#I didn't want to share this until it was fully done

[zm-deragis]

Okay, time for more Owl House posting

Behold

A Luz!

My King figurine is a resin cast of a clay sculpture. But the clay didn't want to play nice with Luz's smaller features, like her eyelashes or fingers. So, I picked up a different medium: Digital modelling. This is actually the first full character I've ever made digitally. It was a learning experience.

And yes

That includes rudimentary rigging.

The clothes are also modular, so I can even make different outfits later!

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

What the fuck it cut off my tags, whatever

I do deserve a treat :( Thank you <3

sorry for ranting, also sorry half the rant was cut off

this is the single worst way i've ever read to describe an erection, frank herbert

[kyloxox]

wade wilson x reader x logan howlett

warnings: threesome, double p, no condom, hairpulling, rough, anal, creampie, facial

"He's not going to come in." You whispered in Logan's ear. Logan wanted to protest but your breath on his sensitive skin caused him to force out a breathy sign.

Logan almost felt ashamed at how much of an effect you had on him but he didn't care. It made him hard when you would so obviously brush your ass against his crotch. It made him hard when he saw you stab Wade in the shoulder in the Honda odsessy. It even made him fucking hard and feel pathetic at the same time when you asked him to push on his suit with the sleeves shredded off. And he complied which led you to this moment of you straddling him on Wade's couch.

"He could and he will never let me live this down." He said in his accent. You stood up from him and pull off your shirt revealing your breasts to him. Now you were fully nude in front of him and before you could even say anything he fell to his knees and pulled you closer to him by your thighs until your cunt was placed on his lips.

"Fuck Lo-" He started to lap feverishly at your cunt and you grabbed onto his hair to stabilize him and yourself. Both you and Logan were so entranced in the act you didn't realize another person had joined the room.

"My, my, my what do we have here?" You screamed and jumped as the voice of Wade filled the room. As you jumped you moved slightly out of Logan's grip, thinking he'd stop but he doesn't. He grabs you again and puts you closer to his mouth. "You guys both know that his bathroom is right there." Wade walks from the back of you to your front, seeing you fully exposed. "Like right there." He points to Logan's bedroom in their shared apartment. "What did our fight in the Honda mean nothing guys?"

"Don't act like you haven't done it in worse places." You respond.

"Get lost or actually do something useful asshole." Logan grumbles.

"Well if the old man insists." Wade moves around so his already hard crotch is aligned with your exposed ass. He then talks his gloved hands and reaches around the touch your tits. You moan out as your sensitive nipples catch on the rough material.

"Y'know wolfie, I think this was her plan all along." Wade announces and Logan pulls back. You whine as he stands before you and now you're is a sandwich between the two muscular and tall men.

"Probably, she's such a fucking slut. First time we fucked she begged me not to wear a condom." You dripped recalling the memory so fondly, but Logan acts like it didn't take that much convincing on his side.

"Dude she begged me to fuck her ass." Your eyes go wide as Wade reveals your secret that you'd be fucking him alongside Logan. Logan grows jealous and grabs your chin, and forces you to look at him.

"Huh funny you made it seem like that part of your body was off limits."

"W-" You're about to say something before Logan stops you.

"Ah, ah, ah, good girls don't speak. Now I'm going to claim what is rightly mine. My dick will make your little asshole forget about this scumbag's dick in the first inch inside." He shoves you from in front of Wade so you are bent over the couch. "Do what you want with her but don't get in the way of me."

"Alright Mr.Picky Pants."

Logan roughly pulls himself out of his suit so he is still in it but his cock is fully exposed. Wade admires it and starts to pull his out, stroking it to Logan and yourself. Logan spits on his cock and then takes his fingers and collects the wetness. He moves his fingers up so he can lubricate your tight hole.

"Now be a good girl, and stay still while you take it." He pulls you up by your hair so your back is against your chest "And don't act like a fucking virgin because I now know you aren't one." He lets go of your hair. He starts to push himself slowly inside you. He grabs you once again so your head is against his chest and he can whisper in your ear. "Fucking feel every inch inside of you." You moan out as he goes deeper, deeper, and deeper.

"Fuck Logan."

Wade hasn't moved any muscle in his body except his arm. It's like he's watching his favorite porn in real life. He moves closer to you.

"Wolfie you think you could ugh, release this." Wade grabs Logan's hand that's on your hair and roughly detaches the two. "Think this mouth needs to be occupied." Wade pulls you down so you are eye to eye with this hard and wet cock. You waste no time putting it in your mouth. "Fuck that's it." He moans behind his mask, grabbing your hair. Both men use you to their pleasure and your cunt is wet with it.

Logan becomes more forgiving and as he's close to his release, he moves his finger down to play with your clit. You moan into Wade's cock.

"I want you to come when I come, y/n." Logan grunts out.

"Hey l'm like three steps behind you guys." Wade complains.

"I don't care." Logan roughly responds. "I'm close so you're either coming with me or not coming at all y/n."

"Come in me, I'm so close Logan please."

"Alright fine I'll join you guys too since you seem so excited about it." Wade sarcastically says.

Your wave builds up and up, until you feel your orgasm crach into your body. After you feel the intensity of your own orgasm, you feel full in both your ass and your ass. In the midst of your orgasm, Logan came inside you and Wade came on you.

You all crashed on the couch, all being obviously tired. You grabbed the blanket next to you and wiped off the come. It was silent except for the heavy pants and Wade's voice.

"Shawarma anyone?"

[sagi-tori-ous]

Simon sighs, his left hand coming up to press against his anguish ridden face. He had just gotten off the phone with work and it was expressed that they needed him there earlier than his allotted time.

He knew you wouldn't take the news well, early mornings were your favorite time to spend with him. Simon wasn't an early bird like you even though his profession called for punctuality. He loved the bed you'd share, snuggling up to you till his alarm shrieked through the master bedroom, every so often tempting him to throw it afar without care. Nevertheless, he knew what mornings meant to you. There was always a reason why he dragged himself out of bed an hour, almost two before he had to leave the house. There was an obligation, one where he had to sit at the round oak table with you perched on his lap, your surroundings smothered in the scent of the steaming cooked breakfast and freshly brewed tea you prepared, faithfully.

"fuck me," he groans, dragging himself around the spacious bedroom, begrudgingly getting ready for the day, "s'gonna be so mad."

Simon could hear the faint pitter-patter of your feet as you danced around the kitchen, fretting over what you should cook today for the both of you.

"Baby!" You call out, looking through the ingredients, "Pancakes and bacon? How bout it?" The thought was a bit mouthwatering, there weren't many things at the moment better to you than some syrup-covered buttermilk pancakes and crispy bacon.

"y'know I'm fine with it." Simon calls back, fastening his attire promptly, "Everything you make is delicious." His attempt to butter you up.

Which doesn't fall flat— you soak it up as if you were just like the pancakes you were preparing, dubious as ever to what was in store for your morning. You noted that the tone of his voice was preppier, more awake than usual. You briefly questioned why he even was fully awake, seeing as you were usually the one to drag him out of bed in the morning. Literally.

Simon, still dwelling in the bedroom, shakes his head, stumped on how to go about this, in a way wanting to just slide out of the front door and ultimately deal with the consequences later but that'd be too rude. Too disrespectful.

"Love," Simon calls out to you, the combat boots strapped to his feet sounding thunderous as he finally rounds the corner into the quaint ivory plastered kitchen.

