#You don't live that long without a few screws loose

[queeniecook]

I shall title this “Vampires are weirdos.”

[maximotts]

she hates her ⁘ w. maximoff x n. romanoff

brainrot is real and dangerous! This time it manifested in the idea of an enemies to lovers WandaNat AU in which sorority president Wanda and fraternity president Natasha simply can't stand one another, but Nat finds Wanda's weakness and exploits the fuck out of it. I'm planning to write more of them so I hope you all love these sillies in their enemies phase! P.S. if you know why I named this AU what I did, you're a real one 💖

Seven Things AU. masterlist :: Natasha lives to annoy Wanda so naturally, she plans the Spring Barbeque Night on the lawn of Wanda's sorority without asking and counts down the seconds until she comes down to complain

wc: 4k cw: 18+ only, minors DNI. warnings are clearly labeled, please don't add community filters. sorority!Wanda x fraternity!Natasha. smut. oral (n receiving). strap on sex (w receiving). cum strap. copious insults/hate sex. rough play/manhandling. overstimulation. degradation/humiliation. nat has a seriously filthy mouth and calls wanda lots of names. internal discussions of aftercare.

Wanda hated Natasha Romanoff.

She hated her messy red hair and the cocky way she walked around campus, how unshakably full of herself she always was, no matter how much of an asshole she was being any given moment. And she was constantly an ass, a chronic headache from the first day Wanda met her last year…

Currently Wanda hated Natasha’s heavy boots kicking her knees apart each time she moved them together even an inch.

“You want to get off on sucking my dick so bad, it’s pathetic.” Nat couldn’t stop her long groan and didn’t want to, grip tightening in Wanda’s loosely curled hair as she inched her strap further down the other girl’s throat.

If someone told her last month she’d have the most annoying girl she knew knelt in front of her like this, Natasha would’ve laughed them off; they could barely coexist in a room for more than a few minutes without one of them going off on the other.

They’d found a compromise in fucking each other speechless; mostly Wanda who, for all her holier-than-thou attitude towards the other woman, found herself repeatedly powerless for hidden quickies with Natasha.

Wanda could only claw at Natasha’s thighs, any possible harm dulled by the denim jeans Nat didn’t bother removing. She’d add how stupidly brutish Nat was to her ever-growing list of grievances if it didn’t turn her on so damn much.

The moment the fabric of her harness brushed Wanda’s cheek, they both shivered.

“I’m gonna assume no one’s managed to fuck this pretty mouth of yours this deep yet,” the redhead ground her hips against Wanda’s face slowly, letting her head roll back against the door, willfully ignorant to any discomfort the girl before her endured, “or maybe you’re too much of a bitch for anyone else to bother trying.”

Natasha let up and Wanda growled, disgusted gaze glaring daggers at her tormentor. “You don’t have anyone else to screw with, or have all the girls in town grown tired of your womanizer routine?”

“Fuck’s sake, shut up.” Shoving her forward was all too easy with Wanda caught off guard, burying her tip at the back of her throat so roughly Wanda gagged. Nat drove her hips back and forth at a brutal pace, laughing at the brunette’s sputtering, “That’s it, choke on my cock…”

The two were both too stubborn to break eye contact, Wanda’s wide green eyes watering with embarrassment and Natasha shamelessly getting off to her struggle.

She fucked her steadily, both hands now fisted in Wanda’s hair, the poor girl’s face growing pinker every second as she fought to hide just how much being used like this turned her on. It was no use, the sticky mess of the sorority president’s lip gloss and spit leaving kisses on her fraternity counterpart’s harness, sending Wanda into a dizzying frenzy of arousal that wrenched in the pit of her stomach- and lewdly dripped onto Natasha’s boot.

Oh how Natasha wished her phone wasn’t discarded on Wanda’s nightstand; she’d give anything to have photo evidence of their university’s golden student drooling on her strap and trying desperately to rub herself on her laces. “I bet if I shot a load down your throat you’d cum on the spot… wanna try?”

Nat finally let Wanda take a breath, yanking her away in favor of taking the thick toy in her hand, tapping the head onto the brunette’s already waiting tongue as she nodded desperately. She hadn’t bought this toy for anyone particular, never got much use out of it until she stumbled into Wanda’s secret a few weeks ago; now it was quickly becoming her favorite possession.

An accidentally perfect object to drive Wanda insane.

“Are you gonna let us keep our party on your lawn?”

The question snapped Wanda back to attention, suddenly aware of Natasha’s ulterior motives. There was a strange pang of hurt she felt, only for the briefest of seconds, to know what she was being used for, but it quickly morphed into keen anger. “Absolutely not! Go camp out with someone who actually likes you.”

“Stubborn bitch,” Nat muttered, knocking Wanda backwards. She was unsteady enough for her back to hit the floor with a painful thud, wincing as she met the hard wood of her bedroom. Admittedly, maybe that was a little too harsh, Natasha’s hand reaching out to inspect the girl before she caught herself, remembered who they were to one another, and her originally thoughtful touch became a slap for Wanda’s calf.

In an instant she was kneeling, dragging Wanda’s strawberry printed pajama shorts off to get a good look at her handiwork. They were still new to one another, having only really fallen into rage-fueled quickies, this was Natasha’s first time seeing the full effect she had on Wanda and damn if it wasn’t more intoxicating than all the beers she’d drunk tonight combined. “Pretty mouth and pussy, no wonder I’ve heard you’re good to fuck around with.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, doing her best to tamp down how hot she felt being openly inspected like this, ignoring the sparks she felt as Natasha’s hands parted and pawed at her bare thighs. “Don’t be gross, you pass yourself around more in one weekend than I’ve done my entire life.”

“So I know what I’m doing, Maximoff. Don’t forget I almost made you cum without a single touch just now.” If she cared enough Nat would’ve asked her how many people she actually had been with. Wanda had a reputation for being a tease of epic proportions, flirting cruelly with no intent of following through or, if you’re lucky, getting you off, but for as much gossip Nat heard, she couldn’t think of anyone who could say they’d slept with her.

In truth, the girl was picky, refusing to let anyone get farther than she thought she’d enjoy just as much as they did. Unfortunately Natasha not only met that standard, but rose far above it— the only reason she tolerated her insufferable nature each time they ended up like this. “But I didn’t finish, so get on with it. You’re already starting to bore me- ow!”

The last thing Wanda expected was a slap, stinging and wet, between her legs.

“Whenever you speak, you bore me, but I’m still here…” Her strap slid through the other girl’s cunt effortlessly, the weight of it offering the barest bit of much needed friction, but where Wanda raised her hips, Natasha held them down.

When the tip rested at Wanda’s waiting entrance, the shallowest of motions left her biting her lip to keep from begging. She couldn’t admit how badly she wanted this, how intensely she fought not to wrap her legs around Natasha and take the whole of her all by herself, to sate the persistent empty feeling she’d had since Nat pulled their hips together down on the lawn… “And you’re only here to get the answer you want so go ahead, try and convince me.”

Nat was too selfish to give Wanda time to adjust, pushing inside inch by inch while the girl below her gasped and balled her fists at her sides, too arrogant to grab onto Natasha’s stupid toned arms. But bottoming out felt like mutual heaven and as Wanda felt that cool, rough denim rub under her thighs, she gave in and let her legs clamp about her waist.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Nat muttered, drawing out slowly just to surge forward, quickly setting a pace so brutal Wanda couldn’t hope to keep up. “Would’ve let you use your fingers before if I’d known…”

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, eyes fluttering closed. She hated having to get this from someone she couldn’t stand, body betraying her in the presence of the person she wanted to be miles away from, but she forced her brain to submit along with the rest of her, taking her pleasure in a world where Natasha wasn’t a daily thorn in her side.

She needed to feel overwhelmed, overtaken, out of control— Natasha was the only person bold enough to give her what she was after. And she planned to use it to her full advantage. “No? Does perfect princess Wanda need to be fucked like a filthy slut?”

The woman was a mess of moans, doing her best to ignore Nat until calloused fingers gripped her jaw and yanked her back to reality. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me fuck you dumb.”

When their eyes met again, Wanda’s pupils were blown wide, flushed cheeks pinched together under Nat’s grasp, “I asked you a question, answer me or I’ll leave you here and let everyone outside know you’re locked in your room with your fingers deep in your tight cunt, dreaming of my dick.”

Natasha really wished Wanda wasn’t so fucking pretty with her breathy pants and tousled hair framing her face like a halo; it made sex so much harder not giving the girl exactly what she wanted. “Just fuck me, Romanoff. You have a party to get back to.”

“I do? So you’ll let us stay?” Wanda nearly threw a fit when Natasha stopped again, the thought of being denied twice in one night enough to leave her whining. She was someone people rarely said no to, things simply fell into place for her as she wished, but challenging, thick-headed Natasha… dealing with her was akin to rolling a boulder single-handed.

“Yes, yes fine! Keep your crappy party! Let me cum and you can stay the night for all I care-“ Her eyes were wide open now, focused enough to take in Natasha’s shit-eating grin before she pounded into her once more, faster and more determined now that she’d won.

The redhead never had trouble in bed, satisfying whoever she fell into bed with effortlessly; she was reluctant to admit it’d grown repetitive. So when she ran into a drunk and mopey Wanda stumbling down the hall of her fraternity a few weeks back and cornered her with intention to mock her nighttime walk of shame, Natasha was morbidly curious to hear her confess how sexually unsatisfied she was with such plain honesty.

She couldn’t have predicted Wanda ever being in her room, much less sprawling on her bed like she belonged there and bemoaning her plight. “Is it so hard to just cum on my face? You’d think they’d be excited, but nooo all I get is ‘are you sure that’s what you want?’ Of course I’m sure!”

Natasha was so rarely speechless, but of all possible statements, she’d never expected that one.

Maybe they wouldn’t have happened if Wanda’s guard wasn’t lowered by alcohol. If Natasha hadn’t been standing at the foot of the bed in gray sweatpants that so poorly hid the strap she’d been packing, matching sports bra showing off her toned stomach while she proudly proclaimed she’d have no issue granting Wanda what she was after. If Wanda hadn’t crawled across the mattress to Nat and kissed the taut skin right below her navel before taking those cotton pants between her teeth and pulling, staring Natasha down with a ferocity she never imagined would make her feel anything but a primal rage-

But that night played out as it did and now they were here, another evening spent indulging each other in acts they couldn’t ask of anyone else.

Wanda didn’t announce how close she was, didn’t give Natasha the satisfaction of knowing just how good of an orgasm she’d given her— the woman above her still knew. She’d heard Wanda cry out for her before and she’d already come this far: Natasha wouldn’t stop until she had Wanda begging. “You’re supposed to say thank you when I’m nice to you.”

“In your dreams, playboy.”

Fighting words were routine, but the glob of spit landing on Natasha’s cheek colored her vision red. For a moment, the tension in the air felt too thick, bedroom eerily quiet as Nat’s grip flexed into the plush thighs spread before her, clenched jaw only accentuating her dangerous glare. Maybe Wanda would be afraid if she hadn’t hit the exact nerve she’d aimed for.

“Brats like you never behave for long, huh?” Dragging Wanda across the floor, Natasha rammed into still recovering sex, cupping the back of her knee and forcing her leg into her chest while the other stayed trapped against the wood. The new angle was deeper than Wanda had ever been treated to and her choked sob alone almost made up for Natasha being spit on.

Almost.

“Always such an insufferable… ungrateful…” She grumbled, losing her train of thought as her focus dropped down, suddenly fixated on the now drenched toy at her hips stretched around Wanda’s tight hole, ever growing mess close to dripping onto her ass.

Wanda wasn’t new to people staring at her, most days it boosted her already impressive confidence levels, but the way Natasha watched, always sizing her up like prey to be hunted and devoured, that was different. When she wasn’t looking at her with apathy it was contempt, anything to remind Wanda she wasn’t infallible as she thought she was, but this —Natasha so obviously getting off to her, so desperately rocking her pelvis against Wanda’s whenever she bottomed out in search of friction— made the brunette feel craved.

“What’s the matter, run out of insults?” Nat hadn’t noticed her mouth hanging open until it felt dry, snapping out of her lustrous thoughts to lick her full lips. Seconds from verbal retort, she decided on a better course, one equally as selfish as Wanda’s earlier orgasm: she could very easily knock the girl down some much needed pegs while making it worth her time.

“Just wondering how a spoiled little cumslut like you thinks it’s in your best interest to mouth off.” Wanda didn’t have time to be taken aback, Natasha’s sudden change of angle driving her round tip into that elusive spot deep inside over and over; she cursed her drunken self babbling to her rival that she was the only person, including herself, to find it.

“Shit, Romanoff, slow down-!” She thought for sure Natasha wouldn’t remember, had her pegged as the type of lover who had to learn everything over each time, but no, Nat was the opposite and now she knew too much.

“Shut your mouth and play with your tits.” The command was blunt, powerful enough in its delivery that Wanda didn’t question, shaky hands sliding under her shirt while she struggled not to finish her second time unexpectedly early.

She was slow in her touches, too slow for Natasha’s energetic pace, and the loose cotton fabric hid the view; two things Nat instantly got tired of. “Get your damn shirt out of the way, and I don’t want any of your silly shy shit- I told you to play with them.”

Wanda would kill Nat if she ever told a soul she whimpered, would deny having clenched around Nat in response to her exerting control… still she wrenched her shirt over her head as quick as she could and her hands flew back to her chest. She forced her eyes to stay open, smugly committing the sight of Natasha panting in time with her thrusts, light green eyes glued to Wanda’s fingers teasing her dusty pink nipples into hardness.

“You’re such a creep, I bet you’ll be jerking off to this for weeks,” she mumbled, pinching the sensitive peaks between her thumb and forefinger, moaning louder than intended as she matched Natasha’s motions.

Nat huffed, couldn’t bother denying that yes, she would definitely be thinking about Wanda spread wide open and touching herself for a long time. Her partner would to, though, mind wandering to Natasha ordering her around next time she found herself alone and needy.

Wanda made the mistake of watching Nat’s tongue swipe over her lips, traitorous brain wondering what the smooth muscle would feel like instead of her chilly fingertips, how warm and wet her mouth would be if she ever dared to suck—

This time when the dam broke, she was too distracted to censor herself, back arching and body trembling uncontrollably. If Nat’s focus had lapsed for just two seconds she would’ve missed Wanda utter her name, soft and breathy, syllables stuttered as if she pronounced it for the first time. “Aww poor princess, was that too much for you?”

“Go fuck yourself…” The words were weak, embarrassingly so, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to laugh at her attempt.

“Already working on it, smartass,” Nat didn’t falter for a second through Wanda’s second high, meeting wave after wave as the girl finally stopped pretending she didn’t want this just as much and raised her hips with each thrust.

The redhead had long since made a mess of her own underwear, sticky wetness coating the base of her strap to aid her now desperate grinding into Wanda, rubbing her neglected sex against the textured silicone. She wouldn’t last much longer, not when Wanda insisted on mewling so maddeningly, freshly manicured nails digging into Natasha’s sides as she fought overstimulation.

“You’re being too rough-!” Wanda couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice knowing once again it was Natasha who’d rendered her so vulnerable, but this was always her favorite part, being used and treated so carelessly; the thing she and Nat never properly talked about, but knew she needed.

“But I’m so close, don’t you want me to stuff your pretty little cunt?” Nat taunted, bending over so she could kiss Wanda’s temple. “I think you’ve almost been a nice enough fuck tonight to earn it.”

“God, just do it!” Nat was humping against her so hard it hurt, but then the dull sting ebbed in place of a new sensation -two deft fingers rolling over her swollen clit- and Wanda could only briefly process she was well and truly done for before her mind melted away.

“So demanding for someone so needy… try asking nicely.” Fortunately for Natasha’s rapidly approaching orgasm, Wanda didn’t have it in her to fight anymore, submitting with a barely audible please. “Please what, you know what I wanna hear.”

Wanda could slap herself for being so weak later, maybe when she took a shower and realized how she actually loved being made to beg so helplessly. “Please Natasha, please please, I want you to cum in me!”

“Good girl, there’s those perfect manners,” Nat came with a series of grunts, jerkily rutting while she filled Wanda like she’d been thinking of doing since she stomped out of her house and tried to break up their party.

She’d been so angry, shouting and pointing her finger in everyone’s faces, treating her and her friends like they were rowdy kids. The others mumbled apologies, deferring to Wanda like the figurehead she decided she was, but Natasha loved a challenge, especially one she’d planned on having after purposefully planting themselves on the sorority lawn. Nat wasn’t scared of Wanda, not before this arrangement and certainly not after; now she knew exactly how to fix any argument that popped up.

When Natasha finally pulled out, there was a dampness to the front of her shirt and jeans and again, she wanted to reach over for her camera. Instead she settled for sliding her hands to where Wanda was red and oh so wet, abused hole fluttering as their combined arousal leaked out. It seemed a shame to let it go to waste on the floor, two fingers collecting what’d escaped and, much to Wanda’s exhausted surprise, pushing it back in.

“I’m too sensitive for that…” Twisting away was futile, Natasha still firmly planted between her thighs. She had half a mind to kick her until she saw Nat’s free hand angling her cock down, painting Wanda’s lower half with thick ropes of cum while her thumb nudged her hardened bud, and dull throbs of new arousal twisted her stomach into cramps. “Stop-!”

