you had gone fully mentally insane, and it was time to just embrace it instead of spiraling about it. After all, you just witnessed your favorite boygroup being wiped clear from its existence, what more could possibly be worse?

Your mom eyed you with judgement in her face. “You’re still in your pajamas? I thought you were going out?” 

“What do you mean—“

A very familiar laughter could be heard from the living room. You knew the sound of this laughter so well. You had heard it way too many times, in fact, you did not need to see the person to recognize who it belonged to. For years and years stanning the group, the slightly high-pitched crisp laughter could only be…

“MOM WHY IS J-HOPE IN OUR HOUSE???”

**

“So, let me get this straight. You’re not from this… world?”

“Yes.”

You were now sitting at a small cafe near your house, with none other than Jung Hoseok. Apparently, the last plot twist was that he was just a normal civilian. Not only that, he was your boyfriend too. The two of you had dated for months now. According to the man himself, anniversary was soon arriving in four months. 

The urge to hit yourself with a big frying pan in head for being in this close range with your idol was still there, but fortunately, Hoseok was very helpful. You expected him to go full panic mode, judging by his scaredy-cat demeanor that you were used to seeing on camera, but that seemingly was not the case. He helped you to calm down and listened to your stories without interrupting with any absurd questions, which would be totally understandable to do. He let you finished first before making any assumption. 

“I wanna show you pictures but I couldn’t find any trace of BTS whatsoever in my phone. They’re all gone from my room as well.” 

“That’s crazy, I can’t even imagine myself being adored by thousands of people.” He mused. 

“I actually couldn’t imagine you not being adored by people.” 

He widened his eyes for a second before returning the smile. “That’s so sweet of you. I would totally kiss you right now if I didn’t know any better.”

“Don’t say that.” You covered your face. After all, even with casual circumstances, the man sitting in front of you still had the face of someone you idolized. 

“That’s no good, huh? I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I would’ve thought you just went crazy if you didn’t mention anything about Jungkook.”

“Why? Is he not your friend?” 

“He’s a boxer that goes to the same gym as me.” He paused. “But I just got to know him like two weeks ago, and I haven’t told you anything about it.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes widened in surprise. 

“This is mind-blowing.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It was scary how accurate you described his looks too.” 

He later showed you each of the guys pictures. Each of them looking different but somehow still what you would expected them to look like without the celebrity glamour. Namjoon worked in office as a copywriter, Taehyung gave saxophone lessons to kids, Jin apparently owned a restaurant, and what shocked you the most, Jimin being a police officer. Yoongi was the only one somehow still close to what you would imagine him to be, a composer. You could never picture Hobi being anything else other than well, himself, but despite his main job being a regular nine to five, he would occasionally take dance classes by the weekends, which sounded a lot more like him. 

The seven matching tattoos they all had seemed to be missing though, which was unfortunate. 

“You know what, I think that’s enough of dwelling for the day.” Hoseok suddenly said in excitement. “I still owe you an amazing date for the day.”

“But wouldn’t it be weird with me being like this?” You reasoned. “I’m a huge fan of yours and this is like an opportunity of my lifetime but it doesn’t feel right…”

“Just think of it as a friendship date!” He smiled cheerfully. “Maybe it’ll cheer you up?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

Your heart softened at his kindness. “Really?”

“Yup.” He nodded eagerly and offered his hand. “We’re a bit behind schedule but I’ve planned this in my head so we’re good.”

You went through something you thought could only happen in your dreams. You went on a date, with a man you had been a fan of for so many years. You knew your judgement couldn’t be considered as fair but it surprisingly did not feel awkward at all, hanging out with Hoseok. It felt natural, like you had known each other for years. Which technically was true in your case with you being a longtime fan, it wasn’t the same story with him. 

“So, what made you a fan?” Hobi asked as you both enjoyed a shared bowl of caramel pudding, just right after taking pictures. 

You hummed. “I mean to be honest with you, I wasn’t a fan at the beginning. I thought you guys were just this industry plant with zero talent that got your success by looking pretty.”

“I don’t know if I should be mad that you said we have zero talent or to be proud that you just called us pretty.” He chuckled. 

You smiled. “Watching the videos from your early days, I saw your struggles and how you guys truly worked hard to get to where you are now.”

“A middle-class nine to five worker?” He chuckled. “Man, I really envy the other me. He must be loaded.”

“Money can’t buy happiness?” You eyed him. 

“Yeah, but it sure can buy me a new pair of shoes.” He wiggled his worn out shoes in front of you playfully. 

“Well, I guess that applies to you in this world too.” You smiled softly. “I don’t want to hear you belittling yourself like that, okay? I know despite all there’s no way there is a universe where the Hoseok I know isn’t a genuine and hard working person.” 

His expression softened and he seemed to be speechless for a moment. “Thank you…”

“No, thank you.” You took the courage to grab his hand. “For existing.”

“That’s not fair.” He withdrew from the chair. Ears turning slightly red. “I think you just made me fall in love with you all over again.”

“Goodness…” You whined, now covering your face in embarrassment. 

“It’s true!” He laughed despite his cheeks being covered in blush. 

“What’s she like? The other me?” You looked up at him. 

“She’s a very kind person. Has the softest heart, the prettiest smile, and the warmest hug.” He giggled. “She’s very passionate about what she does and would always try her best to cheer others up when they feel down.” He looked up in wonder. He looked so smitten. 

You couldn’t help but to feel all giddy to yourself after hearing his words, only seconds later to come into full realization that he wasn’t really talking about you. It was just another version of you that you never knew of. 

“Well, that’s not me though. I’m not in any way shape or form a soft person.” You smiled sadly. 

Hoseok looked at you with a warm smile before sighing. “I think you’re exactly the same, just in different font. Just like what you said to me, I also don’t think there is a universe where you exist as someone I dislike.” 

“Technically in my universe, you don’t know I exist at all.” You chuckled despite feeling sad about what you just said. 

“That’s very unfortunate but…” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “In a way I think we still love each other. It’s just in another form. You with my music and me with your supportive presence.”

You swore you almost teared up. “That’s… yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

He flashed you a bright smile and got up from his chair. “Alright, we still have one more place to go!” 

“We do?!” You looked at him with excitement. “Where?”

He took out his phone from his pocket, seemingly texting someone before quickly putting it back. “You’ll see.” 

After a ten minutes ride you arrived at a karaoke bar. 

“Ooh, are we here to test your rap skills?” You teased as you followed him to the door. 

He just laughed before talking to the cashier, mentioning his reservation booking. 

As you walked through the hallway to reach the room, you just now noticed that he had been holding your hand ever since you got out from the car. He had not let it go since and you chose to not say a word about it and just enjoy the moment. 

“Ready?” He looked at you with one hand on the door handle. Wiggling his eyebrows at you, teasing. 

“What’s this all about?” You looked at him suspiciously.

“SURPRISE!!!”

A loud gasp escaped your mouth. You could now die happily with nothing to lose. How in the world did Hoseok manage to convince all of his friends, which were quite literally, the Bangtan boys to you, to join in such short notice? 

“What do you think?” He looked at you with a smug grin. 

“I need a moment.” You took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. You looked at Hobi in the eyes and almost cried. “This is insane.”

“I still don’t get why us being here would be a surprise, but okay.” Yoongi said with a straight face. 

