#I've never taken the necklace

[realbigsimpin]

I'm already obsessed with the Ivory Wraith but after this??? HELLO?? Can they be my primary love interest because I love their lore, their obsessive love, and the fact they can, in fact, be sweet!!

[shotmrmiller]

Multiverse part 3

You sat in a small room on a padded chair, with equipment set up around your arm, chest, and fingertips. A polygraph test. That's what you were being forced to take. And to your chagrin, Ghost is in the room with you and Captain Price.

"Try to relax, yeah?" Price commented. He must've noticed your restless leg.

"I'll do that, shall I? I've done nothing wrong, other than exist and I'm being interrogated. Because that's what this is— an interrogation." You finally turn your attention from Ghost to look at Price, who's sitting at the desk by your side. "Tell me, Captain. Did you get this same treatment when you came back after spending all that time locked up in the gulag?"

His dark eyebrows furrow in confusion. A sigh escapes your bitten lips. That's only in your...world, for lack of a better term. Dimension? Universe?

"I haven't been to the gulag here." Yeah, obviously.

With an impatient wave of the hand that doesn't have cables strapped to it, you mutter, "Let's get on with this circus act, then. Ask your questions."

Ghost steps forward, his arms unfolding as if he's about to speak to you, but Price swiftly intervenes, halting him with a raised hand.

"Alright then. Baseline questions first. Name." Ghost gives away nothing when you say your last name is Riley.

It goes like this for a few, then he switches to the control questions, until finally moving on to the relevant ones.

"How did you get here?" I don't know.

"Do you know why you're here?" No.

He pulls up a photograph. "Recognize him?" Captain MacTavish.

Another photo. "Him?" I don't know.

"What do you mean by that?" If that's Roach, I've never seen his face unmasked.

"You're sure you don't know him?" Unless that man's name is Gary Sanderson, no. I do not know him.

Price acknowledges your response with a nod, then shifts his gaze towards Ghost, whose head slightly tilts forward. Returning his attention to you, he retrieves a final photograph. "What about him?"

As you look at the picture, your eyes begin to well with tears, lip trembling violently. A new fracture reverberated through your tender heart, intensifying the ache in your chest. Yes.

"Who is he?" Price softly asks.

"That's my Simon," your voice broke on the last syllable. It was hard to not use a possessive adjective when the face of your husband was in that picture.

Blinking the tears away, you clear your throat. "Anything else, Captain?"

Price purses his lips under his hefty facial hair and responds, "Just a few more questions."

Once finished, you sat unabashedly staring at Ghost in the tiny room. "I wear Roach's tags alongside yours, in honor. He was with you until the very end, and for that, I couldn't be more grateful."

Ghost is completely silent, but you continue talking anyway. "I've been married to you since a bit after you came home on leave that one time. You know the one."

His eyes are emotionless, blank, as he stares at you. But you know him like the back of your hand. You've got his full attention.

"I accompanied you to your brother's wedding. He married a woman, Beth. She was good for him. They had a baby, your nephew, named Joseph. The love you had for him was one of a kind. I had told you later that evening that I dreamed of the day you'd look at our children like that."

With a shuddery breath, you tell him how none of those matters. Because your husband is dead, and you're stuck here. With his counterpart that hates you.

With a hushed click, the door closes shut behind him as he leaves, yet its resounding noise fills the compact room you're in.

You begin to fidget with the sizeable ring that hangs on a thin necklace beneath your shirt— the metal is warm under your touch as if it had never gone cold in the first place.

As if Simon had never taken it off his finger to go find Makarov.

ah theyre short but hurt. much pain.

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[crystalflygeo]

Mark of an Archon ft. Venti / Zhongli / Ei / Focalors / Nahida / Neuvillette + gn!reader

cw/tags: Mostly suggestive but nsfw in some parts (mostly Zhongli, Neuvillette) marking, kissing.

notes: Alright so... this is different from anything I've written before but I got inspired by the concept of the elemental symbols used as marks by the Archons to denote those important to them. Just short fluffy little dabbles I guess, first time writing everyone except the dragon men heh. I tried REALLY HARD to keep this gender neutral and be inclusive in descriptions but regardless, reader bottoms lmao. Hope y'all like it. (Y'all will NEVER guess where did I get the inspiration for all the marks' placements hehe) Edit: Y'all I have never played obey me WHEEZE the marks placement actually comes from a very old magical girl anime I loved as a kid XDDDD (except geo, it was on the belly button but-//hit)

It is said that the Archons place a mark on the body of their loved ones. A symbol of protection, perhaps of “ownership”, imbued with their elemental energy. Legends has it that they remain mostly invisible to the naked eye, glowing brightly only when the Archon in question touches it, but leaving behind a distinctive trace able to be identified with elemental sight.

However, none of this has been proven at all, and remains mostly as a fantastic tale, just a rumor…

Or is it?

-Barbatos

Venti’s mark rests between your shoulder blades, the small Anemo sigil emulating tiny wings in the most appropriate of places. It makes him fond of calling you his “angel”, though, you know it cannot compare to his own real wings... it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

It remains mostly covered, and yet without fail, Venti’s hand would always gently rest on it before his hand slides over to your shoulder or waist. At this point the touch soothes you and you’ve come to expect it every time you enter Angel’s share and bright Aqua eyes land on you.

In the dark of night, those precious moments of closeness and passion among the bedsheets, Venti’s nimble fingers, calloused by the Lyre and the bow alike, trail along your spine and stop at the mark, before he leans in and places a kiss on it.

For the God of Freedom to brand someone like this… it would seem as a contradiction, but you know it to be his blessing, his vow to you and your love. As his lips go up to your shoulder and his hands slide down to your waist, sneaking between your legs, he closes his eyes and hums a soft tune.

-Morax

The Geo mark is found on a rather unusual place, and to tell the truth, it even embarrassed you a little at first. The golden diamond placed just below your navel, partially hidden by the line of your underwear. When asked about it, Zhongli simply murmured something about dragon mating, fertility or virility… his cheeks dusted red.

You admit though, that once you get used to it, you do find yourself idly tracing it from time to time. Sometimes it seems to glow softly, or feel warm, perhaps responding to the Archon when he thumbs gently at it, contrasting and comparing with his own blackened arms, etched with veins of gold. Amber eyes staring up at you with love and desire as he places a kiss on it making you shiver.

Zhongli constantly wants to mark you more, in all sorts of ways. Drape you in silks and cover you in gemstones and gold. Leave bite marks along your skin. Douse you in his scent. It appeases his draconic instincts. But nothing compares to that little geo sigil, a personal indisputable claim, tattooed on your skin.

In a way, the mark could be taken as the God of Contracts’ signature and an unbreakable oath to you, his mate. It makes the dragon purr as he rolls his hips into yours, sinking deep inside you and making you whine as his palm presses against it.

-Beelzebul

Right at the center of your collarbone, like a pendant held by an invisible necklace, that is where the Electro mark was placed by Ei. Sometimes it’s a real shame it can’t be seen normally by humans, it would make for a pretty nice tattoo…

It’s not like the Electro sigil is rare to see anyway, quite the contrary, a rather popular choice and common sight all over Inazuma with deep cultural and religious meanings alike honoring Her Excellency. But one look from a youkai or one of the mikos at Narukami shrine and you know this is different.

Ei could act aloof and have a hard time expressing or understanding feelings, but the way she looks at you as she straddles you… dark violet hair cascading down her back and sides, hands roaming your chest and settling at your shoulders. She pins you there under her intense purple gaze and then bends forward to kiss at the sigil before moving to your lips.

The Goddess of Eternity considers her choices deeply and rarely ever goes back on her word or breaks a promise, and that is what she bestows upon you with her mark, a promise. Of love, of respect, of loyalty. Who would’ve thought the Electro Archon could be so… passionate?

-Focalors

You couldn’t believe just where Lady Furina had placed a pretty, blue, Hydro symbol on your skin. When asked about it she’d just giggled and said everything had a reason when it came to divine marks such as these… then proceeded to not explain at all. But seriously, your inner thigh?!

You could only sigh but smile softly at her antics as she laid across the couch, head rested in your lap, taking a nap by using your thighs as pillow, or demanding to be fed more sweets and sputtering indignantly when you poke at her nose or cheek instead, blushing.

She often drives you insane, paying special attention to the hydro marking with kisses and nibbles when you need her lips to go just a little more to the side… but oh, how she enjoyed teasing and riling you up. Mismatched blue eyes blinking coyly under thick eyelashes.

This is Lady Furina’s pledge to you, her word of honor as the Goddess of Justice, to love and cherish you no matter what. For despite her innocent act, she is guilty of having fallen for you.

-Bonus: Buer (Platonic)

Many people underestimate and doubt Nahida. A grave sin, in your opinion. When she places her mark of Dendro softly in your forehead, you feel nothing but pride, willing to follow and defend her and her teachings, for it is an honor to be her acolyte.

You see her wisdom in her actions, in the contemplating looks at her beloved city and people, in the way she always tries to solve problems and learn from difficulties, in her kindness, gentleness and little smiles. You see her love in the way she helps the elderly and soothes the children, in the candied ajilenakh nuts she shares with everyone, in the sparkle of her unique green eyes.

Like any other Archon, her nation and all its inhabitants are like her children. Despite her preferred appearance, the way she holds your hand as she guides you along and brushes at your hair gently with comforting words and praise feel more akin to a mother.  

Just as you trust her, she trusts you, that is the covenant her sigil represents. And in the eyes of the Goddess of Wisdom, one day you’ll reach the sky and stars above.

-Bonus II: Hydro Dragon Sovereign

You stare at the sigil in the palm of your hand. An ancient symbol of power, no doubt, but with a meaning long since lost to time and shrouded in mystery. Yet, its significance is crystal clear to you: “I am yours as you are mine.”

The way the Iudex would always, without fail, hold your hand gently and kiss your palm instead of the back of it as it was traditional would no doubt confuse some people, but it makes your heart skip a beat. This special connection, the knowing look from those gorgeous lavender eyes and the hidden smile pressed against your skin…

Your back arches with a moan as Neuvillette ruts softly into you, slow and reverent, peppering kisses and nuzzling at your neck. His hand takes a hold of yours, fingers intertwining and you shiver as the marking in your palm seems to react. Your grip his hand tighter, canting your hips as well and surrounding him with your legs, asking for more, more, more-

It’s unknown if one day his kind will return to power, just as it’s impossible to predict the flow of the elements and the energy in leylines or just what the future will bring. But for Neuvillette, having you by his side feels like the most refreshing spring water and makes life that much sweeter.

[harrysbelovedd]

the kook's girl [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x kook reader

summary - being the only girl in the kook friend group, you were always taken care of. especially since you and rafe started dating four months ago. safe to say, everyone on the island knew not to mess with you if they valued their life at all. so, when the tourons came to town in the summer, the kook boys always got their bit of fun.

warnings - swearing, fighting, just our fav protective!rafe

"Sarah, it's our song!" She slurred, grabbing onto her best friend's hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.

Rafe and Sarah are never on good terms, but Rafe knows no matter how much he hates his sister, she'll always be his girl's best friend. He's grateful for it sometimes, as annoying as it can be, it's just one more person who cares about her and is always looking out for her when Rafe can't be.

But tonight, as both kook girls are drunk off their asses, Rafe keeps a close eye. He spots John B doing the same from across the club as he sits next to Kiara, still keeping a close eye on his girl, Sarah.

Rafe sits in a booth at the club, nursing a glass of whiskey in his palm. Topper and Kelce sit next to him, talking about things he could not care less about at the moment. For example, the girls on the dance floor they want to take home, golf, etc.

No, Rafe's attention is solely on the girl who lights up the dance floor in her sparkly pink dress which Rafe bought for her just three days prior. Her gold necklace with the letter 'R' hanging from her neck shines brightly as the club lights hit it. Her baby pink kitten heels travel her elegantly across the floor as her arm remains tightly latched onto Sarah's as they dance in tune.

He barely even notices the slight smile etched onto his lips in affection as he takes a slow sip from his glass.

"Yo!"

Rafe's attention is abruptly moved from his girl to his dumbass friends as Topper pulls on his white half-way unbuttoned shirt.

"What?" Rafe spits, rolling his eyes at their antics.

"Tourons, 12 o'clock." Topper warns.

"What the fuck? I think they're looking at Y/n and Sarah, man." Kelce points out, suddenly sitting up straighter as they both snap out of their previous conversations to keep an eye on the situation.

This catches his attention as he clocks the three sun burnt tourists waltzing in wearing khaki shorts, polos, and flip flops. Idiots. He notices one of them point in Y/n's direction as the other's snicker, laughing as they spoke to each other.

Rafe’s eyes dart back to Y/n, oblivious as ever, in her own little world.

"I've almost been waiting to pick a fight," He confesses. "Just wait till they get too close."

The three morons make their way in the direction of Y/n. One particular guy, wearing a blue tropical button up, comes up behind Y/n, tapping her shoulder. Rafe is just close enough to overhear the conversation.

“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he smirks, hungry eyes looking her up and down.