The pleasure in it was fleeting, the pain of exhaustion winning out, but it wasn’t until she sobbed pitifully that Natasha finally glanced up at Wanda’s anguished face and backed off. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine…” Wanda refused to entertain the idea that any bit of Nat’s concern was real; if she dwelled long enough, she’d ruin her afterglow with too many conflicting thoughts. It didn’t matter if the redhead actually cared anyways, her touch, now slowly smoothing over Wanda’s sore hips, started to burn as Wanda came back to her senses. “Just get your hands off me, idiot.”

Natasha could’ve pushed and maybe if it was someone she was supposed to care about she would’ve, but her worry swerved towards brushing off Wanda’s rejection, defaulting back to what they did best: hate each other. “A greedy whore and a squirter, probably a crier too if I bed you on the right day… better hope your secrets are safe with me, princess.”

Her heart dropped thinking about her sex life becoming the latest gossip, but she could only feebly push her away, head twisting to the side just so she could look anywhere but Natasha and her insolent self. “Well you’ve got to have some kind of funny story to tell everyone when you go back the party. I know you’re always low on those.”

Eventually she managed sitting up, stretching out her back and arms, inadvertently giving Natasha one last unobstructed view of her before retrieving her discarded t-shirt and putting it back in place. “Or you could crack open another beer and share how you drool like a baby every time you see my tits, that’s a conversation starter for sure.”

Needing a soft surface for her now aching body, Wanda clumsily climbed into bed, unceremoniously using Nat’s shoulder to lean on as she maneuvered. True, Natasha tended to kiss and tell, but something about doing the same to Wanda felt wrong, at least to be as detailed as she typically was. Maybe it was just the pride she got from being the only person Wanda’s actually fucking; she wanted to keep that for herself.

“Could always come back downstairs with me and we’ll tell them together.” Natasha didn’t need much clean up, zipping her jeans back and standing awkwardly next to Wanda’s now prone form. Neither of them knew how to handle the ‘after’ yet, Nat’s tendency to check in on even her most casual of partners always ignored by Wanda who knew she’d undoubtedly needed that care but couldn’t stomach the possibility of being one in a string of partners.

So they avoided it as much as possible. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever be seen anywhere with you, playboy.”

Wanda felt a different kind of yearning just then, one that dared her to give Nat the option to stay and her cheeks flushed all over again. Her solution was rolling over until her back was to Natasha, steeled herself to stay that way until she was left alone.

Nat sighed, long and audibly irritated, pondering the pros and cons of offering to do something together up here, a calm, private thing where she could sate that instinct to watch over Wanda without explicitly doing just that… but it’d require admitting she wouldn’t mind hanging out with Wanda and she did not want that.

“Sorry, I should’ve said if you wanted to take a night off of being an impossible bitch, you can actually try to enjoy yourself.”

The door closed behind her and Wanda could breathe again, flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. She felt empty and not only between her legs; unfortunately for Wanda, Natasha was no longer around to take her frustrations out on. “Stupid asshole..”

Eventually her night ended dangerously close to feigning some illness to lure Natasha’s attention back when she fell asleep and Nat’s, uncharacteristically leaving her party alone with the excuse of having forgotten her phone on the Wanda’s nightstand. She certainly didn’t use the opportunity to see Wanda again, surveying her sleep before pulling a blanket over the brunette’s shivering form.

[t3a-tan]

Romantic and Hopeless (9/?)

First / Previous / Next

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As they arrived at the cabin, Oscar pushed open the jammed door with some effort, before blocking it back up. Some of the windows were smashed in, but Freddie and him had covered the broken windows with wooden boards. The cabin was still cold, but it was mostly sheltered from the elements. The lights obviously didn't work, but there was enough natural light for now and Oscar had brought a lantern with him.

He removed his bag of supplies, tossing them onto the wooden floor and letting out a sigh of relief now that they had reached their intended destination. I don't think Ryker will find us here…

He glanced towards a cricket bat that was sitting in the corner. He and Freddie decided to keep a weapon inside just in case they needed it for some reason. At least I'll have something to defend us with. Not that it'll do much against a gun…

Walking over to the old dusty sofa that had been leftover by whoever lived in the house before he sank into it with another content sigh. Then, as he caught movement from the corner of his eye, he smiled warmly seeing Sammy crawling out of his pocket and across the chest of his puffy jacket.

“Crazy that your cousin happened to live here, ent it? And he rides birds? That's cool as fuck.” He couldn't imagine being so calm and confident riding on the back of something so massive. He felt nervous enough looking at it whilst human sized, let alone as a borrower.

Sammy was not as impressed. It was still weighing heavily on her mind; the fact that Oliver was clearly not afraid of humans as a borrower should be— and he was reckless enough to try taming a bird? A bird of prey no less?? Clearly he had a few screws loose.

Yes, Oscar did seem nice enough for a human… and yes, the bird was well-trained…but a borrower without caution was as good as dead. Yet, Sammy still couldn't help her admiration and care for her cousin… he was more like an older brother to her after all; having lived with her parents since she was born.

Oscar noticed the lack of response and the way her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, clearly deep in thought thanks to his comments. He tilted his head, smile dropping slightly.

“Hey, you okay Sammy? You're spacing out a little. Am I too close?” Not that he could do much about it considering she was standing on his chest… still, he glanced towards the cobweb covered side table and decided against offering to place her there.

Sammy snapped out of her spiralling thoughts as the warm breath of the human facing her washed over her body, sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up to meet his gaze, a frown still apparent on her expression.

“Just…fretting about Ryker, that's all…” She lied, rubbing the back of her hand anxiously and averting her gaze. “What if he manages to find us here? That would put Oliver in danger too now.”

Oscar leaned his head back in thought, realising she was right. But then again…this seemed to be Oliver's home, so he would have a much better chance surely.

“I mean… he's stayed hidden this long, I'm sure he'll be okay.” Oscar tilted his gaze downwards towards her again, tilting his head slightly and offering a reassuring smile as his brows furrowed with uncertainty. “And we will too. He's not gonna find us.”

Sammy let out a breath from her nose, her hand moving up to rub her shoulders as she hugged herself.

“You don't know him like I do. He's…he's smart. He's…too observant. Sometimes I'm not even sure he's human…” She shuddered again. “And most importantly, he has connections. I-I…I don't think I'm ever gonna feel safe with him just…out there.”

As she curled into herself more and more, Oscar felt a growing urge to hold her again. He quickly shook that feeling away; although he could tell she seemed like someone who found comfort in physical affection, it seemed more self-soothing. He could understand not wanting to be touched.

“I…understand…”

He leaned his head back again, looking up at the ceiling which was thankfully mostly intact as he formulated a response. Once he had one he sat up just a tiny bit so he could see her better, but not enough to make her ground unstable.

“It's okay to be worried… but I will protect you, okay? I promise. I wouldn't let anything happen to my soulmate…” His words were sincere, and he hoped that they would bring her some comfort…he was a little confused when she froze up. “What's up?”

Sammy stared up at him, shocked.

“Y-you knew!?” Her tone was a melting pot of emotions; anger, fear, distrust, disgust, relief. Her cheeks burned hot, but it felt more like shame than the usual nice fuzzy feeling she got around him. She felt tense and on edge all over again.

“Oh shit— sorry it just slipped out.. I— you seemed really averse to me knowing, but it was kind of obvious and I just—!” He cut off his hasty attempt to save the situation when he saw that she had tears appearing in her eyes again, her glare venomous. His words caught in his throat, a sinking feeling coming over him.

Sammy knew that it was a secret that would come out eventually…and yes, it had been obvious she was Rabbit, but why did he pretend? Why didn't he acknowledge it? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security? Make her trust him just enough that she could be taken advantage of?

After all she had experienced, her relationship with this kind of attraction had become skewed. The thought that Oscar may be looking at her as someone who was attractive made her feel gross and want to pull away. Though, as she looked up at Oscar her glare faltered slightly, seeing that he looked so genuinely…hurt.

“Sammy— what…I don't understand why it upsets you so much.. I- uh… do you not want me to be your soulmate?” He asked, tone soft and even a bit shaky.

Sammy bristled at the question, her glare disappearing entirely. She bit her lip, averting her gaze and gripping her arms tightly, enough for her nails to scratch skin. She didn't know how to articulate how she felt about it. About him.

“I…don't know. I do…but I just..” She ran her hands through her hair, brows furrowing in frustration. Her expression seemed to change every second, all of the mixed emotions whirling around inside of her to make a confusing distressing mess. “I-I don't want…I don't want me…to be your soulmate…”

As she said that her gaze focused up on Oscar again, posture shrunken and uncertain of her words. I'm not making any sense. He's just gonna be angry at me…

Oscar was relieved when she said she did want him as a soulmate…then immediately confused by her next statement. He ran through it a few times in his head trying to decipher the meaning. So…she likes me, thank god. But she doesn't want me to like her?

“You know I wouldn't ever pressure you into anything, right? I'm not… if you just wanted to be friends forever, that's fine. I-I want to keep you safe because I like you, not because I want anything from you.” He could only imagine what she thought of him and those images made him feel sick to his stomach.

Yet at the same time…he couldn't fault her. Everything that she had been through was still so fresh on her mind, of course she was going to be more reactive. And Oscar really was telling the truth; that he wouldn't mind if things never went past a friendship, as long as that's what Sammy wanted.

Sammy was still conflicted about things, but seeing how sincere Oscar was and hearing what he said made some of her worries go to the back of her mind again. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as she wiped at her watery eyes.

“I'm sorry… I-I just don't want you to look at me like…the other humans…” Humans are monsters…but Oscar seems safe. At least right now. Ugh…why is it always so uncertain? She felt some guilt for her instinctive reaction— even more so seeing how Oscar was continuing to be so nice to her even through her constant distrust and distress.

She held his gaze, tensing in surprise when a reassuring smile found its way onto his face again. She could tell he still felt sad; his eyes were still staring down at her…not with pity, but with concern? Remorse? Resolve?

“It's okay. I promise, I would never look at you that way. I respected and admired you when you were still Rabbit, and I respect and admire you now as Sammy. Nothing will change that…” He assured softly, making Sammy relax. He continued, though his tone became more light-hearted. “Well… maybe if you did something crazy like blow up a building I would be a little concerned.”

Sammy laughed wetly at his joke, wiping away the last remaining tear streaks from her face. She found herself genuinely smiling this time, although the realisation of that fact made her falter and avert her gaze again, cheeks flushing red.

Oscar chuckled slightly at her reaction, only to apologise as he saw how his chest moving up and down made the ground much less stable for Sammy.

“Sorry… Do you want to move to one of the arms so I can sit up?” He asked, though it was more of a request really. Sammy looked towards the arm of the sofa Oscar was leaning on and began to walk across. She moved slowly, trying to avoid putting much weight on her injured ankle as she slid the short distance down from the human's shoulder to the arm of the seat.

Oscar watched the process for a few moments, seeing that she was struggling to move at a faster pace, but also knowing it was best not to offer help here. He tried not to stare, eventually looking down at his hands again as they rested against his stomach.

Once he was sure she was no longer on his person he sat up slowly. He then leaned down and began to dig through his bag, pulling out his phone and a granola bar. Putting his phone beside him, he opened the bar before looking down at Sammy again with a warm smile.

“You didn't get to have breakfast yet, so I figured you might be hungry. I'm a bit peckish too, but I reckon I can spare enough for you.” He spoke light-heartedly, breaking off a piece and offering it forward between his fingers. “It has bits of chocolate in. I remember you said you liked chocolate once before.”

She at first shuffled back as his fingers approached, a cautious but not as purely terrified expression on her face. She took a wary step forward and took the chunk from Oscar's grip, then stepped back again and sat down. She looked the granola over, her expression lighting up as she noticed there were indeed chocolate pieces inside.

“You remembered? I swear I said it off-handedly…” She looked up at him, feeling a little…flustered over the fact that he had paid enough attention to recall that fact. Not to mention happy; she hadn't had chocolate for a long while— but it was a taste she couldn't easily forget.

Oscar chuckled softly again, raising the bar to his lips.

“Of course I remember. It's something we have in common.” He nodded his head towards her in an almost bow.

Sammy snorted, and began to nibble on the granola. As soon as she took her first bite she realised how hungry she was and had to restrain herself from just scarfing the whole thing down immediately.

While they ate, Oscar noticed the sound of flapping wings before spotting the same tiny man from before, Oliver, entering through a crack in the bottom of the jammed door. He had a bigger bag with him this time, and was dragging an extra bag in through the crack. Once he was through he slung it back over his shoulder and walked further into the open.

“Oh, hey. You're back.” Oscar greeted with a wave, staying seated and silently wondering how heavy those bags would be to him if he was that small…

Sammy had finished her chunk of the granola bar by now and she peaked over the edge of the arm of the sofa, her eyes focusing on her cousin right away.

“Hi…”

Oliver smiled and waved up at the two.

“Hello.” He looked to Oscar specifically next, asking politely. “Could you give me a hand up please?”

Oscar blinked at the direct question. Usually he was asking Sammy if it was okay to pick her up, so being asked the opposite took him off guard for a moment. He snapped out of it a second later, nodding and bending down, offering a palm to lift the borrower up onto the sofa.

Once he had lowered his passenger onto the same arm that Sammy was on, he spoke up again.

“What did you end up fetching..?” He asked curiously, moving his hand away again once the man had stepped off. “Looks heavy.”

Sammy couldn't help but also feel curious. She watched as Oliver opened one of the bags and pulled out some clothes…. Socks, shoes, a coat— warm things. Her eyes widened in realisation.

“These are…mum’s.”

Oliver nodded.

“They’re for you. You'll catch a cold if you don't wear something more appropriate for the weather… It might be a bit baggy, but I brought Auntie's old clothes since I thought you would have better luck fitting into them than my own. I have thread to make it fit better anyway, if changes need to be made.” He explained.

Sammy was hesitant to touch any of it, her hands shaking as she reached towards the clothes. But they…are hers. I might ruin them… After a few more moments of staring, she looked towards Oliver for reassurance, to which he offered an understanding smile and nodded.

“Something well-worn is something loved.” He pointed out. Hesitantly, Sammy slipped on the socks, immediately relieved by the extra layering. She hadn't had socks to wear for a long time. Or anything really, besides the gown she was wearing right now.

Sammy tried on the shoes and put on some shorts. Although the shorts were a bit baggy, they could be tightened by pulling a string which made them fit more comfortably. Looking down at her now clothed legs, it felt…comfortable. Warmer, definitely.

She glanced towards Oscar, only to see that he was looking at his phone, seemingly texting someone, not looking at her. Some of her anxiety faded again.

“And look who else I brought—”

Sammy bristled at Oliver's words, her face reddening as she immediately caught onto what he was referring to. She spotted Oscar looking over from the corner of her vision and she immediately tried to block Oliver from his view when she saw that he was indeed holding a stuffed bunny.

“Ollie..! Put him away..!” She whisper-yelled, already pushing the bunny back down as her face burned with embarrassment. Oliver gave her a knowing look.

“Oh. You want me to take it back to my burrow then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Sammy's eyes widened and she snatched it from his hands, not wanting to give it up as much as she also felt embarrassed about Oscar potentially seeing it.

“Is that…a teddy?” She spun around as Oscar's voice rumbled close by, yelping slightly upon noticing he had leaned in to get a look. Her face was still flushed, and she hid it behind her back again, as much as she knew it was already too late. A soft chuckle sounded from above. “Hey hey…nothing wrong with that, Sammy.”

Recognizing her embarrassment, Oscar moved away again, rummaging through his own bag.

“In fact…that makes this conversation much easier.” Sammy watched in surprise when he pulled out a stuffed dog. The redness on her face cooled slightly and her grip on the stuffed bunny loosened, no longer hiding it behind her back. “Meet doggy. I know, not a very creative name…but hey. I named him when I was a baby.”

Her brows furrowed before she averted her gaze, slowly lifting the rabbit and presenting it towards Oscar’s smiling face.

“...Messy… His name is Messy.” She murmured, the heat returning to her cheeks once she actually uttered those words, finding herself unable to look in Oscar's direction for the time being. Her heart was racing in her chest once more.

Oliver watched the interaction with interest, buttoning his bag closed again. He had seen Oscar's gentle nature and he very much approved, feeling more confident about letting Sammy stay in his care for the time being.

He had some important questions he needed answered, but for now he was content to see his cousin alive and happy. He waited a few more moments before clearing his throat to get their attention on him again.

“Now then… what is the danger you're both hiding from?”

[suzukiblu]

As someone who's super into Superboy, do you have any reccs for curious beginners about what to watch/read to check that out?

( GOD I'M SO SORRY HOW LONG I TOOK TO ANSWER THIS, I LEFT IT HALF-FINISHED IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I MEANT TO LOOK UP SOME FIC RECS LATER AND THEN TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT IT, hahasob. Dangit, self! I don't know if this is even still a relevant question for you but screw it, forget both that concern and the recs-research, I am ANSWERING IT NOW. )

So as far as actual canon goes, in the comics I mostly read his original solo title from issue fifty to cancellation, which was about another fifty issues, and also all of Young Justice's original run and both the World Without Grownups and Sins of Youth events, as well as a few other YJ-related one-shots and specifically Young Justice: The Secret, which is I beeelieve only one issue and was the comic that first got me interested in YJ as a team to begin with. I went back and read some earlier issues later, but issue fifty of Superboy's first solo is actually a really good jumping-on point for him imo, it's the start of an arc about him being stranded on an island of beast-men with amnesia and repressed powers and it sets up a new status-quo for him after. There's also a later arc in the series about interdimensional travel through Hypertime where he meets a lot of other versions of himself, including the grown-adult version who's trying to invade half the multiverse, which I thought was especially good too. And like, just it was a real good run in general, I thought, I really dug it.