"yes," you sing, your mouth upturns into a small smile, "I'm actually almost done. I had already made the dry mix, remember before that recipe I found, I just had to add the eggs and but-" Your sentence falters as you gaze up at Simon, eyes going up and down taking in his wear, you weren't a fool and picked up on the circumstances quickly.

The pout that pulled your lips down was instantaneous. "No."

Simon steps towards you, "I know love, they just called me. There s'nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

"mornings are for us." You whine— you didn't want him to go. You wanted to finish cooking and take your rightful seat in his lap while you fed both of you breakfast. You wanted his heavy head to lay on your shoulder, leaning up occasionally to nibble on the bites of food that you pressed to his lips. You wanted his muscular arms to wrap around you, holding you tight against his broad frame as you babbled about any and everything. You wanted that every morning and wouldn't be subjected to change.

"I know," Simon repeats, attempting to move closer to you but the attempt was futile. You blew air into your cheeks, slightly puffing them as you turned back to the stove. "the food." you grumble.

Yes, you knew what Simon's job consisted of, you knew that it required of him to be available at times, even if they were inconvenient. Were you being unreasonable? Slightly. Could you see through your heedlessness? Not at the moment. You couldn't help but feel wronged like this was to spite you.

The silence lingered for some time until you broke it, "when do you have to leave?" you reluctantly ask, absentmindedly tapping the fluffy pancakes with your spatula.

"got'to be there by 6," Simon glances down at his wristwatch, "I should be out the door in the next 15 minutes." His gaze was swift to shift back to you, perturbed by your behavior.

Your shoulders hump, movements becoming a tad more aggressive, "Well guess I have to hurry." The comment is not as endearing as it seemed, there was a snarky nuance to it.

Simon wasn't oblivious to your attitude, he knew the little backhand comment was supposed to be a jab at him but the animosity didn't resonate. He found the slightest of amusement with your current demeanor. The almost undetectable smirk was amiss from your view since your back was to him. He found your displeasure the least bit adorable. Anger wasn't a reoccurring emotion for you, there was no familiarity but when you did encounter it, it could be misplaced at times.

You were upset and it showed easily; it was evident in your expressions, fluid in your movements. Regardless of how you felt, you still packed the heaping breakfast in his sack, and bottled up his piping hot tea, momentarily wishing for him to burn his tongue later on, before pushing his belongings into his hardened chest.

Your hands momentarily brushed against his pecs, recoiling from the touch as if he'd burnt you, dramatics in full effect until your wrists were clasped in one of his large worn hands, reeling you back into him.

"I'll be back," he reassures, looking down at you even though you refused to look up at him, " y'know this." His declaration falls on deaf ears, yet still, he pushes forward, inching his lips closer to your forehead to leave his standard kiss, "I always come back to you." He whispers, lips almost flush with your skin.

Before he can, you pull away, an action that shocks you both. It was unfamiliar to you both, upsetting in many ways but no more than the other.

"stop being a brat," Simon says, his eyes now hard, glaring "You've been playing this little game for too long. Enough." His gaze is unwavering as he once again inclines towards you, his pace treacherous, but to his displeasure you still deny his affection, pulling away from him, prompting him to snag your chin between his fingers, now forcing the eye contact.

"Keep on, y'know this is a game I can play really well."

Later that day...

"feels s'good," your voice whines, breath hitching ever so often from the stimulation Simon gave you. Your head is fuzzy from his calculated touches, eyes unfocused from the momentous pleasure, "m'gonna cum."

"like hell you are," he reproves, "keep those legs up."

Simon's right hand latches on to your thigh, applying a bit of pressure as he nestles between them. He fists his angry cock in his other hand, purposefully nudging your clothed cunt in the process. His movements were harsh, self seeking, paying no mind to your throbbing pussy as it drooled through the thin fabric of cloth that separated your bare flesh from his.

"brats like you don't get to cum." He condemns, his voice laced in the disappointment he felt, "don't deserve t'cum."

Your thighs trembled under his hold, "I do, I do." you cry, chest rapidly rising as the knot in the pit of your stomach grows, begging to be undone. He was ruining you, he was showing you why certain games were too dangerous to play.

"but you don't," he grunts, he fucks his palm faster, crowning your aching clit. The hand that was on your thigh plants you, knowing as you try to roll your hips and meet the thrusts of his cock.

"please! please! Si!" You beg, tears threatening to fall, "mmm fuck-" His bottom lip slips between his teeth, he blatantly ignores your pleading, instead he focuses on his orgasm as his hot cum paints your cunt through the skimpy cloth. His touch is gone as soon as he's sated, leaving you high and dry.

"like I said, brats like you don't get to cum."

Press this 💨❄️❄️

[miserableworm]

Aphrodisiac!

★ sypnosis - giving him an aphrodisiac wasn't your best idea...

★ tags - childe x fem!reader, alhaitham x fem!reader, wriothesley x fem!reader, smut (mdni), aphrodisiac, established relationship, oral receiving, mentions of overstimulation, handcuffs, rough sex

CHILDE

Despite being under the influence of an aphrodisiac that would normally drive him to pleasure himself, something about you made him want nothing more than to please you instead.

"God you drive me insane..."

Your legs were spread wide open before him, invitingly wet and ready for his touch. He could feel your heat radiating off your body as he gazed at your dripping pussy; it was almost too much for him to bear!

But instead of diving right in like any normal man might do under these circumstances, When held back... teasingly soaking up every drop of moisture with his tongue while watching you squirm beneath him helplessly.

"Stop teasing me.." you whined

His hot breath fanned across your sensitive skin - enough to make it tingle but not quite enough stimulation yet... His hands gripped tightly onto your thighs as if locking them down so that no one else could come between them during this intimate moment shared only by the two of you...

And then finally – after what felt like an eternity – those delicious lips parted once more and plunged deep into the heart-shaped depths below…

"You taste so fucking good.."

It didn't take long before you had your first orgasm. "Aw my pretty baby is already cumming?"

"Oh but we're not done yet... you can take it, right?" He purred huskily against wet flesh before diving back in again without waiting for an answer.

He's completely pussy drunk.

ALHAITHAM

As Alhaitham's normally stoic demeanor began to slip away under the influence of an aphrodisiac, he found himself unable to resist your advances. Your every touch sent shivers down his spine and ignited a fire within him that he couldn't control.

You were like a siren calling to him, drawing him closer with each passing moment. He could feel the heat emanating from your body as you pressed yourself against him – it was intoxicating!

"Need you so bad..."

Despite his initial hesitation, Alhaitham gave in to his desires and took you roughly against the wall behind you... His hands gripped tightly onto your hips while he thrust deep inside of you over and over again... His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down both of your bodies.

"w-wait.. slow down.. I can't.. ah!"

"One more," he panted between kisses along your neckline before plunging deeper still into the depths below... "I know you can take more.." With each word spoken by this usually reserved man came another thrust from his hips - faster now than ever before.

You and Alhaitham were fully aware that 'one more' is just a lie...

WRIOTHESLEY

Wriothesley was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with an air of command that left no room for argument. As the aphrodisiac took hold and his normally stoic demeanor began to slip away, so too did any semblance of restraint.

He grabbed you roughly by the wrists and pulled you closer - handcuffs clinking softly as they secured your hands behind your back. His lips crashed down onto yours in a fierce kiss that left no doubt as to who was in charge here tonight...