She turns around, her smile slightly fading at his stare. “Um, hi.” She spins back around, grabbing onto Sarah.

“You two are pretty little things, out here by yourselves.” He chuckles, his hand moving to her shoulder.

“You gonna go out there man?” Topper asks, getting anxious for the girls.

“No, just wait. I want a real excuse to kill em’.” Rafe responds, his fists clenching.

Ethan’s grimy hands near Y/n’s neck, his index finger latching onto her gold ‘R’ necklace. “What’s your name, hm? R…?”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Y/n whispers, her eyes meeting Rafe.

Rafe stands, marching over to Ethan. Rafe’s fist latches onto the back of his collar, pulling him back as Y/n’s necklace slips from his grasp. Rafe turns him around, knocking a punch to his jaw, blood spurting from his lips onto Rafe’s face.

Rafe lets go aggressively, the boy falling to the ground forcefully. Rafe smirks, his ringed hand coming up to wipe Ethan’s blood from his jaw. “The ‘R’ stands for Rafe. Her boyfriend.” He states before knocking one more punch to the boy’s cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” He pathetically whimpers, begging for mercy.

“She clearly had zero fucking interest in you, yet you continued,” He chuckles. Rafe leans down, pulling Ethan’s neck up by his collar. “You better hope your flight out of here is tomorrow morning. If not, watch your back man.”

Topper and Kelce come into view, peering at the man below Rafe, only inciting more fear into the poor tourist. Ethan’s two friends quickly pull him up, scattering out of the club as fast as they can.

Rafe turns to Y/n, his demeanor immediately turning soft, a side of himself only she gets to see. “You okay, baby?” He asks, his eyes scanning over her face for any discomfort.

“I’m okay, just some asshole tourist.” She rolls her eyes, manicured fingers grasping onto her necklace.

His eyes flick down to her hand, she only fidgets with her necklace when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. He feels more rage and anger boil up inside him thinking about how that guy ruined her night of fun with Sarah.

“Wanna go home, baby?” Rafe whispers softly, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears.

She bites her lip in debate, turning toward her friend Sarah. Sarah nods her head, “It’s okay, I’m gonna have John B take me back to his place too, it’s getting late anyway.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go home. I’ll text you Sarah, we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?” Y/n feels guilty, her and Sarah haven’t gotten to spend as much time together ever since she started dating John B and hanging out with his friends more.

Y/n had nothing against the pogues, she thought the rivalry was stupid and childish. She actually found them quite nice, but she spends every minute with her best friends, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce.

Rafe slings his arm around her shoulder after giving his goodbyes to Topper and Kelce, walking you to his truck. He opens the door for you without a word, buckling you in and shutting the door.

When he gets in on his side, starting the truck, he looks over at his girl at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”

She sniffles, “I just miss Sarah. Wanted to hang out with her tonight but those guys ruined it.”

Rafe’s hand slips around her thigh, patting it lovingly. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Sarah gets her ass off the cut tomorrow to hang out with you, okay?”

She smiles, her hand finding comfort atop Rafe’s. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

You agree to be used as bait for a mission

"So everyone's good with the plan?" You asked, after briefing out the step by step that was put together for this latest mission.

Looking around the room, you were met with silence but an almost unanimous nod. When your eyes landed on Bucky, his gaze dropped to the floor. He had something in his mind. But didn't want to speak up.

"Fab, okay, we have three hours until it's go time. Okay? See you all back here ready to get moving?"

The small group of people made their way out the room, leaving just you and Bucky.

"If you have something to say. Now would be the time." You folded your arms across your chest. "But if it has anything to do with my capability or skill. I don't want to hear it."

"It doesn't doll, I-"

"Enough with the nicknames, you don't get to do that to me anymore."

"Sorry, I just. I still care about you, and I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh, that's fantastic. What's it going to take for you to get it into your head, that you don't get to play the victim when you ended things. I never wanted to break up. I was too much for you. Okay? Or whatever the bullshit excuse you said was."

"I said I wasn't ready for something as serious as what you were asking for."

"But only after we slept together and started looking for a house. Oh and I introduced you to my whole family. Only after that right?" You couldn't stop the snarky tone laced into your words.

"...Yeah."

"So what exactly don't you like about this plan?"

"The lack of contact we will have with you. You say you can't wear a earpiece, there's no cameras in this place. So how exactly will we know you need help. If, if you need help."

"I won't. I've got this."

He shook his head, "that's not good enough. What happens if you accidentally blow your cover and they cart you off somewhere to get information from you. None of us will know because you're off in some back room somewhere."

"I'll wear a panic button, will that make you feel better."

"Okay, um, yeah that will. What do you have in mind?"

"Haven't taken it off Bucky." You moved the collar of your dress, revealing the necklace he had made for you.

As if he could look any more like a lost puppy, his expression only got more solemn.

"Good, okay, I-"

"I know this is worth nothing. But I'm still in love with you. Guess I just really hate the fact you don't want me."

[ladykailitha]

The Rockstar and the Teacher

Just thinking about a rockstar Eddie and a school teacher Steve who have been together for a decade, but Steve is kept out of the limelight by his choice.

He doesn't want to have his kids harassed because of who he's dating. Plus the whole gay man= pedophile in the minds of most parents.

Things are going great until they aren't.

Steve sees a tabloid with the headline "Eddie Munson photographed outside local bar with boyfriend, hints there may be a spring wedding!" and he's furious. Like seeing red, pissed off.

Because the guy next to Eddie is not Steve.

Whoever he is, he's dressed the same as Eddie. Leather jacket, long hair, chains everywhere.

But he barely has time to get worked up because even though Eddie had been in LA working on the band's next album, he is bursting through their house in Hawkins's door.

Eddie skids to a stop when he sees the tabloid on their kitchen counter and holds up his hands.

"I'm sorry, baby," he mutters and Steve chokes back tears, "I was trying to get home before you saw that."

"Why would you do that to me?" Steve cries.

Eddie slowly pulls out his phone like he's getting it out for a cop and hands it over to Steve, who takes it with a frown.

"It's not me, sweetheart," Eddie says. "I can prove it."

Steve looks at the phone and it instantly opens to Steve's face.

Eddie can see the hope spark in Steve's eyes as he looks through Eddie's phone.

Text message after text message about Eddie planning on getting Steve a necklace with both of their initials on it from Steve's favorite jewelry designer.

Eddie's phone pinging him at a nearby bar, but not the one the photo is showing him coming out of at the time it was taken.

Then the final evidence. A fan photo of Eddie and the girl taking a picture just outside of it the other bar at the time other Eddie was supposedly getting his picture taken with his "boyfriend".

"My management and PR team are on it, Stevie," Eddie tells him. "We think it was a setup from the jewelry guy. He lured me to the bar so that they could stage the pap photo."

Steve frowns at the phone in his hand, his fingers gripping it so tightly that his knuckles go white.

"Why?"

Eddie runs his hands over his face. "Honestly?" Steve nods. "To get you to come out in the public eye."

Steve looks at the phone and then back at the paper on the counter. Eddie can see his heart sink.

"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs. "I've been selfish. If I had just gone to LA with you been your partner all of the time, this wouldn't have happened."

Eddie takes Steve's face in his hands. "You are my partner all of the time. Even when we're apart. You weren't being selfish. You had just gotten your degree when we made it big. You wanted to use what you had paid for, and rightly so. This is on them, not you. Never you!"

Steve lets out a shuddered breath and then nods. "Okay."

He lets out another breath and Eddie smiles as Steve straightens his shoulders and cracks his knuckles.

"Give me two hours and I'll have this sorted."

Eddie doesn't doubt it.

****

Two hours later, Steve comes out in a beautiful cream suit and silver mesh top.

Eddie looks up from his place on the sofa and licks his lips slowly. He had been messaging Chrissy, his manager while Steve was doing whatever it was in his office.

"Wow, baby you look good enough to eat."

Steve grins. "It's a good thing you're hungry because we're going out to dinner."

Eddie stands up quickly and puts a hand on Steve's waist. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to. We're already suing everyone for defamation of character and libel."

Steve grinned. "Oh yeah. I've already spoken to Robin and Chrissy and they're onboard."

"K, baby."

****

They arrive at the restaurant and they sit in Eddie's little two seater.

"Last chance, Stevie," Eddie said, looking out at the waiting reporters. "Just say the word and we'll go somewhere more secluded."

Steve shakes his head. "Let's do this."

Eddie gives his hand a squeeze and gets out first.

"Eddie! Eddie!" one reporter calls out. "What do you have to say about that picture in The Sun?"

"That's not me," he says calmly. "That's not my boyfriend. I would never cheat on him that way."

Then a burst of questions asking about his real boyfriend as he moves around the car to open the other door.

Steve steps out looking like sex on legs. But also like nothing anyone pegged as Eddie's boyfriend.

Eddie kisses his hand and Steve blushes.

Suddenly all the questions are directed at Steve, asking if he's the boyfriend? How long have they been dating? What's his name?

Steve just bats his eyelashes and says quite clearly, "I would ask you to respect our privacy during this trying time."

BOOM!

Mic drop.

The reporters clam up, the cameras stop flashing as they stare at him in open mouthed shock.

Eddie swoops in and gives Steve the biggest kiss. And the only reason it was even caught on camera was because the video camera hadn't stopped rolling.

They go inside and Steve gets two messages on his phone and Eddie asks if he's going to look at them, but he shakes his head.

"It's probably just Robin wanting all the inside scoop."

So they finish their meal and walk back out to the valet, hand in hand. It's then when Steve pulls out his phone. He was right about the first message, the second one was from a private number and merely said:

-Ben fatto, mio caro*

Steve smiles and kisses the the screen before tucking his phone back in his pocket.

As they drive home, Eddie asks about the texts.

"Just my mom telling me she was proud of me in the only way she could."

Mrs. Sophia Harrington was too conceited to send him anything directly, especially since Clint Harrington had cut Steve off years ago due to him being gay. But she could send a single message from a private number that she would never use again, to let her son know that she was proud at how well he had handled the reporters.

Eddie just smiles and they drive home in comfortable silence.

****

Steve goes to work the next morning and stops in at the principal's office. He smiles when he realizes the press hasn't figured out who he is yet. But it will only be a matter of time and he knows it.

The principal holds up a printed copy of his resignation and demands to know the meaning of it.

So Steve tells him.

"Steve..." the principal whines when he's done.

"You know you're going to have parents banging down your door the second it gets out," Steve explains. "It's easier for me to just walk away now and not wait for you to have to fire me."

The principal sighs but agrees. "You'll be missed."

Steve nods and stands up. At least he'll have time to say goodbye to his kids.

By lunch time it's gotten around the school that he's leaving but not why.

Steve had sworn his kids to secrecy so everyone could say goodbye, but a couple of his students come and hang out with him at lunch to talk about it.

"I knew you had to someone cool," the one kid says. "You knew too much about Corroded Coffin to be lame ole Mr. Harrington."

Yeah, Steve isn't going to miss that one kid.

He makes it through the school day and some of the parents have setup an impromptu farewell party on the front lawn of the school.

It's a tearful goodbye, but Steve feels lighter as he makes his way to car with all his things, then he has in years.

****

The news breaks on who he is later that night and Steve doesn't envy the principal's headache tomorrow, but cuddled up with Robin and Eddie on his sofa, he really can't find it in himself to give a fuck.

They'll later go on the Tonight Show and talk about how Steve had been in the closet for years and how he was forced out by this stunt with the photo. He talks about how other celebrities had been forced out too and that apparently it's not just for famous people.

That because he was with a famous person that meant he had no rights either and how that has to start changing.

He's happy he's out now, but it should have been on his own terms and not the media's.

There ends up being a spring wedding, but just the following year as Eddie and Steve tie the knot, two beautiful rings on their hands and a dazzling necklace at Steve's throat with their new initials on it EM and SM.

There is a mysterious gift of two tickets to a private villa in Italy after their honeymoon that has them both grinning like fools.

****

Here's a little gay Italian Steve for you.

*Well done, my dear

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[kpopscruggles]

The people are asking for more txt twt links w/ Headcons and your thoughts! Love ur writing and maybe a sunghoon nsfw alphabet? I read some and it's a bit innacurate.. Would love your opinion on it (also new follower so idk much abt if u already posted that *I'll do some reseach :>*)

Thank you for requesting love! I decided to go with the sunghoon a-z because I've never done one and I've alr made a haechan request! 

Nsfw twt are on hold due to me finding some but soon I will bring those back! Anway's enjoy! 

A- aftercare, what he’s like after sex 

I feel he def attends to your needs, he’s at least doing the basics. Wiping you down, getting you cold water and a snack. I feel like he also does this though because he does it for himself if I'm being honest.  

Even if you didn’t care he was going to do it for himself so why not make sure his baby is taken care of too? It just makes sense to him. 

B- body part, their favorite on theirs and partner's body 

For him, his favorite body part on himself has to be his muscle. He’s not loke drooling over himself more than he is you but he does give himself good rep because he can pick you up, move you into diffrent positions with absolutely no problem. So i feel he values his muscles because of you in a sense. 