Also, he was originally introduced as a character after (or during?) the Death of Superman arc and featured reasonably heavily in the Reign of the Supermen event as one of the four replacements trying to become the new Superman, though I haven't personally read much of those. If I started anywhere as a newcomer, I'd probably start with either his original solo run or the original Young Justice. Or both! Both is good! Young Justice is especially choice, though, and also tells a full and pretty well-developed story over the run of the comic without anything in particular getting cut off prematurely. Like, I remember it wrapping up really well, especially for an ongoing American comic from the Big Two.

Other comics I know Kon's been prominent/important in but either haven't read or haven't read much of: Superboy and the Ravers, Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day, Teen Titans (2003), another solo Superboy title set in Smallville, Young Justice (2019), Dark Crisis: Young Justice, and Superboy: Man of Tomorrow.

There's also the Young Justice cartoon, which has a VERY different take on his personality, though I still really liked what I saw of the character and have written fic about that version of him, and then there's the animated Reign of the Supermen movie, which I still haven't seen but looks real good and seems to be more comics-accurate, personality-wise. And like, I absolutely LOVE his design in it, haha. He's just a lil' brat, it's great! In live-action there's both Titans and later seasons of Smallville, but I wasn't very interested in either of those myself and don't know much about them.

There's . . . there's a lot out there, haha, the character is like a good thirty years old now. And honestly I kinda play fast and loose with some of the canon, this is VERY much the kind of fandom where I just go for what I think works best for the story I wanna tell. It's comics, okay, canon is BARELY EVEN GUIDELINES AT THIS POINT, hahaha.

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

Uncanny X-Men #194- Juggernaut's Back in Town

Last Issue Recap: The team fought Thunderbird's identical brother and his Hellion friends in a US base, tanked whatever remained of their superhero credibility and then proceeded to just let Thunderbird and the Hellions waltz on back to Emma Frost without any repercussions.

This cover is pretty cool, I wouldn’t say the composition is fantastic but it makes it pretty clear what this issue is going to be about (a big ol’ heavy hitter slap fight) and Rogue with Nightcrawler and Colossus’ powers is intriguing.

The issue doesn't start with a fight though, it starts with Juggernaut having a friendly conversation with the most oblivious cop in New York

Yessir, I'm sure the giant hunk of muscle wider than he is tall couldn't possibly have anything to do with the recently escaped super criminal. 10/10 polic-ing.

Juggernaut watches some news crew give exposition for new readers on him (there's plenty of convoluted backstory but all you really need to know is he's the Juggernaut, bitch) and his recent appearances in other comics (shameless plugins). They also remind us how the X-men and Spiderman (who was Juggernaut's latest foe) are Feared and Hated By the World They Have Sworn to Protect. The popularity of a Marvel character in-universe is indirectly proportional to their popularity IRL, thus why Wonderman is highly successful film star.

Cut to the X-men in the Currently-Not-Destroyed Xavier's School upstate waking up and not giving a singular fuck about one of their super criminals on the loose.

He stayed up all night watching old swashbuckler films ahhhh he's such a dork I love him! (Thirsty Sidenote: this is I think the first time Kurt has been drawn without a shirt and gloves on. In earlier issues he seemed to basically live 24/7 in his costume. Yes I noticed. Don't judge me.)

Nobody cares, that is, except for Colossus (aka Piotr Rasputin), who went from one of my favorite characters to least favorite characters when he started dating an underage Kitty Pryde until Marvel Editor in Chief Jim Shooter told them to stop (possibly the only good decisions Jim Shooter ever made). They wasted so much good himbo potential with this boy. Anyway, he's very excited for a rematch with Juggey after demolishing a few blocks with him in a post-breakup funk several issues ago. So excited he quite literally busts out of his clothes.

See, its dumbass himbo behavior like this I'd enjoy a lot more if I couldn't get the bad taste of him and Kitty out of my mouth. Screw you Claremont for ever thinking that was ok.

Wolverine comes in from his daily barefoot snow jog in purple pajamas to tell Nightcrawler to get the team ready to track down Juggernaut because blah blah its their jobs booo you spoilsport. Honestly I would have loved an issue where the X-men just stayed at home and did nothing. I find the cool-down moments in long running comic series are usually my favorite parts. Its nice to see how these characters interact with each other and live their lives when they aren't constantly in mortal peril. But the cover promised a big knockdown dragemout and so, the plot must keep plotting. (Side note: how did Wolvie even find out about the Juggernaut? Everyone else was listening to the radio but he was running outdoors. His plot sense was tingling I guess).

Since Cyclops is a married man, Storm has lost her powers and Professor X is off in Scotland doing New Mutants stuff, Kurt now has the sole leadership responsibility of the team. I've really enjoyed Kurt's run as team leader so far. He's doing his best but he's not cut out for leadership and its clear he hates every minute of it. He's an extroverted sweetheart who would rather support his friends. Its nice to see Nightcrawler get more stuff to do after barely being present for the past for story arcs. His self doubt is also a fantastic change of pace from the previous leadership dynamics, which were the team leader going "Wah wah wah I'm the leader and you have to do what I say I'm going to be a controlling little bitch," and the second in command/former leader muttering under their breath "I would be such a better leader I deserve this title more leader doesn't know what they're doing wah wah wah." It was basically a three way dick measuring contest between Cyclops, Storm and Professor X and I hated every egotistical minute of it.

Speaking of Storm, we cut to her in her home in Kenya showing some colonial douchecanoes who's boss. Storm was recently depowered by an antimutant weapon created by Forge (long story) and so has quit the team and is returning home to find inner peace or something. Being 80s Marvel Kenya is of course portrayed in a nuanced and intelligent manner- just kidding its a thatched roof bush station in the savannah and I'm pretty sure they only chose Mount Kilimanjaro because it was the only place in Africa they could name.

Also this specific Racist White Dude is using a South African slur (kaffir) in Kenya. I'd like to say the writers meant him to be a South African on vacation in Kenya but to be honest I don't think they were thinking that hard about it. If I'm wrong though and this isn't just an example of lazy writing, lmk.)

The women running bush station who Storm saves turns out to be a member of the tribe that worshipped her as a Goddess in her first appearance (because, again, Marvel is well known for their fantastic African representation /s) and falls at her feet. The implications of this are that the regional drought mentioned in previous panels is the result of Ororo joining the X-men and no longer acting as weather Goddess, which raises a whole bunch of questions about the morality of her decision to leave in the first place, as well as broader questions about the ecology of the Marvel Universe as a whole that literally superpowers were needed to keep the climate in the region stable in the first place (climate change must be hitting them hard and fast, forget the Setinels, this is the bad future y'all should be going back to stop!). Anyway, I'm sure at least some of these will be answered the next time we see her.

Back to the main storyline, Kitty and Rachel are spying on Juggernaut, who is in a bank in civies, seemingly doing ordinary, none-crime stuff.

Look at his giant butt in that tiny chair how could anybody be fooled by this?!

The stakeout is going pretty quietly until Nimrod shows up to finally do something. The panels showing him locking in on the X-men's location is pretty neat, but its giving me Deja Vu. I wonder if its because the panel is so famous I've seen it before, or if they copied some iconic imagery from something else (it is giving me Escape From New York vibes)

Rachel and Kitty evacuate the civies and regroup with the rest of the X-men as Nimrod focuses his attention on Juggernaut. He punches Juggernaut into a conveniently empty construction lot where they can beat the stuffing out of each other without the writers having to worry about civilians. Do you think construction lots cause superhero fights, or do superhero fights cause construction lots? Its a chicken-egg sort of thing I feel. The X-men show up to stick their noses in like a bunch of idiots and this is where I have to make my opinions on Nimrod known.

Nimrod is a mutant hunting cop-robot that had been introduced previously, having been pulled into the current timestream from the Days of Future Past timeline when Dr Strange reversed time to stop the spell of an evil wizard from turning Manhatten into a Hyborian Era fantasy kingdom. I personally think exchanging Fantasy AU Avengers for pink murderbot is a pretty lame deal, but what do I know. Anyway, he's spent all his time since his initial appearance living in some poor guy's basement, eating his snacks, taking up space and barely masquerading as human, much like me.

So. I'ma be honest. I don't like Nimrod. I think he looks like a stupid pink trapezoid. Also, his name is dumb. Yeah, yeah, Nimrod was a famous biblical hunter, I know, but like. This was the 80s. Bugs Bunny had been a thing for decades, "Nimrod" was already well established as an insult and honestly giving the guy that goofy-ass triangle head and Looney Toons-esque invulnerability is not helping the associations. Like, what the hell were the DoFP folks thinking?! But then again this is same Evil Future Government that decided Rachel's mutant hunter outfit should be a literal goddamn gimpsuit so I think its been well established that their real crime aren't against humanity but fashion.

He's also extremely OP in the worst way. I can't even keep track of how many powers this guy has. And you'd think that might make the fight's interesting, right, like you'll you never know what's going to happen next? No actually it makes everyfight extremely boring because I know exactly what's going to happen next, the X-men are going to attack with something and Nimrod is going to go "Nu-uh, you can't hit me I have my everything shield!" and take them out of the fight with some new weapon he pulled out of his ass. And that's exactly what happens this time. Nightcrawler and Colossus teleport into the fight? Nimrod's tracking systems immediately detect them and he blasts them unconscious. Wolverine does a fastball special?But oh no, a force field! Kitty phases through him? Not only does she not disrupt his systems, she gets knocked back by energy field!

The demonstration of Nimrod's bullshit powers is great here, but I actually wanted to post this because of Rachel's fit. Its so 80s but I kind of adore it. This nonsense continues even after Rogue absorbs Kitty, Nightcrawler and Colossus's powers in a Hail Mary. Don't get me wrong, Rogue kicks ass and its hella entertaining but Nimrod once again is on his bullshit. She punches him into a million tiny pieces and he just reforms himself! Then he teleports out of there because I guess even he knew this fight had dragged on long enough. Which is another thing I hate about Nimrod; they can never actually kill the bastard. He'll just teleport away and come back next time with even more bullshit. It'd be so cathartic if Rogue had finally just smacked him down for good but I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of him in the future. The X-men let the Juggernaut go, despite him being a literal criminal, because they've been doing that a lot recently. Unfortunately for them, this time surprise news crews have been behind the fourth wall the whole time like its an episode of Impractical Jokers and now the whole world knows they didn't even try to do their job. And don't give me any "oh they were weak they knew they couldn't taken him" Juggernaut had his psionic bucket hat off and Rachel Summers was right there she could have taken him down with a single thought.

We end the comic with an ominous discussion about the X-men by two members of the Russian Security council.

You can tell its Moscow because of the picture perfect view of St Basil's which magically appears in the window. Also, how the heck am I supposed to take Eyepatch Ivanovich here seriously when he's wearing little red booty shorts?! Anyway, this certainly was an issue of X-men. It started off really fun, then it got kind of generic. Certainly not the worst or most infuriating by any means. Looking forward to next issue!

Edit: I took the comic at face value and wrote that Mount Kilimanjaro was in Kenya. Mount Kilimanjaro is actually in Tanzania, near the Kenyan border, so unless the borders have shifted since 1985, Claremont is an idiot and so am I.

[viktheviking1]

Helluva Boss Fanfiction- The Pompous and the Prick

Sneak Peek at my StolasxBlitzø Fanfiction! Full Version on Archive of Our Own (AO3) or WattPad

Their last conversation didn’t end well. This was a rather common thing for Blitzø and Stolas, but it had been particularly awkward and Blitzø was feeling a little nervous approaching the mansion’s front steps. All day as he worked in the living world, the full moon had loomed overhead; an unwavering reminder of the promise that had been made and the deal that had been struck. Time waits for no demon, and a deal was a deal, so he was determined to make Stolas forget all about his f**k ups and woo the pants off of that big bird . . . For the book, of course.

One hand held the book, while the other sported a rose. It had come from Stolas’s own bushes of course, but even if he figured that out, it’d probably still have the desired effect. Blitzø stood in front of the door, checking his coat for blood. There was a lot, but it was all dry, so he wouldn’t be staining the carpets with it. He practiced leaning on a pillar, and putting the rose in his mouth. Blood began to fill his mouth as the thorns pricked his gums. Well, not a great start. Gritting his teeth, he began taking the thorns off the stem one by one.

“Come on you little-” he stopped as the door suddenly opened in front of him, revealing a very sad Owl in a tattered old robe.

“Oh, uh . . . Hi.” Blitzø said, quickly standing up straight, and shoving the rose into Stolas’s face.

Sh*t, I wasn't ready.

The prince plucked the rose from Blitzø's hand, but no smile appeared on his face. Without a word he turned around and went back inside, leaving the door wide open with Blitzø standing on the other side. He gave a nervous gulp, and followed him in.

Stolas led him to the fancy-*ss dining hall where there was already a bottle of wine and glasses. Okay, Blitzø thought to himself, not too late to turn this around then.

"So, Stolas. . . What's cooking, good looking?"

Stolas took a seat at the head of the table, and began pouring himself a drink. It was then that Blitzø noticed the one already empty wine bottle on the floor. Ah. So maybe not salvageable after all.

"You know, if this is a bad time-"

Stolas gestured to the chair next to him, "Please, sit."

Blitzø complied, but found himself getting more nervous as he got closer to Stolas, who was staring at him with such sad eyes. He sat a couple chairs down.

". . . Did you get into another fight with your wife? That b**ch. I barely know anything about her, but she's seriously got a few screws loose. Whatever she said or did, you shouldn't take it-"

"It's not about Stella." Stolas interrupted, now looking like he was about to cry.

"Sh*t. Well, teenagers are tough. She probably just needs time to cool off-"

"Via is fine." Stolas said, looking away.

"Well, shoot. I'm out of guesses. Uh-"

"Really?!" Stolas stood from his chair with a burst, "Really. Is there no one else you can think of, in all the circles of hell I might care about enough to cry over?"

Ah, so he had been crying. What was Blitzø meant to say? What name was so important for him to know? What words could he give to Stolas that might comfort him? He'd say whatever he needed to if it brought a smile back to his face. . . So they could f**k and then he could keep the book, of course.

Stolas let out a long, weighted sigh, "Of course, not. It's my fault I suppose. Oh Blitzy, if I could go back and do it all again, say the right things, do things in a better order . . . I would." He reached out and touched his hand, "But no matter how much I can manipulate space, time will forever escape me; slipping through my fingers." He let go of his hand, and Blitzø felt like he was missing something that was staring at him in the face.

"I- I don't understand." Blitzø said, his eyes looking concerned.

“The deal is off, Blitzø. No more favors, comfortable lies, no more promiscuous nights tangled together, only to end in loneliness once more. I think I- we need a fresh start. Because . .  I just can’t do this anymore. ”

That came as a surprise. Sh*t . . . Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t! No! D*mn that stupid owl and his royal privilege. Of course he could change his mind at any point, Blitzø knew that going into this, but he didn't expect it to be this sudden. He had assumed there'd be warning signs of him getting bored or becoming interested in another demon. He thought he'd have time to change his mind, to devise a plan. Maybe he'd woo him again, or play hard to get, or introduce him to a new s** toy or just something. He had to think quickly, else that book was as good as gone.

Blitzø began blabbering, "Look, I know we haven't talked since . . . Well, you know. But I'm sorry. Like, really sorry. I- uh- f**k. Maybe I could sub more often? Or Dom? Whatever you want. And I'll stay for breakfast like you're always asking me too. If you're really set on it, we could come to a new arrangement-"

"Oh for Satan's sake, Blitzy! You can keep the d*mn book!" Stolas slammed the table, knocking over the wine glasses, " . . . Sh*t."

Without thinking, Blitzø took out a bloody rag from one of his pockets and began wiping it up, a little too desperately, "I got it. I got it- wait . . . What do you mean I can keep it?"

Stolas took a deep breath, "I mean that you can keep the grimoire as usual, and I'll hire someone to fetch it from you once a month. I just can't have you coming around here anymore."

". . . F*ck, Stolas please tell me you're not getting back together with princess b**ch face."

Stolas couldn't help but giggle a little, ”No. Fool me once or however the saying goes. No, I want someone who truly loves me. And who will let me love them openly without shame or guilt or feeling of bitterness. I want . . . a real relationship, Blitzy." 

[frenchfurniture1]

Choosing the Right Modern Living Room Furniture: Quality, Functionality, and Aesthetics

Knowing which luxury modern living room furniture is right for your space can be tricky. After all, there are many factors at play, like the size of your room, the type of lighting you have, and even the overall vibe you want to create.

It's important that you consider these factors so that nothing gets lost in translation between what you like and what works best with your home's layout. You want to come home and feel like the King or Queen of a castle, happy to relax after a long day’s work. When you're considering picking out new furniture, try to think about the functionality, quality, and aesthetics.

Functionality

Functionality is one of the most essential qualities to consider when choosing luxury french furniture. You want to make sure that your new pieces are durable and well-made, comfortable, easy to use, able to be used for multiple purposes, or even versatile.

Durability: When it comes down to it, all your new furniture needs a strong foundation so that it can withstand everyday use over time without breaking down on you. If something breaks easily, then it's not worth buying because then what was the point?

Comfort: Another thing to look at when shopping around online stores is whether or not they have good reviews regarding comfortability. You want to feel enveloped by the quality of the fabric instead of being disrupted by scratchy or stiff materials.

Ease Of Use: A chair is not just a chair if it includes a bunch of additional features you do not want. Make sure the items you are choosing are fit to your use case and need.