“Yeah, you’re so dramatic!” Taehyung laughed. “What are we? A boyband or something???” 

Oh if only he knew. 

You looked at them all and a wide smile crept up on your lips. At this point, maybe you were dead already and this was just heaven. Or purgatory? You couldn’t care less. It wouldn’t hurt to just play along. 

“Am I not allowed to be a little dramatic? You guys are amazing, okay?!” 

“That I must agree.” Seokjin nodded his head vigorously and laughed. 

Your eyes shifted to Jungkook at the corner. “Hello! I don’t think I know you?” You hoped that sounded promising enough. 

“Oh, hi!” He said with excitement. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, you noticed. “I’m Jungkook!” He offered his hand and you felt a bit sad seeing how his tattoos looked all similar but missing the “army” lettering on the fingers.  

You managed a smile and said your name. “Nice to meet you. I hope these guys aren’t too weird for your liking?”

“Oh, this is my first time and I’m already sure they’re just as brainrotted as I am!” He laughed. 

“He’s saying that cause he has a huge crush on Namjoon.” Jimin joined. 

Namjoon muttered an “Oh my god” and the rest laughed along. 

“It’s true! The first thing he did when he entered the room was staring at Namjoon’s thighs.” Jin said in high-pitched voice. 

“I was zoning out!” Jungkook protested. 

“Sure, buddy.” Jin teased. “We should play a Lady Gaga song to celebrate Jungkook coming out from the closet!”

Everyone laughed as Jin and Jungkook continued to bicker with each other in the background. Namjoon took the remote and actually started playing a song on random. 

“Oh! I love this song!” Jimin clapped his hands and took one of the microphones. 

Everyone started singing along as well, which stopped the still occurring fight between Seokjin and Jungkook. 

“Eyes Nose Lips?” You looked at Hobi who was sitting beside you. 

“Who doesn’t love G-Dragon?” He said to you with a grin. 

“Wait, G-Dragon?! In my world this is Taeyang’s song!” You laughed. “This is so bizarre, but also, it’s some next level deja vu.” You chuckled. “I’ve seen a video of you guys singing along to this song many years ago.”

“See? This world isn’t so different, right?” 

“I guess so.” 

The karaoke was so fun. You get to see Yoongi singing Baby Shark (he was forced), Namjoon singing, which sounded awful, he should had tried a hiphop song instead, and of course, Jungkook flexing his beautiful voice that was apparently a hidden talent of his. You managed to convince Hoseok to perform one A$ap Rocky song, which of course regardless having no music experience, he went a little too good on it. 

But as much as you would want to spend the eternity in that karaoke room, the session must come to an end. You said you goodbyes to everyone, settling down with a hi-five to each of everyone, since you figured asking for a hug would just weird them all out. 

Hey, maybe this was not a dream and you would get to live your life like this for the rest of your life? But also, who would know if the next day you wake up and everything just vanished? 

“Here we are.” Hobi said as he pulled his car in front of your house. 

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked without further thinking. 

“I can?” He said in disbelief, pointing at himself. 

“I thought you come over to my house a lot judging by this morning.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just worried because you might not be that comfortable with me yet.” He sheepishly said. 

“I still want to spend time with you.” You said shyly. 

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. I’ll try my best to control myself!” He chuckled. 

You blushed, but laughed as well. Opening the door you were greeted by your parents who were immediately asking whether if both you had eaten anything or not. After rejecting your mother’s request to eat again, both of you finally went upstairs to your room. 

“I love how my mom still acts the same.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Do you think she likes me?” Hoseok asked with worry. 

“She wouldn’t have let me take you to my room if she doesn’t.” You smiled and folded your hands. “Relax!”

“We’re in your bedroom and you told me to relax?! Yeah, how???” He laughed. 

“You haven’t been here before?”

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Aren’t we… Don’t we do… that?” You asked awkwardly. 

“Oh, we do yeah.” Hobi seemed to be struggling with his words as well. “It was in my place last time.”

Your face turned deep red instantly. “That’s good to know… I guess.”

“The other you never invited me in like this before.” He giggled. 

“I adore her level of self restraint.”

He laughed. “She’s just a bit shy, I think.” 

“It’s okay to say I’m shameless, Hobi. I get it.” You put a hand on your chest dramatically, making him laugh even more. 

“It’s not that I swear!” He said, still giggling. “I like this version of you as well, It’s refreshing.”

You stopped and looked around your room for a moment. You realized how after you left this morning, you had not taken much look at your room besides the missing merchandises. Then your sight fell on the small bedside table next to your bed and how the drawer was slightly ajar. 

The drawer wasn’t even fully out when you stopped yourself halfway. It was full of Polaroid pictures of you and Hoseok together. As you pulled the drawer all the way, it revealed more small trinkets that you assumed was gifted from Hobi to you. There was one picture of him that you took from behind, on the corner it had “My Hope” written. 

You then closed drawer back, deciding the other you deserved her privacy. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked, moving towards your direction.

“Just checking out if the other me has the same stuff on her bedside.” You smiled. 

“And?” 

“Nope. It's empty.” You giggled. “Mine though on the other hand, was full with you guys’ photocards!” You laughed and moved away from the side of the bed. “Should we watch something?“

“Sure! What are you feeling?”

“I actually am really curious what you guys have for movie options here.” You chuckled. 

You sat down on your bed and told Hoseok not to worry about his outside clothes and join you. As both of you browsed through the movie options, you couldn’t help but to notice how close you were to him. To think that just moments ago you were stressed out on not getting tickets to see him while now you could just watch a movie with the said guy, in your own bedroom. 

“You’re staring.” He turned to you and patted your head. 

“Sorry, can’t help it.” You smiled, blushing. “I still can’t believe I can just… hangout like this with you.”

“Yikes, this is a hangout to you? I thought this was some romantic stuff.” He faked a sad pout. 

“I’m still getting used to it!” You lightly hit his sides. 

“Can I hold you?” 

“Huh?” Your head jerked up. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to!” He quickly waved his hand in front of his face, dismissing the idea. 

The thought of waking up from this dream crossed your mind. 

“Actually, yeah. That sounds really nice.” 

Soon enough both of you were cuddled up watching some random musical.

It felt warm and safe in his arms, you were not sure if you were ready to ever let go. The comfortable silence made your thoughts wander around, thinking about what had happened throughout this whole new adventure of yours. Yes, the craziest thing was still how your idols just turned out to be regular people, but you might had discovered something else. 

You had always considered yourself as a healthy fan. You were never the type to overly obsess over celebrities and their personal lives. You were never the type to act possessive over dating rumors, even deep down you wished they could just date people publicly. So, you knew clearly the difference between admiring an artist to having genuine feelings towards somebody. 

You thought about how Hoseok was being the most gentle and patient man ever through the day. He never once judged what you said, or downplay your situation in any way. How he simply just seemed like the most kind-hearted and genuine person. The words he said to you, making you feel all mushy on the inside. All of that thoughts made you terrified. Because there was a high chance you would wake up tomorrow and it would be like none of these ever existed. Huge part of you still couldn’t grasp the reality, you refused to believe this was real. 

Still, small part of you could only wish this to be your reality. You wished you could never leave from this warm embrace. You wished life was just that simple. 

“Hobi?”