His favorite body part on you is your legs, he loves your legs. He loves how they are always in his lap, wrapped around his waist, on his shoulders. He loves kissing your ankles while ponding into you, also bonus points if you're wearing an ankle. 

C- cum, anything to do with cum 

I think he’s a clean guy UNLESS it involves a creampie. If he’s wanting you to swallow then he’s staying in your mouth, you must bribe him little to give you a facial or pearl necklace. Now like I said if it’s a creampie it’s sticky, messy, a shower after type fuck.  

Add in is I do believe he cums a lot, now realistic but he's got a nice stream going and is the type to squeeze his tip to make sure every bit comes out.  

D- dirty secret, self-explanatory  

Hoon’s got a few dirty secrets I believe but I think the main one he possesses and will never let you know unless you find out is bragging. And although this does not seem off but it's the fact, he could do the nastiest freaky things to you and has no shame in bragging about it when the boys try to tease him over it.  

This is something that he says between the boys and the boys, he doesn't get too personal with it, but he spills it by saying it’s something they should try with their girlfriends. 

E- experience, do they know what they are doing? 

I think if he had experience it's only have been one person. Hoon doesn’t strike me as the type who bounces around, for example you two could have dated months and he’s going to be sad ab it for a bit because he takes him time to know if he wants to date or not. 

So, one person but he’s mostly learned everything he’s fond of by himself, by watching porn, reading about it, etc.  

F- favorite position 

I don't think Hoon is basic, but he does use positions that slightly branch from the basic ones. Also keep in mind he finds ways to use his muscle. So, it falls under missionary, but he most has your legs on his shoulders and his moving your hips for you. It allows him to use his arm muscles, he's able to kiss around your ankles because he loves your legs. If not that then most the time it is quite simple missionary. 

G- goofy 

No, unless a simple mistake happens, he's profoundly serious cause he thinks sex is intimate. 

H- hair, how groomed is he? 

I think he keeps himself groomed and trimmed is his favorite. I think there is something about him that likes to keep the bit of hair because it is a human body and its gonna grow. Now he’s not freaking out if it grows a bit longer than planned nor is he judging you because your pussy is pretty to him no matter what. 

I- intimacy, how are they during the moment 

Super intimate, sex is a moment where in your relationship you're showing each other love and affection. Even after an argument sex is something that helps you both realize you love each other. He’ll do anything to have intimate moments with you because he genuinely does cherish them.  

J- jack off, how often? 

A lot. I am a firm believer Hoon has a perverted side and sometimes he’s too embarrassed to admit a simple thing got him hard.  

I also do believe he’s a firm believer of the fact no one can make you cum like yourself. He thinks you should even have moments where even though you have him you nor he should be ashamed of pleasuring yourself 

K- kinks? Top three 

Top three for him is Marking, Teasing, and A bit of overstimulation?  

Many people like to make these kinks rough, but they don't have to be. He likes marking because to him he loves when you nibble on his skin while he fucks you, He loves seeing you squirm a little or having you leave him with a raging boner even, overstimulation he likes because to him it kind of reveals how much or how eager you two wants each other with no shame or remorse for yourself to stop.  

L- Location, favorite places  

He enjoys just sex in the house (he may like the couch more than the bed) but if he’s out he doesn't mind meeting you somewhere private. It’s strange he has that vibe too because I also feel like he gives car sex after a few dates. 

M- motivation, what riles him up 

Anything you do sexually obviously riles him up but something nonsexual that gets him every.single.time, is when you wear certain colors. He thinks romantic colors like red, pink a dark purple, or a nice clean white takes him out every time, double points of the outfit is revealing 

N- no, turn offs 

He’s jealous that something I'll has to agree with most people on this app. Does that mean he won't share? Not technically. (not shipping when I say this) but he won't do threesomes unless it's with someone close, we can you jake as an example. But he’s only gonna do it once and all jake is getting is head. 

Another ultimate turn off is when things feel forced, not like one forcing the other but more of if he feels you are just having sex because you haven't in like a week, yeah, it’s not getting up so don't bother babe, he thinks sex takes time.  

O- oral, preference of giving or receiving 

He prefers giving, I believe. It doesn’t bother him when you wanna give him head, he just doesn’t feel that same ego boosts as when has got you whining while he’s fucking you with his tongue. So, unless he just has the urge to cut down your throat, he’s probably gonna stop your mid-way to ravish you instead. 

P- pace, fast? Rough? Slow? Sensual? 

He’ll get down with everything I do believe. I think if he’s feeling more sensual, he’s keeping his thrusts slow and deep so that orgasm just builds up by the minute. Rough, this is my opinion, but a lot of ppl do make him seem the be super rough, but I don’t think he’s like that and if he is it’s only when you're asking for it. Other than that, his rough is a lil messy and a couple marks but I also think he keeps a medium pace and just makes sure every inch of him fills you. 

Q- quickie? 

So, when I said in the turn off category, he thinks sex takes time. If you get a quickie outta him it’s a giving you head quickie because if his baby needs to cum he’ll gladly help. Other than that, I don't believe out of enha he's a quickie guy. 

R- risk, what are they willing to risk for sex with you? 

If you seem eager to do it, then he’s making his baby happy. If it’s not ruining anything in any way, he’ll do it for you. If it’s something he’s willing to risk, then it was never important is what he'll tell you. 

S- stamina? How many rounds 

I think he can carry about three rounds in his belt, if it's a needy situation 4 but if that's the case then 1 or 2 of the sessions someone is getting head so eventually your guy's breath is caught up. I do believe he spaces these sessions out if it's a 4 rounder but barely does this happen. Other than that, he’s going about three rounds  

T- toys, do they like them? 

Yes, so as said, he does think it’s healthy for you two to have sessions by yourself and you can use toys together but if you two use them when it’s just your personal time.  

U- unfair? Do they often tease? 

He thinks it builds up the need for others. He would love it if you teased him too. I see him as a competition teaser where you two see who gives in first. 

V- volume? Are they vocal? 

He’s a 50/50, what he’s always gonna do is dirty talk, no matter if it’s whispering or full-blown words. Now vocal as moaning wise, he lets out the soft moans, but only the overstimulation hit where he gets louder. 

W- wild card? Something that just randomly makes him relentless 

Knowing someone's listening or watching, or even knowing what you just did. If you are leaving your space after sex and one of the guys makes it obvious then he's getting hard again knowing there’s someone who knew he got to be balls deep inside you. It riles him up knowing he’s that lucky and that someone is jealous enough to tease and try to make fun.  

X- x-ray? What's he giving down there? 

I think he’s skinny but decently big. His tip always stays a pink, he’s got a couple semi prominent veins depending on how long he’s been edge or has held a boner. His balls are settled too, nothing rlly different there, like said he’s nice and trimmed so has a little hair patch. All around he gives pretty dick vibes.  

Y- yearning? High or low sex drive? 

High or normal. Most the time high which I feel is why he’s a guy who takes his time, this man is not thinking about being buried in your cunt 24 hours of the day just for a quick fuck.  

Z- zzzz, how fast he falls asleep after 

He’s tired but he’s not going to sleep without letting you know he loves you and that he enjoyed making you cum, sometimes even tells you thank you. Give a couple of kisses and make sure you're comfy.  

[delulu-baddie]

too sorry too late

A/N This is part 2 to girl in the mirror so if you haven't read that yet, make sure to check it out. Thank you guys so much for all of the positive feedback I got on the first part. I hope you enjoy.

Summary Paige comes back to make things right before realizing she's too late

Warnings Lots of swearing

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Paige’s POV

 I don’t know why I've been acting this way, I just want everything to go back to how it was in the beginning, when we were planning our future together and genuinely happy. I went to the gym to go shoot some baskets to cool off some after walking out after that fight. I don't know what I was thinking, I know that those things aren't true about y/n and I also know that she's been going through a hard time recently and here I am putting her down even more. I love her really, but I've been doing a shitty job of showing it. Spending nights partying with friends after promising her I would spend time with her and refusing to talk to her when she would bring up the things I did that was hurting her. I would never cheat on her and I know I shouldn’t have taken that receipt, I was well aware of what that waitress was trying to do, I just didn’t know how to react to it so I just crumbled it up and threw it in my pocket completely forgetting about it.  I never had any intentions on calling her but when y/n started making assumptions about my intentions I just added more fuel to the fire. I need to go back home and fix this right now, fix us right now before it's too late. 

Before heading back I stopped at the store and picked up some of her favorite flowers. It's something small but I need her to know that I'm trying. I think the store owner could tell that I was going through it because she ended up giving me a discount on the bouquet which doesn't usually happen. I hopped back in the car and sped back home to make this right with my girl and let her know how much I love and appreciate her. She's been there for me through it all. When I got hurt sophomore year she sat there with me through my whole recovery time period, came to all of my physical therapy appointments, just to show me that she's here to support me, and here I was not even giving her the reassurance that she's the only girl that I want, the one that I8 want to spend the rest of my life with. 

I park the car and walk up to the front door taking a deep breath before walking in. I noticed that all of the lights were off, so I'm assuming that she fell asleep after I left. I quietly make my way to the room and quickly notice that she's not there. Maybe she was on the couch and I missed her, I think to myself. I walk back over to the living room and realize she's not there. I walk back to our bedroom to see if she's in the bathroom and quickly notice the necklace I gave her tonight sitting neatly on my nightstand. That was enough to make my heart drop to my stomach. I quickly grab my phone and dial her number, but I get sent straight to voicemail, I call six times, and get sent to voicemail every time. I decided to text her to make sure she's okay and immediately noticed the text bubble turned green. “SHIT” I yell out, not caring if my neighbors hear. I fucked up badly this time and I need to figure out a way to bring her back.

It’s almost midnight and I should give her some time but I can't let her leave. I quickly grab my keys and make my way to my car, figuring she's at her best friend y/fn’s house and make my way over there. The drive is short, mainly due to the fact of me speeding well over the limit trying to get there as quickly as possible. My heart is racing and I have tears running down my face just trying to figure out how I could let things get this bad.I see her car parked outside, which is a good sign, at least I know she okay and  I make my way out of the car and knock on the door which gets opened my y/f/n. “What do you want, Paige?” she asked me with a clearly annoyed look on her face. “ I just want to speak to her” I say to her  “please” I beg, my voice cracking slightly. “She doesn't want to sp-” she starts before getting cut off by y/n “Its fine, just give me a minute, i'll be right back” y/n says before stepping outside shutting the door behind her. I take a good look at her, her eyes are puffy signifying she had been crying. 

 “So?” she asks with no expression on her face. “ Look, I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, I know what I said hurt you and I also know that none of it is true” I begin “ you should be able to come to me with your problems and I should be there to comfort you, not bring you down like I have been. I miss us, the real us, the ones that would stay up well past the time we should be awake, just talking and sharing small kisses. I'm aware that I messed up, and you don't have to accept my apology, but I need to get it out before I lose you for good. I promise you I'll change, I'll do better and I'll treat you how you should be treated. I love you, I have for the past two years, I want to marry you some day and start a little family together. Please just give me the chance to make things right.” I ramble, grabbing her hand. “Paige, I appreciate the apology, but it's already too late. These last few months have been miserable for me, and it was because of you.” she says starting to tear up “I would give anything to go back to the way we were, but I can't take anymore. I've changed, I barely look like myself anymore. I'm constantly getting torn down by you, we can't even have a conversation without it turning into some sort of altercation. I'm sorry but I don't see myself being with someone who acts like this, let alone having children with them.”

I looked at her hoping she would see in my face how sorry I was. After a minute of silence I break down, sitting on the curb crying into my hands. She sits down next to me, putting her hand on my back. “You're not a bad person Paige, you just started going down the wrong path, and I know one day you're going to find someone that you can love and treat right, but I can't sit here waiting for you to become that person.” she says looking over at me. I lift my head and wrap my arms around her crying into her shoulder “I'm so sorry” I sob into her shoulder. “I know you are, but this is for the best, I need to learn to love myself before I can love someone else, and I have you to thank for making me realize that.” she says lifting my  head off her shoulder to make me look at her. “This is for the best. I can't love you more than I love myself, not anymore” she says with a frown on her face. I've always hated seeing her sad, which is why any time we fought I would leave, because I couldn't cope with the fact that I was causing the love of my life to experience pain, but now I've lost her for good and there's nothing else that I can do about it.

“I love you” I say to her, grabbing her and pulling her into one last hug with a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too” she says before separating away and walking back into the house, giving me a small wave and closing the door. I run my hands down my face walking back towards my car, taking in what just happened. I lost the best person to come in my life, I ruined her and made her feel like she didn’t matter to me. I'm not sure how I'm going to get over this, and I hope that one day we can at least be friends, but I need to give her space and allow her to grow without me, and hopefully find someone who appreciates her the way that I should have.