His hands roamed freely over every inch of exposed skin while his hips ground against yours – teasingly close yet never quite connecting fully until finally... With one powerful thrust forward, Wriothesley buried himself deep inside of you

"you feel me in you?" he pressed down onto the bulge on your stomach. "t-too much ngh.."

"isn't this what you wanted? no turning back now. You're mine tonight," Wriothesley growled into your ear as he roughly pulled you closer by the wrists. "And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

His rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you without mercy or hesitation...

[bbokicidal]

"Are You Serious...?" - Angst! [Maknae Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - explicit warning for Han's scenario; Sexual talk, TMI, he shares information about your sex life with others. Warning for Felix's scenario; weight discussion, judgement. Warning for Jeongin's scenario; Physical contact (shoving, nudging, etc.), signs of disgust

Hyung Line | Part 2 Here

Han - Oversharing

"You should've seen it. It was so wet." Jisung had fully turned his body in his dining chair to face Seungmin beside him. The younger of the two was listening to Jisung go on about something that had happened the night before; Something that was sexual and involved you.

And judging by the way Seungmin's chewing slowed gradually and his eyes flickered around the table to see if anyone else was listening, he was growing uncomfortable with hearing so much information about his friend and his partner.

"Jisung," You reach to place a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, catching the way Seungmin seemed to eye the others in a silent plea for help out of the conversation. "That's enough, baby. I don't think he cares to hear about our sex life." You laugh, trying to brush it off.

But he keeps talking. "She made a mess everywhere, Min. It was like those videos where the girls --"

"Jisung!" You snap this time, pulling on his shoulder until he turns to face you. His eyes widen and he stares, completely unaware he'd done anything wrong.

"What..?" He peeps, watching as you scoff in frustration and lean down to grab your purse from the ground. He turns further to face you, a few of the others quieting down as they watch you stand and nearly knock over your wine glass.

You tremble in both agitation and humiliation, pulling your bag over your shoulder before turning to walk away. "Get a fucking cab home, I'm leaving."

Felix - Ordering food for you / Controlling your diet

"Thank you," You beam at the delivery man, gently shutting and locking your apartment door to make your way back to Felix on the sofa. It's only moments before the coffee table is filled with food - two waters, a few packets of dressing, and two... salads.

Your look of confusion doesn't escape Felix but he doesn't speak up on it, popping the lid off his salad container and reaching to empty a dressing packet over top of the greens. He stirs it around as he watches you reach for the other, pulling it closer and opening it carefully so nothing spilled. "I thought we said yesterday we were going to order Tteokboki and.. -- Are you sure you ordered from the right place?"

"Mm." Felix nods, mouth full as he watches you. You spare him a glance before sitting up a bit as he swallows and speaks again. "I'm on a diet, sweetheart. There's things I can and cannot eat right now."

"Okay," You nod slowly. "I understand that, and I understand it's for your job but - I didn't... agree to this..?" You murmur, hoping it doesn't come off as disrespectful. He'd been the one to place the order and pay for it, and you appreciated that - you really did. But he hadn't said anything about what he'd ordered earlier; Hadn't bothered to mention he was dieting or deciding to order from a different place.

He blinks once, then twice, as if processing that you were unhappy. "Felix, I'm -- I respect your diet. I really do." You lift your hands as if surrendering, then gesture to yourself by placing both hands on your chest. "But you could've told me you were ordering this and I could've just told you what I wanted. I don't need to diet."

Felix's chewing slows as he listens. He's staring, gaze unwavering, very intently listening. He nods, then hums as if in thought, before his eyes slowly wander down over your form sitting beside him. When he looks back up and doesn't care to agree with you or offer a soft apology, you feel the humiliation sticking in your gut.

Your lips part and you stare, unsure of what to say after he'd just silently judged you moments ago. You stand from your spot and slip into a pair of shoes at the door, grabbing your keys off of a hook.

He stares, posture straightening. "Where are you going?"

You look back, opening the door. "Down to the cafe. I'm getting myself a treat - because I didn't deserve whatever the fuck that just was." The door swing shut behind you, leaving Felix sitting alone in silence with his sad little salad.

Seungmin - Being Evasive / Not Responding

"Seungmin."

Your boyfriend blinks down at his phone for the umteenth time since you've started watching him in disbelief.

"Seungmin!"

"What-?!" He barks back this time, dropping his hands in his lap and staring over at you. His lips are parted and he's tonguing at the inside of his cheek, annoyance written all over his face. "What? Why are you yelling?"

"I asked you twice what we were doing later. Are the boys still coming over or are we all going out?"

In the ten seconds it took you to get that question out, he'd lifted his phone back up and blocked out every word that escaped your mouth. Whatever he was doing was obviously more important. He sits quiet, doesn't give you any answer, and stares down at his screen without caring to spare you a glance.

"Kim Seungmin." You stare, fully turning in your seat to make sure he knows you're giving him your full attention. "Would you please answer me?"

He stays silent where he sits, tapping away at the screen. And you know from previous arguments like this he's likely texting Jeongin about his frustrations with you. He only looks up when he hears a soft sniffle, met with the sight of you wiping your reddened face with your sleeve. "Why are you crying now?"

You stifle a sob and turn away, tucking your hair back to keep your face clean. "Because you never fucking answer me. You make me feel like I don't matter to you and all you care about is who you're texting on your phone."

"Jesus Christ," His eyes roll as he stands from his seat, tucking his phone into his back pocket and walking down the hall. "I don't like talking to you because you act like a baby. Grow up." The bedroom door shuts firm behind him and it leaves you sitting alone at the table, sniffling as you text Chan in attempts to get an answer on the plans later.

Jeongin - Physically pushing you away

It's no secret Jeongin doesn't like skinship unless it's under certain circumstances; Usually only when someone is under distress and needs to be comforted. But being his girlfriend, you thought you could slowly ease him into being more comfortable with you and physical intimacy.

Yet even a full year into the relationship, you can't get Jeongin to give you a simple hug before he leaves for a week to Japan - or a kiss on the cheek when you bid him farewell in early morning hours to go to work. You're lucky if he touches you at all actually.

And it gets worse when he begins to actually show irritation. Your soft attempts at affection were usually met with him laughing it off or just standing there as you hugged him or kissed his cheek. But recently, he'd begun to grow upset with your ongoing attempts.

He'd given you a gentle nudge the last few days to show he didn't want you near. First it was when you'd sat too close on the couch and he'd bumped his elbow into your side to get you to scoot away; Then when you'd side hugged him before he left for work and he'd nudged you off of him as he grabbed his jacket.

Today, he'd pushed you. You understood if he was frustrated and you understood he didn't like the physical contact, but all you'd done was brushed against him to reach into the cupboard. You hadn't mean to come close and hug him or kiss him, you were trying to just make dinner. But he'd been standing there, and the ongoing attempts at affection had boiled over into anger, and he'd shoved you.

His hand laid on your side and he pushed you back hard enough to make you stumble, shoulder bumping the fridge as you turn to look at him in surprise. "Jeongin--?"

"Would you back off?" He bites, eyes narrowed into a glare as he stares you down, standing in front of the stove. "I told you a million times, I don't like being touched so just drop it and quit trying to rub up against me every fucking chance you get. You're being clingy and I can't stand it."

"I wasn't trying to," You breathe, stumbling over your words as you register that he'd actually pushed you away from him.