“Hmm?” He replied with a light peck on top of your head. 

“I’m sorry I’m not your girlfriend.”

You felt his body stiffened at your words. He turned his body to face you. “But you are my girlfriend.”

“I’m not. That’s another person that you've known for a long time. We just met today.”

Hoseok sighed, his shoulder dropped. “Do you not like it? This reality?”

You smiled but a tear escaped your left eye. “That’s the thing. I started liking it so much I never want to leave.” You quickly wiped the fallen tears. “And I can’t. I know I’m going to leave because this isn’t real… Hobi, I’m not this amazing person you fell in love with—“

“Don’t cry.” He pulled your head, leaning it against his chest. Tears now dampening his t-shirt. “Never apologize for being yourself. Hey, I’m not even your idol. Just an ordinary guy here.”

“And I want that.” You hugged him closer, burying your face. “I want you near with me forever like this.” 

“You have me.” He said as he stoke your hair softly. 

“Hold me until I fall asleep, please?” You looked at him with reddened eyes. “I might not be here tomorrow.” 

Although the room had dimmed lights, you saw Hoseok eyes started to tear up as well. “We don’t know that.” 

“I’m so glad I met you like this.” You forced yourself to smile with tears still flowing out. 

And suddenly, a soft kiss was planted on your lips. There was no hesitation in your mind as you returned the act. When you put your arms over his shoulder, and his on your waist, deepening the kiss, you could feel his a tear rolled down his cheek. When you finally let go of each other, all breathless, he gave you one last kiss on your forehead. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here with you when you wake up tomorrow.”

**

The vibrating notification woke you up from your light slumber. Your phone being on your desk amplified the effect, waking you up instantly. 

“Did you get the ticket?” A text from your friend popped up on the screen. 

Took you a second before the truth sank on you. 

It was a just a dream after all. 

You looked to your front, disheartened to see your laptop screen showing the ticketing page, with all seat option turned gray. The tickets were all sold out already. 

See how the universe just loved to mess with you. You could just be sad that you missed the ticket sale, but for some reason, now you had to be sad twice because of the hyperrealistic vivid dream you just had. 

You brought your hand to touch your lips. The kiss did feel very real to you. 

“No, I overslept.” You replied to your friend. 

A reply came in seconds. 

“Ain’t you glad you’re friends with me? I got two tickets!!!”

Fast forward to months later, it was finally the day you got to attend the concert you had been waiting for. You picked your best outfit and packed your essentials. Most importantly, you braced yourself.

Finally, you would get to see Hoseok again. It was almost too ridiculous for you to even think about it like that. Of course he had never met you before, he didn’t even know anything about your existence in the first place. It was just something only you knew, something that had been occupying your mind for the past months. A fake memory you cherished to yourself. 

And when the gates were open and you got to stand behind the steel bars away from the stage, it hit you. You and him were just too different. He was born to perform on that big stage, entertaining people around the globe. While you? You were just glad to be born in the same world with him. 

The concert was astonishing. The visuals were extraordinary, the sound system sounded amazing, the choreography was crazy, and most importantly, it showed you exactly how J-Hope deserved his fame and success. His performance was breathtaking, how he could change the atmosphere through the songs, all that without the presence of his fellow members. You felt so proud of him. 

Your friend got the tickets that were included with a send-off package. Sure, you were impressed and glad she got the best ticket option, but now you felt anxious thinking about seeing Hoseok up close. 

When the concert ended and you were told to line up for the send-off in another area, you could literally feel your body tremble. 

“Nervous?” Your friend asked you. 

“Yeah.” You could only say. 

“Me too!” She squealed. “I heard he looks ethereal in real life.” 

Your breath hitched when you saw the man entered the premise. There he was, the love of your life. His hair slicked back but he still looked relaxed in his hoodie. He was wearing the concert hoodie and honestly you had no idea how he made it look so high fashion. 

Multiple people before you started getting handshakes, selfies, and even hugs. The whole time your eyes were glued on him. His never found yours, not until when he reached your standing area. 

“Did you enjoy the concert?” He suddenly asked. 

“Huh?”

You could hear your friend’s frustrated whispers next to you, questioning your underwhelming reaction. You were just too stunned to speak. All the memories just came over and washed you again at once. 

“I’m sorry.” You chuckled but your eyes started to look glassy. “Yes, yes I did!”

“That’s awesome!” He gave you the brightest smile you had ever witnessed in your life before moving to the next line. 

That was it. You would never see him ever again. 

“Are you crying?!” Your friend asked you. “Aww, don’t cry…”

“I’m okay, just a bit starstruck.” You smiled and wiped the remaining tears with your knuckles. 

You would be okay. You had been through worse. After all it was more just your wild imagination betraying you in your sleep, it was none of his fault. 

“Wait.”

All eyes were suddenly focused on the idol once again. He was already standing three people ahead from where you were, but stopped and looked back. His eyes were clearly looking straight at your direction. The bodyguards tried to stop him, but he motioned his hand back at them. 

“Have we met somewhere before?”

Thank you for reading! 🎤

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 18

Story Masterlist

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with THIS LINKED POST to be added to the tag list. 

NOTE: Only reason Reader is torn about her current thoughts is because she’s scared to mess up the story more. Also doesn’t want Dion to become more clingy lol. Also a bit confused on how to properly write Grizelda. Hopefully she’s not too out of character.

Warnings: HEAVY themes of non-consensual sexual interactions, self-blaming, victim blaming once or twice by Fontaine, implied past attempted sexual assault, implied hypertheoretical physical abuse, self-harm (biting thumb), accidental self-harm (biting lip hard enough to draw blood), slight blood, thoughts of murder, thoughts of having Fontaine killed, near panic attack(s), Lant brings up the birthcontrol, a very awkward conversation about the Reader’s parents, implied toxic familial relationships, toxic relationship/marriage, obsessive and possessive themes, general yandere themes, mention of considered kidnapping, themes/mentions of imprisonment, mention of considered drugging, abuse of power (Dion towards certain employees. Personally, I do think he would do this), mention of physical abuse, mention of injuries (broken bones), mention of starvation, certain employees being put in danger, threats of violence (Fontaine to the Reader), slight themes of infidelity (no one cheats, just a quick thought that quickly goes by). Please tell me if I missed any.

Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS (BLOGS THAT DO NOT HAVE ANY CONTENT)/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

= = =

Grizelda Agriche. 

A sorceress who played a major role in the coup to overthrow Lant and destroy the Agriche family. The young girl had drawn a magic circle for her younger sister, hidden by Roxana’s poison butterflies before the trap went off.

A memory of someone being killed in front of her was shown along with her reminiscing about what she had to do to survive. Clear delight was shown in her smile at the commotion, clearly ecstatic about the outcome - about Lant’s downfall.

But that was in the manhwa, the story overall - how will everything unfold now? Or will nothing happen?

Your appearance was an anomaly in itself. You already changed the story against your will.

… did I… fuck up everything?

Your thoughts are interrupted by her calm voice.

“You look like a mess.” Her voice isn’t as soft as Roxana’s. It suits her. “Did Dion do this?”

Her accusation has you shaking your head ‘no.’ For as much as you detest and fear that heathen, aside from fleeting touches that scream touch starved and has you reeling back in disgust or unbridled fear, he never raised a hand against you. 