[artficlly]

king of pentacles [one-shot]

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x fortune teller!reader when your travelling circus rolls into town, you are warned that bucky barnes is the outlaw who rules these lands. you plan to keep your distance, but he and his men can not resist a little entertainment.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, blowjobs, begging, p in v, cowgirl position, bit of teasing, soft sub bucky??, if you squint theres some plot, fortune telling, tarot cards, violence, choking, blood, mention of death, mention of torture, mention of beatings, implied previous non-con to reader (not from bucky), protective bucky barnes, smoking, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i literally cannot even tell you where this idea came from. i had a vague thought about a travelling circus, tarot reading character. i wrote this out and edited it in like two days?? insane. i don't normally write smut so let me know your thots lol. if you enjoy western marvel aus, please check out some of my other works. i have a one-shot called 'me & the devil' and a mini-series called 'a dish served cold'! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

It was a windy autumn night when James Buchanan Barnes and his pack of vermin invaded Elkhorn’s Travelling Circus and Freakshow. 

There were scarcely few in the area who had not heard of Barnes and his gang of outlaws. From the moment your caravans had pulled across state lines, you had been warned not to cross Bucky Barnes or his dogs. The law did not concern itself with this place, a place so far west that civilization had been left behind. The memories of cities, people, and culture were a mere whisper on the winds, a fleck of sand in an endless desert. This place was ruled by barbarians, and Bucky Barnes was their king. 

You had heard stories of the fabled man. Some said he was the devil himself, that he sported horns and hooved feet. Others said his eyes were black as the night but reflected the light as if he were part beast. Those terrified people would recall his wrath and how his enemies were never afforded a simple, painless death. No, those who crossed the King suffered for their crimes. 

So when that twisted, cruel man of legend stood before you... You were surprised to find he was none of what he was rumoured to be. 

It had only been an hour since the nightly show had wrapped up, darkness falling quickly due to the colder months looming. The gang of outlaws had stormed your small campsite, locating your leader and employer, Duke Elkhorn, and demanding they be entertained! The candles had been lit, and the music was playing. The animals had been brought from their cages once more, and dancers and performers were laced back into costumes. Barnes had asked for entertainment, so you would provide it, lest you find yourself dead in a ditch. 

Thankfully, you had not yet taken off your own outfit and makeup. A kohl to line your eyes; your lips painted red; hair loose with intermitten beading and braids. You wore large jewled earrings and layers of necklaces that partially covered the deep v of your neckline. Your dress was tightly fitted, your breasts were pushed upwards by the corset beneath, and your skirt was a deep green that swirled around your legs with each movement. Your small tent was filled with a haze of incense, lavish velvet, and silk used as draperies. Your tent was divided into two sections—your working space and your personal quarters. You had been checking your appearance in your cracked mirror when the ruffle of fabric alerted you to his presence. 

He stood with an unquestionable air of confidence, a cigarette in hand. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over, a cruel smirk playing across his lips. He was large and burly, with muscular forearms that bulged against the fabric of his sleeves, which had been pushed up to gather at his elbows. Blood stained his collar and sleeves, and a gold pocket watch was tucked into his vest. His dark hair was windblown, bits peeking out from under his black, cattleman hat. 

As he flicked his cigarette, you realised his knuckles were bruised and split. A subtle splatter of blood across his cheek, smeared, as if somone had reached up and grasped his face in their dying moments. 

“Our mutual friend, Mr. Elkhorn, told me that if I was lookin’ for a pretty thing to come find ya.” His voice was deep when he spoke, gravelly and rough. It sent a shudder down your spine. Damn Elkhorn. You always knew he was a coward, even though he thought himself a big man. You and the other performers were not strangers to his temper and desperation. You all tended not to challenge it, as he could be a cruel man as equally as he could be fearful. 

“He weren’t lyin’ was he?” He lets out a low whistle, exhaling smoke. “How’s he kept you a secret for so long, huh? Guess mah boys don’t come pokin’ in the tents that often. Too busy pokin’ their bits into them dancer girls.”

You remain silent as he chuckles to himself. He eyes you greedily; his icy blue eyes are anything but discreet. You could feel how his gaze rested on the curves of your hips and breasts, watching how your skin moved with each breath. Desire was a strange thing—how easily you might shift from feeling confident and powerful to nothing at all. 

You certainly felt like a squirming idiot under his gaze. 

“I’m not a whore.” You speak up, though your voice is hushed, hesitant, or even uneasy. You knew men like Barnes would not take being denied well. If you thought Elkhorn’s brutality was something to fear, your knees would positively buckle before Barnes. 

Barnes barks out a laugh, his brows raising in something between delight and surprise. He strides towards you, grinning as you flinch back. “Yer employer seems to think differently.”

Your eyes slide closed as he reaches forward, a finger sweeping a strand of hair from your face to better look at you. You swallow hard as he chuckles, smoke blowing across your face. Teeth grit, you slowly open your eyes, a shuddering exhale leaving your nose as he runs a finger across your cheek.

“He’s a spineless excuse of a man.” You dare to bite back, your voice wavering, but you stand tall. His amused expression has morphed into one of intrigue. His actions falter; hesitation is clear in his demeanour. 

“He make ya do things ya don’t wanna do, darlin’?” The outlaw asks, his voice surprisingly genuine. He is still close to you, close enough that you can smell the tobacco on his breath and feel the vibration of each word in his chest. 

“Sometimes.” You admit, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze. He curses under his breath, rubbing his jaw in annoyance. Barnes backs off a few paces, putting out his cigarette on one of your sidetables. From your side view of his chiselled face, you see a muscle in his jaw tense. 

“Well, sweetheart. I ain’t in the business of bein’ with women who don’t want it.” He says with a roll of his shoulders. He has stalked over to your reading table, bruised knuckles white as he grips the back of your chair. 

You are at a momentary loss for words. You had anticipated being repulsed by this man, the one who repeatedly terrorised these lands and enabled his dogs to do what they wanted and take what they pleased. There was something strangely endearing about his care for your consent. 

“Well, I am glad to hear it.” You finally uttered. “Can’t say the same for some of your boys, though.”

A tense silence washes over the tent, and you almost immediately regret your words. Against your better judgement, you creep towards him. He doesn’t flinch away from your touch as your hands smooth over the top of his hands and wrists. Beneath you, he feels like stone, each tendon and muscle expertly chiselled like the statues you saw in the big cities back east. 

“Yer right. Pack o’ wild mongrels they are. Good for puttin’ folk in their place. I think I’ll get ‘em to pay yer employer a little visit. Remind him whose land he’s on.” 

Barnes goes to leave, pulling away from your touch. A wave of horror washes over you at his implication. You find yourself reaching for him again in an unexpected panic. Your hands latch around his bare forearm, tugging him back an inch. 

“Wait.” You shake your head, gripping his forearm. The outlaw looks back at you in curiosity. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt anyone else, sweetheart. Just him. ” He drawls, eyes darting to where you hold his arm. You drop it immediately, backing off. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“He will think your lesson is because I turned you down or because I wasn’t good enough for you.” You explain desperately. His eyes narrow, as if offended on your behalf. “Whatever you do to him, he will do to me twofold. As punishment. He is a cruel man, you understand?”

“Yer definitely not pleading his case well, darlin’.” There is impatience in his tone and ire that you could not even begin to comprehend. Your eyes flicker to his bruised knuckles, the splatters of blood. If Elkhorn found out, well, you would have to wear a veil for the rest of your life. Your face would be so mishapened and destroyed that you would bring fear into the hearts of anyone who laid eyes upon you. You would no longer be a fortune teller but a featured freak of Elkhorn’s sideshow. Men and women alike would pull faces, with children throwing food and rocks. The deformed woman— another beast in a cage. 

You have seen this fate play out too many times. Too many were lost to Elkhorn’s wickedness. 

“Please.” You beg. His brow arches and his adams apple bobs. 

You swallow nervously, then hesitantly step forward. With gentle hands, you take his forearm once more, guiding him to your reading table. “Just… I will entertain you for a suitable time. I can read your cards. Then, you can tell Mr. Elkhorn that you laid with me; embellish it if you wish.”

Barnes seems too intrigued to protest. 

He unbuttons his vest with a soft grunt, taking a seat at the table. His legs are spread wide in a domineering pose as he leans back into the seat with cool confidence. As you take a seat at the opposite end of the table, he reaches into his vest pocket. 

“So, how does this work?” He asks. You can tell he is irritated from the way his brow twitches and jaw muscles are still tense. He is playing along for your benefit, you realise. He is looking to you for amusement to stop himself from marching out of the tent and dealing with Elkhorn as promised. 

“I will shuffle the cards, then draw three. Each card has meaning, and all together, it will tell you the message you need to hear.” You explain. Barnes had pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one. You decline with a wave of your hands, instead taking the cards into your palm. He shrugs, lighting it with a half-interested sigh. 

As he inhaled and you shuffled, you noticed his interest lay closer to your exposed skin. Even if he had backed off per your request, it did not seem to stop him from undressing you with his eyes from the opposite side of the table. He seemed emnamoured by the layers of necklaces and how they clinked and rolled across your skin. 

As you shuffled, the first card fell out. His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip as he watched you work. You slid the escapee card onto the table, facedown on the red tablecloth. 

“Anything in particular that you want to hear, hm?” You ask. As you lift your gaze, you find Barnes enraptured by your movements, so much so that he has forgotten to take another drag. “Most people want to know about their careers… their families. Love.”

“I don’t believe in love.” He says, sucking in a breath. You tilt your head. He didn’t believe in love, no. He believed in lust. Desire. From the way his pupils were blown and his lips parted in awe, he was positively eating out of your hand. A second card falls. You slide it next to the first. 

“Business it is, then.” You breathe. The final card falls from the deck just as the words leave your lips. You put it in place, then place the stack of the remaining deck to the side. Barnes is transfixed as you lean your arms parallel to the table and tilt forward. “Flip one.”

“Does it matter which order?”

“No.”

With unwavering confidence, he reaches forward, flipping over the first in the row. Your gaze falls downward to view the card, a frown pulling at your lips. You examine the familiar figures on the card. Two figures stood on either side, naked and chained. Behind them, in the darkness, loomed a beast with claws, horns, and wings. The Devil. 

How fitting. 

Barnes seems to find it ironic as well, as he scoffs in disbelief. “Ya playin’ a trick on me?”

You look up at him. The tension in the small tent is as thick as the smoke that hangs in the air. “No. The cards tell the truth, if you want to hear it or not.”

You reach out, stroking a finger over the card.

“The figures, they are chained. They don’t want to be there, but if you look closely… their chains are loose. They could escape at any moment.” If Barnes had a snarky comment, he does not say. He hung on to your every word. “And the longer they remain, the longer they become more like the devil. He represents the darkness within them, their shadow selves. It is the evil within you—the short-term pleasures—to ignore the long-term pains. Instant gratification. Greed, violence. You think you have free will, but you have sold your soul to the devil.”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know darlin,” The outlaw says with a chuckle. You notice that his shoulders have relaxed, a cool amusement embodying him. 

You hold his gaze. “Next card.”

His fingers brush yours as he flips over the centre card. The King of Pentacles. 

“The Devil and now the King? You’re spoilin’ me, sweetheart.” He chuckles. 

You eyed the card. The king sat upon his lavish throne, surrounded by wealth. You tap your nail across the yellow pentacle symbol, humming in thought. “King of Pentacles. It represents wealth and abundance. He has influence and is a skilled leader.”

Your head tilts. “It’s a warning.”

“A warnin’? Sounds like a good card to me.” 

“The king has all that he wants. An abundance of wealth. Everything he touches turns to gold, like King Midas.”

“King Midas?”

“It’s an old tale. One of caution. About a king who was blessed with the power to turn anything he touched into gold. His kingdom flourished with wealth, but he soon found himself to be unhappy. He could not eat, as any food that touched his lips turned to gold. He could not know the comforts of the flesh, for the women would also turn to gold. Everything he once cherished…gone. Then, one day he lost the one thing he loved most, his daughter. She kissed her father upon his forehead and instantly became a statue of gold.”

“I would be a far richer man if I were this…King Midas.”

“But don’t you see? You are him. You are a king who is flush with wealth; your influence is strong. Your people flourish. Everything you do and everything you touch becomes profit. But at what cost? How much more will you lose? How much more will you give up for greed?” You finger turns to point at the Devil card. His lips are set in a straight line as he scowls at you. 

“You best be careful now.” He warns. You shudder, leaning back in your seat, motioning for him to flip the final card. 

You stare down at the table, your breath held in horror. The figure in the card sits up in bed, hands to their face in anguish. Decorating the wall behind them are a row of swords, two of which could be seen to be piercing through the figure. Stabbed through the back. The frame of the bed is carved, illustrating two figures fighting. Nine of Swords. 

Your mouth feels dry as Barnes peers at you expectantly. “Well?”

You can’t find the words; your brows are scrunching as you try to find the best way to articulate the meaning without triggering the brooding outlaw’s wrath. Your finger taps on the table, and you clear your throat, squirming in your seat. 

“Nine of Swords.” You utter quietly. “The figure… they are troubled by their own thoughts. Their worries, speculations… so much so that they manifest it into reality.”

Your fingers trace over the fighting figures. “You worry of a rising conflict.”

You ghost over the swords next. A backstabbing. 

