#a character and respect him. But I am not so sure they were interested in making a important arc of him and set space for a new and better

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Full thoughts on season 7! (Or at least, as many as I can remember, sleep-deprived and emotional as I am)

Starting off positive: things I liked!

THE RUTHARI REUNION WAS EVERYTHING

Runaan's gentle kiss to Ethari's hand? The way the camera rotated around them for their kiss?? Their hug afterwards??? Ethari's little "my heart"???? This was worth the six-year wait

The moonfam in general was one of my favorite things about this season. Runaan calling Rayla his daughter again, his and Ethari's unconditional support of her, the way they interacted with Callum... it was exactly what I dreamed of

And speaking of Runaan: his speech to Ezran in 7x09 will be living in my head forever. The way his tears weren't pretty, they were real. The was he said "I'm alive". It was such a stunning conclusion to his arc

On that note: the voice acting? Spectacular. Callum and Soren had me in floods of tears when they met in the ruins of Katolis. And don't even get me started on Zubeia during her fight with Avizandum

The lighting and music were also so on-point

TERRY'S REDEMPTION ARC LET'S GO

His speech to Claudia was stunning

Also, his "hello, Zuko here" moment made me cackle

I love that he and Soren are on their way to friendship, I always thought they'd get along

I also really liked that Aanya was present throughout the season! Every time she was in an action scene I was screaming

I thought the plotline with Miyana being pregnant was really interesting, because it presents a moral dilemma that isn't explored a lot. Plus, the way Karim reacted, calling the baby his heir and never his child, was very telling of his mindset and priorities

This is going to sound really weird, but I loved the moment of Rayla taking up Runaan's bow to fulfill his promise. Like, obviously it's tragic and I was in tears, but also, it really shows her respecting Callum's agency? She was able to respect his choice and put his wishes above her own needs, and it was cool to see

I'm so glad they addressed the bird theory. There was way too much of a focus on Pip for it not to go somewhere

Things I disliked:

There were times when the animation really threw me off. Like, after Callum froze all the guards in 7x02 and they were trying to break free, they were just... tapping the ice with their weapons. Really slowly. It kind of axed any urgency. And during Ezran's speech at the end, some of the characters in the background were just... done in a completely different style? I'm sure it was a reference to something, but as someone who doesn't know what that was, it really took me out of what was supposed to be an important scene

There was a lot of explaining things over and over. Yes, we know Aaravos never lies, you don't have to keep telling us. Yes, we know the Orphan Queen wielded the nova blade, you don't have to keep telling us. Yes, we know people are not all good or all evil. You used to be really good at showing that instead of making speeches about it once an episode

Also just a lot of monologuing? Like, why did Callum have to explain in detail to Aaravos his plan to trap him before he did it? I know we the audience needed to know but from a strategic point of view, it was... not the smartest he's ever been. It would have made more sense if he was trying to explain it to Rayla, I think

It didn't really... feel like a finale. They left a lot of loose ends open, and beyond that, it felt like there was very little payoff for things that had been set up throughout the arc. Why did we spend two seasons looking for the nova blade if we were never going to use it? Why did we spend all arc foreshadowing Callum's corruption if it was never going to happen? I get that they left it for arc 3, but even so, the resolution of an arc should still feel like a resolution, much like arc 1 did

(Also, are we ever going to come back to that hallucination Callum had? Like, is he not at all concerned by the fact that he had a conversation with himself with seemingly no magical involvement?)

I wish we had gotten to see Anya act like a person. It was great to have her around, but it felt like she was in queen mode the entire time, and I'm really curious about who she is beyond the crown

Finally- the thing that I disliked the most was the way things with Callum, Ezran, Rayla, and Runaan were handled in 7x02, because it made it very hard for me to root for Callum and Rayla afterwards. I totally understand that Rayla has an attachment to Runaan and Callum has an attachment to Rayla, but neither of them seemed to actually consider Ezran at all. Like, here is this twelve-year-old boy, who just lost the home he lived in his entire life. Who lost his father at a very young age and, as a direct result, was forced into a responsibility that he absolutely should not have had to carry. I feel like at the very least the people who are supposed to love him the most could say, "hey, I understand that you're angry" instead of treating him like he's totally unreasonable. And then! They just leave him! A twelve-year-old who just lost his entire home! Who has literally no other family! And whenever they talk about mending things, it's never, "oh, I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry I never took time to validate how you were feeling", it was just "we're family, we'll find our way back to each other eventually". That's not how it works. When there's a hurt like that, you don't just stop being angry without coming to an understanding. I love Runaan, and I wanted him to be free and happy, but I also think that he did in fact commit a murder (yes, technically just of a bird, but he didn't know that) and it's reasonable to expect him to face some consequences. Even if it's just, like, community service. You can be merciful without condoning

But just to be clear: I have absolutely no ill will for anyone with different views on this plot point. My frustration with it is more from a personal perspective than a writing one- my dad was killed a few years ago, so I'm siding with Ezran from an emotional standpoint. But I thought the plot was worth mentioning, since it really affected how I viewed the rest of the season

Overall, as a season, book 7 had a lot of moments that I really loved and will be rewatching very often. But as a potential sendoff, it didn't really leave me with much of a sense of closure. Fingers crossed for arc 3, I suppose!

[spametc123]

The phrase “maybe the curtains were just blue” is genuinely so harmful to media literacy as a whole. Yes, things can just be the way they are, but almost everything exists with context. Do you exist or do you exist because of everything that has happened in the world? Your parents met, you didn’t die that one time when you were eight, you’re the person you are because of that awful haircut you had in seventh grade. You exist because of all of that.