Some might tell you that it should comfort you, that your oh so lovely husband doesn’t raise a hand against you. But really, that was the bare minimum of being a decent person. You’re not about to praise him for the bare minimum. 

It was already hard enough to function around him, nevermind seeing the ‘good’ in him. Just thinking about him has freezing needles piercing your flesh, already feeling the cuffs on your hands and ankles. You shiver, gulping. 

Your throat is tight and dry. 

“I see. Well, that’s good. I doubt you would survive long with him had he done so.” Curiosity filled eyes rake over your entire form - you feel naked and vulnerable.

Instead of asking if you’re okay, she stands and goes back to her desk. Distracted by her unexpected appearance, you look around the room, momentarily forgetting Fontaine. 

Papers on the walls with magic circles and scribbled data, stacked books around the room, a window that shows the swaying trees and blue sky, a desk covered in magical items. Glass test tubes filled with mysterious liquids, but no bed in sight. This must be her study.

Great, you think. You interrupted her work - she’ll surely find you a nuance. There’s a sharp sting on your tongue as your teeth dig into something mushy.

Were you really at fault for this? You didn’t choose to run into the eldest Agriche child. You didn’t give him the wrong idea, you didn’t ask for anything, and yet his disgusting hands touched you, his brother’s wife, an unwilling woman -

…no. If you hadn’t left the bedroom and just tolerated Dion, you wouldn’t be here. Your chest feels heavy with self-disappointment, kicking yourself for leaving Dion’s room. However, your sullen figure jitters to life once panic starts to kick in, remembering why you barged into the room.  

He’ll be here soon. She’ll kick me out. Your thoughts run about as you lick your dry lips. 

You try to stand.

You wrestle with yourself to not scream when you move your left foot to get up, completely forgetting the blasted thing was sprained. It burns, it feels like a molten knife is twisting in it.

You. You did this to yourself. Had you just tolerated Dion, endured those ghastly touches that are softer than what they should be but still as repulsive. Endured the unwanted attention, his detestable affection, let his cold and calloused fingers link with yours just for a moment -  

Your ears perk at the sound of drawers opening and closing, your sister-in-law rummaging through them. While wondering what she’s looking for, you inspect the injured and swelling body part. Biting your lip to muffle any sounds, wincing as you carefully slide your heel off, unable to hold back a sigh of relief once it’s off.

You freeze as the sound of heavy footsteps stop outside the door. 

RATTLE, RATTLE 

Someone tries to open the door across the hallway. It’s extremely loud that just by hearing it vibrations are sent throughout your body. There’s a muffled curse and you stop breathing when you recognize it - recognize him.

Fontaine. 

More footsteps but this time they stop directly in front of Grizelda’s door. Holding your breath as he tries the knob, you pray to a God that has clearly abandoned you. 

RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE

It’s more violent, the knob threatening to break and fall off. You hold back a whimper, shaking pathetically. You should have stayed in Dion’s room. Should have tolerated the man, go out to the terrace and lock it so he couldn’t go near you once you let him have his fun.

You could have avoided this. Avoided the ugly and more perverted brother. A potential rapist, a bigger threat to your safety and sanity if he were to ever get his hands on you. You start to lightly pant, clenching at your chest, vivid images of a fate worse than death flashing in your head. 

The taste of iron. The smell of blood. It’s vivid, you can already feel his hands on your neck before they travel lower and lower, rougher than your husband, consent forgotten, thrown away. Dion - he wouldn’t do this, would he?

He… wouldn’t… right?

When Fontaine speaks through the door, something cold rushes in strings through your body. It’s painful, everything is. 

“Fucking hell - which room are you in, you bitch!? I know you didn’t make any turns - a door wouldn’t have slammed shut otherwise. If you come on out right now, maybe I’ll be -”

An arm grabs yours, pulling you up harshly. Your bottom lip starts to bleed as skin is broken, your teeth digging into it as you hold back a scream. Quietly, Grizelda opens the closet you managed to miss, and closes the doors without a sound. You stand there, jolting when she comes back, handing your disregarded heel over to you.

Her actions confuse you but you don’t have time to mull over it as she shushes you with a finger held against her lips. You can’t stop shaking.

She closes the doors again once you nod your head. It’s completely empty save for a cloak or two, and you hold your breath as the brunette fakes a realistic and convincing groggy voice.

“...Huh? Who the hell? I can’t even take a nap in peace.” Footsteps echo in the room followed by the door opening. “Hm? Fontaine?” No fear is laced in her faked discombobulated tone. 

It sounds perfect. Which leads to the question - how often has she done this?

Why would she do this?

There’s a pause before her older brother replies, “Grizelda. What are you doing here?” You imagine him trying to peek his head in to catch a glimpse of you. A strong sense of dread and terror crawls down your spine at it.

It feels like insects are crawling all over your body, their stick-like legs digging into the flesh. Your nails dig into the heel in your hands.

“It’s my study,” she answers like it’s obvious. Your heartbeat almost drowns out their conversation. What are they doing? What if she’s secretly leading him into the room, pointing at your hiding place?

“Your study? Ah, right. Never mind that - have you seen a certain rabbit hop by? She decided to repay my generosity with violence like the whore she is.” His voice drips with heavy resentment and venom, filling your head with images of what he could and would do once he gets his hands on you.

She answers immediately. “A rabbit? I haven't seen one lately. Wait, who are you referring to?”

He pauses before giving a vague answer. “A girl around your age. Out of breath and crying like a baby.”

Fontaine sounds like a school boy trying to sound cool or to avoid punishment. If you weren’t on the verge of collapsing, you would have laughed at the absurdity. The audacity this mistake has after he tried to force himself on you. 

But fear overtakes any anger you might have felt. You’re barely able to breathe in this closed off space. It’s about to become your coffin.

“Around my age? It’s not one of our siblings… is it a maid?”

“She’s a recent addition.”

Could he be any more obvious?

Your inner dialogue does little to distract you from the scorching pain, almost crying out and bumping your head against the wood, accidentally putting too much pressure on your left foot. As gently and quietly as you can, you lean on your right side, praying that no noise is made. It hurts.

You quietly chuckle to and at yourself, the sound of a whisper.

You’re nothing more than a pathetic dog.

“Wait, surely you’re not talking about our new in-law, Dion’s wife. Do you know what harsh punishments father has instored for anyone who lays a hand on her that isn’t himself or Dion?”

“It’s not like I’m going to kill her. I just want to teach that wrench a lesson in manners.” Fontaine growls out like a dog. But the leash his father placed on him is tight as she continues to question him, frustration clear but held, an obvious need and want to avoid punishment. 

It seems that your brother-in-law does have some survival instincts, despite how big his head is.

“No-one, aside from Dion, has permission to give her any ‘lessons.’ I’m not sure what happened, but if she really did wrong you, then you should report it to Dion personally.” 

Both you and Fontaine pause, halting your breathing as the suggestion soaks into both of your brains.

Dion… what would he do?

 A droplet of sweat rolls down your temple as you give it more thought. In the Manhwa, after Fontaine was beaten and chained in the dungeon, the former favorite son was going to pluck out his brother’s eyes before killing him. Even though it was only a beautiful digital drawn panel, the image of Dion bending iron bars and a shadow over his glowing crimson eyes, pure hatred in them was enough to almost make you pity Fontaine.