It was all very clear to you how it all intertwined. Barnes was a man possessed by evil and greed. He had sacrificed much to accumulate his wealth; like King Midas, he had all the gold he could need, but at what cost? His followers, his people—they were afraid. Weary of their cruel leader. A coup was in the works. Jealousy brewed within his men; all they knew was evil, so all they could give was violence in return. 

“A betrayal.” You breathe. Your eyes snap up to meet his. His pupils were no longer blown, instead replaced with an icy rage. 

“How do ya know this?” His voice had dropped, low and threatening. His cigarette was discarded, flecks of burning ash glowing across the floor. His shoulders were tensed, straining against the fabric as he began to loom over you, slowly standing from his seat. 

You shrunk back. “I don’t, I just read the cards—” 

You let out a shriek as Barnes gripped the table, flipping it in one solid motion. The cards fluttered to the ground around you, the glossy paper flickering in the low candle light. You recoiled in your seat, limbs trembling as Barnes stood over you. 

“Did Rumlow put you up to this, huh? I know what him and his little pack of vermin have been whisperin’.” He spat on the ground beside you, and you flinched back. Barnes reached down, gripping your throat as he forced you to look up at him. 

“I don’t know anythin’. I swear—” You begged, tears prickling at your eyes. 

Barnes scanned your face, then released you with a huff. You scrambled away, retreating to the furthest corner of the tent. Barnes waved his hand at you with a sigh, re-buttoning his vest and straightening his shirt. 

“I’ll give ya the benefit of the doubt, darlin’. But if I find out you’ve been lyin’...I’ll kill ya myself. Ya understand?” 

You nodded wordlessly, whimpering as the outlaw marched out of your tent without a glance back. 

—

“Where is she?” The enraged roar of Bucky Barnes sent a nauseating wave of panic through your body. 

A couple weeks had past, and Elkhorn’s Travelling Circus and Freakshow were wrapping up their stay. Duke Elkhorn wanted to push further west, bring entertainment to the drivers and rustlers of the far reaches of the country. Within two days, you were set to leave this awful place and flee the clutches of Barnes and his boys. 

Well, it seemed that had been hopeful thinking. 

You were in your tent, in your personal quarters. You had pulled shut the draperies to allow yourself privacy. The strong men, slick with oil and always sporting toothy grins, were always eager to deliver you water to bathe in. It had become a sort of ritualistic routine of yours to undress and wash the makeup from your face. After hours of sitting in a stuffy tent stinking of incense, it was a relief to wash the smell from your body. 

You wore a silk robe, loosely tied at the waist. It had been a gift from a patron back east—some rich city boy who had a fascination with you. When Barnes crashed through your draperies into the back of your tent, chest heaving with a livid look in his eye… you froze. You were perched on a stool before your cracked mirror, pulling a brush through your long locks of hair. 

You stumbled to your feet, stool knocked to the ground. 

Barnes was covered in blood, his shirt so drenched that it clung to his skin. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his teeth were bared in a growl. The blood was still fresh on his arms and neck, the liquid glinting in the candlelight. He had not bothered to wear his hat; instead, his hair was messy, with a splattering of blood across his cheek.

“I told ya I would kill ya myself.” The outlaw snarled. 

You backed away, back meeting the tent wall. “I didn’t do anythin—”

You were cut off as Barnes marched forward, large hands wrapping around your throat. He squeezed tightly, a breathless whimper escaping your mouth.

“How did ya know?” He demanded, his face twisted into a look of rage. 

You claw at the front of his shirt, sticky blood coating your palms as you struggle. 

“Ya knew about Rumlow. Ya warned me of a betrayal.” 

He releases the pressure on your throat, and you meekly gasp in air, nails digging into his shoulder as you try to keep your knees steady. 

“I didn’t know, I just said what the cards showed—” You rasp. Barnes doesn’t seem pleased by your answer, jaw muscle ticing. 

“I don’t believe in yer magical horseshit. I know it’s all tricks and acts. How did ya know?”

“The cards aren’t magical. Each card has a meaning that can be understood in different ways, it’s my job to apply them to whoever walks into my tent. The cards just reveal thoughts you have not quite spoken aloud—ideas at the back of your mind. They ask you to confront your inner self. You knew Rumlow was a traitor before the cards, you had a suspicion, but you did not act on it until prompted by the cards.” You wheezed out. The outlaw slowly releases your throat, his face controrting into something closer to frustration than rage. Your palms brace flat on his chest as you steady yourself against him. 

“Deep down, you already knew he was a traitor.” You reiterate. 

“You’re a fuckin’ witch.” He breathes, then runs a hand through his messy hair. Blood streaks across his forehead, clumping his strands of hair. His head tilts as he looks down at you. His face has relaxed, as if a silent clarity had overcome him. “Even if ya deny it… ya did warn me.”

You clear your throat, hand raising to your neck as you brush your fingers over the tender flesh where he had gripped you. “You warned yourself.”

He stares down at you, then frowns guiltily. “Apologies, darlin’. I shouldn’t have done that to ya.”

You believe him.

You hold your breath as his fingers briefly skim over your neck. His gaze falls deeper, his eyes following the curve of your breast that was half-exposed by your robe. The fabric was bunched into a deep v, leaving the swell of your breasts, sternum, and skin down to your belly button exposed. The outlaw sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, then stalks away with a frustrated growl. 

“Barnes—” you call to him softly.

“Bucky.” He corrects.

You catch a glance at yourself in the mirror. The silk robe hangs perfectly from your curves, blood smeared across your chest and neck. You suck in your own deep breath, sweeping your hair over your shoulders as you hesitantly approach the outlaw. He paced like the beasts Elkhorn kept caged up, endlessly forced to perform for cruel crowds. You knew what he needed. A delicate touch, a sweetness to lean on. 

“Speak to me.” You whisper to him, gentle hands guiding him to the edge of your bed. The canopy was draped with deep purple fabrics, furs, and blankets over the straw mattress. He silently obliges. 

“One of my boys, one I thought I could trust. He betrayed me. Thought he could make a little gang of his own and overthrow me from the inside.” The outlaw explains. His voice is stiff, and his posture is tense. You smooth a palm over his forearm, and your thigh presses against his as you sit closely together. 

There is a distant look in his eye as he stares past you at the wall of the tent. It shifts with the cool breeze outside, rising and falling like the night itself breathes. “I dealt with it.”

You cock your head to the side, hand running up his arm as you examine his face with a frown. “Dealt with it?” 

His eyes snap to yours, and your hand wavers in hesitation. There is a darkness in his eyes. His expression made goosebumps rise across your skin. You could only explain it as something primal, something caught between violence and arousal. 

“I made them pay.” He explains, his body twisting as he faces you fully. A bloodied hand raises, his thumb rubbing across your cheek as he cradles your face. “After two days, they begged me to end it. To end their lives.”

“And did you?” You dare to whisper back. His thumb traces inward, across your lower lip. 

“No.” He says simply. “I cut out their tongues so they could no longer beg. I made them pay.”

Your eyes must have been wide in shock because he chuckled, his hand sweeping through your hair. Then, with an uncharacteristic softness to his tone, he utters a question. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart thunders in your ears, a short gasp leaving you as your lips part. In all your travels, you have heard stories of women who could make men fall in love with them with just their eyes. Women who used their bodies and seduced their way to the top. Even violent men like Bucky had one weakness—a woman who showed them kindness. A woman who could momentarily take control. The men would let their minds drift away; the burdens were lifted, if only for a night. 

Heat pools between your legs. You nod, a hand reaching to stroke across his jaw. The two of you meet in mutual desperation and touch once gentle, now needy. His tongue brushes against your lips, effortlessly parting them as he licks into your mouth. A moan escapes your throat at the taste of his tongue.

Your hands find the front of his shirt, blindly unbuttoning as he grips your hair in one hand. The outlaw groans as his hand slides across your shoulders, pushing away the robe. Your top half is exposed, nipples have hardened, and silk has pooled at your waist. 

As your tongues tangle, Bucky tilts his head to gain better access to your mouth. Your gasps meet his as he moans heavily into your mouth. His hands trace along your body, one squeezing your waist and hips, the other coming to grasp your breast. 

With a tug, you pull his shirt free. The two of you part, your head lulling back as he paints sloopy, feverish kisses down your neck. A groan rises in your throat as you lean into him, one hand gripping his dark hair and the other beginning to palm him through his pants. 

His kisses move further down, head dipping as he licks a stripe across your breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking as you gasp and lean into him. The space between your legs is throbbing; a wet neediness rising. 

You clutch his thigh, squirming with desire. The stubble along his jaw prickles your flesh, and a shudder runs down your spine. Your hands find his, easing his grip on your hips as you slide off the bed. Lowering yourself to the floor on your knees, you sit between his legs. Bucky lets out a groan as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown, and his lips are swollen and glossy. Your hands trace up his thighs, and your quick fingers relieve him of his belt. 

“Let me.” You hum to him. You tilt your head, your cheek brushing against his knee. His adams apple bobs as he swallows hard. “I can make you feel good.”

You can see his bulge under the fabric. He eagerly helps you pull his pants down, his cock springing free already fully hard. You press a kiss to the tip. His cock twitches in response and a low moan vibrates in his chest. You look up at him through your lashes, biting your lip. He leans back, looking at the tent roof, as his chest rises and falls with a loud, satisfied sigh. 

There was a power that resonated in your chest, seeing the outlaw so vulnerable under your touch. He did not protest your lead, instead eagerly following your command. You take him into your mouth slowly, one hand running up his thigh as the other wraps around his length. 

You bob your head, feeling him tense with pleasure beneath you. As you come up, you whisper to him quietly. “Relax.”

As your tongue swirls over his tip, then down his broad length, you feel his hips rock beneath you. His hand comes to fist your hair, subtly guiding you as you take him fully into your mouth once more. You follow his needs, taking notice of each pleasured twitch or motion in response to your touch. His fingers tangle in your long locks of hair, tugging as you pull unimaginable, explicit sounds from the outlaw. 

“Fuck—” He groans above you, his breath coming in short pants. You hum in response, relishing the sensation of him falling to pieces beneath you. The spot between your legs was slick, and wetness was beginning to drip down your inner thigh. There was a selfish urge within you that desired to reach down between your legs to gift yourself some friction. 

You swallowed him down deeper, flattening your tongue against his ridgid length. His hips started to jerk, stronger than the previous gentle rocking. You could feel him growing undone, his breath coming shorter, and his nails desperately digging into your scalp as he desperately tried to guide your head deeper and deeper. 

You obliged, but only as you felt his cock twitch once more did you pull away fully. Not yet. You weren’t finished with him yet. The outlaw let out a pained grumble. His hands caressed your shoulders as you rose to your feet. 

“Darlin’—” Bucky protests, but you shush him. 

“How much do you want me, hm?” You ask him. He has propped himself up onto his elbows to look up at you. His cock was still erect, glistening in the candlelight from your saliva. 

“I want you.” He affirms.

“How desperately? Would you get on your knees for me? Beg for me?” You say it breathlessly. You take one of his hands in yours, pressing a kiss to the palm. 

His breath stutters. “Yes.” 

“Go on then.” As the words leave your mouth, your eyes flicker upwards. You look at him through your lashes.

“Please, sweetheart—” He whines. You cock your head to the side, peppering more kisses along each fingertip. 

“Louder.” 

“Please.” He begs. You smirk down at him wickedly, shifting closer. Your palm meets his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed as his elbows buckle beneath him. 

“Lie back.” You instruct, helping guide his legs so he lies flat along the bed. In one fluid motion, you straddle his waist, his silk robe still pooling around your hips. You lean over him, taking one of the waist straps of your robe. With slow breaths, you move the soft fabric across his bloodied chest, tracing each vein and muscle before finally grazing it across his nipples. He shudders beneath you, his grip bruising where he grasps your hips. 

“Say it again.” You breathe. You are embarrassingly wet as you sit perched upon him. 

“Please. I need you.” He obeys, and another wave of arousal washes over you. Only now did you give in to your selfish desires, dead rolling back as you ground your hips slowly. Your lips parted, a small mewling moan leaving you as you clenched around nothing. You flatten a hand over his chest, allowing him to help guide you as you raise onto your knees. 

With one gentle movement, you lower yourself onto him. Your wet heat engulfs him, and the two of you groan in unison. You feel yourself stretch around him, and you moan as you allow your body to take him in completely. His hands tighten their hold on your waist. 

Bucky looks at you with a slightly slack-jawed expression. “Fuck, sweetheart. I think I’m gonna make ya my wife.”

You manage a smile through your own arousal, your hand gliding up and down his chest as you move your hips in a grinding motion. You gasp out a low, “Oh yeah?”

His head tips back with a moan as you clench around him. You experiment momentarily, brows drawn and biting your lip, until you find a grinding rhythm that ignites a fire within you. Bucky meets you halfway, helping guide you with his hands still gripping your hips. Your head lulls forward, small panting gasps leaving you as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“I’ll make you beg for that too…Fuck—” You whine, and Bucky chuckles beneath you. He continues to help direct your hips, and your thighs begin to shake as you lower and raise yourself. 