"You try to every waking moment of every fucking day!" He snaps again. You aren't sure what had pushed him to grow so angry but he'd never yelled at you like this and you were 100% certain you never wanted him to again. So you step back and pivot, beelining for the bedroom to get some space between the two of you. Tears form and your thoughts jumble in your head, pondering on if it would be best to excuse yourself from the relationship now - or give it some time.

[ssahotchnerr]

Aaron having to bring his daughter with him to work for whatever reason? She’s tiny enough to not be running around and mainly just sleep on his chest all day. It’s fall outside and she’s in a warm teddy bear outfit so it’s literally like a stuffed animal on his chest as he works. She wouldn’t remember anything she saw in files but he makes sure her head is never near anything bad. Makes his heart warm and happy when the others realize that she’s there and coo over her and the outfit. Penelope takes pictures of them to send to you too 😭🖤

soak it in

i'm going to CRY cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, small foyet reference

aaron's entrance into the bullpen piqued the interest of several, as it was different from any other, usual morning. not only was his briefcase in hand, but also a carseat, and a diaper bag was slung proudly over his shoulder. there were smiles from the team, some small nudges to look amongst the other units, as today's visitor was easily welcomed.

during breakfast, you had been notified your dentist appointment had been moved up, due to the office closing earlier within the day for whatever reason. with such short notice and jessica being unavailable, aaron was the obvious solution, and your daughter came to work with him - until you were done running a few errands and could drop by to retrieve her.

for the meantime - as she was there - aaron opted to work strictly on the no-pictures-included files. while she was never in close proximity to a file regardless, and today's onesie's hood happened to shield her eyes, and her little mind wouldn't process or remember anything - aaron didn't want to take any chances. he yearned to keep his daughter as far away from that, all the horrors the world possessed, for as long as he possibly could. jack had gained the knowledge - that monsters were real, just in human form - sooner than he would have liked. sadly.

currently baby girl was tucked into his chest, her right cheek smushed against him. she dozed off not too long ago; she had gotten a bit antsy and luckily his swivel desk chair allowed him to slowly rock her as he worked, in addition to soothingly shushing her, whispering that it's okay; ultimately calming her down. her little fingers found a near death grip on his shirt, clinging onto him as she slept.

when he had felt the pull of fabric, he gazed down and couldn't help but smile. aaron also took a moment, to soak it all in. the window of time where this was possible, was limited; her against his chest, small enough to be cradled in one arm, quiet and secure in the comfort of his office. all in too fast progression would aaron blink, and she would be way more interested in exploring and bouncing off the walls.

the thought immediately snapped his heart into two. if only she could stay that tiny, forever.

as he wrote, flipped a page, switched files, aaron was extremely careful to his movements. he tried not to rustle her, despite her being comfortably laid in his not-preoccupied-by-writing arm.

the sudden creak of his door lifts his eyes, penelope entering. the quietest of aw’s leaves her as she approaches, with an extra spring in her step at the sight before her. in addition, she doesn't hesitate to whisk out her phone.

"i didn't know this cutie was here today." the words leave her in a gentle, yet high, pitched tone, giddiness laced within. her jaw fully drops as she catches sight of the cozy onesie the littlest hotchner inhabits, "oh my god look at her outfit!"

“garcia.” aaron lightly warns as her volume heightens, his eyes flicking back up to her from his paperwork, his pen slowing.

“i know sorry sorry, i just neeeed to share the cuteness with the mrs.," penelope grins, aiming her camera at baby girl, and aaron, snapping a few pictures. "this is just, too dang adorable. she needs a copy, i need a copy, and i'll make you a copy too, sir."

that tugs aaron's lips into a smile, a small chuckle leaving him. "she's cute, huh?"

"um hello? cute doesn't even begin to cover it. please tell me you're the one who dressed her today. if yes, i might have to scream. just might."

"not today." aaron admitted, dropping his pen and fixing the small hood, which had fallen a bit too much in front of baby girl's face. again, his lips couldn’t help but pull into a smile. god, he loved being a girl dad, and a dad in general. "but, i may have picked it out."

"i was right. i'm going to scream." quick to realize what she said, penelope held out her hands in defense - before aaron even had the opportunity to open his mouth - clarifying with wide eyes. "internally! i'm screaming internally."

aaron took a slight pause, before speaking. “actually, about the copies - ”

penelope’s shoulders dropped in defeat, her lips pulling to the side - an equivalent to an ‘eek’. “was i too enthusiastic?”

“on the contrary,” aaron’s expression softened, laughing gently as to again, not rouse baby girl. “would you mind bringing me two? i’ll need one for in here, and for my wallet.”

[bunnysbrainrot]

Size Matters

Kinktober Prompt: Size kink

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)

Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.

A/N: 🤭

"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.

A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.

You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."

He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.

"You know you can ask us for help, right?"

"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"

Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."

You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.

"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.

He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...

You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.

Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.

At least, after he's done with you.

"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.

He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.

You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.

"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.

"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.

Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.

Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.

Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.

“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”

He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.

“What about dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”

He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.

Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.

Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.

A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.

The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”

The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.

“My bedroom,” he said plainly.

—

There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.

Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.

There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.

But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.

The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.

Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."

You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.

Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.

You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.

Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.

Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.

Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.

As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.

"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."

The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.

Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.

The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.

"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.

He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.

Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.

"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.

Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.

His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."

The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.

Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.

"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.

With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.

"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.

He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.

The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.

That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.

Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.

The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.

"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.

You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.

The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.

"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.

You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.

His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.

He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."

Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.

You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.

At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.

There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.

He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.

"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.

You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."

He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"

A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.

"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.

Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.

A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"

Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.

Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.

He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.

"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.

You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.

His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.

"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."

The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.

"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.

He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."

Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.

Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"

A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.

"Who's pussy is this?"

The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."

He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."

Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.

"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."

The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.

He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.

Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."

You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.

"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."

His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.

"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.

You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"

Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."

Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.

"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."

You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."

He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.

Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!

If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???

anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3

[dalishious]

Lucanis and Family

House Dellamorte is so gloriously messy. You don’t get to achieve and keep the seat of First Talon without getting your hands dirty…. and unfortunately, without a great deal of loss.

Caterina

Caterina Dellamorte had five children and eight grandchildren. Lucanis’s mother was her favourite; she gave his mother her opal ring as a show of that favour. But House Velardo killed Lucanis’s parents and sent the ring back to Caterina to demand she surrender the seat of First Talon. When she refused to submit, a war of succession broke out amongst the Crows. House Dellamorte remained First Talon, but at great cost – the only surviving family Caterina had left was two of her grandchildren, Lucanis and Illario.

Lucanis says he and Illario lived in Villa Dellamorte with Caterina until they were eighteen. While he says they would have ended up under Caterina’s care regardless for training, they were taken in by her early after their parents were killed by House Velardo.

In the Tevinter Nights story, The Wigmaker Job, Lucanis reflects on the following:

“Memories of sweat-filled days without food or water came unbidden. Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his flesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master Assassin had since taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way of making sure that he was prepared for this life—that he survived.”

And if Rook is a Crow, they share this dialogue:

Rook: What was it like? Training under the First Talon?

Lucanis: What was your training like?

Rook: Torture.

Lucanis: There you go.

Rook: But you didn't resent her?

Lucanis: Not anymore.

Thus, it makes sense that in Lucanis’s mind prison, Spite describes Caterina as “tenderness and terror.” She is his grandmother, and he has always been her favourite, as he acknowledges. I do not doubt that she showed affection for him, but unfortunately it also came with cruelty.