So, nothing pisses me off more than when someone uses an incomplete quote. “A jack of all trades is a master of none” without the second half: “but oftentimes better than a master of one” (everyone say thank you Shakespeare) has an entirely different meaning. The first half by itself is utilized to shame people into ignoring things they love or are interested in; meanwhile the full quote praises people interested in a variety of things. Ignoring context literally erodes the meaning behind anything. Machiavelli said “it’s better to be feared than to be loved.” Wrong. Loud incorrect buzzer. Kind of. As Malcolm Gladwell writes, “it’s not wrong, exactly, it’s just incomplete.” (Or something like that anyways.) Yes, Machiavelli did write that. Congrats! But you forgot a kinda, semi, VERY FUCKING IMPORTANT component of that quote. “It is better to be feared than to be loved if one cannot have both.” It should be common sense right? I wish. Ask anyone about their opinion on the incomplete quote and see how many of them think they’re revolutionary when they say “oh I’d rather have both!” If the full quote doesn’t seem to make a difference in your mind, great! But there’s still more context that you need to know to actually understand it (let alone teach it (Mr. History teacher that is NOT a philosophy teacher and should not try to be one)). The quote is from The Prince, a writing in which Machiavelli talks about what makes a good leader. In his opinion, The Prince should know when to utilize love and fear to his advantage. Be loved by your people and feared by your enemies. Seem more trusting than you are so you can see who is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He says that one should prefer to be feared than to be loved in time sensitive situations, not sustainably. That when things need immediate change being feared makes a stronger and more effective leader (which is unequivocally correct and I’m tried of hearing otherwise). So again, without context: a random quote that no one agrees with or really understands at all, whatsoever vs. with context: the assertion that in times of need it is better to be respected and feared than it is to be loved. Or, a personal favorite “dubito, ergo cogito, ergo sum.” I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am. Oh wow! So cool, he thinks therefore he is - being capable of thought means I exist, how neat! Not wrong, sure, but lacking context. What makes the philosophy so powerful is the fact that it’s a paradox. You doubt your existence, therefore you are capable of thought, therefore you exist. Because you doubt your existence, you prove that you exist. But if you are then confident you exist, do you no longer exist anymore? And now you doubt it again. Without context, it’s just words on a page, nothing notable or interesting. Without looking for the context it’s yet another thing people will complain about having to learn because “why does it even matter?”

It’s the same with characters. Armand is batshit fucking insane, yes, but he only is that way because of who he is. The tv show fails his character when they age him up, because even with some of his backstory, he is the way he is mainly because he’s eternally trapped in the body of a 17 year old. ____ is too trusting! Maybe in different circumstances, yes, but that character is the way they are because of the life experiences they’ve had. ____ is the right amount of trusting for the life they’ve lived.w

It’s the same for people too!!! Please find it within you to have basic human empathy! Someone is the way they are because of their life experiences. You can’t have something happen to you, good or bad, and not be affected by it. Someone can only change if their experiences change. No, it’s not your responsibility to change someone’s behavior or to tolerate it, but it is your responsibility to try to understand why someone is the way they are.

Empathy and media literacy are so clearly intertwined it’s would be comical if it wasn’t depressing. Read between the lines, try to understand things that you don’t get immediately. The curtains aren’t just blue. It doesn’t matter if it’s to represent sadness or just because it’s the author’s favorite color or even because the author was so indecisive they made someone else pick it, there’s still a reason. Anti-intellectualism is the curse that keeps on dooming us all.

[qcomicsy]

Marvel writer: Then Wade get involved with monsters! And–

Me:

[orcelito]

Never played a Fate game or watched any of the animes really. But I started playing Fate/Samurai Remnant bc I wanted to play a hack n slash kinda game & it got generally good reviews (unlike ffxvi, the other game I was looking at for this wish of mine, which ppl continuously said was pretty but kinda shallow writing-wise)

I've been enjoying it. I've already learned some things about 1600s Japan. It's pretty neat!

[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[skyahri]

One Bed |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.

Summary: Classic one bed trope.

Warnings: Kissing. Bed sharing. Lead up to smut but no smut.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

It was shortly after the war.

The village was still recuperating from the loss, as was every other village, but there were still missions that needed to be fulfilled.

You were off to do some security work for the Daimyo, who had specifically requested the two of you to watch over his land while they rebuilt.

The only issue was that upon arrival, it wss revealed you'd be sharing a single room.

"You aren't the only ones to have suffered during the battle. Half of my property was destroyed!"

There wasn't much you could do, so you bit the bullet and followed one of the Ladies in Waiting to where you'll be staying.

One room? Whatever. One bed? Absolutely not.

You protested. It was inappropriate, even if you had known Sasuke for well over a decade at this point.

"We are low on resources at the moment, Y/L/N-san, Uchiha-san. It's why we have asked for your assistance in the first place."

You looked at Sasuke, who just gave you the same bored expression he always has.

You thanked the woman and began getting settled in your room. Sasuke offered to sleep on the floor, which you told him not to bother with.

You'd likely be here a few weeks, so it'd be best if you were both comfortable.

Sasuke was nice enough to let you shower first, which you'd gladly taken after two days' worth of travel.

He waited patiently for you to finish so he could prepare for bed as well. It was late, almost midnight, and he was tired.

It was awkward the first night. You'd slept uncomfortably back to back with this weird air around you.

You'd put on your most conservative pair of pajamas despite how warm the room was, and that only made things worse.

The second night wasn't much better.

But by the third night, you both grew tired of the tension. It was difficult to be fully rested when you'd slept terribly, so you formed some kind of unspoken, mutual respect for now.

You'd opted for your normal nighttime attire - a pair of shorts and thin t-shirt. You already felt better.

Sasuke, on the other hand, had been grateful for your prudish clothing. He had never said anything before, not that he had the time to, but he'd always been attracted to you.

Your revealing pajamas were not helping his comfort, so while you slept better that night, he did not.

Nor the next night.

Or the night after that.

By then, you'd become very aware of his antics. On top of being physically aware that he wasn't sleeping, you'd also become annoyed by his poor attitude.

He was already an ass as is, you really didn't need him sleep deprived on top of it.

So that night, as you lay in bed next to him, you roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

"What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Really? Could've fooled me."

He tsked at you. Why'd you have to be so annoying?

You pushed yourself up so you'd be sitting on your knees, your hands flat on the bed so you could still lean forward to talk to him.

His eyes darted down to your chest before looking away entirely.