A strangled cry leaves you as Bucky’s hand lowers, his thumb circling your clit. Pleasure spikes up your spine, your knees wobbling as you nearly double over at the sensation. His fingers swirl with purpose, pulling all manner of illicit words and sounds from your throat. 

“You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky hummed.

Just as you feel like sobbing from the pleasure, you cock your head to the side. With a deep breath, you tug Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him upright to meet you. The two of you clash, breath hot. His arms wrap around you, pinning you to his chest as he kisses you with a primal hunger. You moan into his mouth, your tongue sloppily moving against his as he begins to thrust vigorously. 

You could feel your climax building steadily within you, the peak of a tumbling wave that had not yet crested. Bucky was a panting, sweaty mess beneath you. He greedily kissed and sucked along your neck, head dipping as he ran his tongue along your collarbone. 

Your own head fell, teeth grazing across his neck. He tastes like salt and copper. You nuzzled your nose against his jaw, taking his earlobe between your teeth. Deep within you, you felt his cock twitch. 

You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your fingers tugging at his hair. That pulled a groan from him, the noise vibrating across your skin. With a devious smile pressed against his cheek, you lean in close to his ear. Breath hot, you whisper into his ear. 

“Come for me.”

As if he had been waiting for those exact words, he explodes within you. The sensation tips you over the edge, a thundering in your ears defeans you as your eyes roll back into your head. You clench around Bucky tightly, your body milking every last drop of him as he lazily ruts the last of his energy into you. 

The two of you pant, catching a breath as you both come to a halt. The outlaw nuzzles your neck with a content sigh, then laughs against your sweaty skin. 

“I wasn’t jokin’ earlier.” He finally speaks up, his voice somewhat more dignified now that he wasn’t a moaning mess beneath you. 

“Hm?” You respond sleepily, too fucked-out to be bothered opening your eyes. 

“I’m gonna steal ya away from here. Make ya my goddamn wife.”

Against your better judgement, you believed him.

[citruswriter]

Hey so how do you think bayverse leo would deal with having a s/o where they tend to get asked out by human’s a lot and s/o says no confidently every time and usually the human’s leave s/o alone nicely. Also flip side whenever s/o is talking about Leo casually, s/o is like gushing over how awesome their boyfriend is. And also how They don’t really meet any human men who act like him. His personality is extremely rare. S/o has a type and it’s not common. Maybe their standards are too high but they got lucky to find Leo?

High Standards

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Listen in with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: They/them pronouns, fluff, not proofread.

A/N: Ur literally so real for this. I think Leo definitely has a more rare personality.

"Dammit I forgot my lunch..." Your coworker muttered as she dug through her bag. Looking over you offered up one of your sandwiches. "You can have my other sand which if you want. Leo made them for me." You said and your coworker gave you a look of gratitude before grabbing the sandwhich and digging in. "Holy shit. This is actually so good, what the fuck?" She said, looking up at you and you giggled, sipping your drink. "Oh yeah. Leo's a wonderful chef. He's always trying new recipes with Mikey. It's super cute. His food is always so good, I can never get enough of it". You beamed, taking another bite. "You always talk about that man, swear to god. You two need to get married already". She said with a roll of her eyes but she smiled none the less. You giggled again, face heating up. "Oh please, trust me. I'd marry that man in a heartbeat if he asked me. He's definitely one of a kind. I don't meet many other individuals with his personality." You said casually, finishing your lunch and shrugging your shoulders. "I know. You constantly turn down anybody pining after you. Your standards are so damn high". She muttered.

"Well I deserve nothing but the best and Leo does exactly that. I'm so lucky to have him". You cooed with a lovesick smile. The door rang as a customer walked in. "Hello! What can I get for you today?". You asked before taking the man's order. He rattled off the ingredients for his coffee and you cashed him out as your coworker began to make it. "Say uh, whats your name?" He asked and you looked up. "(Y/N). Why?" You asked, tone suspicious. "Just wanted to know the name of the individual I was gonna take to dinner tonight." He said with a wink. You couldn't help but laugh, mouth behind your face. "Oh you're cute. No". You said gently but firmly. The man blinked at you, surprised. "Why not?" He asked and you grinned. "I'm taken by a wonderful young man". You said, giggling as you fiddled with the necklace that always hung around your neck, a golden chain with a brilliant blue sapphire. "Bet I could treat you better..." The man purred, leaning in.

"Highly doubt you could," your coworkers voice came as she slammed the hot coffee in front of the man, startling him. "They got standards so high you'd need professional climbing gear to scale them". She said, looking at you with a grin and the two of you giggled. The man rolled his eyes in anger before snatching his coffee up and sulking off and out of the store. "Seriously babes, I know you said Leo was a rather private man but I've got to meet this dude one day". She said with a quirked eyebrow and you hummed. "I'll talk to him about it."

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

You were greeted with a chorus of noises as you entered the lair. Mikey had taken Raph's sai and was now being chased while Donnie attempted to scold them. April and Master Splinter were quietly speaking over tea and Leo... Wait where's Leo? You thought. You glanced around for him before creeping to his room. "Baby?" You said softly before opening the door. You slunk inside, closing the door behind you. Leo was on his bed, book in hand and under a blanket. "Seems like your brothers are at it again". You mused, smiling softly as you approached him. "They always are." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him, head resting on your stomach. "Got your coffee," you murmured and Leo eyes the cup before gently grabbing it and happily taking a sip. "Good as always, blossom". He muttered before dragging you down into bed with him, you kicking your shoes off as he did.

"My coworker wants to meet you". You said and you chuckled when he groaned. "This is the eighth time she's asked". He grumbled, burying his snout into your neck. You laughed and kissed his head. "Yeah she had to come to my rescue after some guy asked for my number, teasing my high standards." You said, nails drawing patterns on his shell. Leo sighed and looked back up at you. "Do you ever wish I was human?" He asked suddenly and you raised your eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. "Not really. I don't really care if you're a mutant or a human". You answered and Leo grumbled, setting his coffee down before burrowing himself into you. "Why do you wish to know, beloved?" You asked, gently picking at the knot in his mask to pull it off. He let you, relaxing into your touch as you rubbed his neck and shoulders. "I don't know... So many humans seem to fawn over you. Sometimes I wonder what you see in me". He confessed.

"Leonardo I fell in love with you because you treat me well. Because you're kind-hearted and a gentleman. Because you love with your whole heart and do your best to protect those you love". You said, thumb brushing against his cheek bones. "Leonardo you're everything I want and more." Leo placed his hands down to lift himself, hovering over you and staring into your eyes. "I love you so much," he whispered before kissing you gently. You hummed and kissed him back, hand moving to cup his face. "I love you too, darling".

A crash was heard from the living room along with the sounds of Raph's shouting and Mikey's feral giggle. "You should probably go deal with them." You mused, Leo groaning as he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed. "You're probably right." He replied and you drug yourself up to go follow him. You couldn't help but watch in amusement as Leo mothered his younger siblings. At some point Leo came back, grumbling about how they were such children. "You'd make a good dad, you know". You murmured, splaying your hands on his plastron. Leo looked at you in shock and you looked away, flustered but Leo just grabbed your face and kissed you. "I think you'd be a good parent too". He said softly and the two of you just stood there looking at each other with utter adoration.

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee mino x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n panics a bit, cheating mentioned

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -> AMERICA? (wc: 617, 12 screenshots)

"Happy birthday, Y/n!"

Games and snacks are set up in your living room with string lights put up around the perimeter to light up the room. Your new shark plushie sits squished in your lap as you battle it out with Han on Mortal Kombat (not your first choice, but hey, it was fun). Minho steals the controller from you and you're about to argue, but the devilish smirk on his face has you blushing and giving him a playful smack on the shoulder instead.

There are board games and video games played for hours on end, the bowls of food dwindling severely as the night goes on. Apartment 143 is filled with laughter and love, and you've never been more grateful for the people around you. NingNing squeals with joy as you open her gift, a handmade necklace with your initials on it to match her own that she wore tonight. You almost cry, knowing it's a remake of the ones you made for your tenth birthday, the first you spent with her. After all your gifts are opened, Minho leaves to get the cake.

Hyunjin leans over to you, tossing an arm around your shoulder. "I'm gonna miss this when you're in America."

Fuck. No one breathes with how silent the room falls at his words, your own getting caught in your chest. Avoiding eye contact with those around you, you try and think of something to say and fail. You can feel your face turning red, feel your breathing picking up and chest getting tight. Tears are welling in your eyes and before you can realize, they're falling.

"America?" Minho stands at the island with a lighter in his hand, all candles lit up and casting a warm glow on his lower face.

"I-" You swallow thickly, unable to speak, unable to take a deep breath. You break free from Hyunjin and run to your room.

Cool wood against your back, blanket on your bed, your perfume. Think of things that are familiar. The softness of your slippers, Doongie purring in the corner, warm arms around you-

Warm arms around you.

"Shhh," Minho brings you into your bed, tucking a blanket up to your chin. His chest is fully pressed against your back, taking deep breaths for you to mimic. "You're okay. Breathe."

It takes a few tries, but your tears have run dry by the time you've taken a few successful breaths. You're tired, eyes shut and limbs heavy. Usually, the feeling of breath on your neck would irritate you, but feeling Minho is reassuring. He deserves to know.

"I got offered a chance for a promotion, but it's in America," You announce.

"That's... that's great Y/n," Minho replies quietly. "You should be proud of yourself."

"I haven't gotten it yet-"

"But you will," You turn around in his arms, nose touching nose. "You're a great writer, I've read your stuff, and you're familiar with the dance piece already because of Lily. You're going to get this, there's no way you won't."

He tucks a hair out of your face, hand staying put at your jaw and eyes flickering down for just a moment, enough to say I want to, do you?

"Minho," You exhale, meeting his sight.

"Y/n."

"Thank you for believing in me."

For a moment, you both just lay there in each other's company before Minho urges you to turn around. When you do, he pulls you closer so your back is against his chest and your breathing pattern matches his. You think you can hear shouting outside for a minute, then a door closes and it's silent, but all you can really focus on is the feeling of Minho.

notes -> sorry for the long wait 🥲

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @puppyminnnie

@tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta

@borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer

@babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw

@s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @stayatinykatsy @ilovejeongin007

@btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers

@catchingskzzzs @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa

@wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13

@palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa

@lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[n1ght0f-nyx]

I absolutely NEED #7 with pert'ah

Like reader realizes they love him, and he loves her. Like maybe it's been a year since she was sold and she wants the anniversary to have happy memories? Obviously do whatever you want i love your writing 🥰🥰🥰

woven bonds pt 5!

i had my parts wrong the whole time lmao

pert'ah x fem reader

thank you for the request because i was completely clueless with what i was going to write for this

tags/warnings- arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, you finally confess your feelings to big man

also, feel free to request non-woven bonds-related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support I've gotten over the last month!

The sunlight was warm against your skin as you sat by the window, looking out at the familiar sight of the orc encampment. You traced the edge of the wooden sill absentmindedly, your fingers brushing against the rough grain as your thoughts drifted. It had been a year now—an entire year since you had been sold to Pert'ah, given away like property in exchange for peace.

A deep breath escaped your lips. So much had changed in that time. You had been angry, bitter, scared at first, and who could blame you? Being taken from your home, your family, and everything you knew only to be married off to an orc craftsman—it wasn’t something you could easily accept.

But over the months, something had shifted. Slowly, and perhaps without you fully realizing it at first, your feelings toward Pert'ah had softened. He was kind, even when he didn’t have to be. Gentle, despite his massive size and tusks that had once terrified you. He always tried to make things easier for you, in his own quiet way.

Today, the one-year anniversary of your marriage, brought back a flood of memories. Not just the pain and fear from that day, but also the small, tender moments that had happened since. Moments like when he’d bring you small gifts, things he made with his own hands—jewelry, pottery, even tiny, intricate carvings. He never pushed you, never asked for anything in return, though you sometimes saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes when you remained distant.

You sighed, resting your forehead against the cool windowpane. Maybe it was time to stop being distant.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Pert'ah stepping inside. He paused when he saw you, his gaze flickering with the faint hint of surprise before settling into his usual calm expression. He carried something in his hands, though you couldn’t quite see what it was yet.

“You… here,” he said, his voice as gentle as ever. “Good.”

You gave him a small smile, a gesture that had become more natural over time. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Pert'ah’s steps were slow and careful as he approached, and when he finally came closer, you could see the item in his hands. It was another of his handmade gifts—a necklace this time, with a pendant shaped like a small leaf, carved with meticulous detail. The metal had a soft shine to it, catching the light from the window.

“I make this,” he said, holding the necklace out to you. His thick fingers were surprisingly delicate as he offered it. “For you. One year today… yes?”

You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat as you took the necklace from him. It was beautiful, and like everything else he made, it was created with care and thought.