Quality

When it comes to quality, there are a few things to consider. First and foremost is the material of the furniture. You want something that's going to last you a long time and not fall apart after just a few uses. You also want it to be easy on your wallet, so look for pieces made from durable materials like metal, wood, or glass rather than plastic or cheap fabric.

Another thing worth noting about quality is how well each piece fits together. You don't want any loose screws or joints that could potentially break over time. Also, make sure all parts of your new living room set come with clear instructions for assembly so you can put everything together without hassle. If you work with a premium supplier of luxury modern living room furniture, then you are almost guaranteed to get a solid piece without having to worry about anything other than your pet cat scratching at the posts.

Aesthetics

Aesthetics are a vital part of choosing the right modern living room furniture. The furniture you choose should complement the design of your space, be made from high-quality materials, and be durable enough to last for years to come.

Aesthetically speaking, there are many things that can affect how your room looks. The color scheme is one thing. Or if you have dark walls and floors but light-colored furniture, that may not balance out well visually. You also want to consider size when selecting pieces for your home. 

Smaller items will make a room feel larger than large ones would.

If you're unsure about what would work best for your space (or just want some inspiration), take some time browsing through Pinterest boards dedicated specifically to decorating ideas. There's no shortage of inspiration there.

We hope this guide has helped you understand the different factors that go into choosing the right luxury modern living room furniture for your space. With so many options out there, it can be challenging to know where to begin when planning your next furniture purchase. We hope our tips will help you narrow down your choices and find something perfect for your home!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Epilogue Just a lil fluffy epilogue... if you don't like babies then this is not the epilogue for you!

Devlon adored his garden. The cat tanked through overgrown grass, bolting after a butterfly while Nesta followed Elain’s instruction on removing the weeds. Azriel let out a little chuckle from the kitchen at Nesta’s disgruntled expression when a particularly thick bramble refused to budge. She was not a gardening person, but wanted to help somehow whenever she wasn’t working with George. Hacking away at something seemed to be the safest place for Nesta.

Remarkably, Cassian offered up his services to help restore the house. It didn’t matter to Azriel if it was simply to repent because Cassian was handy and he did need his help but would have been too proud to ask otherwise. Azriel kept Nesta shielded, keeping her pregnancy under wraps for the time being though Cassian already knew, but it didn’t seem worth it to risk any lingering effects of the mating bond if it could be helped. As it happened, Cassian was fine. He never got too close to Nesta or tried to touch her in anyway – and only ever visited when he knew Azriel was home. They had unspoken rules regarding Nesta. Azriel might not have been her mate, but now that she was carrying his child, he was even more protective of her. As for Cassian, there were no signs of madness or him becoming a tortured male without the bond. Helion believed the close proximity to Nesta prevented those effects. He still had access to her in a way that suited all of them.  

Azriel was grateful for the help, but more thankful still to have his brother back. Their conversation returned almost as easy as it used to be as they repaired the house together. They’d repainted most of the rooms after sanding and patching up cracks so they had begun living in a few of the rooms. Each day, they worked from dawn ‘til dusk with Rhys coming occasionally to offer unhelpful advice and get in the way.

It became a habit now that whenever Rhys showed up, Nesta would have to distract him so he didn’t make a mess of painting or hammer a nail in the wrong place. None would tell the high lord that he needed a babysitter, but Nesta reluctantly took on the role, expertly guiding him elsewhere or distracting his attention.  

Azriel had overheard them talking once, that hesitant bridge forming between them as they enjoyed an early summer day in the garden with a cool drink while he and Cassian continued fixing the loose tiles of the roof.

‘Thank you for being on our side. It can’t have been easy for you to go against Cassian and my sister.’

Rhys gave her a gentle smile. ‘It was the right thing to do.’

‘The right thing isn’t always the easy one. Will you let Amren return?’

‘Maybe once she’s had enough torture by sunburn and sand. Not for a long time though.’

‘Good.’

‘I’m in need of second.’

‘Not for me,’ she said, screwing up her nose.

‘Well, can I at least have you on standby to chase my enemies with your glorious, silver flames?’

The corner of her mouth tipped up. ‘I’ll consider it.’  

The house had taken shape through hours of care. The nursery – which had been kept under wraps so Mor spread a rumour it was some sort of sordid palace of pleasure – was painted a sunny yellow, their kitchen was well used as they explored new recipes together, and they’d changed one of the downstairs rooms into a cross between a small library and a study for Nesta’s collection of books which would only increase to fill the shelves. Most of it had been built by Cassian but they rewarded him with food.

Despite the awful beginning, he was proving to be a steadfast companion again, lending an ear when Azriel worried about being a father or happily rearranging the furniture when Nesta decided she didn’t like the layout that she had chosen for the third time.

On a quiet day, when most of the house was finished, Azriel and Nesta eloped.

Neither of them wanted the fuss or the attention, so they winnowed to the Summer Court and had a priestess marry them on the beach without pomp or fanfare. Even in her simple, white gown, Nesta was a dream. Of course, they’d had to stay a little longer to scour the beach for more shells to add to the nursery. She was barefooted with only a hint of a bump beneath her gown and Azriel’s breath caught in his lungs to look at her – his wife – as she tiptoed along the sand.

Although the pregnancy had been a massive surprise, which his mother had sobbed at, Azriel found himself obsessed. He couldn’t go into the city without buying something for the baby, whether it was more clothes or toys that they wouldn’t be able to play with for months, he always had to buy something. His child would be so spoilt. Azriel doubted he would ever be able to refuse anything either.

The obsession wasn’t just with the baby either. When Nesta’s stomach began to round, he was more attracted to her changing body than ever before. Azriel was more than happy to rub moisturiser all over her every morning and evening while Nesta lay on the bed, content to be pampered. The knowledge that Nesta was carrying his child made him insatiable so the massages quickly turned into sex where he plastered her body with kisses and reverent touches. She complained that her hips were too wide, her breasts were too big, and the stretchmarks that appeared on her thighs and stomach were horrible. Azriel saw none of that. He saw his wife who he loved more than anything in the world, growing his child. He couldn’t have been any more attracted to her if he tried. If it was up to him, they wouldn’t leave the bedroom for ten months.

***

‘I’m so pregnant,’ Nesta whined by the door. Her feet were so swollen that she hadn’t been able to lace up her shoes for weeks – and now she could no longer even bend down to reach her shoes.

‘Have you only just noticed?’ Azriel tenderly stroked a hand against her stomach. ‘You glow more every day. You are carrying our child. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world.’

‘I have two more months and he’s been kicking me in the rib since month five. It’s not beautiful. It’s rude.’

‘She is just very active and can’t wait to meet her mother because she knows hers is the best in the world.’

Using Azriel for balance, Nesta raised a leg then the other so he could slip on her shoes for her. They had decided not to find out what they were having. Nesta was certain he was a boy. Azriel and Rovena were both insistent she was a girl. Cassian wouldn’t give an answer either way, the coward.

They walked as far as she could manage through Velaris as a brisk autumn wind swept through, then they winnowed the last part of the journey to the River House. Nesta had only begun showing near the end of her fourth month and her visits to the inner circle were so infrequent that none knew she was carrying except for Cassian – who had miraculously managed to keep the secret. Azriel let the shield around her slip away though Nesta grimaced at the thought of males sniffing her baby in her womb. That was one aspect of being fae that still disturbed her.

Their unannounced visit was met with casual surprise – then they noticed Nesta’s massive bump and it quickly turned to celebration though she couldn’t drink with them and no position was particularly comfortable anymore.

The group had hesitantly turned to Cassian, expecting him to be warped by trauma at the sight of his ex-mate carrying another male’s child, but Cassian let out a laugh. ‘Finally! It’s been so hard to keep this secret.’

‘You knew?’

Cassian scoffed. ‘I knew before Az. You see, Mor, I can keep a secret.’

Mor’s mouth dropped open. ‘That’s the first secret you have kept in five hundred years.’

The remainder of the pregnancy went well. Nesta did not know what she had done to deserve Azriel. He was so gentle and caring with her, massaging her swollen feet and hands, running baths then helping her in and out of the water, not minding when her hormones bubbled up and she cried hysterically at the dead sparrow that Devlon had dragged in. He was so attentive to her every need. Him – and the shadows. If Azriel had to depart then at least one shadow would remind behind, trailing Nesta throughout the house when she had stopped working in the city. And if it wasn’t the shadows, then the cat would curl up as close as he could to her bump on the couch leaving fuzzy, grey hair on every single surface.

The labour was fine because she had Azriel supporting her thought it. It was not commonplace for mortal males to be anywhere near their wife when she delivered a child, so Nesta has assumed Azriel would wait outside. He’d been utterly horrified at the idea of leaving her with just a healer. Throughout he was calm and comforting, holding a cold press to her forehead and being exactly what she needed.

When he arrived, Nesta couldn’t help but gloat that she had been correct. They had chosen a mortal name for their little boy although he’d been born with his father’s wings and a thick crop of black hair a few days after Feyre’s birthday. The Illyrian genes proved stronger than hers. His big brown eyes and dainty wings were the most beautiful things she had ever set eyes on. It brought Nesta so much joy to see Azriel cradling Joseph to his chest. She’d sit and watch with Devlon purring on her lap, marking all the similarities between her tiny son and her husband. Sometimes the pair of them would marvel over Joseph’s delicate fingernails in disbelief that they had created something so perfect.

Rovena stayed with them for the first week, helping them figure out how to manage a baby. Her help was invaluable in those initial sleep-deprived days. For Nesta, the struggle was managing a baby with wings because she was scared that she might somehow damage them. If Rovena wasn’t helping with Joseph, she was cleaning or doing their laundry. She’d even cooked enough meals to last them a few days after she had returned to Illyria.

Once Rovena had left, they allowed the others to visit and Joseph was spoilt with gifts and love from all of the inner circle. He was so adored by all, but especially by his father’s shadows. Often, they swirled around whoever was holding the baby protectively, or if he was sleeping in a basket, a few would peer in and watch. Elain had queried whether they didn’t scare Nesta to be so close to him, but the shadows had only ever been curious little beings to her. Maybe one day, Joseph would inherit his father’s ability too.  

Azriel was incredible. It made Nesta love him more. Though nervous initially with fatherhood, he was taking it all in his stride – so much so that sometimes Nesta barely got a look in. At his first cry in the night, Azriel, who slept even lighter now, would hop from the bed and rush to him. Before Nesta could even blink and get out of bed, Azriel would bring Joseph to her for his feed then gaze at them both with adoration. He insisted on changing him so she could rest, and the moment he came home from working, he also insisted upon cooking dinner for them so Nesta could rest then too. Or he’d run her a bath so she could relax. Or if Joseph needed feeding whilst they were eating, Azriel would feed Nesta while she fed their son. She was turning into a fat house cat with the way that he spoilt her.

‘I loved you before. And then I loved you more when you were pregnant. Now? I don’t have words.’

Nesta shifted Joseph higher so he could latch onto her breast to feed. The dawn seeped in through the curtain and instead of trying to sleep a little longer, Azriel had chosen to lay beside them, stroking his son’s dark head.

‘I’d have fifty babies with you,’ he continued.

Nesta’s eyes widened in horror. ‘I’m not being pregnant fifty times.’

Azriel rolled onto his back, his wings taking up most of the space, and he made a grunt. ‘I wish.’

Even when she was full term and she’d felt sad about her body, Azriel had only ever looked at her with absolute desire – and ensured she knew it. They were still having sex at ten months pregnant though they had to be more creative and gentler with her massive bump. He’d barely been able to take his hands from her stomach, so pleased and proud he was that he had caused it. She was heavier now than before she was pregnant, but there was no pressure from Azriel in the slightest – especially not when he brought her something drizzled with chocolate and pumped with cream each time that he left the house.

They were lucky to have a very happy baby boy who was rarely fussy and only ever woke for a feed once in the night so they could still make time for each other. As he grew, Joseph’s favourite thing was for Nesta to blow raspberries on his tummy. He’d squeal and kick his legs or flap his wings. Or, for his father to take him on a very gentle flight around the garden which Nesta watched with her fingers covering her face.

Sometimes, Joseph would frown if Feyre held him as if he knew it wasn’t his mother but couldn’t work out why she looked so much like his mother. Thankfully, he was happy to go to anybody and the inner circle all wanted frequent cuddles with him. Rhys had taken up knitting and showed up at least once a week with a lumpy hat or pair of socks that he’d made with Feyre promising to try and distract him more. They tossed the items to Devlon who had a basket full of items that he tossed and clawed at.

Joseph had helped to heal the rift between them all. Cassian was a frequent visitor at the house still. He was the fun uncle who ran around the house and up the stairs with Joseph squealing and laughing as they jumped around like elephants. Joseph loved him. His face lit up whenever Cassian came by – and it gave Nesta and Azriel some respite to have a moment’s peace. Mor came only when accompanied by one of the others, as if she felt too ashamed to be in their presence after the chaos she’d caused. Nesta wouldn’t ever be her friend, but they could be civil to one another.

In order to be a better father and role model, Azriel had taken a step back from some of his duties. No longer did he spend hours in the dungeons of the Hewn City and emerge covered in blood for his high lord. He was better for it. His rage had been altered to a passion to be a good father for his son – although he already was. Nesta had never wanted this life. Had never wanted to be fae. She had only seen it as wars and magic, far beyond her comfort zone. Now, she had found her own little piece of happiness. Happiness was a home with people she loved – even if they both had wings and she was outnumbered by boys. There was nothing more special to Nesta than walking down Velaris’ busy, cobbled streets with her husband and son. They were able to walk in the sun without being shamed for loving each other despite their beginning. They were happy and everything was beautiful.

@rarephloxes @misteryhen @wannawriteyouabook @theleafpile @loysydark @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

[shelbystales]

Honor and Blood - Part Nine

ommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Read previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 -

Summary: you are a gypsy and your family lives near Birmingham. Tommy Shelby needs a favor and Johnny Dogs says you’re the one he should ask for. A meeting is scheduled and when Tommy meets you, he is instantly drawn to you.

Have in mind that this story happens in season 1 and the beef the Shelbys had with the Lees was solved before Tommy got the guns.

Warning: Swearing, angst

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Finishing up your hair, you looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Staring into your tired eyes at the reflection in the mirror: it's just one night. think about the contacts you're going to make, you kept trying to convince yourself that somehow this party would be a good thing, but being with a bunch of rich and stuck-up people wasn't something you got much excited for.

Feeling your heart pounding hard in your chest and your palms starting to sweat at the thought of what might happen tonight, the looks you might get, or the insults you might have to handle... your chest felt heavy so you tried the breathing techniques your aunt taught you as a child. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to travel to a place that brought you tranquility.

You found yourself in the middle of the forest beautifully illuminated by the orange color of the sunset. Taffee was lying beside you. Birds singing and a delightful waterfall sound in the background. You knew that place was your favorite place in the last camp. Before your mother died, when she used to bring you there.

You opened your eyes, feeling calmer. This night is going to be a long night, you thought to yourself.

Your heart warmed at the memory of your mother. Instinctively you brought your hand to your chest searching for the emerald pendant, but then you remembered that you had taken it off. Your dress was bluish, so a necklace with three diamond stones was what you thought would go best with the rest.

Taking another deep breath, you put on your shoes and checked yourself in the mirror once again. You looked good, so posh... you didn't feel like yourself. Adjusting the necklace so it was in the right place you nodded to yourself "you don't even look like a gypsy" you mumbled to yourself not really knowing how you felt about it at all. Polly's voice came into your head "just don't let 'em change who you are," she said... yeah, good job y/n.

You grabbed an overcoat and walked out of your caravan. Saying goodbye to Taffe you got into the car that was waiting for you and your father

"a car?" you asked him surprised after he came in. he looked at you and nodded "my god..."

ignoring your comment and eye roll he said "won't your man come with us?"

you shrugged "his sister said he's out of town. haven't seen him in a while"

"hmm" your father growled and after that, he instructed the driver to go to the party

"What is that supposed to mean?" you asked feeling insulted

"nothing. good first impression" he replied looking out the window

"he doesn't have to prove anything to you," you said a bit annoyed

"oh, yeah sure" this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you

"Can we talk about something else?" you asked and he nodded "what am I supposed to do tonight?"

"And I'm the one who knows?" he asked raising his arms

"why did Kimber insist that I come along?"

"Maybe he thinks it's a favor. I don't know honey. he's a man with a few screws loose" he said without much interest and with that the conversation ended.

You started admiring the view outside the car while you were filled with doubts. Fuck, you need to stop questioning yourself and questioning everything, you thought.

arriving at the party Billy met you both at the door.

"Old red!" he exclaimed and slapped your father on the back as a friend would. looking at you he took your hand "Miss" he said with a charming smile and left a kiss on the back "I'm so glad you could come"

"thank you for the invitation," you said with a smile although you felt sick just by looking at him... for some reason, you couldn't handle him 

"Now, should we have fun before we talk business?" He smiled

"I believe it's best if we discuss business before we have fun" your father spoke

"who knew," Kimber said surprised "okay, follow me"

You followed the two of them to a large room at the end of a short, dark hallway. The room was full of books and there was a huge window behind the desk.

"Oh, sweetheart," Kimber said approaching you as you walked in, placing his hand on your lower back he guided you outside. his touch making you feel weird "don't worry about this nuisance... let us men take care of it, go have fun"

Standing in the doorway, you looked at your father with a pleading look, but he failed to attend

"it's ok honey. I'll be right out" he said and you frowned at him for a second before forcing a smile and nodding. The door closed in your face.