No way. There was absolutely no way.

"Are you... bothered by my clothes?"

"Don't be stupid." He snapped.

You tried to suppress a knowing smirk but failed.

So you leaned forward and kissed him.

Despite his surprise, he immediately responded to your kiss, going so far as to roll you over onto your back so he'd be on top of you.

"Maybe I am a bit bothered."

Kakashi Hatake

This is Kakashi’s first Kage Summit, and he asked you to be his plus one.

You accepted with no hesitation. You were anxious to get out of the village since the war ended and going out with Kakashi was sure to make it all the more interesting.

The summit was boring. That's a good thing compared to the last summit, but it still made you want to gouge your eyes out. They discussed the status of their villages and what sort of issues they'd been running into, blah blah blah.

When it was nearing midnight and everyone was growing tired, they agreed to call it a night and resume in the morning.

Everyone went to their respective quarters, but when you got to the Leaf Village's wing, there was only a single room with a bed.

Apparently, during the rebuild, they'd slipped up and only added a single room instead of the usual two, and no one had noticed (Thanks Sasuke).

It wasn't too big of a deal. You'd known Kakashi since your Genin days and slept in the same room plenty of times.

You were a bit surprised when he actually got into bed with you though.

Despite all those sleepovers, this was the first time you'd actually slept so close together.

You stared at him. Not on purpose, just happened to be doing so while your mind was racing.

"Is this an issue? I can sleep on the floor."

You shook your head.

"You sure? You were giving me quite the look."

"I was just... wondering what you'd look like under the mask."

You lied. You couldn't tell him how you were thinking about sleeping in bed with him and it's implications.

He snorted and did something that completely caught you off guard.

He pulled down his mask.

You blushed. How could you not? All these years, and he chooses now, the most random moment, to finally reveal such a wel kept secret.

And then he does something else that yo weren't expecting.

He leans forward and kisses you. You kiss back. He pulls away after a minute.

"I've been waiting to do that since we were teenagers."

You laugh at him, then pull him in for another kiss.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru, being the lazy man he is, put off booking a room to stay in for so long that there was only a single room left st the inn.

You'd scolded him, and he took it, knowing he should've done it when he'd gotten the mission report.

The room was on the smaller side and contained only a single bed and dresser.

Neither of you were interested in sleeping on the floor for the next week, so you agreed to share the bed.

Something you wouldn't have done if you'd known Shikamaru was such a... uncharacteristically chaotic sleeper.

Seriously, he moved around more at night than he did during the entire day. Maybe it's all the pent up energy.

Within an hour of him knocking out, he was already sprawled out across most of the bed, leaving you two options: sleep on the edge or lay on him.

You tried to sleep in the bit of space he hadn't taken, really, but it seemed he was basically drawn to you.

You caved, allowing whatever was going to happen to happen, too tired to fight it any longer.

When Shikamaru eventually woke up, you were on his chest, one arm thrown over him and peacefully sleeping.

He got flustered and quickly tried to get out from under you, waking you in the process.

He was able to dart away without much suspension. Or at least he thought.

The next night was the same, minus the internal battle you'd had prior.

When Shikamaru woke up to the same dilemma, he decided it was best to fall asleep after you.

That night, he'd stayed awake under the guise of a mission report update for the Hokage.

You'd simply shrugged and gone to bed.

He followed when he was sure you were asleep, making sure each of you were on your respective sides of the bed.

He was surprised when he woke up with him on top you, head on your chest as if it was the most casual thing to happen.

He'd begin to stammer about, but stopped when you'd groaned.

"Settle down, would you?"

"I was just-"

"It's not that big of a deal, Shika, just go to sleep."

He listened to you, despite not understanding what was actually going on.

In the morning, he attempted to talk to you about it, but the conversation didn't quite go as planned.

"Yeah, you're a cuddler. Not much I can do about it, so it's whatever."

From then on, it slowly became more natural for your nights to get more personal, even once you'd gotten home.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who insisted on waiting for you in the corner of the room while you did the table reading, rather than go wait in the car or around the lot like the rest of the cast’s personal security did.

Bodyguard!Miguel whose eyes never left your presence, it took you a minute to shake off the feeling, you always felt his eyes burning holes into your back when you were doing something and he couldn’t be right next to you. But after a while, you finally got yourself into the groove of the script material.

Bodyguard!Miguel who-despite mentally checking out ten pages into the script-was still able to pick some stuff up. It was a romance, he wasn’t surprised, since romcoms tend to sky rocket careers these days.

It was a period piece. Your character, who was named Anastasia, was a princess who was coming near the time where she had to be married off to someone else at a neighboring kingdom to be crowned as their queen, the problem is, that your character’s heart already belongs elsewhere, in the hands of one of the royal guards who worked in the castle.

That was all Miguel had really picked up.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finally tones back in when the reading was finished, hearing the head director tell everyone about how they’ll be receiving their schedules through their managers, before dismissing everyone (not before having everyone sign his copy of the script so that the marketing team can post it to social media later).

Bodyguard!Miguel who was about to make his way towards you so he could escort you home, but stopped when he saw your coworker who plays the love interest , Peter B. Parker come up to you to properly introduce himself.

—

“Why hello Anastasia.” Peter said as he came up to you with the friendliest smile you’ve ever seen, to which you quickly returned, both of you shaking hands with your free hands as the other held your respective scripts.

“Sir Tristan.” You giggled, calling him by his character name, before pulling your hand out from his. “I’m excited to work with you, I hope you feel the same.”

“Of course I am! Always ready to act with new and fresh faces-“ his phone starts to ring in his pocket, cutting him off, taking out to read the screen before looking back up at you. “I gotta take this, but I’ll keep in touch, I’ll have my manager send you my number in case you ever want tips, or to run lines over.” He told you, tucking his script under his armpit, giving you a quick wave before slipping out of the (now mostly empty) room, answering as he left.

You finally turned and headed to Miguel, who was now waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. Neither of you spoke until you were in the parking lot, that’s when Miguel finally broke the silence.