While I do not wish to defend Caterina’s actions, I do think it is important to contextualize them with a reminder that she is a woman who lost her entire family. I really do believe that Lucanis is correct in his assessment that Caterina torturing her grandchildren was her way of making sure they would survive, where their parents did not. Because unfortunately, she is also someone who clearly cares about maintaining her power, and was not willing to sacrifice it for the good of her family’s wellbeing. She wanted to have both power and family, and Lucanis and Illario suffered for it.

Illario

I truly do have sympathy for Illario, despite all the terrible things he’s done.

First of all, remember that all Lucanis went through, Illario also went through. But unlike Lucanis, I don’t think Illario has ever really fully forgiven Caterina. In The Wigmaker Job, he comments, “All that effort training and grooming us, and the old woman still won’t step aside.” Illario doesn’t see the point of been groomed as he was, and doesn’t excuse Caterina like Lucanis does. Probably because no matter what, he’s always been treated as the lesser one.

The saddest thing about Illario though is, in my opinion, that the only way he would have ever actually gained Caterina’s respect is if he really did kill her. Lucanis says he believes as such to Emmrich in party banter. But he couldn’t even do that right. He’s such a fuck-up and I love him.

Lucanis

Lucanis’s mind prison offers more insight in how he sees Caterina… and himself.

When you approach Caterina in the mind prison, she is angry that Lucanis is an abomination, and Rook is able to observe that Lucanis fears he has disappointed her. Spite comments, “Old stale fear of disappointment.” As the favourite child of an abusive parent myself, I can tell you right now I really relate to this sentiment of thinking you need to be perfect in order to keep your favouritism, because they make you feel like you owe that to them.

When you approach Illario in the mind prison, the first thing Illario says is that Rook is too good to be wasting time with Lucanis. He also says that Lucanis will fill his mind prison with corpses. Because that’s how Lucanis has traditionally seen himself, I think; as someone who’s only importance is that he’s a good killer. It’s how Caterina raised him. But now that he’s had a taste of more with the Veilguard, he’s terrified to lose it. Spite says that there are three kinds of people: “Family. Enemies. Contracts.” But the Veilguard has shown Lucanis that he can have friends, too. (And potentially a lover if Rook romances him, or he gets with Neve.)

Average families can be complicated. Assassin families, apparently even more so. I think a crucial part of Lucanis’s character is that he values his family so strongly. He no longer resents Caterina for how she raised him and Illario. He is unwilling to kill Illario, even though Illario made it clear that he would not have spared Lucanis in return. Because they are cousins who were more like brothers, and that means something to Lucanis. After all, as one of the notes found in his mind prison says, “So few of us left…”

-----

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[cyberjam]

E!42 MILES DATING A SHY!SOFT READER . . . ☆

warnings - black fem!reader in mind but you can imagine it however you'd like, miles having a soft spot for you, pink coquette vibes from reader, profanity, slightly suggestive.

word count - 2.2k | lowercase intended.

main masterlist | proof read?: kinda😭

song rec for fic?: yo love - from "queen and slim: the soundtrack - vince staples, 6lack, mereba <3

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . HOW YOU FIRST MET . .

ఇ . . . you two were assigned as partners for a science project that would play a big part in your final grade. you knew of each other but never fully interacted until now.

ఇ . . . miles knew you as quiet, only speaking when spoken to. you were an approachable person with a warm smile. you carried yourself well, and treated others kindly, even if they were undeserving. he was entranced by you to say the least. with how things were currently going in new york, he was surprised that the city hadn't dimmed your light. miles wanted to know more about you and this project gave him the perfect opportunity to do so.

ఇ . . . you knew of miles as well. he had the reputation of being an unapproachable person. easily intimidating others without trying, and keeping his circle of people small. you took a small interest in him as well. you'd catch yourself glancing at him every now and then, trying to break down his character. he didn't seem as mean as everyone claimed but now was finally your chance to see for yourself.

ఇ . . . that project was only the beginning of your and miles' relationship.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . CRUSHING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . miles protectiveness increases the more your relationship grows. he'll cut into situations and defend you before you can fully form a thought. he never hesitates to step in-front of you as a human-shield and tell someone off with a simple phrase.

"ay, watch yo mouth." | "huh? repeat yo'self." | "i know you not talkin'-"

ఇ . . . he starts eating lunch with you. his friends get on him for being a simp but he brushes it off every-time. he enjoys the convos you two have during lunch and would rather sit next to you than a rowdy group of boys who use the lunch food as science experiments.

ఇ . . . he seeks you out. during school, after school, on his nightly patrols, etc. without even fully knowing it himself, miles is always looking for you no matter where he is. he just naturally gravitates towards you. you bring something to miles life that he hasn't had in a long time. peace.

ఇ . . . let's you mess with his hair. when he's over your place he'll let you put your cute baby pink hair clips in his braids and even tie in some hair bo-bo's at the end of them. but only if you take them out as soon as you're done and don't take any pictures. (you still take pictures)

ఇ . . . let's you draw on him. you can't remember when it exactly started but it's became a routine for you to doodle and write on his hands in every class you two share. he'll return the favor, if you ask nicely. he copies whatever drawing you did on his hand to yours so you'd be matching. (he dreams of getting matching tattoos with you.) <3

ఇ . . . scares classmates away. whether it be a glare from across the room or an arm slung around your shoulders, miles is always scaring your classmates away. even if they show the smallest romantic interest in you.

ఇ . . . maintains eye contact. he's always looking for your eyes and trying to remain in contact with them when you talk. he just loves staring into your pretty doe eyes while you ramble about something you like.

ఇ . . . nicknames. miles doesn't want to scare you off by being too forward, so he'll limit his nicknames. the ones he does call you while crushing on you are ma and princesa.

ఇ . . . passes notes in class. he's a bit of a "model student" in class (not talking back, not interrupting or disrespecting classmates, turning in his work early on time. he just wants to be left alone lmao) but he's more than willing to pass notes with you throughout the entire period. you'll catch him up on the newest gossip and he'd update you on the stuff him and his homeboys get into.

ఇ . . . he'll help you study. if you don't know spanish or you're just a struggling student, he'll teach you everything you're having a hard time with at a comfortable pace. he'll quiz you every once in awhile just to make sure you fully understand and don't feel behind in anything. if you've shown a significant amount of improvement he'll treat you by taking you out for your choice of dessert. (it's really just an excuse to take you out on a date without using the word date)

ఇ . . . there's an unspoken rule that you are his. classmates know, your friends know, his homeboys know, hell, even the teachers know. you're the only person miles gives the time of day. you're the only one who gets to walk around with his arm on your shoulders, have his undivided attention, as well as be the reason for his smile. you are his and he is yours.

ᘏ⑅ᘏ

. . DATING STAGE . .

ఇ . . . late night facetime calls. you two are truly never apart. when you're not together physically you're on facetime with each other. he loves when you call him and showcase the cute things you bought for yourself using his card. he also just loves the comfort those calls bring him. seeing you engulfed in a warm blanket fast asleep while he's doing his own thing just makes him feel content. you're able to be there for each other without physically being there and that's enough for him to wait patiently until he's able to hold you again.

ఇ . . . clingy as hell. although, he'll never voice out his wants for your touch he will initiate it. miles will be the one to commence 80% of affection. partly because you're shy and mainly because he can't keep his hands off of you. miles is always touching you in some way. whether it be an arm around your shoulder, a hand resting on your thigh, or a hand rubbing your ass while you're cuddling. he can't resist kissing you either. his lips always finding any available part of your skin to kiss when he feels like it.