Walking around the party, you didn't feel as bad as you thought you would. people's attention was not on you, in fact, you felt invisible and it made you calmer.

"Hey!" a woman spoke while you were looking at the crowd near the buffet. You looked at her and saw a young woman, about your age, with black hair and eyes with skin so fair it looked like porcelain "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before. My name is Florence" she extended her hand

"Y/n. it's my first time here" you said squeezing her hand.

"It's nice to meet you y/n" she smiled "came alone?"

"with my dad, but he's... well I don't know" you lied with a smile on your face "probably lost in some skirt" you joked and she laughed

"aren't all men?" she asked making you smile honestly for the first time in the night

"Yeah...you're probably right," you said

"I also came with my dad" she pointed to an old man sitting on the sofa "he's quite old so... he doesn't have the energy to get lost in anyone's skirt" she smiled "but he likes to come to these events, so I bring him, some estimulation i guess. He stays home too much now he's having trouble walking. Age, it comes for us all"

"It sure does. So you come to these events often?" you asked and she nodded

"Yes. All the time"

"may I ask what is your family's business?"

"Yes, we have a fabric factory that sells worldwide"

"Oh, fun" you smiled feeling little 

"It's! Your turn" she sipped her drink

"Oh, nothing fancy... I have my own shop... where I sell some handmade tapestry, jewelry, and clothes"

"Uhh, you make them?"

"My family does... It's a new business, we just started last month"

"Oh! so you need contacts!"

"You got me" you shrugged smiling

She smiled and took a card from her purse.

"Congrats on a new contact" she smiled handing over to you the small paper "looking forward to seeing what kind of business we can do together. May I say that I really liked our conversation and I usually hate this sort of thing"

"I liked it too. I'll get in touch"

"Please do! Now before I go, let me introduce you to some people I think you could talk to" she grabbed your arm with her icy hands and guided you into a corner. "Here is the place where business happens. Downstairs, where the music is and where people dance and have fun, that's where they send the wives or where they go after they are finished. Now, ugly man with black hair and a green tie, over there on the left. he has a shoe company. I don't know if it would be of any use to you" you shook your head "ok, tell me what you're looking for"

"silver supplier, I've got a contract with one factory but I think i can do better... hmm, maybe some machines that help in the process... fabric I believe I've found one already" you smiled

"Oh I don't mind some competition" she slapped your arm playfully "here next to us, wine suit. He owns another fabric company, he doesn't believe in our power. On that thought, due to the fact that you're a woman, he'll probably give you a shitty deal. Near the door over there. the beautiful man in a brown suit. His name is Jonathan, he owns a silver company in town. he is a gentleman, not bragging but I got a piece of that" she laughed "but if you want options he is talking to another man that is also in the silver business, never spoke much to him though" she looked around for a while "oh over there, do you see that old woman in yellow with an old man in a plain normal suit and what seems to be a red tie? " you nodded "they can help with the machines. She is adorable and he is quiet, so she will do all the talking. There you go, now you don't have to waste much time, you have set targets"

"Thank you, Florence" you smiled

"You are very welcome. Now I have to go see if my dad needs anything, bye-bye y/n"

"Bye. We'll talk soon," you said and she walked away smiling. 

Looking around you decided to get to work fast so you could leave faster. 

When you finished talking to the very nice woman in yellow. You saw your father going down the stairs with Kimber. You said your goodbyes to the old couple and quickened your pace to get to them but stopped halfway when you saw something that made your stomach flutter badly.

Looking closer, not wanting to believe what your eyes were telling you, you saw Tommy dancing with the bartender. The dreams you had before, of him dancing with a random woman flashed your memory. Fucking hell, you thought. Your mouth went dry, you didn't know what to do. You felt like crying. 

All the worries and thoughts you had about what was going on between them came back like a bomb in your mind... you've been so cruel to yourself. You felt it in your gut. You have to start fucking believing in your sixth sense. Belittling your instincts, not believing in yourself, putting yourself down so that you could fucking fit and please. Polly was fucking right. 

Fuck don't go there, you told yourself, not now... you have to stay whole. you can't fall apart now.

she looked so good in her red dress, and he... was he smiling? why the fuck was he smiling?

you stood there, holding on strong to the parapet as you watched them dancing down below. As if your body had frozen. 

Billy and your father walked past them and sat at a table around the dance floor, at the table was another man. a smart-looking bespectacled man.

As soon as your father sat down at the table he looked around and his gaze found you, he smiled and waved discreetly. You forced a smile for him.

What would my father think? hey dad, so this is the man that I fucking fell for. Why does he have another woman here? I don't fucking know. wasn't he out of town? Yeah. He lied to you? I guess... He'll kill him. 

He made a sign with his hands asking you to come down and you nodded. Then he went back to talking to Kimber and the man with the glasses as a waitress served them drinks.

Looking for Tommy on the dance floor, you didn't find him.

Looking back to the table where your father was, you found him with his beautiful posh blond escort.

"Mister Shelby!" Kimber said getting up to greet him "and who are you?" he asked addressing Grace

"My name is Grace," she said as he left a kiss on the back of her hand

"You are here with Mister Shelby?" she nodded "Well it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Grace" he smiled "Tommy, I would like you to meet my fellow friend Mister Red" Duke stood up and extended his hand to Tommy Shelby. An amused look took over the old man.

"Nice to meet you," Thomas said as they shook hands

"Yeah, It iss Thomas. You know people also know me by Duke Sinclair" he said as he smiled. Tommy felt a knot in his throat. "You know my daughter don't you?"

"Yes," he swallowed hard. For some reason, he felt nervous. Would he tell you what he saw here? "She's a wonderful woman"

"I know. I made her" he joked

"And let's be real, who would think a beauty like her would come from you, hm red?" Kimber joked "where is she by the way?"

"She is here?" Tommy asked

"Yeah, she was just there" Duke pointed to where you were and smiled sarcastically at Thomas "seeing it all".

Fuck, Tommy thought closing his eyes for a second.

"Oh she's over there," Kimber said 

you approached them with apprehension. you decided to pretend everything was fine, pretending to be oblivious to all of that. You and Thomas never officialized anything... for all you knew you were single and so was he.

Thomas turned to where Kimber indicated. Fuck you look stunning, he thought when his eyes met you.

"Hi sweetie" your father wrapped you in a half-hug "Kimber just introduced me to your friend," he said with sarcasm in his voice.

"Please dad..." you asked drained while avoiding eye contact with Thomas

"Hi, y/n," Grace said smiling "I love your dress!"

You forced a smile "thank you" you answered

"Sit down y/n! Have a drink" Kimber said sitting back down

"Hm, actually... Dad, can we go home?" you asked and he raised one of his eyebrows intrigued "Please"

"Oh, come on! You just got here" Kimber said as your father kept his gaze on you. He could see you weren't happy, he knew you way too well. It would be mean of him to say no to you.

"Sorry, Kimber. Have to keep her happy or she will curse me to death" he joked 

"One last drink at least! This is one of the finest whiskey in town" Kimber said. Your father looked at you and you nodded. He then sat back down as he enjoyed his drink

"Y/n" Tommy called you as he pulled you aside "you look stunning," he said with a shy smile

"Fuck you" you whispered

he lowered his head a little "this is not what it looks like, y/n" he shook his head

"Yeah? To be honest I think I have narrowed it down to the simple fact that you invited her because you thought she had class and I didn't, because quite frankly look at her" you pointed "or you are fucking her" the last words got painfully dragged out of your mouth

"Ready to go, honey?" your father asked standing behind Thomas. You nodded

"Y/n, please," he said 

"save your excuses to someone who cares," you said and left.

You were quiet on the way home. Not a word was spoken. 

As you arrived you went straight to your caravan.

Around midnight someone knocked on your door as you were lying on your bed holding Taffee. swollen eyes and reddened skin from all the crying.

"Who is it?" you asked

"Your dad" he answered "may I come in?"

"No. Go away"

"Come on, Honey. It's freezing outside. Gonna let your old pops freeze?"

"Yes, get a coat the next time"

The door opened and he made his way in

"You didn't show up for dinner...so I brought soup" he smiled

You looked at him, not moving your body. And followed his movement with your eyes as he placed the smoking bowl on the table and walked closer to you

"You ok?"

"I'll be fine"

"had a really bad allergy today huh," he said squeezing the bridge of your red nose.

"Yeah, big one," you said and he smiled

"Honey, listen... maybe it's for the good. You could go after that baker now" he said making you smile

"yeah"

"Please eat the soup, ok?" he asked and you nodded "Good night my love" he left a kiss on your cheek "Take care of her taffee," he said petting her head before he made his way out.

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[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

Includes: dom!Carol, captain kink, brat taming, choking, degrading, fingering, edging, nipple clamps, clit clamp, thigh riding, spanking enhanced with powers, vibrator enhanced with powers, strap-on gagging and choking, strap-on sex and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn't meant to fuck up Carol's mission. You weren't that petty. But the look on her face when you disobeyed her direct order and took the shot was priceless.

You and Carol had never gotten on. The first time you laid eyes on her you were infuriated by her actions. The second time you met only amplified that.

You had been under cover for a year when she came along and screwed up your mission. It had taken a long time to be trusted by those you 'worked with'.

You had set up a buy with a huge advanced (and crazy irresponsible) weapons smuggling ring that would lead to you obtaining more of their weapons for SHIELD until eventually, hopefully, you would figure out the secrets to their operation and be able to take down the business.

Just as the dealers arrived at the abandoned warehouse Carol came flying in to take on the armed men, oblivious to the mission that was happening, in all her heroic glory.

"We got the weapons, it was a success."

After writing out the report and having a long convosation with Fury (most of which involved you describing Carol in ways Steve would have been outraged by) you had at least expected an apology from the blonde. You could still remember how that went down.

"It was not a success!" You almost screamed at Carol. It infuriated you to no end that after half an hour of talking she still didn't see the bigger picture. She really thought she had done the right thing.

"Yes we got the weapons - something I could have done on my own - but that's such a small part of the rest of what they're making."

"You don't know how much there is." Carol said, her voice as calm as ever as she leant against Fury's desk with her arms crossed.

"That's the point." You said through gritted teeth, determined not to loose your cool infront of her and Fury. "My mission was to find out and put a stop to it."

"There are guys in holding. They'll talk."

You almost laughed at that. "If I could ask them my way they definitely would." You silently cursed SHIELD's moral codes that stopped you from torturing the answer out of them. They wouldn't talk any other way.

"They'll talk." Carol said stubbornly. "And anyway, you should be thanking me for cutting your mission short."

And that was it. From that moment on you couldn't look at the woman without wanting to slap her. That had been months ago.

Despite you never hiding your dislike for Carol she never seemed to mind you. In fact, she tried to be around any chance she could. Always looking for ways to get on your final nerve, everything she did she did for your reactions that you had grown worse at suppressing.

You took some of it out on her during training. It bothered her but thrilled you that you too were on the same level in combat. Apart from the times she was a sore looser and used her powers.

But you had made a strong effort to avoid training with her too. She taunted you during fighting. Although you were used to it it struck different when her body was pressed against yours to pin you to the floor.

Your most shameful day was when her actions had sent a jolt to your core that you couldn't deny.

Carol looked down at you with an insanely arrogant smirk as she straddled your waist. She was always like this in her moments of victory, always wanting to rub it in.

"Wow, you gave in quickly today." She quipped, not even trying to hide the obvious undertones. That didn't even make sense!

You weren't about to give in when she looked so god damn smug. You gripped her shirt with two hands and lifted your hips to flip her off but she caught on both too quickly and too late. She lurched forward into your grip but instantly pinned your hands above your head as her legs fell down next to yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realised her face was inches from your own, it was only then that you become aware of the darker specs of brown in her eyes that highlighted the lighter shades. They were beau- okay. They were okay eyes. Yours were better.

The corner of her mouth raised in her familiar smirk that you always despised. But being that close brought light to how soft her lips looked. They were slightly parted and you wondered what kind of things she could do with that mouth. Professional things of course. Strictly professional and tactical thing. Not sinful things at all...

You wanted those thoughts banished from your head immediately. You wanted to leave.

All too hastily, you tried to raise your hips again, only then noticing how Carol's new position had her core right over yours. The contact and friction was undeniable, as was the slow throbbing that started.

A quiet moan slipped from your mouth that you desperetly coughed to cover up. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see if Carol had noticed.

"Get off me, Carol." You huffed, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"What? You don't like me ontop of you?" She smirked.

God you definetly did.

As much as you tried to ignore that memory and replace it with the time you were first introduced you rarely succeeded. And even then it was like your hatred for her only encouraged how much you wanted to feel her deep insi-

"Are you even listening to me?!" Carol yelled at you with a glare. You never zoned out during meetings. Carol knew that. Fury knew that. Yet it was still very clear you just had.

"Are you done rambling?" You quipped, not having a moment to place the filter over your mouth as the thought spilled out.

Fury arched a brow at the question and Carol's jaw clenched in an annoyingly attractive way. You did not regret that one bit.

"If I hadn't taken the shot the hostages would have died."

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

There had been some sort of detonator with the man holding the hostages. Once dead, the storage he had loaded into his truck had been destroyed and nothing was salvageable. That was important cargo, but you always put a priority on lives. Taking the bad ones more than saving the good ones admittedly.

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

"I don't think you understand how valuable that cargo was."

The meeting continued like that for a while. You would never admit it to anyone, especially as fucking up the mission wasn't intentional, but seeing how the tables had turned from the last time the three of you were in that office? It made you happier than it should have.

You guessed the two of you were even now. Maybe she would finally leave you alone. Your happiness faulted at that thought.

Finally, Fury told you and Carol to go and that it would be discussed again tomorrow. He was clearly tired. It had been a long day and it was late, everyone else was already asleep.

Even as you trudged down the hallway Carol continued to rant about your inability to follow orders. You would be the first to admit you weren't a team player. You still weren't used to it. But you always follow orders.

"I can follow orders, Captain. I just choose not to follow yours." You said calmly as approached the hallway towards your room.

You hated that Carol's room was next to yours. You had been there when Carol had talked to Tony about staying at the Avengers compound. You had seen her sly smirk as she pointed out on the compound map which room she wanted. Knowing full damn well it was next to yours.

How long did she plan to keep this up? You definetly didn't bug her about her screw up as long as she was you. Why couldn't she just hold the grudge in silence like you?

"You put aside personal matters when you go on a mission, y/n." She continue to scorn.

"Not personal, Captain. I just know when a decision and order is bullshit." Your room finally came into your line of sight. Just a few more meters.

"It wasn't bullshit. It was the right call. You just refuse to do what I tell you to." You rolled your eyes at her insistence, something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"The whole thing would have been fucked if I followed your orders. You should be thanking me." You taunted with a smile. But before you could fully bathe in your victory of getting under her skin, Carol gripped your neck tightly and slammed you into the wall.

You eyes widened as your back hit the wall painfully and you struggled to comprehend that Carol's hand was really around your neck...and you liked it.

"What? Got nothing to say to your Captain now?" She smirked. A familiar jolt travelled throughout your body and rested between your legs at her words.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Her hand, her words and the tone that accompanied them. You could always tell Carol was a top, but a dom?!

"If I could go back..." You started, your voice quiet with an edge of fear that made Carol preen. "And do the mission again...." Carol watched your face intently, awaiting your words of apology. "I still wouldn't follow your orders. Because I don't take orders from yo-" Carol stepped forward and forced one of her legs between yours.

You bit you lip to stop yourself moaning at the friction she was causing, the urge to grind against her leg was strong.

"Brat." She whispered with poison dripping from her voice. Her warm breath hit the small area of skin her hand wasn't covering and her hair tickled you chin.

"I have just the thing to deal with that. You wont be keeping up that facade for long."

You were about to object and assure her you would. That your stubbornness was just as strong as hers and you had been down this road before with others.

As she moved away from you she gripped your shirt in her closed fist and pulled you away from the wall with her. You hated that you instantly missed the contact of her thigh between yours. But her rough nature was doing it for you too. It had been so long since someone had been rough with you and you yearned to feel that again.

Carol had barely opened her door when she pushed you through the gap into her room. You were about to take in your surroundings and even pause to assess what was happening, but Carol's hands were on you again and all doubt slipped from your mind.

The next thing you knew your face was engulfed by soft pillows before you felt Carol's strong presence above you.

You could feel her knees on either side of your waist, pressed against you as though caging you beneath her. Her hands entwined with the back of your own and held them above your head under the pillows.

You went to move your hips up out of instinct from your training but Carol was too strong. She didn't even flinch from you efforts, clearly overpowering you in strength.

You reminded yourself you would not, under any circumstances, let Carol win.

You wouldn't apologise for the mission, wouldn't do what she said and you would not fully submit to her. It was something you truly believed, Carol knew this and it made everything you eventually did all the more worthit.

You could never imagine or anticipate the things you would let her do to you that night or the desperate way you would beg her to do them.

Her hair tickled your exposed neck as she leant down to whisper into your ear. "Anything you want to say to me before I begin? Perhaps an apology?" Carol questioned, knowing you would say no such thing but wanting to have more ammunition for later on.

You chuckled into the pillows before replying. "Go fuck yourself." It was muffled. But Carol understood.

She didn't reply verbally, instead she leant further against your body as her hands left yours and wandered down your arms.

Carol inhaled the scent around your neck as her hands reached your shoulders and decended to trace your collarbones that were visible from your shirt being lowered.

The blonde took her time memorizing every inch of your body, especially cupping your clothed breasts in her hands and ever so slightly grinding herself against you as she did so.