Would… would he react that way if you told him…? No, rather, do you want him to? 

You must be going mad, for a small part of you is planning on it. No - you’re looking forward to it.

Your head feels weird at the thought. But your heart beats erratically at it. It’s… tempting. For once, you feel yourself wanting to seek your husband out. 

However, one thing stops you.

Your teeth dig into your thumb. You are by no means a saint, nor do you want to be one. But… What if he asks more of you? What if by just telling him, you end up giving the impression you want him? 

No. Yes. You should, you shouldn’t. He’s your husband, it’s his obligation, but it’s Dion -

“Do you honestly think Dion cares enough to listen? He only married her under father’s orders. Besides, he didn’t even look at her during the wedding and he left right after the consummation.” Arrogantly pointing those things out, you can only imagine the annoyed expression he’s certainly making. 

The closet is starting to feel stuffy the longer they talk. Your ankle brings a different type of pain when you accidently curl your toes, hissing through your teeth as you almost bite through the bone of your thumb. Shaky and heavy breaths that you attempt to steady, staying quiet, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Your nerves are on fire. It feels like sharp needles are digging in and stabbing at your ankle, your thumb bleeding as the taste of iron imprints itself in your mouth. Snot clogs your nose and you hold back a sob.

Why are you so weak?

Their muffled voices make your ears perk.  

“Then tell father, if you’re so sure of that. Either or.” Your sister-in-law tells her older brother  like it’s law. Ah, how silly of you. Of course it was.

“Father… I don’t want to bother him with such trivial things.” There’s a nervous tilt at the end of his sentence. “He has better things to do than punish that bitch.”

“‘Bitch’? I see that you’re rather daring today. Regardless, laying your hands on her would only get you punished once father finds out.”

“If he finds out.”

“No. He will. He always does.” She tells him so factually that it’s funny. You know that it’s not completely true - after all, the coup happened and was successful. 

But that was only in the story… 

Your skin feels damp, goosebumps forming on every exposed part. Saliva soothes the indents on your thumb - you’ll need to treat this later. Your tongue swirls around the digit, uncaring if any blood drips on and stains your dress.

It doesn’t cross your mind that once Dion sees you, he’ll demand an explanation. 

“Right. When you do see that rabbit, tell me.” She doesn’t respond and you hear the door close not too soon afterwards. Then, you hear a ‘click.’

You wait with baited breath as footsteps make their way towards your hiding stop. The thudding of your heart overrides everything else. The footsteps sounded like heels and were light. But you’re still paranoid that it’s Fontaine and-

Creeaakk

Your body jolts and eyes squint as the closet doors open, light invading the darkness that once eloped you. Blinking rapidly, you watch as Grizelda eyes you, her gaze landing on your poor, abused thumb. Her expression is blank - no mockery nor sympathy is evident on her face.

In a way, it’s almost comforting.

“You’re a mess,” she says as she takes it upon herself to help you out. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up…” little do you know that an image of a pissed Dion flashes in her head, suppressing the violent shudder. Despite not seeing the married couple interact, her gut screams that maybe, just maybe you’re someone who shouldn’t be touched.

Like a docile lamb, you do as she says, sitting in the chair as she searches through the drawers for first aid she usually kept. Only to find none.

Great, she thinks, just great.

Of course she wouldn’t have any on the day she needs them. She takes a quick glance at you - she wouldn’t be in this predicament if you didn’t stumble across her study -

Wait. Her eyes widened before returning to normal at the realization. 

She never got a sample of your blood… no wonder why it didn’t work. She considers taking one from your wound. But then she takes another look at you - red and puffy eyes, a bleeding lip, your right thumb bitten into like a piece of meat. Your clothes are all wrinkled and hair out of place.

You look so tired, so terrified.

Like a captured rabbit.

Something stirs inside her. How odd, how concerning.

With a sigh, she decides against it, standing to full height and goes to the closet, standing in front of it.

You don’t mean anything to her and she doubts she has a place in your heart. She doesn’t have to be nice to you. She didn’t have to help you. 

Nimble fingers takes one of the cloaks out, and she heads back to her desk. She places it on the sturdy surface, and takes some scissors out from a drawer. Her actions halt the more she thinks about it. Hadn’t she done enough by hiding you?

Your maid could treat your injuries. 

But, to fight back against an Agriche despite the risks…

You’re a fool for that. And yet -

The scissors glide through the fabric, ignoring the cautious looks you throw her way. Regardless, her body feels hotter the longer you stare. Once she’s done, she tries her best not to sigh - you’re nothing but an injured and terrified rabbit. She closes her eyes.

She’s only doing this because you’re new and she’s curious. She’s only doing this to hear stories of how things are beyond the walls of Agriche.

She’s only doing this because you sparked a speck of interest in her.

When her eyes open, she turns to face you. 

“Unfortunately, I currently don’t have any first aid on me.” The only reason you give her your thumb is due to the determination in her eyes - stubbornness vs weakness. When she sighs you do your best to not react, well aware you were walking on thin ice. Probably.

Well, considering you kind of… broke into her study, you probably are.

Then, you realize it - you were able to open the door and not Fontaine. But how? Why?

Regardless, that fact only adds to your apprehension. Especially when she deeply inspects your dumb, head tilting to the side as she considers something. You become a statue, watching her every moment, from the way she eyes your injury to how her fingers play with the fabric in her free hand. Her eyes flicker to yours. 

“You bite on it often, don’t you? There’s still fresh-ish bite marks on it. You should stop that before it becomes infected - unless, of course, you want to lose it.” You can’t tell if she’s scolding you or not, a tiny amount of amusement in her eyes while there’s also a firmness in both the soft red hues and her lips. 

She continues before you can even think of answering.

“Aside from that, I’ll do you another favor - I’ll use my magic to heal your ankle.” She says, so matter of fact, that you’re left dumbfounded as she starts to clean your thumb to the best of her abilities before wrapping it up. Your hand jerks and it takes effort to not pull away.

Her touch is gentle, but you regain your mind as she kneels, seemingly forgetting that she is not a servant but a noble. 

You regain your voice. 

“U-um, thank you for the o-offer, but I just need some ice-”

“Do you want Dion to find out?”

That shuts you up. Your eyes cloud over with something she can’t decipher. Your mind is tearing itself apart as you consider it. It’s hard not to.

… It’s not like Fontaine would be an innocent victim. Plus, if he’s killed right now… wait, but that nightmare might actually lock me up if he finds out I was injured and targeted. To ‘protect’ me if he does want to keep me ‘safe.’

Not to mention… the story… that stupid story!

Your head falls into your hands. The dull ache in your chest overrides the physical pain.

“I… I don’t know.” Indecisive, you take a breath, forcing out any self-pity for the moment. Just focus on your sister-in-law. You can think about everything later. For now, you suppose, you should take her offer. Walking on it would be hell otherwise. 

Grizelda doesn’t say anything. Lifting your foot up makes you hiss through your teeth. Your face stays buried in your hands, hatred for yourself deepening. You want to rely on a man who’ll happily keep you prisoner if it means you won’t run. 

While also considering keeping a man who would rape you alive. You shouldn’t. Maybe you should tell Dion - Fontaine deserves it. But what his death would ruin your faith entirely?

Your lungs beg to scream.   