“One year,” you echoed softly, your fingers brushing over the pendant.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the weight of the unspoken tension settling between you. Pert'ah shifted slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“I know… hard for you,” he said, his voice halting, almost as if he were choosing each word with great care. “This life… not what you want. But… I want to make you happy. Try, even if… not always right.”

Your heart clenched at his words. He wasn’t wrong. You had been stubborn, holding on to the past, even when he had shown nothing but patience. But now, looking at him, standing there with the necklace in his hands and the sincerity in his eyes, something inside you broke. You couldn’t deny the truth anymore, not to yourself.

You loved him. You had fallen in love with Pert'ah—slowly, unexpectedly, and despite everything. He was your husband, not by choice, but he had become so much more than that. He had become your partner, someone who truly cared for you, even when you weren’t sure if you could care for him.

You stepped closer, taking the necklace and placing it gently on the table. Pert'ah looked at you, his brows knitting together in confusion, but you didn’t speak. Instead, you reached up and placed your hands on his broad chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

“Pert'ah,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I know it’s been hard for me. But… I want you to know… I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve always tried to make me happy, and I—I see that now. I see you.”

His eyes widened slightly, the confusion slowly giving way to something softer. He stayed silent, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, gathering the courage to say the words that had been building inside you for so long. “I love you, Pert'ah.”

The silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever, but then, slowly, his expression changed. His large hand came up, gently resting on the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in the most tender way. It was a simple touch, but it carried so much weight.

“I… love you too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “From… long time. But I wait. Didn’t want… to push.”

Tears stung your eyes as you leaned into his touch. “You never pushed. You’ve only ever given me time.”

Pert'ah let out a low, relieved breath, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. “I want you to be happy here. Even if… you want to go, I… I let you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. The idea that he would let you go, even after everything, out of love, broke something inside you. But you didn’t want to go. Not anymore.

“I don’t want to go,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I want to stay here. With you.”

He gazed at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips—a rare, genuine smile that you had only seen a few times before.

“Then you stay,” he said softly, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “You stay with me.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in the warmth and comfort of his presence, letting the moment settle between you. This was what you wanted—what you had come to realize over the past year. Not just peace, but happiness. And it was with him.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, you stayed there in his arms, the quiet promise of a future together settling over you both. It wasn’t a perfect beginning, but it was real. And for the first time, you were ready to embrace it.

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose II (Sinclair daughter!reader)

Hello everyone, this is the second part of a new Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

This is the direct continuation of this.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings : No proof reading, angst, mentions of a boy groping, touching and wanting to rape reader, killer!reader, violence, blood, anger, manipulation.

Your grandfather and grandmother were killers. 

Your father and uncles were killers. 

Even if you didn’t know about all of this yet, it was written in your blood, in your DNA. You were born to be a killer too. You were born with this rage and with this skill. You were born to be something else than just normal. 

You weren’t a lost little girl anymore.

You were 16. 

You were doing your best to have the life your adoptive parents wanted you to have; you were good at school, you had friends, you were going out to parties. You were mute so things could sometimes be a bit difficult, but you were enjoying watching people in silence. You knew everyone’s secrets and dramas. You knew people’s weaknesses and desires.

So you knew when John came to greet you one morning, he didn’t have good intentions towards you. 

“Hello sweetheart. It’s been a little while since I've noticed you. We’re in the same maths class by the way. You remember me?” he said and you nodded to let him know you did remember him. He brightly smiled “Awesome. So, my friends are organising a party on Friday night and I’d love you to come with me” he offered.

You licked your lips and leaned into your seat, wondering what to do. He was towering over you and everything in his gestures showed he was acting like a predator. He probably thought that since you were mute, you would be a very easy prey.

You weren’t too happy to put yourself into danger, but at the same time you were bored out of your mind and your parents would be happy if you would go out with a boy. It would be another proof that you were settling in your life and that everything was going alright. And as long as you were wearing your sun necklace, you weren’t afraid for yourself. 

You finally nodded again and his smile turned into a smirk.

“Brillant, girl. See you on Friday’s night. I’ll come get you at your place” he said before leaving. 

He really wasn’t interested in you in a good way. 

You neither.

Your mother was really excited for you so she helped you get ready for what she was calling a “date”. You dolled up like you were supposed to before leaving the house without feeling anything. Your parents reminded you to be careful. 

Little did they know that at the instant you got into John’s car, he placed his hand on your thigh and groped you. You softly pushed him and gestured for him to drive to the party, which he finally did.

You were annoyed. 

Once at the party, he quickly greeted the people he knew, keeping you by his side like you keep a pet. You hated it. You started to get angry. It was a quiet anger you knew a little too well. You did everything to keep it manageable inside your heart. You couldn’t have a crisis here, in front of those people you were going to school with. You didn’t want your parents to get you to the doctors again.

You kept a smile on your face, even when he rushed you upstairs and found the closest empty bedroom he could. He hushed you inside, before locking the door behind you two.

“Ah finally alone, baby” he mused

You knew what his intentions toward you were but you weren’t afraid, you were oddly calm as you watched his every move. The fact that someone would want to hurt you and use you was making you burn with anger now. You had never felt so full of rage, and yet it was the cold madness of a killer that was taking possession of you. You knew what was going to happen, but you also knew you weren’t the prey. 

Your father and uncles started to teach you how to take care of yourself, how to kill, even if they never said it was for killing. It was always to protect yourself from “the bad people of this hostile world”. You had continued to learn how to fight without your parents knowing.

And even if you had never shed blood before, you were ready. The rage was too strong to make it stay inside of you. You smiled as the boy came closer to you, clearly not realising he was the mouse, and not the cat. He touched you and you let him do it, at first. 

“I knew you were going to be a good girl” he murmured to you and you hummed in answer. You gently grabbed him by the hair before your grip tightened and without a warning shot you moved to the side and brutally led his head against the wall. You hit him hard and he got disoriented. You continued to hit him over and over again.

You killed him. 

You killed him violently. And you felt good, oh so good. For the first time in years, the anger quieted down and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

You cleaned up the crime scene, your bloody hands and face, and his body before leaving it where it was. Your black dress was hiding the blood stains littering it but you knew you would need to burn it down once you would be back home. You went downstairs to dance with the others, as if nothing had happened. 

The body was found only when everyone thought it was time to go to sleep.

Of course the police interrogated you, but they couldn’t believe that such an innocent looking girl, who went through so much in her life already and was hence very soft, could have killed someone with such hatred. Your parents were so relieved nothing happened to you, not realising you were the danger. 

No one even found out who killed John.

And you found this very exciting.

So you continued to kill.

You realised you were very good at it, as if it was a gift running through your veins. Whenever you felt anger, you left your house at night for a “little walk”. You would easily find a new prey; anyone was good enough for it. It was also why the police couldn’t find you: there was no link between your victims, not even their profile. You killed for the sake of it, for the well being it finally gave you. You were known as the “serial killer of the shadows”. Your parents always worried when you were wandering around at night, not realising you were the danger prowling around the city. 

Killing wasn’t the only joy in your life, even if it was getting a big part of it. Around the same time you murdered John, you asked your parents to take up art classes. You wanted to do sculptures, to build things with your hands. You enjoyed doing pottery a lot. It was appeasing you because you could just focus on your hands and on your art. You were very good at it, mostly because you watched Vincent making art a lot so his gestures were written inside your brain.

You started to work on wax as well. You asked your parents to buy you the materials and they agreed. They were happy you were expressing yourself through art. It was certain you were doing better now. They had no idea that you simply still wanted to be Sinclairs’ heir. You wanted to find them again one day, and to prove to them that you were the only daughter they needed. You wanted to come back home more than anything. You knew your "real" father would understand your anger. You weren’t too sure if he and your uncles were killing the tourists, but you were certain they wouldn’t judge you for your night activities. You would be free in Ambrose… You just needed to find your way back to it.

And one day, it happened.

“So, Y/N, where would you like to go during the holidays this summer?” your adoptive father asked you as you were all having dinner in the living room. You had meant to talk to them about your biological family for a quite a while now and it felt like the perfect moment.

“I want to go in the South of the country” you replied and your parents were surprised you seemed so determined about it

“Why there?” you mother hummed

“Because I come from there… I want to find where I come from. I want to find what happened to my mother… I mean I want to know if she was right about my father”, you explained

“I’m not certain this is a good idea, hon” your mother instantly replied and you pouted, disappointed but ready to fight for it

“Why not?”

“We… We haven’t told you about all the stories we heard about your family. Your mother had the time to say quite a lot about them and the fact you weren’t even officially existing for the State is proving a lot. You were a child so you probably don’t remember or didn’t understand what was going on…” she babbled

“What you mother means is that they are dangerous people and we can’t just go find him” your father added

“This is unfair. I need to know my past. If you were at my place, wouldn’t you want to know the truth?”

The discussion stopped there for the moment but a few days later, your parents offered you a deal. The plan was you would all go to the South of the country for some holidays. You would try to find the region where you came from, but you wouldn’t try to find your father. You agreed. 

The problem was you didn’t know exactly where Ambrose was, but you had found your uncle Lester’s town on a map. At least you thought you remembered it was. Your mother and you found somewhere nice with a cute little hotel around the area you wanted. You hope to find your way back home… and to find your family again. You had changed quite a lot and you weren’t too sure your family would recognise you. However, you were still wearing your sun necklace.

You thought the day of the trip would never come, as you were so excited about it. You could feel in your bones that you were finally coming back home, so many years after having left it. Your parents were a little bit on edge, but they loved you too much to cancel the holidays. Your mother had a very bad feeling about all of it.

However, once on the roads, you couldn’t help but panic when the car went by on the dusty roads without going by the advertisements for the House of Wax. You remembered them by heart as you saw them quite a lot when you were in Lester’s truck. You worried you would come by close to Ambrose but not close enough. You worried you wouldn’t find your family. You worried everything was lost forever. Your adoptive parents noticed how you looked around and they asked you if you were alright.

“I come from here” you admitted to them as you signed. They exchanged a very concerned look at those words.

“Are you sure? You recognised this place? Your mother asked you in a soothing manner

“Not really, but the roads were the same when I was a child. It’s not here, but it must be in this area. My family is so close by now” you replied

“Hon… We are your family” your mother frowned

“You know what I mean… I want to see them, I want to see my dad again” you shyly signed, knowing your adoptive parents wouldn’t be happy about it. They did exchange another look, full of concern.

“We already talked about it… We want you to be safe and… your biological father didn’t seem like a good person. We don’t want you to meet up with him… and certainly not like that” your mother continued as your father stopped the car and parked.

“You don’t know him, we don’t know if my mother said the truth. He never hurt me when I was a child” you said

“You didn't know him either. What your mother did…” she trailed off

“But now we’re here, we can have a look around” your father offered to your mother’s dismay. 

They argued in whispers until you left the car. 

You recognised the violent heat of the sun hitting you, you recognised how silent the road was, you recognised how easy it was to get lost and in need of help here. You had to be close to Ambrose, you could feel it in your heart.

“Let's get back in the car, honey. We’ll go to the hotel we booked and we’ll talk some more about all of this. It’s understandable you want to find your father, even just out of curiosity… But you cannot just come over like that. You don’t know how he would react, what he became after you left… We need to respect a process” your mother rationalised and you were forced to agree with her.

A little voice inside your head wondered what would happen if your family didn’t recognise you? Would they kill you like they probably got rid of the tourists during your childhood?

And yet, you prayed for the car to stop working or for Lester’s truck to appear on the road. Unfortunately, you safely travelled to the hotel. You all ate at a restaurant before deciding to go to sleep and to talk about everything the day after. Your parents thought it was better to rest and have a good night sleep before doing anything. They might hope you would calm down as well.

You didn’t. You talked about finding your dad right at breakfast.

“I could find my father” you said

“It has been said that you didn’t know where you came from exactly and that you didn’t even know your father’s name.” your mother said “Did you lie about all of this? Did you try to protect him somehow?” she continued and you hated to be trapped in your own lie

“I didn’t know back then. But when I saw the roads, I remembered” you replied

“Makes sense,” your father nodded and gently smiled at you.

“I don’t like this,” your mother whined. She had always been very protective of you and she felt something was off.

“Look, darling, we’re going to find a solution for everyone to be happy.” your father continued to smile “The two of you are going to have a nice day out together and I’m going to look for your biological father. If you can just show me on the maps where he used to live… And if I can find him, I’ll talk with him and make sure he is good enough to meet with you. How does it sound?” he offered

“It’s rushed! He was a violent man, how do you know he won’t hurt you, hurt her?” your mother continued 

“If you don’t have news after an hour, you’ll call the police. Y/N needs to realise who her father is to move on in her life. That’s normal. Everyone needs to know and understand where they come from. And even if it’s rushed, even if it doesn’t sound like a good plan, she needs it now. We have to try.” your father replied. 

“This is too risky. We can ask for the administration to help us with this… Especially if he is a bad man. It’s indeed important but we need to take our time.” your mother argued back so you started to cry. 

It was always your most efficient weapon. 

It was settled then.

Your adoptive father would look for Bo Sinclair.