ఇ . . . compliments. every chance he gets he'll remind you how good you look. always hyping you up and telling you how beautiful you are. whenever you get overwhelmed by the flow of affectionate words that smoothly flow out of his mouth, you'll cover your face with your hands and turn away from him. it only gives him more fuel in the long run because he loves to see his girl get all shy and cute for him. sometimes he doesn't even use his words. a simple look up and down while licking his lips will leave you weak in the knees.

"that's all mine right there."

ఇ . . . genuinely hates arguing with you. he hates when you're upset with him. there are plenty of times where miles has provoked you to the point you've gotten upset with him and that's usually when he knows he's gone too far. you're his girl, his everything. he can't have you sulking because of him. although, miles does have a bit of a short-temper, he remains calm throughout these situations. he lets you both voice your sides and he won't let the situation go until you come to an agreement. he tends to avoid arguments at all costs. usually murmuring a "you got it, ma." before it turns into something more. after settling long disagreements, he'll engulf you in a hug and give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"love you. don't want my girl goin to bed mad at me."

ఇ . . . nicknames! his nicknames will consist of mi vida, mi reina, ma, mami, baby, etc. any term of endearment you can think of he's most-likely called you. usually consisting of 'my/mine'. he's very possessive. your contact name in his phone is 'mi corazon 💘' and you're the only one with an emoji next to your name.

ఇ . . . spoils you. you want it? you got it. although, miles isn't incredibly wealthy, he does have money. he uses it to take care of you and his mom, providing help for the both of you. he helps rio with actual necessities, while with you he provides you with gifts. ranging from shoes, eyelashes, lace fronts, plushies, clothes, or electronics. the most expensive gift he's gotten for you is an ipad and apple pencil. it was for your birthday and he knew he had to get it for you after hearing you fangirl about it nonstop.

ఇ . . . lets you do his hair. he usually only lets rio do his hair, he's a major mama's boy. so, when you were granted the privilege to do his hair you felt honored. he also just loves when you take his braids out and give him scalp massages. he's fallen asleep on occasion because of how gentle and soothing your hands are. he's also tender-headed as hell so, please be careful or you'll get a earful of him complaining.

"damn, ma. why you gotta pull so tight?"

ఇ . . . buys matching sets. he buys you both matching shoes, clothes, and jewelry. he likes the simplicity of being able to match with you and show everyone you're his without voicing it. you two are the couple that matches on christmas. matching christmas tree pants, and santa hats...rio thinks it's adorable. for your 5 month anniversary you were gifted a gold necklace with his name written in cursive and once he helped you put it on he revealed the necklace that was under his shirt that had your name in gold written in cursive. only time you two take it off is when you're in the shower/pool. he'll take it off during prowler business as well, he doesn't want to disclose any of his personal business at work, it's very dangerous for the both of you.

ఇ . . . cant sleep without you. once miles gets a taste of what life is like keeping you close and holding you to sleep, it's hard for him to go without it. he loves cuddling with you and if there were any instance where you two wouldn't be together he would toss and turn all night and look at the ceiling until his body physically shut down itself. it's not the healthiest way to go by so when he starts to show up to school with deeper eye bags than usual, you decide to give him a plushie of his own. he'll buy the plushie little clothes and change them every now and then. he names it after you, and he even bought the exact perfume you wear and sprays it on the stuffed animal before going to bed and cuddling it. he's embarrassed to admit it, so he'll never tell you how much he pampers it. (you don't need him to tho, you've caught him kissing the top of the stuffed animals head before cradling it in his arms and murmuring 'goodnight, mi vida.')

ఇ . . . will go to the barbie movie with you. he'll thrown on a pink hoodie, black jeans, and pair it with some jordan's while you're decked out from head to toe in pink. he's gonna cry at one point during the movie and you have to pretend you didn't see. when you ask him if he liked it he'll shrug his shoulders while sniffling. he def gave his mom a big hug when he got back home. :')

"yeah, yeah...it was alright, i guess."

ఇ . . . talks about you to his mom. mile's didn't speak much of you when he had a crush on you, but he really didn't have to. his mom knew there was something or more so someone occupying his mind whenever he'd come back from school with a slight dazed expression and the tiniest smile.

ఇ . . . graffiti's your initials together. whenever he's bored and has a little extra time on his hands he'll graffiti his and yours initials together. sometimes replacing your last initial with an 'M' for Morales..

ఇ . . . treats your stuffed animals like they're your children. he scolds you if he catches one of them on the floor, he'll name them future child names he has in mind because he def wants to get married and start a family w/ you, he gives them hugs and buys cute little tutu's for them. lowkey will throw a fit if he finds out you gave some of them away.

ఇ . . . buys/sends things that reminds him of you. he'll buy you your fave bag of chips if he sees it in the store, he'll pick up a keychain with your name on it and attach it to his bookbag, he'll send you memes or recommend a tv show because the character reminded him of you. you're really on his mind 25/8.

ఇ . . . bakes with you. he loves baking with you. you two will bake the hell out of some chocolate chip cookies or some brownies. nothing that takes too long or a lot of preparation though, he'll get antsy and kinda touchy which leads to burnt products and a ruined cake pan.

ఇ . . . shows you off/brags about you. his friends and close family members know all about you and your achievements. if you play sports he'll cheer you on and brag about your wins, if you're an artist he'll post your artwork, if you have a small clothing brand he'll wear it and tell people to buy from your store if they ask, if you knit/crochet he'll ask you to make him a bucket hat or a mini version of you and him, if you dance he'll stay up all night on the phone while you show him your new choreography. it doesn't matter what you do, miles will continue to support you and brag about any and every achievement you accomplish. big or small.

ఇ . . . miles morales loves his sweet soft significant other.

currently re-writing my miles morales fic that was 6k words because tumblr decided to randomly delete it 🥲 i'll try to get it out soon! <3

also sorry for inactivity, i've been busy w/ school and work but i'll try to shoot out fics faster when i get the time :) !!

[vampjaeyun]

NETFLIX & CHILL

PAIRING loser!jake x maneater fem!reader | wc: 1.2k

SYNOPSIS “Do you seriously not know the meaning behind ‘Netflix and chill?’”

WARNINGS reader is in heat lmfao, soft jake, dry humping, hickeys

NOTES IF THIS SEEMS FAMILIAR, ITS BECAUSE I WROTE THIS FOR MARK ON MY NCT BLOG!!! I revamped it because I wanted to post something for jake's birthday but I haven't finished the one-shot im writing for him, so enjoy this for now <3

happy late birthday to my side piece, xo

WHAT IS JAKE SIM HERE FOR?

Tapping at your thigh, your impatience grows after every second that passes.  

You're not typically this horny or impatient, but to set the scene, you met Jake on the first day of classes.  As everyone filed into the auditorium and the professor began rambling, he took the seat alongside yours.  Throughout the first week of school, you started talking to him, sharing mutual interests and small talk.  You think he's awfully cute.  So you went ahead and texted him, wanting to "Netflix and chill" this weekend.  Maybe you were being too direct, but the deed had already been done, so you chose to embrace it. 

He doesn’t hesitate with a ‘for sure’ text back, not asking further questions or details about your request.  You smile at that, itching to explore another side of the cute boy who you see in class. 