You reminded yourself to control your breathing as you felt those motions, not allowing yourself to be caught up in the firm grip of her hands against your breasts or the way she used your body to gain some friction to her core.

Her hands continued to massage your lower stomach, admiring the feel of your finally formed abs in a way she never could when you trained.

You kept your head amongst the pillows when her fingers danced around the waistband of your trousers. You didn't want Carol to see the anticipating look on your face at the touch of her fingers. They barely dipped half an inch beneath your trousers and panties but the contract gave you chills. You wanted to feel her against your bare skin more.

Carol retracted her fingers and instead wordlessly moved them to the centre of your trousers and unbuttoned them. You could hear her pull your zip down in the deafening silence of the room and you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation again.

She didn't hesitate once in her movements. With undeniable certainty, Carol slipped her hand under your trousers and panties to meet the space between your legs that welcomed her.

Carol sighed into the crook your neck as her fingers met your wetness between your slick lips. You bit your lip to stop any sounds escaping your mouth as the arrogant hero swiped a single finger slowly through your eager folds. She collected the arousal on her fingers before pressing it firmly to your clit.

Your hips rolled into her hand before you could stop them and the action caused a smug grin from Carol that although you couldn't see, you could feel against your skin. It was considerably worse and amplified your arousal as Carol could tell.

You hated feuling her ego. You hated that she had made you so wet your throbbing clit would slip around her fingers when she had barely touched you.

"Such a wet little brat. You're so ready for me and I've barely touched you." Carol husked as her finger continued to alter between running through your folds and rubbing your clit lightly.

It took every ounce of self control in your body not to squirm against her or make any noise. Your pride helped you keep those actions at bay.

Carol gripped your chin with her free hand and turned your head away from the pillow. You tried to avoid making eye contact with the blonde, knowing it would make your self control waver, but her hand continued to guide your line of sight to her enchanting gaze.

Her face was so close to yours you were completely caught off guard when Carol's finger pushed inside you and was engulfed by your lower lips with ease.

You bit your lip hard at the action, still staring into Carol's eyes and refusing to be the one to look away first. The intense eye contact did you no favours in holding off your verbal signs of arousal, especially when her single digit curled to brush your most pleasurable spot.

You gave a breathy moan when Carol held her finger against your g-spot for a long moment before withdrawing it, your eyes marginally widening as you adjusted to the pleasure, something Carol wouldn't have noticed if your faces weren't so close.

Her finger pushed back in at a slow pace but always stroked the back of your pussy in an angelic way.

You moaned louder when Carol returned with two fingers, the additional surface area made the experience all the more pleasurable and you feared how quickly you would cum.

Carol studied your facial expressions as she fingered you slowly, figuring out the spots that made you preen in pleasure the most and even the best angles to approach it.

It didn't take her long to understand the eb and flow of your pussy better than anyone ever had. With this powerful knowledge, Carol's pace suddenly increased in an overwhelming way you could barely adjust to.

She fucked you hard and fast with her fingers. Her wrist twisted in the most agile ways that caused her fingers to burry deep within you.

You moaned continuously as you stared into Carol's brown eyes you were beginning to remember better than your own.

The pleasure was immense and you knew your orgasm would hit you hard. Your breathing became rapid and your walls clenched down on Carol's fingers desperetly as your body prepared for your release.

Carol's fingers increased in pace as she gripped your chin harder, ensuring you look at her as her smirk finally returned.

Just as you were about to explode around Carol's fingers she retracted them from your throbbing pussy and brought them up to her lips as she grinned at you.

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

"What? You didn't really think I would let you cum so soon did you? You haven't earned the right. Unless, of course, you'd like to make an apology." Carol said as her eyes bore deep into yours.

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

Carol clicked her tongue in disapproval before finally looking away from you. Her fingers returned to your waistband, only this time she pulled your trousers down swiftly, deliberately leaving your soaking panties clinging to you.

She then got off the bed and strolled confidently towards her walk in closet for a few seconds, returning with a few pieces of metal you weren't surprised to be seeing yet still gave you goosebumps. Carol's keen eyes seemed to notice this and she grinned knowingly to herself.

You shifted onto your side to get a clearer view of the devices attached to the long silver chain, once Carol reached your side she roughly forced your shoulder down so you were laying on your back.

"You're very pushy you know?" You quipped as Carol moved to straddle you hips and placed the metal beside you.

Her jaw clenched tightly in annoyance of your words but she didn't look at you, instead running her hands along your lower abdomen beneath your shirt. Seeing her frustration at you, especially the slight heavy exhale through her nose very few would notice, helped you control the urge to shiver under Carol's touch.

"I hope you can do other things with that mouth of yours besides bitching, for your own sake." Carol said lowly before gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

"It can work wonders," you winked at her with a grin, "and it's nice to know you care, Captain, not just a big, mean, dom I see."

Carol's hand wrapped tightly around your throat just as you finished your sentence. She glared at you with clear rage in her eyes, a look that made putting up your hard front difficult. You had a strong urge to apologise, but you instead pushed it aside.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to go ease on you at any point you are sadly mistaken, brat. I'm not done with you until you're a begging, quivering, pathetic mess that's forgotten her own name and only knows her Captain. Even then I won't take any pity because of the shit you keep pulling. Whores dont deserve sympathy." Your breathing was shaky as the words dripped from her mouth laced with poison, threatening to be the end of you.

You were made acutely aware of her grip of your neck tightening and her ability to cut it off and never let you breathe again. You weren't sure at what point you had given over all control, but you didn't want it to stop.

Carol leaned in next to your ear and her scent enveloped your sences again. Her voice had dropped considerably when she next spoke her whispered words. "I can't wait to break you." She bit down on your ear harshly making you yelp. You couldn't deny the effect she was having on your body, she could see it too. Of course she could, she was playing you like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a thrilling realisation.

Carol pulled away from you slowly while you tried to return your breathing to it's normal pace. It wasn't until you heard Carol's deep chuckled that you realised that your eyes were clenched shut. You opened them to see the blonde looking very proud of herself and the result she had gotten.

You couldn't make another witty remark. Your brain couldn't form any kind of coherent thought and you wouldn't have trusted your mouth to deliver it. Besides, after what Carol had just said, you were afraid to speak out of term again.

The self-certain hero reached around your back to unclasp your bra as her other hand came to rest on your stomach, pressing down as she used it for support while she leant forward.

Carol's eyes eagerly took in every inch of your skin the moment it was exposed. She slowly pulled your bra away before flinging it across the room without taking her eyes off of your breasts.

The cold air hitting your skin made your nipples strain in a want for attention, although you and Carol both knew that wasn't the only reason. Carol hummed at the sight and leaned forward again to rub your buds between her thumb and fingers. Your head leant back into the pillows at the attention, sighing in bliss before you hissed sharply at the the spark of pain.

The blonde smiled in amusement as she continued to pinch your nipples harshly, you didn't protests out of stubbornness.

Carol then picked up the forgotten clamps next to you, trailing the chain slowly and deliberately over your sensitive skin. She attached the left clamp with a silent concentration that filled the room with tension. You hissed again as Carol adjusted the screw to the level she saw fit, which was scarily tight, before moving to the next with the same accuracy.

You closed your eyes and tried not to enjoy the throbbing pain on you nipples, but the growing slick between your legs was telling enough.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard to suppress a whimper, failing when Carol gave the chain a quick tug that made you give a strained whimper that sounded more pathetic than it would have if you hadn't tried to stop it.

Carol moved further down your body and spread your legs apart so she could sit between them. You could feel the chain extending down your stomach so you opened your eyes in confusion and instantly squirmed.

The two clamps had separate chains that looped around a small ring that lay on your stomach, twinkling mischeviously in the light. There was a third chain on the bottom of the ring that had a clamp at the end of it. A clamp that Carol was guiding dangerously close to your still covered core.

You had had experience with clamps before, but the thought of one pinching painfully at your throbbing clit was one you were unfamiliar and uncertain with.

Carol adjusted herself according to your newfound protests to kneeling on your legs, each knee digging into each of your thighs as a show of control. Your hands were still free and just as you were about to sit up Carol spoke with a fake pout.

"Aww, do you not think you can handle this? Are you too sensitive?" She mocked making you freeze. "I can always stop if you want me to. All you have to do is say the magic word." The blonde continued to taunt.

Your pride screamed at you to make some snarky remark as to protect your ego, knowing saying 'please' would lead to you spiralling down the rabbit hole you refused to step foot in, while your fear begged you to stay quiet. But there was also a small part of you that was eager to experience the pleasurable pain the clamp would surely deliver to your clit.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep an eye on Carol in your peripheral while appearing to ignore her.

She smirked, unbeknownst to you, at your pettiness and trailed a single finger against the wet patch on your panties. You struggled to continue looking at the ceiling and bucked your hips to try and meet Carol's hand.

Surprisingly, Carol let you and even pressed further against your panties, rubbing your clothed lips and relishing in the effect she had on you.

Carol teased you like that for a while, rubbing her finger against your soaking folds before circling your throbbing clit. Every so often she received a quiet whine from you that flooded you with embarrassment, hating how your body betrayed you and pleased Carol.

Finally, Carol pulled your ruined panties down and gleamed at the sight of your glistening folds, the view making her pussy clench around nothing and ache more than it had all night. An idea sprung to mind and she smirked at the thought.

She took the third clamp between her long fingers and pinched at your clit. You yelped and bucked your hips up again as Carol entrapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So responsive." She muttered, more to herself than you, as she slowly twisted the screw. Her eyes returned to your pained face as she adjusted the tightness, studying you to see when you would reach the peak of your pain and your limit.

Your face scrunched up at the sharp pain that jolted throughout your body and made you whine lowly as you turned your head to the side and tried to squirm away.

Carol took another glance at your strained bud, biting her lip at the sight, before gripping your under arms and flipped you onto your back.

You were surprised and caught off guard but all questions flew from your mind when you were pushed against the mattress, the clamps pressing down and amplifying your pain.

A tear formed in your eye as your nipples burned hot in pain and your clit ached against its restraint. You whined and tried to squirm away, the inch you did move only made things worse as your dragged the clamps and the skin they pinched across the mattress. You gave a small cry at the pain but pushed your face into the pillows to muffle it, still trying with everything you had to not let Carol win.

You were so caught up in the unnatural pain you didn't even notice Carol stripping herself of her jeans and pants. But you did notice when you felt her wet pussy lips come into contact with the back of your thigh.

You brain short circuited when you felt how wet she was and that she was slowly rocking herself on your leg, using your body to get herself off.

"What are you-"

"Quiet." Carol cut you off by demanding as her hands locked yours to the top of the mattress again.

Her arousal was spreading across your thigh as she grinded against you.

You could feel your own breathing increase rapidly as you heard Carol gasp out occasionally. You wanted to see her. You wanted to see the look of pleasure on her face as she approached her high. What did she look like cuming? Did you feel good against her? Would she ever let you make her cum with your fingers or tongue. You prayed desperetly that you would someday get the chance.

"Fuck." Carol moaned breathlessly. Your own pussy clenched around nothing at the sound and you knew that while Carol was getting her wetness over your thigh, you were getting your own on her bed.

Carol's grip on your hands tightened as her movements became more erratic, chasing her release.

"Your Captain's gonna cum on your thigh, brat. Such a good fuck toy for me to use." A moan slipped past your lips at her words. You cursed yourself for giving the reaction Carol wanted, helping her frantic movements.

"Oh you like this, slut? You like being my little fuck toy for me to use whenever I want?"

You desperetly searched for friction on the bed covers as you whined, only to accidently apply more overwhelming pressure to all 3 clamps.

Carol's cunt dug harder into the back of your thigh as she came with a low moan, coating your skin with the evident of her orgasm.

Surprisingly, Carol didn't move from your thigh as she brought a soft hand around to the soaking space between your legs. She tugged momentarily on the clamp there and you whimpered in protest making her snicker.

She fingers teased your lower lips as she spoke. "You seemed to enjoy that just as much as I did." Carol smirked arrogantly as her fingers swiped at your arousal. "Answer me." She demanded, delivering a smack to your ass to punctuate her words.

You didn't. Instead your breathed into the pillows and tried not to think about how they smelled like Carol in an annoyingly soft way.

Carol spanked you again harshly, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the last.

"No." You lied shakily.

"Don't lie to me. You're only adding to your punishment, not that I mind. It's just drawing out the fun I'm having. Being a lying little slut gives me something else to fuck out of you too." Carol spanked you again as those words left her lips. She gripped your hips tightly and pulled you up so your ass was on full display to her.

When Carol's hand returned to your ass her hand was considerably warmer. You thought it was strange at first until she did it again, this time burning hot.

You moaned into the pillow as your realised Carol was using her powers. And you loved it. The hellish heat, Carol's brute strength and the merciless ways she delivered the blows with no recovery time hit your core everytime.

Your legs shook in pleasure and pain and your moans got notably louder. Sometimes when you tried to lean back into Carol's hand she tugged sharply at the ring connecting the chains on your clamps and you immediately returned to your position.

"Something to say?" Carol inquired after a particularly loud moan from you.

It dawned on you how close you were to submitting yourself to Carol. How close you were to telling her you loved every second of what she was doing and wanted her to fuck you.

So, to convince yourself more than the dominant blonde above you, you spoke up. "Need your powers to help you, Carol? Can't do it on your own?"

The pissed off blonde spanked you unbelievably hard after that. Your whole body lurched forward so suddenly you almost hit your head on the wall. You ass was stinging terribly and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek just after you cried out.

Carol got off the bed to once again disappear into the closet, giving you a moment to wipe the stray tear away so she could never know it was there.

When the powerful hero returned your eyes immediately fell to the obnoxious toy between her legs.

You bit your lip at the thought of her fucking you with it. Despite that, you were in denial that something that long and girthy would even fit. Although you knew Carol would make it fit. And with the blonde as pissed as she was...

"God you're practically drooling on my sheets." Your cheeks redened slightly at her words. "You want my cock, brat? You wanna be your Captain's cockslut?" God you did. But you refused to admit it, even if there was a moan caught in your throat.

"It isn't for your needy little pussy yet. It's to shut you up." Carol said as she straddled your chest, the strap inches away from your face.

"I'm not sucking your fucking strap, Carol." You tried to defy passively with an amused grin. You wanted to, so much. The thought of doing something like that was making your cunt pulse. But you might as well get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You refused to please Carol with such a submissive act, even if you could feel the cracks in your bratty walls grow with each exchange of words and acts.

To your surprise, Carol didn't push the idea any more, simply nodding with a sly smirk, as though she knew something you didn't.

Instead, the taller woman grabbed a small device from the side of the bed you had failed to notice prior. She twirled it in her hand, as though familiarizing herself with it as she positioned herself between your legs again, a place she seemed to be becoming familiar with.

As you gazed at the toy Carol held you couldn't help but feel there was something different about it. Something you couldn't quite placed. It wasn't as slim as any vibrator you had ever seen, not as pointed either, but there was something else to it too.

You didn't voice these inquires and the blonde didn't make any suggestive comments. So you let the thoughts go.

With her free hand, Carol unscrewed the clamp that had continued to grip onto you with everything it had. The release of pressure was unimaginably relieving but you didn't get long to appreciate it.

Carol wordlessly turned the vibrator on to a high setting and teased it against your skin just above your clit. Your hips jerked instantly in an attempt to lower the vibrator to where you needed it, but Carol placed a firm hand between your hip bones and kept you in place.

You almost whined at that, trying hard to keep it at bay, but Carol soon placed it directly onto your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked again as the vibrations hit you hard. The lack of a tip stopped them being focused to one point and instead pulsed down to every milimeter of your clit.

Despite this newfound pleasure, you couldn't shake the unnerving silence from Carol that hung in the room. Just as her lack of teasing with the vibrator hung over you. It seemed as though she was purely focused on drawing out your own pleasure, abandoning any precious plans. You knew that wasn't really the case. But you didn't know what was. It was anxiety inducing not knowing what Carol was planning in that stubborn head of hers.

The silent blonde watched you as she rotated the vibrator, grinding it into you like a drill that buzzed furiously. The vibrations were sending strong shock waves to your core that were carried throughout the entirety of your body in bliss.

Just as you were about to mentally praise yourself for not making a noise the vibrations seemed to multiple at an alarming rate.

You moaned the loudest you had all night at the feeling of warmth covering your core, emitting off of the vibrator that centred in on your aching clit that was drenched in arousal. Your hips tried to buck violently in search for the source of the vibrations that pulsed almost angrily.

You finally braved a look down as you panted heavily amongst moans to see what could possibly cause such uncharted pleasure only to spot the blue, yellow and red swirls of light you had come to hate the sight of. In that moment you didn't hate them though, far from it. You were entranced by the light show from Carol.

Your legs attempted to close around Carol's hand and the vibrator, but she held them apart. She watched you with an arrogant smirk as you threw your head back and moaned continuously, just as she had planned.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like me using my powers on you. You seem to be enjoying it now, judging by your slutty moans that is." She taunted knowingly.

You're unable to muster the voice to say something, to defend your ego. All you can do try to stop yourself moaning Carol's name or title.

Your breathing became increasingly ragged as Carol's powers never let up, mercilessly pulsing waves of vibrations to your core repeatedly until your legs started to shake.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as your clit throbbed aggressively, desperate to reach it's release it craved so much.

Your moans became less coherent when your back arched and toes curled. Just as you were about to fall over that glorious edge all vibrations died down to barely noticeable sensation.

You whined lowly at the worst teasing you had ever felt. It was as though Carol held you over your much needed edge by the back of your shirt, keeping you in that vulnerable state until she decided to either pull you back or let you go.