--

Part III

--

Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210

[tiaramania]

Tiaras of the future Queen Mary

I love a good list and @duchessofostergotlands requested one of the tiaras that Mary will wear as queen. As usual I had a lot to say.

Crown Jewels

Queen Caroline Amelie's Emerald Tiara

Denmark is unusual among modern monarchies in that they still have wearable jewelry in their crown jewels. There is a diamond set, a pearl and ruby set, and of course the beautiful emerald parure. This tiara cannot be taken outside of Denmark and is only worn by the queen. I really hope Mary wears it for her first official portrait as queen.

Major Tiaras: Non-Restricted

Princess Louise's Pearl Poiré Tiara

This tiara has only been worn by Queen Margrethe during her reign but previously was worn by crown princesses and princesses. It is a very important tiara but I wouldn't mind Queen Mary loaning this one occasionally to other people like Christian's future wife.

Queen Désirée's Ruby Parure Tiara

Queen Ingrid kept this tiara even after her husband passed and then left it to Crown Prince Frederik for his future wife so it was never worn by Queen Margrethe. I expect Crown Princes Mary will continue wearing this tiara for now as the parure was extensively remodeled to suit her. When Christian marries, she may decide to pass it on to his wife establishing it as the de facto crown princess tiara, keep wearing it herself, or ideally keep wearing it while also loaning it the future crown princess.

Minor Tiaras

We don't yet know how Queen Margrethe will handle passing on her jewelry. In other countries with recent abdications, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands still attends tiara events but Queen Paola of Belgium and Queen Sofia of Spain do not. If Margrethe decides to keep attending them she may hold on to some of these for a while.

Grand Duchess Louise of Baden's Palmette Tiara

This isn't my favorite tiara in the Danish vault because of the way it ends so abruptly instead of tapering off. Queen Mary's going to have to pull off some great tiara hair to cover that up.

Crown Princess Margaret's Turquoise Daisy Tiara

Queen Mary looks good in turquoise but I'm really looking forward to seeing this tiara on Princess Isabella and Princess Josephine.

Queen Ingrid's Floral Aigrette Tiara

I've loved the way Queen Margrethe played around with this tiara but I am looking forward to Queen Mary putting it back on a tiara frame like Queen Ingrid wore it.

Queen Margrethe's Naasut Tiara

Queen Margrethe was given this tiara by Greenland in 2012 and I have been waiting for day it is worn by Queen Mary. I think the delicate gold flowers are really going to look great against her dark hair.

Personal Tiaras

Wedding Tiara

Queen Margrethe gave this tiara to Crown Princess Mary as a wedding gift and Mary later had optional pearls added.

Ruby & Spinel Necklace Tiara

Mary bought herself this tiara at an auction and debuted it 2015. I think it was a very smart move because it was only 8050 EUR (probably less than some of her gowns) and it will be a great piece for her children to wear in the future.

Every country and monarch handles jewelry a little differently. Queen Margrethe gave each of her daughters-in-law a tiara but did not share any of her tiaras with them. She did share with her nieces (the daughters of her two sisters) when her sisters didn't have enough tiaras to loan them for events. I would like to see the future King Frederik X and Queen Mary change how the jewelry is dispersed.

First of all they need to stop giving away jewelry. The mainline has already lost the Queen Alexandrine's Diamond Drop Tiara to the Countess of Frederiksborg and Princess Dagmar's Diamond Floral Tiara to Princess Marie. Those are both beautiful, versatile tiaras that would have served the family well in the future. In the previous generation, Princess Benedikte was given Queen Sofia's Star & Pearl Tiara and her Floral Birthday Tiara made from other jewelry and Queen Anne Marie was given Crown Princess Margaret's Khedive Tiara and her Antique Corsage Tiara made from other jewelry. There's no reason to give away tiaras anymore to people whose descendants will have little reason to wear them.

Then to make up for not giving away any jewelry there needs to be more sharing! I don't want to see the same person wear the same tiara to every event. Queen Mary will have the Emerald Tiara exclusively and then may choose to keep the Pearl Poiré Tiara and Ruby Parure Tiara to herself but everything else should be shared among her daughters, daughters-in-law, and other members of the extended Danish Royal Family. It would make things so much more interesting.

[a-little-revolution]

where do you shop for clothes? I’m plus size so I know the struggle of finding cute clothes when you’re not shaped the way corporations think you should be, and I’m very curious how you approach it

Hello! I mostly thrift my clothing, since I'm poor and plus size - a big thing for me is layering and accessorizing. I love mixing patterns, materials and textures to give a sort of bog witch meets howls moving castle vibe! I especially love thrift stores that mostly older women go to, so I can get a lot of old fashioned jewellery and things.

Plus size-wise I go for a lot of high waist-ed skirts and dresses, I've pretty much completely ditched pants because finding ones that fit me was always a nightmare (plus trying them on always felt so triggering and draining). When I do buy pants I never go for jeans or tight fit ones, but rather ones with draw strings. Overall leggings are far more size inclusive and I can wear fleece ones in the winter!

Overall I go for fairly cheap pieces and arrange them in colour pallets that I adore, and add a lot of fake pearls, scarves, crystals and jewellery!

Photo description: a series of five photos displaying various outfits within my style. I am a little person with curly green hair (also purple in a couple photos), pointy eyebrows, a beard and gold facial jewellery. The first photo is a mirror selfie of me sitting in my wheelchair at a local thrift store. I am wearing a dark green frilly shirt with a dark blue Lolita dress over it, and a duo-chrome pearl necklace. In the second photo I am wearing red high waist pants with vertical stripes, a sheer orange floral shirt with the top buttons undone, with white and red pearl necklaces. The third photo is another mirror selfie in a book shop, I am standing with my rollator and wearing a dark green dress with a long sleeve purple button up under it. I wear a few necklaces and a black and grey striped tie tied into a non traditional bow. The forth photo was taken by a friend of mine while I am smoking CBD on our porch. I am wearing a purple button up, orange vest, green skirt and green jacket covered in buttons and patches. My jewlery included gold sun earrings, pearl necklaces, and a piece of citrine on a chain. I am wearing round glasses and stars drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off. The last photo is a mirror selfie in the men's washroom where I wear a more punk style - a black tank top over a black and white striped shirt, a black beanie, white pearls and black necklaces. Hearts are drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off.

[luveline]

hi!!! i really love your writing, i was thinking maybe i could request something for the steve zombie! au? maybe the reader and steve get separated (maybe the reader and eddie go outside of camp and don’t come back for a couple of days, so steve thinks something went wrong and maybe someone got to them) but after days they reunite and it all protective steve fluff? idk if you don’t like it it’s fine just ignore me hehe 🫶🏼

sorry this wasn't very angsty but there is fluff! ty for requesting ♡ steve zombie au. fem!reader, 1.4k

You and Eddie lie with an amicable space between you, though you've agreed to share a huge sleeping bag to conserve a modicum of heat. His hair touches your shoulder whenever he moves. 

"Why are you looking at me?" you ask. 

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly. 

"No. I… yeah, I'm okay." 

Eddie never tries anything, doesn't touch you beyond friendly pats on the shoulder or knuckle touches after a job well done. He's never given you any reason to worry, but Steve said he's a guy. He didn't think Eddie was gonna hurt you, but there was a possibility he'd flirt. All I'm saying is that it didn't take long for me to fall in love with you, Steve'd said, his hands in your waistband, tucking in your shirt. 

You laughed. Steve, you didn't like me. 

Well, not out loud. And I was dumb enough to miss how lucky I was for a while. Eddie's not that stupid. He's not gonna try nothing, but… You know, don't fall in love with him. Please.

You'd wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders and had him take your weight, impressed and in love at the subtle strength he used to keep you both standing. Don't worry. I won't. I never would. 

Not with Steve in this world. Even then, if Steve somehow met his demise, you're pretty sure you'd be done with love. 

"Worrying about loverboy?" Eddie asks. 

You're definitely worrying about loverboy. "I told him I'd be back in the morning. It's been a whole extra day. He gets– gets so worried. Honestly, it won't surprise me if he turns up looking for us."

"You've been apart?" 

"Two or three times." You wince, thinking about Steve the last time you'd been separated. How he'd put his hands under your arms and hugged you, even though you couldn't open your eyes. The time before, how he'd cried into your stomach, hands grasping blindly at your back. "I think he worries about me 'cos I'm kind of useless." 

"That's not true. Robin told me all about your psycho takeover." 

"She did?" you ask, covering your face with your hand.

"I wanted to know why she calls you killer." 

"That's pretty much the only time I've defended myself. He always does the hard work."

"If you're really that useless, why'd you come?" He turns on his side away from you. "You're fine. You've learned to fight just like the rest of us. Steve knows you can take care of yourself. He's probably sleeping like a baby waiting for you to bring him back his new jacket." 

You dig for the necklace Steve gave you so long ago under your shirt. You'd thought you lost it, having taken it off before bed the night you escaped the College, but he had it. He gave it back. The little diamond is hard between your fingers. You press it to your lips, wondering if he's really as okay as Eddie claims.

—

Steve lies on his back in the clearing, wishing he was dead. The anxiety is genuinely so bad he's agonised and prone. 

Robin laughed at him for worrying when you didn't show up in the morning as you planned to, but by nightfall she was equally worried. A day later, she sits cross legged by his head, her hand on his arm. She's feigning reading, her bottom lip nibbled raw. 

"You want some chapstick?" he asks. 

"Nah. Stings." 

He sits up feeling like someone's kicked him all over. "The brain is a stupid organ. I'm worried about Y/N, so sure, I get to feel like a jet engine fell on me."

"She's fine." He and Robin have been playing a game where one of them mentions you and the other immediately reassures that you're alive. He quite likes it. It makes it easier to breathe. "You need to chill out, that's all. Eddie had that fucking shotgun. They're not in any danger." 

"What if she fell and broke her leg or something? He's carrying her across the country like a backpack. That should be me." 

"What if he fell and broke his leg? You wanna go give Eddie a lift?" Robin asks, grinning. 

Steve thinks the worst part is that he misses you. He's so worried about you he could throw up (he almost did at breakfast, every mouthful cement thick), but he just hates turning to talk to you and finding empty space. He misses the way you smile, your tentative hand holding, even the way you look at him. He remembers the first time he realised you liked him, how your gaze had slowly gone from annoyed to admiring, how your eyes would catch on his arms or the corner of his mouth. 

He remembers wiping sleep from your eyes, how hot your cheek felt under hand, and the pit it opened in his stomach. It's a strange thing to notice someone's fallen in love with you by themselves. He had catching up to do. It's probably why he feels like he's on death's door whenever you're not around.

"I don't wanna give Munson anything. S'already stealing my girl, smarmy bastard. They ran away to be together."

Robin gasps. He thinks, Well, I was kidding, then, Holy shit they've actually run away together.

"Stevie!" your voice echoes. "Hey! I've been looking all over for you, why are you guys out here?" 

Steve's neck clicks like a Jacob ladder as his head whips up. The fear and anxiety drains from his body, a rapid exsanguination. You look tired but blissfully alive as you jog across the grass clearing, your backpack weighed down and your empty canteens rattling against your thigh. 

Steve trips over grass whorls to get to you. Your little laugh before he grabs you drives him crazy. 

"Where the fuck have you been?" he asks. 

"Got lost. Sorry. Love you," you say, rubbing your cheek against his, your hands bunching up his shirt. You smell like dirt, grass, and tent plastic. It's frankly the best smell in the whole world. He sniffs at you greedily.

"I thought you died," he says. 

"Yeah, I did. Eddie gave me sloppy CPR–" You screech as Steve sweeps your leg from under you and giggle as he holds you up, begging for forgiveness as he threatens to drop you. "Sorry, it was just so easy! You set it up for me!" 

You laugh as he drags a kiss along your jaw, his stubble scramming your softer skin. 

"I love you," he says, "even if you're seeing other boys."

"Never." You close your eyes and wait for a kiss. Steve's more happy that you expect one than he is to give one, which is saying a lot —he wants to kiss you bad enough to feel the phantom of it before he's closed the gap between you. 

He gives you way too many kisses. 

You push your head down into the crook of his neck and hold him tight. "Sorry I didn't come back when I said I would. Didn't scare you too much, did I? 

He was scared shitless. "No, it's alright. It's okay."

He takes your face into his hands and checks you're all in one piece. Same smile. Same dazzled squint when he kisses you. 

You leave his arms too soon for his liking. Robin waits patiently for her own hug, less so when you shed your backpack. She hugs you as it falls to the floor. 

"Miss me?" you ask into her hair. 

"Thought I'd be stuck with mopey Steve forever." Her insult doesn't land, her voice heavy with relief. "You know coming back in the morning doesn't mean any morning, right? Just checking." 

"Sorry, Robin. I missed you." 

"Eddie bad company?" 

"He's nice, he's just not you guys." 

Steve puts a hand on your back, fingers hooked in your belt loop. "Where is he?"

"Playing Peter Pan in the mess tent. I got you guys the best winter jackets ever. Though me and you are sort of matching, Steve." You look at him over your shoulder sheepishly. "Sorry." 

"The horror," he murmurs.