The day arrives, and he walks over to your flat, smiling affectionately as the door swings open.  You both laugh and fond over each other while he cooks dinner and joins you afterward at the dinner table. He's so funny and sweet you realize, finally conversing about things other than school; it influences you to increase your expectations, and you wonder why hookups aren't typically like this. 

Now you're both adjacent to each other, your body cuddling up to his side as the movie plays. It's amusing since Jake hasn't made a single move towards you all night.  Aside from the arm around your shoulder, he hasn't attempted to sneak his arm any lower.  And he hasn't turned to face you since coming in contact with the couch.   Perhaps he changed his mind?  The movie is almost over, and the line has yet to be crossed. But the voice in the back of your head tells you that just because he didn't plan to tonight doesn't mean he doesn't want to, right?  A glimmer of optimism just helps to persuade you more, and once you dig a hole, you only dig deeper.

He laughs at a comedic moment in the film and you find it adorable.  He’s so invested and that’s when you finally realize Jake seriously didn’t come here to have sex with you.  It’s not his intention at all. His kindness and investment into everything you both did tonight is probably an effort into a full-on date. 

But this only made you more horny and attracted to him.  Fuck, you want to jump his bones so fucking bad.  And shit, you feel terrible because your mind and body are telling you to rip off the bandaid.  The pulsing want you have for this man is almost uncomfortable.  

You’re cursing yourself but like a bitch in heat you’re already escalating the situation. 

“Jake, the movie’s almost over,” you look up at him. 

He’s chuckling at your random commentary then looking down at you, “Yeah, it’s almost over.” 

“It’s almost over, and I invited you to Netflix and chill,” you pout.  Maybe the phrase ‘Netflix and chill’ flew over his head but it couldn’t be. You recall texting him the exact words.  There’s no way someone could misinterpret that.  Right? 

He blinks at you as if he’s unable to process your response. 

“Aren’t we doing that right now?” he quirks.  Maybe he’s genuinely clueless or the facade is running right past you, but you are fully convinced Jake has no idea about the ulterior motive of the popular phrase.

No one could guess Jake Sim would be the one who doesn’t know this term.  Maybe a stereotypical nerd whose internet consumption is strictly educational research.  Never judge a book by its cover, they said.  But you haven’t fully related to the metaphor until now.  Jake Sim’s cover has the term ‘fuckboy’ written all over.  Right to the Chrome Hearts hoodie and silver chain that looks like it belongs there.  

It’s alarming.  So alarming, that you have to sit up from Jake’s side to face him clearly.  Your brain is moving at a million miles per minute as you try to grasp the idea of how Jake doesn’t know the popular booty-call slang, head tilted to the side and all.

“Is there something wrong?” he questions. It’s beyond innocent.  His wide eyes give away the sincere worry he has and all you want to do is jump his bones.  

You smirk, “Do you seriously not know the meaning behind ‘Netflix and chill?’”

He pauses, staring like a deer in headlights, “It has another meaning? What else would it mean?” 

“Jakie,” you inch closer to him, so much that your noses brush at the nickname. “You’re so cute,” you utter slowly as you straddle him with one leg on each side of his thighs.  Thankfully, you wore a skirt, so the thin panties are the only thing obstructing the feeling of the rough material of his jeans.   

The poor boy beneath you flinches as you move so seductively in slow motion.  You’re glancing up to gauge his reactions and you swear you see a shadow of darkness in those chocolate orbs.  If that wasn’t enough for you to completely lose control, you follow his tongue gliding along his bottom lip and all you want to do is bite his lips until they’re bleeding.

“Why’d you agree to my text, but won’t do just that?” his breath hitches as you slightly move around on him, but it doesn’t have much of an effect because you’re not directly where he needs it most. 

“W-what?” he stutters slightly.  So cute.

“It means,” you bring your lips to graze his earlobe. “You wanna fuck,” u purr and he freezes at the revelation. 

“You wanna fuck while some stupid movie plays in the background,” at this, your hips move directly above his crotch and the weight of your body forces him to groan softly in pleasure. 

“It’s j-just an excuse,” You whimper as you move sensually against him.  Jake's hooded eyes tenderly glance at you, his erection slowly increasing against his jeans as the scene progresses. Because of his hesitation, his hands have yet to find homage at your hips, and you almost grab them to move them yourself. “You can touch me, you know.  Don’t be afraid.  I’m all yours,” you rasp, and the boy you’ve been crushing on crumbles underneath your fingertips. 

You waste no time chasing more pleasure,  continuing to drag your lips against his neck, sucking and biting to leave rosy marks on his flesh. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unknowingly tugging on his locks, only for him to squirm beneath you.  His rough hands attempt to steer your hips and it's not quite enough for you to cum, but the zipper rubbing against your clothed clit sends a buzz up your spine, and you moan against his neck. 

"Will you do it?" You resume licking a stripe from his collarbone to his jaw.  When you notice the overflowing lust painted on his features, you can't help but beam a grin.  

"Yes," he gasps at the sensation of your motions against him.  

"I'll do it."

[majinbangus]

Deeply curious about the conversation Soap and Ghost had before introducing Ghost as your guard dog. is this a regular part of their dynamic and they both missed it after soap got with you? Was it a forgone conclusion? Did one of them have to talk the other around to it? Lowkey (highkey) obsessed with this concept

i really love this ask -> more here

So before Soap brought Ghost home to you, Soap and Ghost didn't really have that 'owner/pet' dynamic, but the behavior was still there, kinda, if that makes sense?

Like, Ghost is always watching Soap's back and protecting him from something or someone, or he's standing back as the 'scary one' until Soap hands him the reigns while they're interrogating someone. Ghost is willing to follow Soap's lead, trusting the sergeant's judgments/plans/decisions, and he'll be there to 'save his arse' when he needs saving. That's a tacit understanding between them, and Soap knows that he can always count on Ghost to back him up.

This behavior does eventually leak into their day to day lives once they get more comfortable with each other, but it's not fully realized until much later. The epiphany only hits while he's on a mission. The one right before Soap was planning on telling you he'll compromise on getting a dog. He'd been thinking about how much you wanted one, and thought getting one of the retired military dogs would be a good compromise, albeit he was still extremely on the fence, even though he's worked alongside those dogs and the trainers before.

But while that was in the back of his head during the mission, Ghost told Soap to tell him when he had a clear shot of an enemy because he was in a shit position, and when Soap told Ghost to 'wait' and when to 'drop, 'em', that's when the lightbulb went off and Soap began reminiscing and noting every time Ghost behaved similarly to a dog, protective yet ready to defend- to bite. He listened to Soap's cues and body language, stepping in whenever needed.

Soap couldn't stop thinking about it. Ghost and his sweet lass. He didn't mind sharing, the match would be perfect. Ghost fit all the qualities Soap wanted your guard dog to have, and you would have a dog just like you wanted!

When he brought it up to Ghost, it doesn't take much to convince him to get on board with it. The man's interest was piqued. Soap was asking him to be a dog. Your dog. He already liked you, thought you were a pretty thing, and he was always willing to go along with what Soap wanted. He didn't mind embracing an owner/pet dynamic with you and to another extent, Soap. You wanted a dog and that's what Soap was asking him to be, so that's what he would do.

He'd have to figure things out with his military service, but that could be settled later. Soap told him he still had to tell you about the compromise, but once that was done, he'd be taking Ghost home with him. And once he did, as expected, Ghost took to the role as your guard dog swimmingly.