"Do you need something?" Carol asked with a shit eating grin.

You brought your hands down to push the vibrator further against you but Carol pinned them together in the middle of your stomach with one hand. The strength of just that was able to stop you and it was frustrating to no end knowing that.

Her other hand stayed firmly attached to the vibrator that was quietly buzzing against you core. Carol occasionally messed around with the vibrations levels and the inclusion of her powers to take you by surprise, constantly keeping you on the edge of where you needed to be most.

"Jesus Christ!" Your frustration bubbled to the surface, unable to control your anger at Carol for the merciless teasing she was making you ensure.

"Nope, just your Captain." If you had control of your legs, you would have kneed her in that stupidly attractive face of hers.

The vibrations were becoming too much yet still too little. Every so often they would spike to the previous level before returning to something unfairly light. Your orgasm seemed to grow closer and closer each time before it was denied.

Once, Carol slipped the powered vibrator through your drenched folds with her powers lining it. It felt insane. Energy tickling your inner walls as the vibrations hit all the right areas. But, of course, it was quickly pulled away too.

Just like that, all defiance left your body and you surrendered to your needs.

"Carol, Please, I need to cum so bad!" You wailed in desperation, not caring how you sounded.

"Really?" Carol wondered aloud as she stared down at you.

"Yes! Carol..." You whined and returned her stare pleadingly.

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

You gulped stiffly, knowing you were about to slip head first into the rabbit hole you had been avoiding so precisely all night.

"You...My Captain." Carol preened at the use of her title, something she had long awaited to hear you say and was sure you would need no encouragement to say it countless more times that night.

"Good girl." She husked and carelessly threw the vibrator to the side now she could use something better. "You want your Captain to fuck you? You wanna cum on my cock like a good little slut?"

Your nodded eagerly, knowing the only way was forward and that you would do anything for what Carol wanted to do to you.

"Please Captain, I want you so bad." You begged shameless.

"Well then you need to get my cock ready for your cunt." Carol stated matter-of-factly as she sat up straight and edged towards you.

The silicone toy between her legs was getting nearer to your face and your mouth watered at the sight, knowing you would need it to help accomdate the size.

You were so dazed by the sight of the toy bigger than you had ever seen that Carol had to tap your cheek to prompt you to open your mouth for her strap.

You did so instantly and without hesitation, quickly having the tip of the silicone toy at your mouth.

"Such an obidient baby now. You would do anything for my cock wouldn't you?" But Carol didn't give you a chance to respond. She thrusted her hips forward and in a flash she was forcing the strap into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

The blonde retreated the strap slightly only to ram it back in with more force and causing you to gag as it surpassed your limit without consideration.

You tried to sit up on your elbows to try and soften Carol's thrusts but she knelt down painfully on your arms as she gripped the headboard to aid her thrusting.

"I haven't even got you tired up and you're still so helpless." She mocked cruelly as she continued to make you gag and choke on the toy you struggled to accomdate so badly.

Eventually it became too much and you body fell limp in defeat, drool spilling from your mouth.

Carol didn't fail to notice this and chuckled darkly at the sight of you spread out on her bed with a dazed expression. She hadn't even fucked you yet.

As the dominant hero withdrew her strap she felt a rush to her core at the sight of your saliva glistening on her cock. You really had gotten it ready for yourself. Not that it would help you handle the size much.

Carol didn't waste and time lining the strap up with your entrance. Her hands were firmly placed on either of your thighs to ensure you stay spread open for her.

"Please." You whispered as you both watched the strap part your folds, paving a way for itself, before disappearing into your hungry pussy. You moaned loudly as the strap stretched your walls for it's entrance. You couldn't help but cling onto Carol's bare back and scratch the prominent muscle beneath your fingers as she sunk the strap in further.

The pain was present but it was overridden by the amazing pleasure provided by it. Your pussy clenched desperately around the intruder just before Carol bottomed out into you and you cried out at the unexpected motion, gripping onto the woman above you as much as you could.

She pulled the strap out slightly, only to slam it back in with force that made your whole body jerk and shudder. She pulled out more the next time, as though giving you a moment to prepare before thrusting the toy back into your still unprepared cunt.

You moaned over and over, struggling to form words and accomdate the brutal strap. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and pain as they took over every part of your brain, body and soul.

Her pace never faulted, never giving you a break. Every thrust was just as hard as the last, leaving you a moaning and shuddering mess beneath her.

"You feel how deep I am inside you, slut?" Carol grunted as she continued her onslaught of fucking tour dripping pussy.

"Yes Captain! Feels so good. You feel so good deep inside me." You moaned between breathless pants.

"God you're such a desperate slut for me. Dripping whore for me to use whenever I want." She punctuated each word with the snap of her hips.

The coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten and you craved your release.

"C-Captain." You stuttered as you started to shudder. "I'm gonna...cum."

"Beg me for it." Carol demanded and you complied without question.

"Please! Please Captain, I'm gonna cum so hard! Please let me! I'll be good for you." You begged as though Carol held your life in her hands.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because I- because I'm sorry!" You looked Carol in the eyes as you pleaded, letting you see her expression when she knew she had won. You both knew.

"How sorry?" Carol asked as her pace increased. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm for much longer.

"I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." Carol watched you for a moment as she memorized every inch of you during her victory.

"Cum for your Captain." With a cry, you came incredibly hard on Carol's cock. Your whole body shuddered violently as Carol fucked you through your orgasm in the most ungentle way possible.

"I'm cuming! I'm cuming on your cock, Captain!" Never in your life did you think you would talk like this to someone, especially not Carol. Never since meeting the arrogant hero did you think you would submit to her in such a wanton way.

Carol fucked you through your orgasm and into another one without even considering giving you a break or chance to recover from the earth shattering one you had just experienced. Your vision was still spotted with blanks as you tried to speak this to her but you couldn't manage to form any coherent words, the only sounds resonating throughout the room were your desperate moans, slapping of Carol's thighs against your own and the wet sound of your pussy being fucked, this being amplified even more now that your cum was swirling around inside of you with the strap.

Carol unexpectedly reached out quicker than you could react to and locked her hand around your throat. Her pace was harder this time, as though reminding you she hadn't forgotten she was punishing you and that she was still mad at you. Clearly very mad.

The strap slammed against the back of your pussy and had you crying out in a failed attempt to adjust to it. Even that was muffled by Carol's grip on your airways.

You couldn't believe the force she was able to gather to drive herself into you with each thrust. Over and over. You began to loose your grip on the world around you.

You plummeted into another orgasm in no time, your overworked pussy spasming around the strap as it released more sticky liquid onto it that you were too blissed out to notice was dripping onto yours and Carol's thighs. She smacked your thigh hard to show she at least had acknowledged it.

You lost count of how many times you had cum. When your limbs went weak and finally dropped from Carol's back she withdrew. Something you were thankful for until she flipped you onto your front and dove back in. Her stamina and sex drive was unforgivable and unmatched. And soon, it was the only thing you knew.

You continued to moan and scream profanities into the pillow while Carol wrecked your world above you. She had your head forced into the pillows with one hand and showed no signs of letting up.

You mustered as much energy as you could to squirm away but your efforts were futile. Your pussy ached with the punishing pace and extreme overstimulation you were experiencing. But you had no way to escape it. All you could do was lay beneath your Captain, voice horse from screaming so loud countless times, and take everything she was giving.

When the final orgasm was ripped from your body it was as though it had taken every part of you with it. Your exhausted and overworked body finally abandoned you and left you to be enveloped by the darkness and the strong arms of Carol Danvers.

[beanieman]

Alice Yabusame for the ask game?

Alice Yabusame: Who was most screwed over by ASU-NARO?

Depends on if you mean before the game or in the game.

Before the game, I think the answer is Alice, Shin, Kai, or Keiji. Alice was locked away for a crime he didn't commit. He lost his sister while trying to protect her, and those last few years they had with each other were stolen.

For Shin, he lost so much of his life to Sou. Their friendship had clear negative effects on him, and it lasted all through high school and possibly a bit longer. Then he gets out of the toxic friendship not by getting a chance to stand up for himself, but Midori just leaving him without answers.

Kai also lost his life to ASU-NARO long before he was dead. He grew up in their organization, and as we learn in Island Mode was put through torture. Then he finally felt loved in the Chidouin household, even though as we know they were likely involved with the death game. Meaning Kai never really escaped the life he hated.

Keiji shot and killed his mentor, sending him into a spiral. He hallucinates and carries a heavy guilt about the event.

More Undercut

So all three had a very negative life before the game, and spent their potential last years alive in an unhappy situation.

As for in the game, I don't there is an answer to this. They've all been screwed over terribly. Kanna either looses two siblings within a week or is killed because she's not deemed useful enough. Sara is put into a leadership position while everyone she cares for dies around her. Joe, Kai, and Nao were made to die since the beginning. Q-Taro dies after resolving himself to live in the past. Shin has no chance of survival. Reko either dies or looses her brother and love interest. Gin seems to loose every adult that cares for him. And Mishima died even though he could've been saved.

So in game, I don't think there's a right answer. Pre game those four were probably the most effected.

[quarthly]

Twilight characters as random animals that I think are oddly fitting

(Also yes, I am roasting the animals as well)

Edward: He would be a Cheetah. Now I know, seems like a cop out just because of his speed but hear me out. Cheetahs are, at face value, pretty cool. They used to be my favorite animal as a child, but then I grew up.

Cheetahs, through no fault of their own, are severely inbred. Now thats mainly because of poaching, but the cheetas anxiety also comes into play. In captivity, cheetahs are usually given emotional support dogs. I will admit it is cute but it negatively affects the population. Excluding one in the wild, cheetas can be to anxious to breed and thats not good for conservation efforts.

Cheetahs can hit up to 80 miles per hour in a couple of seconds. They are designed for fast running and agility. Their claws are similar to that of a dogs for better traction and they have elongated spines for longer strides. They have a thin build, long legs and a long tail for balance.

This has downsides though. Many times after making a kill, it will get stolen for them by larger predators. Thats right, they get absolutely bodied by the other animals. I should probably make these shorter but I'm on a rant now, so I guess this will be semi educational.

Throughout the series, we see Edward over estimated his abilities and value, constantly getting bodied by others. He's essentially a perfect mormon, though thats on S'meyers. He constantly judges others, dehumanizing them to their baser flaws, without doing any self reflecting. Him viewing himself as a monster doesn't really count to me. While he definitely hates himself, the only thing he is truly demonizing is being a vampire.

Bella: Picking up from Edwards, Bella is a Chocolate Labrador. Yes, she is his therapy dog. I feel like this is really fitting for her. I know Golden retriever would make more sense, as thats the most common breed for service animals. However, I kind of focused on her appearance. Only at first though! I just know that Edward raved about her human qualities and that would pass over as animals as well. Her chocolate eyes and brown fur, very average and boring. Thats essentially Bella. Even Edward wasn't into her until he got a wiff. Labradors a very loyal dogs and while they have more personality than Bella, I just couldn't shake it. Their also very stupid. Ok that's kind of mean, they're not stupid but when it comes to love, then yeah they are stupid.

I used to have a lab, loved him to death, but god he was something else. Very much danger prone, from their own stupidity or their lack of survival instincts. I know that labs are almost aquatic. They love water, swimming, all that jazz. We can just say that bella has a few screws loose in her dna and is just "not like other labs."

Rosalie: Now she was hard. There are quite a few animals that I think would fit for her. I'll list the other ones, but that one I went with is the Swan. Like Edward, seems a little on the nose, but I have my reasoning.

I was going to pick a predator for her, as she is shown to be very vengeful and viscous. I would have pick some type of cat, most likely a purebred, from a rich family. It could still work, but the swan just speaks to me on this one.

Swan's are known for being beautiful, graceful, and are pictured as the symbol of love. They are also very vain. Edward constantly brings up Rosalies vanity. She was constantly valued for her beauty as a human, so of course that crossed over in the transformation. She was raised to be married into wealth, she was used as a bargaining chip to increase the family's standing.

Rose has a very strong character and makes her opinions known. She's assertive and aggressive at times. She's not afraid to get dirty.

Swans mate for life and like geese, are known for being great parents. I was also going to choose geese as an option for the maternal instincts. I was wary at first because swans can be really aggressive. Like actually, you think geece are bad? Yikes bestie...

I was conflicted because swans are known for drowning dogs and sometimes people. However, I can actually see Rose drowning Bella. It's not that unbelievable lmao.

Emmett: Now this one is just ironic. I only associate him with bears. Its inevitable, but picking a Grizzly or Black bear is too obvious. So I went a slightly different route...

So I was going to pick the Sun bear just because of looks alone. Like, I'm not exaggerating, it looks like someone wearing a bear costume. I don't think it fits him but I know for a fact that he would dress up as a sun bear and sneak into a zoo to see if anyone would notice. I'll put a pic of it here

Like look at this thing. I have no words...

Anyway, what I picked was a Sloth Bear. Now Sloth bears are mostly nocturnal, which either way works consider vamps don't sleep. Their diet is also odd but honestly so is the cullens. They're native to the Indian subcontinent, and are known for being aggressive towards humans. Its said that for the most part they're pretty calm, so I think its just fear of humans that make them act aggressively. Honestly, that's a good thing because they are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red list.

They have some similarities with sloths, which is where they get the name. They have long claws and unusual teeth. They are known to hang upside down from tree branches, and is described as having a messy appearance. Honestly, Emmitt has a messy personality. Sorry bestie but you're a lot of work.

Now heres the biggest reason for choosing this bear. Aside from Baloo from the jungle book being a sloth bear, they are known to run fades with Tigers. Honestly, how fucking badass is that!? Now I don't think there are recorded instances of a Sloth bear killing a Tiger, but when push comes to shove, they can hold their own and I find that incredibly impressive.

Carlisle: This one was somehow the easiest as well as the toughest. I know Owl seems like the obvious choice, and I can see it. However, I believe Carlisle values emotional intelligence as much or if not more than academic intelligence. He is so charismatic and values other's above himself. He might not be as Saint like as Edward thinks, but he does try and I think he genuinely cares about others. For that reason alone, I choose a Elephant.

Elephant's are very social animals and are extremely intelligent. I could rave about them for ages, I love them so much.

Now elephants live in a familial unit and are usually matriarchal. Bulls usually are on the outer edges of the herd or form little groups with other males. Honestly, they're not that bad aside from when their in musk.

In the group of males, the elder ones will teach the younger where to get the best food, water, how to use things as tools, and every other thing that will increase their odds of survival. This is really cute to me tbh, they do this because the females usually choose the older males because they've proved that they are intelligent and strong, that they have survived and will continue to for awhile. Teaching the younger males these things are to make the odds of them getting chosen to mate more likely. The whole unit just reminds me of a father that has to deal with rowdy teens.

Carlisle likes to take in strays, he might not have a herd but he will make one and teach them to thrive. That's how he envisions it anyway. He just has a found family and is trying his best.

Esme: Now this might seem like an insult, but I promise it's not! This is in no way misogynistic. I love cattle and ever since I took animal science in highschool, I have appreciated these grass puppies like they deserve. Call me Castro because I love cows.

Yup! I chose a Cow for her. Specifically a beef cow. That might sound weird but its because beef cows have higher maternal instinct than dairy cows. I'm thinking Scottish Highland based on vibes alone.

They are nicknamed the Gentle Giants of Scotland. Super maternal and sweet and ugh look how cute they are!

Esme came from a abusive marriage and had just lost her child, she was depressed and desperate. Her changing was, in a way, salvation. She just fits in. She adopts all these strays along with him and will protect them to the death. She might be gentle by nature, but don't fuck with her family. She lost her first one and she isn't going to lose this one.

Alice: She's an odd one. There are so many possibilities and maybe I'm biased, but I feel like she would be a Crow.

Ok listen, I'm definitely biased but it just feels right. Crows get a bad rap, they are so cool! They are so intelligent and have the ability to actually sit and think about the past, prest, and future. I forget what its called, but this was only seem in humans! Maybe other apes, I can't remember exactly, but either way its awesome. They do live in groups, or murders, and remember people and faces. They remember locations and are able to pass down information through generations. They essentially have their own language! They are able to use tools too!

Alice's story is really sad. When we first meets her, it revolves around the death of her mother and her institutionalized. She was essentially tortured and forgot everything from her past. All she had was the future and even that wasn't constant. Crows a often viewed as omens, they are associated with death. I personally believe that instead of being the cause, they just know something is going to happen. They are very inquisitive and can be creative.

If you befriend a murder of crows, sometimes, depends or the group, they will bring gifts. Its can range from food to shiny metals and colorful plastic. Hell, I think I've seen a post of one stealing things from people just to gift it to their human.

Alice's love language is gifts. Even if they are focused around fashion, she still goes out of her way to get something that will look good and at least be a little comfortable. By that I mean she tends to forget peoples comfort zones, but she means well.

Jasper: Honestly not to sure what to put for him. I know a predator would be more fitting, but for some reason I can see a donkey working. I know, seems like I'm clowning on the confederate. Fair, but I'm serious about the donkey thing. Honestly, it would be perfect if it wasn't a herbivore. Porcupine would also work.

Being a predator would make more sense. Given his backstory and his characterization, it wouldn't make sense for him to be a prey animal. Usually I wouldn't count this, but given his gore filled past and trouble with the diet, it seemed fitting.

I see him as a Big Cat. Honestly, vamps in general just give cat vibes. Jasper though especially have some cat like qualities, which originates from hunting and being a soldier.