“So… Parker huh?” It was obvious Miguel had to be a bit familiar with Peter’s work, who wouldn’t be though. He was a big star at the moment, having just come off from the Spider-Man films. Still, you weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you nodded and let out a small “mhm” anyways.

—

Part 1<

Part 3<

Not proofread.

Word count:500

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz @enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 (if you want to be added click here, it’s easier for me then asking in the comments☺️)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Your last fic was so good! I return once again, i meed more of my husband.

Can we get some soft fluffy smut with per'tah? Maybe the first time they are finally intimate with each other? Can be part of the series or stand alone.

Love ya 😘

woven bonds- pert'ah (orc oc) smut

part 6 of woven bonds and smut

pert'ah x fem reader

water-lillie you keep me sane

tags/warnings- over the time you two have been together his english has gotten better, arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your together!, smut, very gentle man but hes huge so its still rough, heavy illusions to the idea of pregnancy, no condom obvi, virginity taking (on both sides) hes actually a total tease, pert'ah has a frenum piercing

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

i need to learn to stop writing so much- 3739 words

The night was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the small home you now shared with Pert’ah. The hearth had died down to embers, casting a gentle, warm glow across the room. You could still hear the faint crackling of the last burning logs as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the woven blankets beneath your fingers.

Pert'ah was quiet, too, standing near the window, his broad back to you as he gazed out into the night. The silence between you both wasn’t the uncomfortable kind it had once been. After weeks of tentative conversations and quiet gestures, the distance between you two had shrunk. And yet, tonight felt different. Intimate in a way that made your heart race.

“Are you… ready for sleep?” Pert'ah’s deep voice broke the stillness, the hint of uncertainty in his words unusual for him.

You nodded slowly, your eyes drifting toward the space beside you. “Yes....im tired"

The truth was, you had grown used to Pert'ah sleeping on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in his own blanket. He had never pushed for more, always respecting the distance you’d initially demanded. But tonight, you had quietly asked him to sleep beside you. The words had caught in your throat, but they had come out, and he had agreed without question.

Pert'ah approached the bed cautiously, as if not wanting to spook you. His steps were quiet for someone his size, his large, rough hands moving carefully as he pulled back the blanket and slid in beside you. The bed felt smaller now with him in it, his presence all-encompassing and warm.

You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his body beside you. His breathing was slow, steady, and somehow calming.

After a few moments, you turned to face him. “Pert’ah?”

He shifted, turning his head to look at you, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Yes?”

“Tell me more about your past,” you said softly. “We’ve been together for a while now, but… I still don’t know much about where you come from.”

Pert’ah let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. “My past… is not so interesting. I am… simple man.” He paused, his hand resting near yours on the bed, his fingers curling slightly as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I was born into weaving,” he continued. “My family, we make many things. Cloth, art. From when I am small, I learn to use my hands to create.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, a far-off look in his eyes. “My father, he teach me much. Say that strong hands can create just as much as they can destroy.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter.

“And you?” you asked quietly. “What do you want to create… with me?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing. Then, Pert'ah’s large hand slid across the blanket, covering yours gently. His touch was warm, comforting, and his fingers entwined with yours as if they were always meant to fit together.

“With you?” he repeated, his voice low, thoughtful. “I want to create… peace. Home.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his touch tentative but sincere. “I want to make you happy. Want you to feel safe with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You shifted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. For so long, you had resisted, keeping him at arm’s length, but now, lying here with him, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I think… I’m starting to feel that way,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “With you.”

Pert'ah’s arm wrapped around you slowly, carefully, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment. His hand rested on your back, holding you close. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear.

“I never thought I would end up here,” you murmured. “With you. I never thought I’d…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

But Pert'ah understood. He always did.

“We are here now,” he said softly, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “We can...make future together.”

You looked up at him, meeting his golden eyes. “What kind of future do you want?”

His eyes softened, his tusked smile gentle. “One where you smile more. Where we work together. You and me… mates.”

It was a simple answer, but it made your heart swell. The life you had imagined for yourself before seemed distant now, irrelevant. What mattered was the man beside you, the quiet strength in his words and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You shifted again, tilting your head up until your lips brushed his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the space between you disappearing completely as his arms tightened around you.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, you smiled softly. “I think… I’d like that future, too.”

Pert'ah’s smile widened, his rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, his sparkling golden eyes looking down at yours he leans down, and when he doesnt see you pull back, connects, pressing his lips to yours

you kiss back, his tusks feel uncomfy against your lips, but you'll manage, its all worth it for him, you lightly press your hands against his leather sleep tunic, he had sewn two matching ones for the both of you so you had a more comfortable rest on the furs.

you pull back, looking up at him with a sweet loving smile, but one that would never compare to the one he gave back, all that man did was love you

Pert'ah's eyes lit up when you kissed him back, a warmth spreading through his chest at your acceptance. He could feel the slight discomfort of his tusks, but the way you willingly leaned into his touch, despite them, filled him with a deep longing to cherish and protect you.

As you pulled back and smiled up at him, Pert'ah's gaze followed yours, drinking in the sweetness of the moment. His smile grew wider, mirroring yours, but the intensity behind it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. His hands framed your face, gently tracing the curves of your cheeks with his thumbs, as if to memorise every detail. "You are beautiful," he said, the words coming from a place deep within his soul, his voice filled with a sincerity that left him breathless, He leaned in once more, this time tenderly pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the closeness.

The softness of the moment hung between you, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the air with anticipation. Pert'ah's heart pounded against your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the love he felt for you. His lips grazed your temple, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your jawline, seeking permission to continue exploring the contours of your face.

And then, there was no hesitation; his mouth claimed yours, demanding nothing but surrender as his tongue danced with yours in a sensual waltz. Time lost meaning as the world narrowed to the two of you, suspended in a sea of desire and affection. When he finally released your lips, Pert'ah's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything, I need you."