(Soap knew he made the right decision when Ghost barked for you, the new collar hanging prettily on his neck. He knew this wasn't what you were expecting, but you would learn to love your new dog, and Soap would be there to teach you everything you needed to know how to care for him too.)

[empty-movement]

GOGAI, GOGAI!!! COME GET UTENA KIBBLES

It's September 3rd. It's 1997. Princess Diana just died, and that's very important to lots of people. You, however, are chewing your nails to nubs waiting for the climax of Revolutionary Girl Utena's Black Rose Saga. It's going to air today.

But like any good fan, you're already one step ahead, because you've spent the last couple days thumbing through Animedia's September issue supplemental, the 100 page Duelist Bible. Strangely, it appears to be in English??? Wow! Thanks Nagumo for translating, Ayu Ohseki for Japanese editing, teasot for proofreading, and ME, FUCKIN' VANNA, for scanning and scanlating this massive booklet!

We've got duel summaries! We've got character design sheets! We've got a school directory! We've got THE DUEL RULES. We've got cast interviews! WE'VE GOT THAT CHU-CHU DOLL CRAFT GUIDE. Check it ALL out here, in the Something Eternal Bibliothèque! You can flip through it page by page here, or you'll also find on the page a link to a PDF version for your at home viewing/archiving needs!!

This gargantuan tome really gets it across that in 1997, you didn't have a fandom wiki or on demand viewing. If you didn't catch and record the episodes, a booklet like this becomes a critical tool for keeping track of everything that's happened up to now, and is also a way for the series creators to tap fans on the shoulder and draw attention to details they want seen but not explained in the show directly. For example, this drops at the close of the BRS, but points out Touga's sword isn't the same in Keiko's duel and in the opening sequence. A thing we don't see cashed in until MUCH later!

This has been a true and absurd labor of love on my part. I even rescanned the booklet from my originals because their quality (decades old lmao) was not worth scanlating. This took a ludicrous amount of time, and has been a main project of mine for over a year now!! I'm so happy to have gotten it done in time for the Something Eternal Watch-Along thread, and I really really hope everyone finds something cool and interesting about it! The really cool thing is this now completes the set of magazine supplementals by the big three magazines made for Utena during its run. We now have fully scanlated this, as well as Animage's June Utena Dossier, and Newtype's November Utena? (Oh My!) UTENA! Take a stroll through memory lane, be they yours or someone else's!

As always, if you like this kind of content, consider supporting us on Patreon! Especially right now, a holy grail acquisition is in the works that I will bleed to share with y'all. More on that later, lmao.

Revolutionize the World! Love, Vanna

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

[runnning-outof-time]

Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @asherlockfandom

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking

Word Count: 3475

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.

"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.

"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.

"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.

"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.

"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.

"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.

"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.

"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."

"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.

"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.

"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.

"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.

"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.

Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.

Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.

Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.

"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.

"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.

"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.

"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.

She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.

"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.

Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.

"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.

"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.

"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."

"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.

These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.

"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."

(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.

The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.

(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.

Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.

"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"

"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."

"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.

"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.

(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.

"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.

"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.

"I would," she affirmed with a nod.

"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.

"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.

"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.

The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.

She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.

Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.

The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.

A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.

"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.

"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"

It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."

"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."

"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.

"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.

"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.

"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.

(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.

"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"

Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.

She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.

A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.

Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.

But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.

"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.

"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.

"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.

"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.

"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"

"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.

"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.

(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.

"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.

"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.

"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.

"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.

"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.

"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."

"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”

Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.

“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.

“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”

“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

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MASTERLIST

[wwooyology]

PARK SUNGHOON HARD THOUGHT

「warnings」 : 18+ MINORS DNI!!

「notes」 : this is dedicated to @pockettwinzz. I hope that you enjoy this small Hoon hard thought that conspired from your mental crisis. I may or may not have gotten a tad carried away.... whoops.

alright, so imagine this..... you and sunghoon are in the middle of a heated make-out session in your shared bedroom, and clothes are sprawled all around the room haphazardly. neither of you cares, though, too worried about the feeling of each other warm skin against the other. sunghoon had his hands underneath your underwear, squeezing the flesh of your ass, eliciting a small moan from your lips, giving him the chance to slip his tongue inside yours. you so easily became lost in his taste that your mind was starting to get foggy. the only thoughts occupying it were your boyfriend and how good he felt against you.

sunghoon chuckled against your open mouth as you rocked your hips against his, seeking any kind of friction you could. he let you seek out your pleasure for a few moments, relishing in the sound of your soft whimpers. then his grip on your back end tightened, halting your movements and causing you to pout.

"are you that desperate already, princess?" he leaned forward, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw until he reached your ear. "I haven't even done anything yet."

"hoon..." you whined again, trying your best to fight against his tight hold, but it was pointless; he was far too strong.

"you gotta use your words, baby; what do you want?" he asked as his lips left, searing kisses down the side of your neck, causing your eyes to flutter at the sensation. when you didn't answer him, he pulled away to take in your already fuck-out expression, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

realizing that he had stopped, you allowed your eyes to open, meeting his hooded gaze. the intensity of his gaze was enough to leave goosebumps all over your skin and heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. you once again tried to move against his hold, but just like all of your previous attempts, it ended in failure.

the smirk then fell from sunghoon's lips, and his grip got unbelievably tighter. it was tight enough that you were sure that bruises in the shape of his fingers would be embedded in your skin the next day, but the pain only made your desperation grow.

"I said use your words, princess; only good girls get what they want, right?" he growled, his upper lip pulling back just far enough to reveal his pointed canines that you love so much.

you let out a pathetic cry when his hand came down, landing a harsh smack on your ass cheek. tears started to pool on your waterline as you looked at your boyfriend with a pleading expression, an expression that sunghoon would kill to see every day. then the words started to tumble from your lips.

"hoonie, please just fuck me. I'll be good, just fuck me, I want your cock so bad." the pleas fell from your lips like a testimony, and sunghoon couldn't help but smirk once more, satisfied with your answer.

"then don't let me stop you. take whatever it is you want, babydoll." his tone was teasing as he leaned back slightly, taking in your perplexed expression.

then within seconds, your needy eyes had come back, and you were scooting down your boyfriend's legs, far enough to pull his boxers down, allowing his hard cock to spring free. your mouth started to water at the sight of the angry red tip, watching the little beads of precum dribbling down the side before getting caught on the vines.

however, your need to have your pussy filled rather than your mouth was much much stronger. so you stood on your knees before moving your underwear to the side, far too gone to bother taking them off. sunghoon watched as you slowly sank yourself down onto his dick until he was fully trapped inside of your heat, biting the inside of this cheek to keep from groaning at how tightly you were squeezing him.

"fuck hoonie...." you whined out, hands gripping his biceps to try and stabilize yourself.

sunghoon then sat up straighter, causing him to push even further into you, which in turn caused a loud moan to fall from your parted lips. his hands then found your hips as you started to rock yourself against him, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his cock rubbing your velvet walls just right. so much so that your ability to think straight was completely thrown out the window, carried away by the wind.

"oh, is my poor baby already fucked stupid?" he chuckled as he latched his lips onto your collarbone, sucking deep purple marks along your skin, listening to all of your little noises. "don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you."

then within a blink of an eye, he had your back pressed against the mattress, hand pinned above your head as he pounded into your needy hole without an ounce of mercy. not stopping until he was completely drained dry and you were on the verge of passing out, stars dancing across your vision when your nth orgasm hit just as sunghoon finished.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.