- - -

She drew a magic circle on your foot. It took several minutes, covering your mouth with your palms to muffle the cries of pain with each touch. The brunette was patient aside from the huffs of annoyance here and there. Regardless, she did pause and give you a few moments to recover.

Even so, you endured it, if only to hurry the process. 

“Ugh…” tears form in your eyes as hot pain shoots from your foot to up your leg. It feels like hot, melting needles are being stabbed into every nerve, every tendon. Your fingers dig into the edge of the seat as your head rolls back, thumping against the headrest. 

Deep and shallow breaths as you calm your nerves, teeth nearly tearing your bottom lip apart.

 It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, 

IT HURTS -

“Endure for a bit longer.” Something warm and string-like flows from her fingertips and into your bloodstream. Jolting at the new sensation, you lie to yourself and say it’s soothing and not uncomfortable. That it doesn’t feel like something is being tied and untied within you.

“Haah… p-please don’t - guh!” A painful groan cuts you off. You feel both cold and hot, skin drenched in cold sweat as your clothes make you feel stuffy. Hot.

“Hm? Don’t what?” Your sister-in-law halfheartedly asks, barely listening. 

“D-don’t… tell him. Please .”

He might go off the rails if anyone else tells him… no, it’ll be worse than that. 

Grizelda glances at you before returning her attention to her work, promising she’ll stay quiet. After all, it’s not her problem. Besides, bloodshed between kin is forbidden unless ordered. While her father would punish his eldest son, he wouldn’t order his death.

In his eyes, he is still useful. 

Getting rid of him now would only hinder everything.

She looks at you again. 

A scared little rabbit, an unwilling bride, a captive, a victim, a play thing - every word that describes you flashes in her head. In everyone’s eyes, that’s all you are, really - prey. Of course, most will stay far away from you, not willing to take the chance to anger the favorite son. 

Not willing to take the chance to anger Lant.

But there are fools who want to take a bite. 

And fools who pity you.

The more she looks at you, the more she realizes that you are not a person in Black Agriche. You’re a chest piece in Lant’s game. She doesn’t know what the prize is.

Her eyes return to your injury. With every second, the more she questions your purpose. You have nothing to offer. Your family, while a noble one, doesn’t have a high reputation like others. No hidden skills, no illegal activities that could have caught his eye. 

But, then she questions if this was orchestrated by Dion. She shakes her head. You didn’t even know each other prior to the engagement. Unless…

She shudders. She should stop thinking about it. 

“I pity you. You lost your individuality the moment you kissed him.” For whatever reason, she decided to voice her thoughts. It wasn’t to torment you. 

She waits for your reaction.

You don’t say anything, at first. Like you were trying to find the right words to say. She sees the way your lips are pursed, fingers digging deeper into the chair. With an exhale, you finally reply.

“I… I know.”

By the time you responded, she was done, slipping your heel back on.

- - -

The trip back to Dion’s room was painfully slow for the sorceress. While she understood you were paranoid to return by yourself, it was also interfering with her work. She should have called a maid. 

However, she decided to take this opportunity to ask how the outside world was - first, about your family where you gave extremely vague answers. And then, some things you would do outside of your family’s estate. Had she had more experience with the outside world she would have found your mundane answers boring, but it was interesting to see what a ‘normal’ person was like.

She should learn before you go mad. 

“I see. So your parent’s marriage was also arranged.” Your fingers slightly dig into your palms as you nod your head. “Did they ever fall in love?” Curiosity mixed with something else, she wonders if you will with Dion - not that she expects it, but it’s not completely impossible. 

Probably. 

“I’m…,” you blink as you try to answer only to reply, “I’m not sure. They’re not very affectionate with each other, but they are loyal and respectful towards each other. I guess there was an obligation to produce an heir…” you awkwardly finish off.

Grizelda questions what you meant by that, finding your troubled and embarrassed expression kind of cute. It’s refreshing.

“Um… they didn’t… stop until my brother was born. As you know, I have an older sister, then there’s me, and finally, the only boy who is the youngest. Considering there hasn’t been a third nor any talk of one, I’m guessing they’re… d-done.”

The brunette has a hard time keeping her laugh at bay. Obviously your reaction towards it is different from her own. Two different environments and ‘morals.’ 

“I see. If you don’t mind me asking, how are your siblings? As you probably know, my own and I aren’t…” 

Unfortunately the barrage of questions is interrupted once she catches sight of slicked back black hair. Blood colored eyes land on your figures as the older man walks across from you, and he stops to ‘greet you.’

You both bow as a sign of ‘respect.’

“Oh? Now there’s an unexpected sight - Grizelda and the daughter-in-law taking a walk.” Lant comments as you raise your heads. There’s no smirk but the hint of sinister curiosity puts you on edge.

Yeah. you shouldn’t have left the bedroom after all.

For if you didn’t, images of your death wouldn’t be drowning you until you could barely breathe. Your lungs squeeze painfully as his eyes look past you, gauging if he should use you today.

A gross sensation travels from your toes to your head, fearful that he might -

“I take it that Dion told you about the contraceptives?” He looks serious, no hint of sinister playfulness on his face. From the corner of your eye you see your sister-in-law giving you a puzzled look until ‘realization’ hits her, making her give you a ‘knowing’ one.

… she has the wrong idea…

You’re not sure if you should correct her once Lant leaves.

“O-oh, yes, of course, father-in-law.”

He nods his head in approval. “Good. It might be for a good while.” And just like that, he leaves, not sparing you nor his daughter another glance. Weight is lifted off your shoulders once he’s out of sight.

If only he would stay out of mind. 

“Hm. Leave it to father to plan out his son’s future,” she almost snickers. You swear that hidden resentment is laced in it, but push it out of mind.

“... yes.” 

Still, you’re shaken by the unexpected encounter, suppressing a tremble, left hand grabbing your right arm to ground yourself. You swallow to moisten your mouth. You can’t keep doing this. You can’t.

“W-well, going back to our con-conversation,” changing the subject for your own mental well-being, you decide to humor her some more. “We’re close. Or, were, at least.” 

“‘Were’?”

“There were some complications during the engagement… but that’s to be expected. Probably. But I plan on writing to my brother later today - oh!” 

You have an epiphany, clapping your hands together once. While it’s true, or at least you assume so, that Grizelda isn’t close with Jeremy, it might be better than nothing. After all, it’s an excuse to not go back to Dion -

Ah, but wait. Didn’t you want to go back to his room so you wouldn’t run into Fontaine again? Indecisive, you stop walking, thinking about your next move.

You should pick out a thank you gift for the boy… but Fontaine… not to mention you had also asked Hana… what to do, what to do…

While you’re stuck in your head, the brunette blinks, wondering what’s with the sudden change in behavior. 

- - -

He was too intense. Too forward. 

He should reel it back. Dion knows that he frightens you so easily. Like the fool he is, he thought that becoming and calling himself your dog would help take the edge off. Well, he was wrong, extremely so.

So wrong that he drove you away further, making the cracks of your marriage bigger, deeper. At this rate he may invertedly drive you away into the arms of another.

His eyes narrow at the thought. 