In that instant, Pert'ah knew that he would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy fate itself to ensure that you remained by his side forevermore. Your love was his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason for existing. As he cradled your face in his palms, Pert'ah vowed to spend eternity cherishing and adoring you, unwavering in his devotion to the mate he had found in you.

you pulled lightly on his tunic, and with a look into your loving eyes, he gets the hint, pulling his shirt off, pulling your lips against his again

Pert'ah's tunic fell away, revealing the strong contours of his chest and the softness of his skin beneath. The warmth of his body radiated towards you, drawing you in like a magnet. As you pressed your lips against his, the sensation of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flame of desire that threatened to consume you.

Their lips moved in tandem, a sensual dance of tongues and breaths that left them both gasping for air. Pert'ah's hands cradled your face, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin of your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. The gentle touch belied the intensity of his emotions, the love and longing evident in every caress.

As you kissed, Pert'ah's fingers danced over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if mapping your very soul. His hands roamed under your nightgown, finding the soft flesh of your stomach, your breasts, and your thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and burying his nose in the tender spot between your collarbone and shoulder.

"Mine..my wife" he whispered, the single word echoing through your mind like a promise, a vow, a declaration of love. In that moment, you belonged to him, and he to you, bound together by threads of passion and devotion.

As the kiss lingered, Pert'ah's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until you were flush against him. your bodies molded together seamlessly, fitting like pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for yours alone. The contact sparked a firestorm of sensations, each brush of skin against skin amplifying the intimacy and urgency of your embrace.

Time stood still as you clung to each other, lost in the swirling vortex of desire and affection. Nothing existed beyond the confines of your little bubble, where the world melted away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

you kiss at his jaw and temple, playing with his hair as his kisses your neck, bruising your throat with marks, you pull your own tunic off and if he could be any more excited, he would explode, looking down at your body, your tits, your waist, your tummy, thighs and what laid between them, your sweet core

The sight of your exposed skin seemed to hypnotize Pert'ah. His eyes traveled over your curves, drinking in the beauty of your naked form, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. The bruises on your throat added a depth of color to the canvas of your neck, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.

His fingers traced the outline of your waist, tracing the shape of your belly button, and the gentle rise of your thighs. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of your body, every inch of which he had come to adore. Each kiss, each touch, each whisper of breath against his skin sent waves of desire crashing through him like a tide.

Without breaking eye contact, Pert'ah slowly lowered his head, his lips grazing your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking softly as his tongue began to circle the bud, drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, your inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

As he explored your body, Pert'ah's hands roamed over your skin, mapping every contour and valley, tracing the lines of your veins and the tender curve of your collarbone. Every touch, every caress, every kiss sent ripples of pleasure through you, building upon themselves until you felt like you might burst apart from sheer joy.

Lost in the haze of desire, Pert'ah didn't notice when needy tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, nor did he realize that your nails dug gently into his scalp as you arched into his touch. All he saw was the radiant beauty of your face, bathed in moonlight, illuminated by the pure, raw emotion emanating from your very pores.

"pert'ah…please…more" you plead, squirming, tugging at his hair lightly, you needed more than gentle licks, nothing about this would be light, no matter how hard he tried, but you were okay with that

Pert'ah's ears perked up at the pleading in your voice, and he lifted his head to look at you with a question in his eyes. Seeing your desperation, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out a sharp intake of breath from you. You arched into his touch, your body aching for more, and Pert'ah responded eagerly.

His mouth closed around your nipple once more, this time applying gentle suction, then harder and harder, until the pressure became almost unbearable. He pinched the other nipple with his fingers, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Pert'ah's hands slipped down your stomach, his fingers dancing over the tender skin, exploring every dip and curve, before finding their way to the swollen nub between your thighs. He pressed a finger against you, and you gasped as he applied gentle pressure, circling the sensitive tissue in rhythmic motions.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as he continued to tease and taunt you, the sensations building to a crescendo within you. The tightness in your abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to unleash a torrent of release.

Just as you teetered on the brink, Pert'ah withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and desperate for more. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you writhe in frustration, knowing full well the effect he had on you.

"Don't worry..my love," he purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. "I haven't forgotten about you."

you squirm in his touch as he pulls back, sitting back to look at his work, the glistening slick that covered your cunt like a thin film, watching you pant and plead with your eyes, he leans back on his knees and takes his cock out from behind his loin cloth, giving you a show as he pulls his foreskin back, revealing his sheen-green tip which leaked precum down onto his silver frenum piercing

Pert'ah's showy display had you squirming in place, your eyes fixed on his erect member as he stroked himself slowly, the motion drawing your gaze to the glisten of precum that trickled down his shaft, pooling at the base of his penis.

The sight of his erect cock made your mouth water, your inner thighs slickening further in response, the need to feel him inside you reaching a fever pitch. Your fingers involuntarily drummed a rhythm on his leg, urging him to take action.

His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge in his gaze that he knew you wouldn't be able to resist. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers closing around your calf as he gently but firmly drew your leg up.

"I'm ready when you are, my love," he purred,

you nod, spread and ready for him, he his breath hot against your neck as he slowly dragged his member through the slick folds of your pussy, the tip parting your labia and brushing against your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your lower body singing in delight as he began to rock his hips, slowly pushing his cock deeper into your depths. The sensation of him sliding inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely, was indescribable, aside from heaven and a little (alot) painful

Pert'ah's movements were slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock slowly sinking deeper into your slickened core. He knew he had to be gentle, careful not to push too hard, too fast, not yet. He could feel your body tensing up around his, the gentle pain of entry easing as you began to relax.

With a tender touch, Pert'ah cradled your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes, seeing the mix of pain and pleasure there. "You okay, love?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he paused in his movements, waiting for your response.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he started to rock his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of your depths in a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper and more precise, easing you into a comfortable cadence.

Pert'ah's fingers began to trace the outline of your breasts, his touch soft and soothing, drawing your attention to the sensations building within you, making it difficult to focus on anything else besides the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice warm and encouraging as he continued to move inside you, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously tight around his shaft.