I specifically see him as a Mountain Lion. Aside from him being blonde, he just has the predatory stealth to him. In midnight sun, we see him use his gift to make the nomads overlook him. He's honestly really powerful.

Mountain lions are known for being stealthy with an air of grace and power to them. They are stong animals. And I mean strong. They can jump 40-45 feet.

They're very elusive and quite. They stalk their prey and tend to attack from behind but don't think they won't hold their ground if need be.

Jasper was changed during the Civil War and forced to fight in the Newborn wars. He was a soldier as a human and as a vampire. He's able to feel and manipulate others emotions. He's covered in scars and is very intimidating.

He still struggles with the diet and honestly I hate how the others handle it. Like they have no room to talk. I don't want to defend the confederate but it just pisses me off. He has to deal with his hunger on top of everyone else's. Like damn, besties always on edge! Everyone doubts him which I don't think helps any.

Also, Mountain lions and Cheetahs can purr!

@aquanova99 I'll do a Volturi one too. That one will be fun lmao

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. ���I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

[seasonschange-butpeopledont]

300 is an awesome achievement!! Your fics are just out of this world amazing and I keep coming back to re-read them all the time, YES, THEY’RE THAT GOOD 😄 I have a little request for you: it’s from list two in the Misc. category, number 16 “YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” with F! Reader and Frankie Morales 🥺 I am so SOFT for that man!!!

DIY and Other Disasters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (Established Relationship - Wife!Reader)

Warnings: Fluff. Just fluff, and DIY.

Word Count: 1,043

Author’s Note: I really hope you don't mind me using this as a starting point for some DIY-centric oneshots with everyone's favorite Home Depot Husband. I've recently gotten into furniture building and the learning curve is real. Inspired by a discussion we had about my blog a few months ago about Frankie building you a coffee table, which I will link if I can ever find it again.

Prompt: "YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!"

Summary: After a failed attempt at your first DIY project, Frankie offers some help.

Taglist Form - Masterlist

You woke up early on Saturday morning, dragged yourself out of your warm bed, and headed to Home Depot in Frankie’s truck to purchase everything you’d need. You’d spent the night scrolling through dozens of tutorials before finally settling on an end table project that seemed to coordinate well enough with your current living room furniture.

When you returned home, you found your husband and daughter cuddled on the couch in their pajamas, both with messy hair and bleary eyes, watching cartoons as they ate breakfast.

Normally, you would be right there with them, swaddled in a blanket burrito as you chowed down on a bowl of cereal, but today you were on a mission.

You and Frankie had been together long enough that he no longer questioned you when you dove headfirst into a project like this without warning or sufficient experience. He simply allowed you to lead him into the garage, gave you the best crash course in DIY carpentry he could manage at nine-thirty on a Saturday morning, and turned you loose.

Frankie went back to the living room a few minutes later, returning to his seat on the couch beside your daughter. It wasn’t long before he heard the whirring of saw blades in the garage.

Isabella immediately pouted up at him, an accusing look in her dark eyes. “No fair! Why don’t I ever get to play with the tools?”

“Because Mom knows what she’s doing…” Frankie replied confidently, before adding under his breath, “I think.”

The table was... not a table. It was a few scraps of wood that, when assembled by screws and nails, displayed vaguely table-like qualities.

Okay, sure, the legs were uneven. Measure twice, cut once. Frankie had spouted the phrase like it was sage wisdom, but you were an adult and you knew how to use measuring tape, thank you very much.

Well, apparently not.

And then there was the matter of the mitered corners, which you could clearly see were not forty-five degree angles despite what the saw had told you, leaving your with four pieces of wood that absolutely did not form a shape that looking anything like the Pinterest photos. You’d hammered them together as best you could, but there was no denying the mistake.

“I thought you told me you took woodshop in high school,” was all that Frankie said when you finally dragged him out to the garage to inspect your creation. The seconds seemed to drag on for hours as he slowly circled the sad little end table.

“I did.”

“Then I guess I should have asked, did you pass woodshop?”

“Yes.”

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, looking from you to the table and then back to you again. “Bullshit.”

“For your information, I was very decent at wood burning,” You told him defensively. The pout on your face would have put Isabella’s to shame, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were sweaty, frustrated, and had more splinters in your fingers than you could count. You needed a nap.

“How were you at geometry?”

“Less decent, but this—“ You pointed to the wonky corners of the table top, “— was not my fault. That stupid, old saw said it was set at forty-five degrees—“

“Hey, leave our tools out of this,” Frankie shook his head. “They’re vintage.”

Vintage was a generous term for the clunky items you’d found in a “fifteen dollars if you take the whole box of crap” deal at a garage sale. They’d been the perfect birthday gift for your new boyfriend at the time, a certain army pilot who had a penchant for tinkering and general handiness, but no real need to invest hundreds of dollars into something he could only use a couple of times throughout the year when not on deployment. A decade later, they were looking a bit worse for wear.

“Well, I don’t understand what I did wrong,” You grumbled.

“Honey, I thought I mentioned that you might need to use the square for those cuts,” He reminded you, holding up the bright orange, plastic triangle that definitely would have given you the perfect forty-five degree cut if you had bothered to use it. “The measurements on the saw are off by a couple of degrees.”

You sighed, taking a step back to inspect the poorly cobbled together pieces of wood you hesitantly called an end table. “Be honest, can you fix this?”

Frankie rolled his eyes good-naturedly, his lips tugging up into a lopsided grin as he leaned back against his truck and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bob Vila himself couldn’t fix that.”

Oh, that smug bastard. He was enjoying this too much. You reached for Isabella’s Disney Princess playball, aiming it at him and throwing. There was no force behind it, but it was perfectly angled, bouncing off the brim of his hat and knocking it off of his head. Without missing a beat, Frankie exclaimed, “You said be honest, stop hitting me!”

“Then stop making fun of me, Francisco,” You countered as you watched him bend down to pick up the hat. “You aren’t being helpful.”

He let out a chuckle, replacing the hat on his head and pushing away from the body of the truck to stand beside you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pressed a kiss to your kiss, making the corners of your lips tug themselves into a smile. “Okay, okay, I’ll be helpful. I’ve got an idea.” You hummed a sound of interest, prompting him to continue.

“This table really isn’t that bad for a first try. If this whole DIY thing is something you’re really interested in, we could work on it together. I can show you the ropes, get Isabella one of those little plastic tool belts, and we can spend some quality time together as a family… It might be fun. We can start next Saturday, if you want.” There was an excitement in his voice that he tried to hide, but you could see the spark in his eyes. Frankie loved this kind of thing.

You beamed at him, today’s failed project long forgotten and you mind already dreaming up possibilities of what you would create next. “Consider it a date.”

General Taglist: @theravenreads @marshmallowtraver @computeringturtle @maythxthirstbxwithyou @artsymaddie @heythere-mel @jaime1110

Pedro Character Taglist: @pascalisthepunkest @coldlilheart @fuck-goes-on @spideysimpossiblegirl @grogusmum @fangirl-316 @writeforfandoms

Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier) Taglist: @freeshavocadoooo @fangirl-of-randomness @darnitdraco @punkerthanpascal

[blueheartedmayor]

It takes a while, but Random eventually locates the apartment complex. She stares up at it, then quickly goes in just as someone is coming out. The person thankfully pays her no mind, and she starts heading for the top floor.

His place must be pretty big. Makes sense, though, he is the mayor. I just hope he's nice. I don't think Wilford would steer me wrong, but you never know really people till you meet 'em yourself.

The closer she gets to Damien's apartment, the more nervous she starts to feel. Her hands fidget and she has to take a few deep breaths to calm her nerves.

Is this a mistake? Should I be doing this? What if he's actually a cranky old man? Or worse, a creep? I'd probably try to punch him, but it'd get me into SO much trouble. Gah... Screw it, I'll just go introduce myself, and if I feel any weird vibes, I'll leave. Simple as that.

Walking a little more confidently, she reaches his apartment. Taking a deep breath, she raises her fist and knocks on the door.

@the-crypt-of-randomness

-

Whatever plans Damien had for a quiet day were scrapped. Wilford had neglected to return with any information at all. No hint of a name, a description, how long they were staying and, most importantly, when they were arriving. He had to assume the worst and get to work.

After breakfast, Barnum trotted behind his owner, knowing something was wrong but unable to help. Any attempt to try and distract his human with a toy was ignored. Or worse, the toy was lifted and put straight back into the box. This wasn't good at all.

While Damien changed the sheets on the bed in the empty guest room, Barnum scampered back up the corridor, sniffing around like he could try and find a clue to the source of the stress. Nothing seemed out of place yesterday, and no one had arrived overnight - that he knew of.

Then, while he checked the balcony door for any strange scents, the front door knocked. That was it! The person that was to blame was at the door!

"Barnum, wait there." The corgi's plan to charge into the door was immediately ruined by Damien waving a hand as he made his way to the door. "Behave yourself. I don't want you causing any trouble." It was a low warning that wouldn't be heard from the corridor.

When the door opened, Random would be greeted by none other than the Mayor, exactly like the business card said. He looked the same age as Wilford, with dark hair brushed loosely back. Without the usual gel, one could see the faint waves in it. Though the outfit was less formal than one might expect, it still looked nice, with a dark grey unbuttoned, sleeveless cardigan over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and black trousers. Hazel eyes looked Random up and down, before there was a hint of a smile paired with a sigh.

"I take it you're the vacationer Wilford told me about?"

Behind him, the main room was an open living room, its size emphasised by the full-length windows and balcony door opposite them. A corridor broke off to the left, and a kitchen could be seen on the right, just beyond the baby grand piano. There was an air of 'money', yet there was something 'ordinary' about the place too.

[heresathreebee]

Brackish and Briny Waters (two)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Settling into your new house Part 1 Masterlist Part 3

Tags: +17 | 1.7k words | just really fucking domestic stuff, one (1) bad attitude, presumptuous behavior, unprotected morning sex, more remodeling.

AN: I kind of know where I'm going with this. The conflict will be subtle at first but it's there I promise.

The first day goes by fast and for Ralph meeting every single person on staff in this prestigious school was like trying cheeses and wines in a vineyard– fun at first but you get a stomach ache because somebody forgot to tell you not to swallow and there are just so many of them each more rich than the last. By the time he crosses the threshold to his new home, he's exhausted and annoyed. 

"I told you not to unpack without me." 

You look at him from the kitchen and shrug. "I needed stuff, baby. I already wrote a list of things to work on in this 'bare bones' house you put us up in and I was bored." 

You don't care for his attitude but offer him the covered plate anyways. "I saved you some dinner." 

All at once, Ralphie's anger melted from his face. He shuffled his tired feet across the still empty living room and pulled you into his side. The plate was warm (still warm or recently warmed up, he couldn't tell) and his stomach growled. 

"M sorry," he said, "I don't mean to be an asshole." 

You smile your forgiveness. "Long day?" 

"Yes," he hisses. "I already can't wait for the weekend." 

You chuckle. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad. Give it a chance, baby!" 

"As you wish." 

After eating, Ralph is right to sleep despite his insistence you finish packing together tonight. A part of you thinks it's the climate here– fresh sea salt air and less artificial light to disrupt the body's natural sleep patterns. You took off his shoes and empty his pockets because he was just 'resting his eyes for a moment,' then slid in right next to him. He's fine without a blanket, but you pull the back of the quilt over your rear and curl into his side. Sleep comes easier tonight than last night and you dream of wallpaper and wood smoke cologne. 

DAY THREE

The rest of the week gets easier for the both of you. You arrived on Monday and unpack the bigger furniture together by Wednesday with the help of some locals. Ralph is getting to study the lesson plan for Ms. Lewis' math class and establishing a gentle authority with his temporary students. He is still excited for the weekend, intent to help you figure out what to do with the walls of the house. 

"Has anybody come to see you at the house yet?," he asks you Thursday night. 

You pause dicing onions to think. "Besides the neighbors to the north and those Vayle boys? No." 

Ralphie raises his eyebrows and drops them, an involuntary gesture made more for himself than you. 

You put a hand on your hip. "Why?" 

Ralphie waves you off and continues mixing the meat with the spices. "Nothing. It's just everybody and their fucking moms has been asking me about you." 

"What?" This was news to you. "Why?" 

"Because they're nosy," he replies, "asking me about my whole life story and I let slip I had a wife and then they just wouldn't shut up about it." 

You swat his shoulder. "Well don't sound so depressed about it. Do you not like having a wife?" 

"No!" Ralph huffs and turns to look at you as he says, "I just hate that every single one of them bugs me about a million personal things and then I mention you and it's the only thing they can talk about now." 

Ralph turns back to stirring the pan and grumbles to himself, "might tell them to fuck off and just hoard you forever…" 

It clicks in your head at least a bit. Ralph's a born and bred city kid. In the city nobody cares who you are, what you like, or where you're from. Strangers don't want to be anything more than strangers. Their eternal social motto is 'don't waste my time' and anyone who acts differently is probably scheming something. 

You chuckle and rest your chin on his shoulder. "You're forgetting these are a different breed of people. Rich and educated socialites more over but suburban, maybe even rural. We're probably the first new thing to happen to them in decades, and communities like this don't have a 'mind your business and I'll mind mine' attitude." 

Ralphie flicks you a look but you know he knows you're right. It doesn't mean he has to like it but at least he understands it's not malicious, at least not inherently. It's out of his element, a little out of yours too, but you'll have to adapt and play by their rules if you want to stay here for a while. 

The dining room table can seat six, but your Ralphie takes a seat right next to you at a corner so he can hold your hand while you eat. Homemade tacos ease your apprehensions a bit and you go over the remodeling plans with him until midnight. Getting ready to sleep, you wear your thinnest shift and wrap around him like an octopus, your warm core brushing over his barely clothed manhood in temptation. 

Ralphie hums, tucking a stray hair back into your bonnet. "We need to get up early tomorrow." 

It's a weak protest. The two of you keep rocking into each other and sighing at the feeling of friction but eventually fall asleep despite the delightful buzz of sexual energy surrounding you. You do wake up when Ralph flips you under him and sucks a few marks into your neck.

You spread your legs to accommodate his breadth, feeling him settle deliciously and glancing at the bedside clock. It's barely 5 o' clock and the sun is rising. You gasp as you feel Ralphie's cock slide into you and he's met with little resistance. You two have sex for the first time since you moved and it's been so long that the affair is short lived. 

Ralph already has an apology on his lips but you shush him and come a moment later with your fingers brushing your clit in tandem. He peppers you with a dozen more kisses as silent promises to make it up to you. 

You shower together, barely bumping elbows as this bathroom is way bigger than your New York City apartment ever was. You chat idly about the weekend and the town and when you're ready to leave, you grab the manila folder where you store the plans for the remodel. You've even got samples from the wallpaper, only taking the ones you like and want to replace. 

"I know we probably won't find exact replicas but I want to at least find something similar." 

Ralph squeezes your thigh. "Ok, ok. We'll try." 

While this town doesn't have a McDonald's (the town over does and it's fancy for some reason), it does have a Home Depot (also pretty fancy). You know you'll need wood and screws and glass panes to finish that solar room but that's not the goal for today. 

Ralph skips right over the green paint swatch section to the creams. He's rambling about paint brand pros and cons, he did his research on the way in since you were driving and he brought the book from the school library. You follow and half listen. 

"What?" 

Ralph finally catches on to your soft smile. You glance around to make sure no one is in earshot because god forbid these gossipers over hear your conversation right now. 

"I guess I got you pretty excited last night, huh," you say with a sense of pride. Ralph feels the opposite about his performance this morning. 

"I just… I think it's just been a while." He occupies his hands by grabbing every single free swatch sample on the shelf and says, "I promise I will make it up to you." 

You roll your eyes in a not unkind way. "It's fine, babe, really. I uh… it feels kind of good to know I still have that kind of effect on you…" 

Ralphie sports a smile of his own and puts you under his arm. "Of course you do, sugar." 

He leans down to plant a kiss on your lips when you're interrupted by a bright voice. It's so startling that your husband bounces away from you. He stares wide eyed at the woman who interrupted you and he gets that dark look in his eye that only you can see. 

"Jesus, Julie," he tries his best not to growl her name. "This is Julie, she's a teacher at the school. Julie this… is… my wife." 

Julie makes a noise like a whistle. "Oh my god you are so much more beautiful than I imagined! Ralph doesn't have a picture of you in his office!" 

"It's on my desk," he huffs, "it's the one turned towards me." 

"And why would you do that?" 

"...so I can look at it while I work…?" 

Julie's… a little too hands on for just meeting you. You're too reserved to say something about it so you sling a loose arm around her back and hope Ralph doesn't say something for you. 

"Hi Julie, it's nice to finally meet you," you tell her. "Ralph's been slowly but surely introducing me to the concept of his coworkers." 

"I can't believe we haven't met before now! Ralph keeping you all to himself, me and the other teachers are just so curious about you," she coos. It feels almost put on, like overindulging in sweet to play up her first impression. You let it slide though, maybe it's just your city lens. 

"Well, uh, once we've got the house fixed up a bit, we can plan a housewarming party," you suggest. "But not a day before and you may quote me on that, miss!" 

Julie laughed and gave you her phone number 'in case you need anything at all.' Ralph breathed easy once she finally left and you tug his ear gently. "She's veeerry friendly." 

Ralphie shoots you a glare like you'd made a joke he didn't find funny and you go back to debating the paint to use for your walls eagerly.

@escape-your-grape @hoodoo12 @softbeej @go-commander-kim @beetlesstuff @imma-fucking-nerd​ @werwulfy​