No. He’d kill the bastard before that could happen, and despite his fondness for you, he wouldn’t let you get off easy either. If you want to be with someone else so badly… he could give you their head. Or, depending on his mood, the intensity of your feelings for the second party, he could even kill them in front of you…

If you try to run he’ll just chain you up. He would never hurt you, no, but if the ring isn’t enough to tie you down, then he’ll do it quite literally. The rational part of him knows that you wouldn’t even dream of it. Be it out of fear or obligation as his wife, you wouldn’t.

But… What if you find a way to escape? Find someone else, someone better - 

No. 

His crimson eyes look out into the terrace as he sits in the chair, elbow propped onto the armrest, head supported by his hand, knuckles pressed against his cheek as his fingers curl. One leg is crossed over the other, his other arm resting on the opposite armrest, leaning back a bit. 

His finger taps against the plush material. 

It’s been half an hour since you left - half an hour too long. Did you go outside and take a walk? The sun is out, the weather is fine. Fresh air would probably help your nerves.

Unfortunately, he knows they’ll freeze over the moment you see him. 

It’s a silly dream he has, but it’s the only thing he truly looks forward to. Even if you fake it, he’ll be happy with any crumbs you’ll throw his way. However, he knows that he doesn’t deserve it, and a long time ago he would have seen no use in anything sweet and gentle. 

But then you came along. You with your soft touch, your pretty smile, eyes that reflected a rather sullen figure, sweetly asking for a favor that’s been forgotten. 

Your mistake was giving him a taste.

As the saying goes - give them an inch and they’ll take a mile.

He’s always been selfish and greedy. More so ever since you entered the picture. 

Hah. Just thinking about you brings forth warmth that was once nonexistent. It ignites the temptation to put you under lock and key. He’ll never tell you, but he did consider kidnapping you. It would have been so easy, a hand over your mouth, or a drug in your system.

He closes his eyes as he wills the thoughts away. Sure, had he done that, you wouldn’t be able to look at another, locked in his room with only him as company. You would have to either talk to him or play the quiet game, but really, how long would you last?

Humans were social creatures. They need company, bonds, no matter how shallow. 

You were no exception, talking to friends at balls and banquets. Laughing with them, accepting dances here and there, not minding the fact that a hand was on your waist. If anything, sometimes you would let the pests get too close, only shooing them off once you realize that their dirty paws were traveling lower and lower. 

He sighs through his nose softly. Thinking about such things won’t help in the long run. In spite of the way he wants to pluck out the eyes of anyone who looks at you, who you smile at, your husband tries to take a… ‘softer’ approach.

Throwing them in the dungeon for a week or two without food. Putting them in the least aggressive monster hutch, but the beasts are still hungry, so it was still dangerous. A broken bone or two during practice. 

Maybe ten.

A ‘small’ cut to their pay. A singular verbal threat before they turn physical. Humiliation. Ruin their reputation.

That was soft enough, wasn’t it?

“...” you really have been gone for longer than wanted - needed. 

Isn’t this what ‘love’ is; a man barking like a dog for his wife? Rolling over and showing their belly, toning down their antics the slightest bit. Listen to them, handing their spouse their leash, willing to do anything?

Bite those who come too close.

Dion’s scarlet hues open, looking at nothing in particular. His black hair shines in the light, pale skin crawling at the thought of someone happening to come across you. Shared laughter, a smile, sweet gestures, all things that he craves from you and you alone. 

Everything you refuse to give him.

You drive each other mad.

A foolish daydream that starts to dive into something darker. It’s here when Dion starts to remember just where the two of you live. Your in-laws, his family. The food chain that you’re almost at the bottom in, your status as his wife saving you from most. 

Most of his half-siblings and all of his stepmothers will avoid you just because of that, or they’ll sneer at you from a distance. 

However, there are some who won’t stay behind the line. Jeremy is an example - however, his intentions were never sinister towards you. Roxana was edging around the line, and he already knows she’s gauging on how close she should get to you, but she wouldn’t let harm come to you.

But then, there’s Fontaine.   

He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing.

- - -

“...Hey, Xana?”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel like something bad will happen today?”

“What do you mean?”

Jeremy shivers again, rubbing his arms. This chill just won’t go away. It’s annoying, he’s been unable to shake off this paranoia. It revolved around you, at first. So, the boy had decided to pay you a visit once he heard you returned to your room. 

You were fine, tired, but fine. Unfortunately, Dion decided to show up like the pest he is - sticking around. It’s as annoying as when he would bother Roxana in the past. Or just appear in front of her. 

However, he didn’t sense anything wrong. Discomfort, sure, but nothing dangerous. He left in the end, getting in one last glare at his older brother. The feeling went away, for a bit. 

But it spiked right back up not too long after. Stronger. And now, Dion and Fontaine keep popping up in his head, their ugly mugs haunting him. Jeremy looks at Roxana, her gaze glued to his figure. He smiles, shaking everything off.

Maybe he’s tired. 

“Oh well. It’s probably nothing, sis.”

= = =

Something big might happen.

This took way longer than I originally thought.

Tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @queenofspades403 @pix-stuff @manitscold @darkumbreon92 @s-ajia @disappointment-san @louissatturi @cjafjatkstke @luvercat @rainofcrime @danae-misfortune @rosedellamorte @rentaldarling @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee @labryel

[wolfpants]

my year in fic: 2024!

Thank you so much for tagging me @sitp-recs! I loved putting this little roundup together. I struggled a bit this year, creatively - I think because I had such a massive output in 2023 (226k words 😱) I was going through burnout and also feeling like I couldn't quite live up to the longfics I had posted the previous year. But putting this together, and realising I've written 120k words, I'm actually really surprised - and happy! I've done a real mix of pairings, too.

I look forward to 2025 - I'm planning to take part in Kinkuary again, and I have a few other projects up my sleeve including my first Drarry (long) 8th year fic, a collab, and a follow-up fic to a Drarry I've already published. I'm determined to go into next year with a clear and positive head and continue to stick to writing (and sharing!) what I love!

Much love to you all - wishing you all a fabulous festive season! No pressure tagging @getawayfox @tackytigerfic @maesterchill @houndsinhades @the-invisibility-bloke @toomuchplor @citrusses @skeptiquewrites @hoko-onchi-writes and anyone else who wants to share their 2024 wrapped!

-

Drarry

🌟 All Is Calm, All Is Bright | E, 7k | Drarry

Tags: infidelity, Christmas markets, photographer Harry, angst and feels, pining

“Ernie and I are getting a divorce,” Draco says. A stone drops heavily in the pit of Harry’s stomach. He startles. Draco nods. He lifts his mug to his lips and sinks the contents. “Yes,” he says, his voice tight. 

🌺 Come In, the Water's Lovely | E, 4k | Drarry

Tags: established relationship smut, showering/bathing/swimming, tent sex

Harry laughs against Draco’s wet, soap-sweet skin and lets his hands fall to his waist. He steals another soft kiss. “Want me to help with that? Reviews say I’m not very clinical at all. I’m positively… extravagant.” Draco bends his head forward again and nips Harry’s lip, then soothes it with a slow swipe of his tongue. “A giver of deluxe wanks.”

🥂 How to Begin | E, 8k | Drarry

Tags: friends to lovers, drunk sex, second chances, mutual pining, they were roommates

“I think we owe it to ourselves to do it again properly,” Draco says smartly.