Pert'ah watched as you stared down at the scene below, your eyes widening as you saw his cock moving in and out of your depths, leaving a trail of wetness and evidence of your shared pleasure. A lump formed in your stomach, and Pert'ah's heart skipped a beat as he realized you were struggling to process this new sensation, this newfound intimacy between you.

His movements slowed, and he lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched in his voice, his golden eyes searching for any sign of distress or discomfort.

As he spoke, Pert'ah continued to move inside you, gentle but insistent, sensing that he needed to ease your mind, reassure you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be sure you knew that this was a good thing, that he was here for you, with you, and that he was going to cherish and love you for as long as you'd allow him.

His hands continued their gentle exploration of your breasts, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the hardness of his body, yet somehow perfectly balanced, creating a rhythm that was both soothing and exhilarating, keeping you grounded as you navigated this uncharted territory.

"Y-you're doing...oh fuck..youre doing amazing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his words dripping with sincerity, encouraging you to continue embracing this new aspect of your relationship, to revel in the raw power of your physical bond.

Slowly, Pert'ah began to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more purposeful, driving deeper into your depths, filling you entirely, stretching you in ways you hadn't experienced before. Every stroke brought you closer to release, building pressure in your core, threatening to unleash a torrent of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever known.

As he reached the brink of climax, Pert'ah stilled, his body tensing, his hips locked tight against yours, his eyes fixed intently on yours, waiting for permission to finish what he started. "w-where...where can i..?" he huffs, squelches echoing through his cabin with each heavy thrust, his eyes were heavy, lidded as he glanced down at the imprint he formed your stomach as he thrusted inside

"shit...your...you're so gorgeous...gonna..fi-fill you up...make you a mama.." his word go straight to your core, and it just gushes, you spray all over his stomach and cock, showering him in your squirt

the room around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the primal urge to claim you as his own, to brand you with his mark, to show the world you were his and only his.

As Pert'ah watched, mesmerized, the sight of your gushing fluids splashing against his stomach and the base of his cock, his mind was reeling. This was real, this was happening, he could have a family. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and possessiveness course through his veins.

He let out a satisfied grunt as his orgasm washed over him, his body jerking in reaction, his cock spilling its load deep inside you. The warmth of your inner walls enveloped him, milking him dry, and he collapsed against you, spent but elated.

In that moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, lost in the throes of passion, bound by the threads of their desires and needs. Pert'ah's thoughts swirled with visions of the future, of growing families, of children playing under the sun-kissed skies, of laughter and tears, of memories forged in the fire of their love.

you cry out as he overflows your cunt with his seed, pert'ah heaves and drops down on top of you, panting and whispering praises in aftershock of his first time, you smile softly, snuggling into the bed once again, not caring about the sticky between your legs, you would clean in the morning

As Pert'ah's breathing slowed, his weight shifted, and he curled around you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to keep you from ever escaping, to make sure you stayed right where he wanted you.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. "Mine," he whispered again, the word becoming a mantra as his lips brushed against your scalp.

You felt his heart beating against yours, a steady drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of your own. The comfort of his embrace washed over you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears. In this moment, there was no denying the power of his claim, the intensity of his possession. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of love, lust, and desire.

As the silence deepened, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your shared breathing, Pert'ah's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, the contours, the lines. Each touch was a reassurance, a promise of the pleasures to come, of the life they would build together.

I am TIRED

[7ndipity]

Their S/o Is A Writer

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would be with an s/o who is a writer/author

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to the two lovely anons who requested this! I hope y’all like it!

Masterlist

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He would be super supportive, always find sneaky ways to promote your book like having it conveniently placed in the background of selfies. Tho he’d also be half jokingly convinced that every new character is somehow based on him. “Ooh, this guy’s really interesting, and handsome, what’s his deal?” *wiggles eyebrows knowingly* They’re not based on him, but he keeps trying(the one that is tho, he hasn’t asked about yet, lol)

Yoongi: I think he would really admire you being a writer, but he would also try to respect your creative privacy, similar to how he is with the other members' projects. He’ll read it when it’s finished, that’s how it’s supposed to work. But truthfully, he’s also not-so-secretly thrilled and touched whenever you ask for his feedback or opinion on whatever you’re working on.

Hobi: He would be such a huge supporter of your work! He would read and promote everything you release, even sometimes begging to read your wips, even if they’re still in the nonsense, first draft phase(or as I call them, hell drafts). He might worry about you sometimes if you’re overly focused on a project, taking up the task and making sure you’re getting enough rest and looking after yourself.

Namjoon: He would be so in love with the fact that you’re a writer! He’s an avid reader and would be so happy with being able to watch you bring each new story to life, always ready and willing to beta read anything or give advice if you need him. He makes a point to go to local bookstores to buy your books when they’re released(maybe even trying to go incognito to attend your book signings, hehe)

Jimin: He honestly thinks you’re a genius, it doesn’t matter the genre or how many books you write, he’s always in total awe, tho I think he might struggle at times with your need for so much time on your own to work. But he would find little ways to help and spend time with you, basically becoming your assistant and making sure you have whatever you need; bringing you coffee, making sure you’ve eaten and move around every couple hours.

Taehyung: He really admires your work and loves getting to help out in any way he can, whether that's helping act out scenes with you to test the flow of everything, or just making sure you have a quiet space to focus. He’s the type to surprise you with little weekend getaways to help you recharge and give you a change of scenery to work through any writer's block or issues you might be having.

Jungkook: He would get soo invested in your characters, wanting to know every little detail about them and mourning every misfortune that befalls them. I’m talking calling you up at 3 am, outraged like “WHY WOULD YOU MAKE THEM BREAK UP?! THEY WERE PERFECT TOGETHER!!” Fr tho, he would love your mind and creativity, and would tell you so as often as you’d let him(possibly while trying to get spoilers for the next book in the series, but-)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[bosbas]

Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

 “Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

 “Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?��

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

[paranoiastudio]

Lady Strong

pairing: Aemond Targaryen х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, angry sex, oral (m for f), reader is Laris Stronge daughter

word count: 1,4k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- He's like a snake that's been stepped on. - The doors to the Small Council close and you lean back against them.

Aemond is still sitting at the head of the table, where his brother had been just a few days ago, staring at you.

As always, you feel unsure and nervous under his gaze. That's what attracted you to him; few could make you lose your cool.

- What did you tell him?

- What i had to say. - He evades the question and looks away. An unpleasant chill runs down the back of your neck, a sure sign that something is wrong.

- That's not an answer. - You move around the chamber, the only sound being the rustle of your dress. Aemond says nothing more, only watches you, as if expecting an attack to come.

- I asked him to send for my grandfather. - Aemond lets you take a glass from the table. - I will appoint him Hand again.

- Interesting... - You take a sip. - Dornish wine?

A quiet "uh-huh" was your answer and you take another sip, usually your father did not allow you to drink undiluted wine, emphasizing the importance of maintaining a sober mind.

- And what about my father?

- He is still on the Council... For now.

- And?

- What else do you want to hear? - Targaryen smiles, an insolent smirk twisting his thin lips. - Did you really think that because I fuck you, I would curry favor with your slippery father?

- How dare you speak to me like that?

- I am the prince regent now, it is you who behave inappropriately, barging in here and starting arguments you cannot win.

You spill the contents of the glass, scarlet droplets of wine running down Aemond face and doublet, he closes his good eye. You are not ashamed, it was you who helped him get to where he is now. You deserve respect.

- I am not a mare, my prince! And do not forget about the friends who were with you from the very beginning. Especially since sex...

Aemond pays you with your coin. You knew that you brought him out and were ready, the wine flies past you and ends up on the floor, in the place from which you dodged.

- Missed! - You rejoice like a child, and, leaving the glass on the edge of the table, head for the exit.

You hear footsteps behind you, Aemond can easily catch up with you and press you to the table, you hit the hard edge painfully with your hips and hiss with anger.

- How can such an intelligent woman behave like a little child? - The prince's hand is already entangled in your hair, painfully pulling out the hairpins and hairpins. - Didn't I explain your situation to you well enough? Didn't your father teach you how to behave properly? How can he be a good Hand?

You remain silent, clutching the cold edge of the table with your hands and hissing again when Aemond yanks your hair hard, urging you to raise your head.

- Tell me, sweet girl, is your father worthy of this place? - Gods, he bent you down right next to the place of the Hand, not long ago the smartest men sat at this table, and now...

- Let me explain again. - Targaryen lifts the skirts of your dress and runs his long fingers between your thighs.

- Aemond... - A sharp slap on your ass silenced you. - My prince, please...

No one had ever had power over you, even your father was not perceived as a strong figure. But Aemond Targaryen... He seemed to radiate confidence and authority, everything in his image spoke of it and could not help but attract.

The ladies of the court whispered about the prince's scar and his coldness (he did not court the ladies, never danced), despite his status and royal blood, Aemond was not an enviable groom.

Just as the daughter of Laris Strong was not an enviable bride. Your character and the reputation of your house did not play into your hands and so far you have not received a single worthy proposal of marriage. And, having met Aemond Targaryen, you gave yourself to him without hesitation as soon as he asked. To be under his protection, not to think about anything and just take his beautiful member...

- Now are you behaving well? - Another slap falls on your thigh. - I'm afraid if I forgive you right away, you'll continue to behave like a little naughty girl.

Aemond's hands caress your thighs, spread your buttocks and tease the most intimate parts of your body, the places that were now shamelessly exposed to him.

- My sweet girl... - You hear him kneel behind you, and before you can say anything, the prince's hands are replaced by his tongue.

You cover your mouth with your hand, hoping that the guards outside don't hear you. A warm tongue slides along the wet entrance and flicks the plump and needy clitoris. Aemond's hands spread your buttocks further, forcing your legs wider and penetrates you with his tongue.

The prince's handsome nose rests against your pearl and each of his movements gives off a pleasant tremor in your body. The peak grows quickly and you can't hold back a groan of disappointment when Aemond's mouth leaves you.

Two long fingers replace the prince's tongue and he immediately picks up a fast and rough pace, enjoying your sobs and the quiet squelching of your cunt.

- Aemond, please... - You barely get used to the stretching, when the blond prince deprives you of this pleasure. - My king, please!

You can't hold back a scream, because Aemond fills you with a sweeping movement, and, without giving you a second, begins to move.

You hit the table, your hands slide on the cold tabletop, and the tight corset prevents you from breathing normally, but all this seems insignificant at the moment when the prince regent's cock touches that very place inside you again and again.

- Don't stop! - You breathe heavily, lowering your hot cheek onto the cold table. Your hips rise and Aemond penetrates deeper, hoarsely moaning behind your back.

- You like it, right? To be my dirty little whore... - Your pussy clenches even tighter at the words, the way he talks to you lecherously with his perfect voice stirring something dark inside you. - What would your father say about you?

- Don't you dare. - You slap the prince's hands that are clutching your waist. - Now is not the time!

- I'm fucking Larys Strong's daughter in the Small Council chamber after I failed to appoint him Hand. - Aemond slows down slightly. - Now seems like the time.

You push yourself down on him, pushing your hips back. The tension in your body is unbearable and you feel your pussy tremble and suck on the Targaryen's cock harder.

Aemond continues to whisper something, but you can’t focus, overwhelmed by the orgasm that crashed over you like a tsunami.

You gasp for air, all the muscles in your body relax and you scream from the intense stimulation, because Aemond is not done with you yet.

Holding you with one hand, he finds your clit with the other and continues to caress you, chasing his release. It didn’t take him long, so tightly you squeezed him with your hot and tender walls.

- Fuck! - Targaryen leaves your body and spills onto your thighs, red from his grip.

The prince never cum inside, not wanting to burden you both with unwanted children. You took moon tea, but you appreciated this caution in your lover’s behavior.

- I hope we will not return to this conversation anymore. - Aemond kisses your nape and inhales the scent of your long hair.

- I suppose so. - You lean against the man's broad chest. - Is this from your bride?