✈️ Long Haul | E, 9k | Drarry

Tags: mile high club, pining, flirting, mild d/s elements, competent draco

“So you’d risk plummeting us all to our deaths just to get filled? You slut,” Draco whispers.

😈 Raising Hell | E, 21k | Drarry

Tags: colleagues to lovers, case fic, occult, UST, exhibitionism, ritual sex

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do I put this delicately, Potter.” He shook his fringe from his face and sighed. “The initiation is sex. They want us to fuck. In front of all of them. It’s—what they do.”

-

Others

☕️ Come as You Are | E, 2k | Sirius/Ron

Tags: pwp, age gap (19/40), big dick Ron, blow jobs

Open up, he imagines Ron saying with that easy, casual dominance he exudes so beautifully, so he does, just in time for Ron’s mouth to meet his. 

🎶 In My Room | E, 21k | Dron

Tags: 8th year, angst and h/c, unhealthy coping mechanisms, no hea, first time

Draco rattles around in his brain for something to talk about, something beyond the immediate obvious—we are lying in bed together, we are spooning, you are shirtless, you are holding my hand, my chest feels like it’s on fire, my head is as light as air, do you feel it too? I will die if I get hard, I might die if you change your mind about me.

🚗 A Light That Never Goes Out | E, 6k | Sirry/Draco

Tags: Sirius returns, timey wimey, road trips, hotel room hookup, threesome

Sirius’s fingers twitch around his glass. The pleasure looming in the pit of his belly at seeing Harry so happy and turned on isn’t quite enough to stem the niggling sense of envy and outsiderness he feels. Harry and Draco’s careful pleasantries melt away into something more familiar, something they’re both clearly equally relieved to pick up after, apparently, a good few years of not being in one another’s orbit.

❅ Snowdrift | E, 9k | Dronarry

Tags: married dron, threesome, domesticity, drarry pining

“Is this what you wanted?” Ron asks, turning his attention back to Harry, daring to ask the question that’s been floating in the back of his mind since the moment Harry stepped through the front door; maybe since the moment Harry’s text landed in the group chat.

🚙 Spellbound & Acheron | E, 7k (total) | Dralbus

Tags: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, watersports, virginity kink, power imbalance, age gap

Albus hears the click of a seatbelt. His nose fills with the smell of cloves and cedar—Mr Malfoy’s cologne, his shampoo, the scent that clings to his clothes and that Albus thinks about, persistently, because it is the scent that he has come to enjoy the most. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Leader of the Pack 1

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

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

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

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

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

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

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

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 

"Thank you," you squeak. 

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 

"You wanna break?" You ask. 

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 

"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 

"I'll break," Sy insists. 

"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 

“You’ve got another go,” James says. 

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real. 

[nocasdatsgay]

So Where Do I Start?

Pairing: Eris x F-Reader | Rating: E 🌶️| Eris POV

Word count: 2256 | one-shot | Read on Ao3

Summary: You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

CW: an off screen baby, post baby body, insecurities, sex

A/N: I’ve never had a baby but I do have body issues 😂 there is also a part where Eris thinks about how much he basically missed the intimacy- don’t misconstrue it as him needing sex. I worried when I wrote that. If enough ppl like it I’ll post it on ao3 🫣 I put it on ao3

No tag list for this one cause I don’t want to subject ppl to baby content if they don’t want it 🫣

Eris had been flirting with you all day. You’d asked around lunch what had gotten into him and honestly he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it was the fact you’d both gotten decent sleep, your babe finally being at a point where they could sleep through the night. Maybe it was the fact things had slowed down for him, having finally caught up with paperwork and meetings now that he’d returned to focusing on high lord duties after the weeks spent helping with the baby.

Or maybe he just loved you. Which was nothing new.

Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

“That I do,” you muttered and scooted over to him so you could cuddle until you both fell asleep.

[silly4seojun]

seo-jun when he’s drunk

content tags: han seo-jun x reader, female reader, established relationship, intoxicated seo-jun, mentions being lifted up, all lowercase intended

author’s note: sorry for the serious lack of posting, writing has been tough recently :(

———

drunk seo-jun, who is a complete light weight. he cannot handle his alcohol at all. all it takes for him to be slurring his words is 3 shots of soju.

drunk seo-jun, who will somehow manage to get a score above 90 at karaoke. he has the most proud look on his face, “do i get a kiss for winning?” *hiccup* “only if you have some water first.”

drunk seo-jun, who may be good at karaoke but is horrendous at drinking games. he’s the type to be over confident and snarky until he loses. he’ll pout and skull the losing drink, wincing at the taste of all the different alcohol mixed together.

drunk seo-jun, who denies he’s drunk when you try to take the shot of soju he has away from him. “‘m fine, ‘m not drunk. i pinky swear.”

drunk seo-jun, who’s face (and neck) is completely flushed pink from the alcohol. he strips off his jacket complaining about how hot he is, but when you start to fan him in an attempt to cool him down he can’t help but laugh at how cute you are.

drunk seo-jun, who is super touchy-feely & clingy. he will be playing with your fingers and twirling strands of your hair with the most dopey smile you’ll ever see.

drunk seo-jun, who will confess his feelings for you as if you aren’t already dating. “ou’re the prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen—i love you so much.”

drunk seo-jun, who poses whenever he notices you taking a photo of him and photo bombs any selfies you take. “‘his one’s cute, send it to me.” he’ll proceed to set it as his lock screen wallpaper.

drunk seo-jun, who looks at you with the same soft smile that makes your resolve melt. all of his friends tease him but he just shrugs it off with a grin, “have you seen her? ‘m so lucky.”

drunk seo-jun, who may be completely wasted but still manages to make sure no one hits on you. he’ll keep a protective arm around you at all times, a deep scowl etching itself onto his face when he notices some creep attempting to make a pass at you.

drunk seo-jun, who wants to make out with you non stop. you have to constantly remind him that you’re still in public, “babe, gimme a kiss.” he’ll ask and then say, “one’s not enough, gimme some more.” while holding you in his arms, keeping you from slipping out off his grasp.

drunk seo-jun, who finds everything funny. he can’t stop himself from laughing until tears start to form at the corners of his eyes.

drunk seo-jun, who gets shy if you start to get flirty with him even if he’s the one who’s been making moves on you all night.

drunk seo-jun, who loves picking you up and having you in his arms. you have to bribe him to get him to put you down and even then it doesn’t always work.

drunk seo-jun, who lives for gossip when he can barely see straight. he’ll quietly sit next to you with wide eyes as you spill on all the drama you’ve been told. he will gasp dramatically when you finally tell him, “so that’s why that happened.”

drunk seo-jun, who craves ramen on the way home and makes you stop at a convenience store so he can have a snack. “c’mon, please baby. i really, really need some ramen right now.” when he finally gets some, he would give you the first bite just so he can watch the way your expression lights up because of how delicious it is.

drunk seo-jun, who will sit as still as he can (wobbling side to side) as you help him get ready for bed. his eyes are closed as you cleanse his skin for him, he’ll tell you just how much he likes this. “your hands feel s’good~,”

drunk seo-jun, who gets really nauseous after his drinks and has to go outside for some cold air to clear his head. needs you to pat his back while whispering sweet-nothings to feel better.

drunk seo-jun, who has a massive hangover the morning after and thanks you with a flutter of kisses when you bring him breakfast in bed.