There was a scroll on the table with the seal of House Baratheon. You knew that Aemond was bound by duty and his flight to Storm's End was no fun, but it was one thing to know about it, and quite another to welcome a daughter of House Baratheon here in the castle.

- Do we have to discuss this now? - Aemond dresses and carefully adjusts your dress.

- Will your future wife not mind that you have me? - You couldn't bring yourself to say "mistress."

- Frankly, I don't care. - Aemond's grip regains its former strength. - If you wish to discuss this matter, I think we will be more comfortable in my chambers.

You may not have been able to improve your father's position, but you seem to have found a cozy place for yourself.

[madwomansapologist]

in the afterglow (of an orgy) | bg3 companions x tav

cw: i'm not catholic but i feel like i sinned with this. gangbang turns into a orgy: the most dangeous polycule in the making. established relationships/developing relationships. m/m, f/f, m/f. cum swallowing. i am just a whore for tavrem.

an: happy 1th bg3 anniversary! i already love those characters more than i love my brother (wink wink). a bit late, my mom's birthday was my priority, but there we go!

They almost broke you.

You could still feel it all. A sort of discomfort that can only exist after immense pleasure. Those lingering touches on your burned skin. The deep bites collaring your neck, scratches on your back and nape. Dried tears staining your cheeks. Raw lips, just like the insides of your thighs.

Will you still feel it all tomorrow? Will their kisses, bites, slaps, hands, still be covering your body once you have to come back to old harsh life? Oh, yes, it will. That pain and pleasure inflicted on you won't suddenly dissapear. It will fade eventually, but you will still have bruises to gaze upon for some time. You prefer it that way. Everytime it aches, you'll think about them.

But not now. For now, there is nothing on your mind. Not a worry, not a memory, not a dream: all you have is moonlight's embrace and the warmth of the bonfire.

Such a loud silence took over the camp. As if it could even be called silence. Heavy breathing and soft whimperings. Moans so loud they still eccho into their heads. Such a filthy harmony.

"Hells", Wyll was the first to speak. He couldn't say much more than that.

Karlach groaned, her throat let out a sob almost palpable. Her whole body burned hotter. Smoke came out of her mouth, and Wyll wondered where she found the cigar. When. If she had more to spare. "More like heavens."

It wasn't planned. It wasn't expected. It was a hard day, and it turned into a cold night. In some moment in between those two, someone had to start it. This. Not that any of them could remember who did.

It was normal for you to kiss one of them when surrounded by the others, but you were always aware of the weight of their gaze. Some prefer to pretend it wasn't happening—Gale and Karlach would suddenly find something so interesting in their hands to look at. Others would enjoy it—Shadowheart and Wyll know how the other taste, and have shared a fair amount of wine watching you with Astarion.

And still, there was a line you decided to not cross. A point where you would stop, no matter with who you were, no matter who surrounded you. They all respected it, just like you did theirs. Shadowheart would tease, some would pout, but none would make you feel less than safe with them.

But then, someone had to start this. They really can't remember, the beggining of the night dizzy and so far away, but somehow they know who decided to do that. You. It could only be you.

Gale put on his navy robe, his cheeks burning brighter than the bonfire. Once he disappeared inside his tent, Astarion rolled his eyes and went back to watch the stars.

He knew it would make things too complicated. Shit, he knew it, but he wanted it. Wasn't it already difficult to be with you? It took him too long to understand you, to trust you, and now because of a night he might have weakened his bond with all other companions.

Not that they even matter that much. You're the strongest between them. Astarion needs to be safe, and you proved again and again that you can do that. Let the others suck on their own insecurities. Astarion will make sure to have you by his side when he avenges himself.

Lying to himself won't change the fact Astarion chose to do everything he did. It was all a choice. Every kiss, every bite, every thrust. And so did that damned wizard. Astarion will keep on lying to himself, pretending not to notice as his heart shatters once more.

Then he felt the blanket over his skin. Astarion opened his eyes, and this time he couldn't look away from the mark on Gale's neck. "Oh, darling, you can be sweet", Astarion bit his tongue. "Unlike your blood."

Gale sighed. He kneeled besides you, covering your body. You were already dozzing off, but he saw a tiny smile spreading across your face. "How you feeling, my love?"

"Gross", you whispered. Gale chuckled, his thumb carressed your lips. You knew your whole body was covered in cum, but you couldn't care less once he licked his finger. "I can still feel you inside me. All of you."

A cold hand touched yours. Shadowheart was the last to get tired enough to stop. Her leg is intertwined with yours, now covered thanks to Gale, her knees stiff against your core.

"You've been so good", her voice, so soft, felt like a lullaby. You gazed at her lips. Such tender words for someone who rode your face calling you a whore. "What do you want, lover?"

Supporting yourself on your elbows, you tried to get up. Once your clit brushed against her knee, you whimpered. Shadowheart stared at you, and Gale held your arms. "I'll get clean", you said, waiting for them to give you space to move.

"Not so fast, dove", Shadowheart sat, the blanket falling and revealing her beautiful body. She was as burned as you. "You took all of us. If you can walk, then I will be scared."

Gale sat besides you, supporting you on his chest. You were sat now, but not any closer to getting up. "You are a sight", he whispered against your ear. "Let us care for you."

"I feel dirty", you said. "I just want to get clean."

Wyll raised from his spot, and Karlach watched as he walked away from her. She felt the lack of his weight on her chest.

She still burns. Less than she used to, but she does. And yet, there is not a person without the markes of her hands and lips. Karlach burned every single one of you, and no one wanted her to stop.

Karlach is used to feeling cold. It was so lonely and for so long. That's the first time in a while she feels hot and it isn't a bad thing.

"Is that a pout?" She teased. You wanted for her to be closer to you, but by the way her legs tremble you knew Karlach couldn't move. So did you. "Don't make me bite it out of you. Sit down and relax. You fucking earned it."

Wyll came back carrying towels and soap. Watching him, you relaxed against Gale's body. He kneeled in between your legs, and the first thing he did was to kiss your forehead.

"They are right", Wyll joined them in this little quest of preventing you from moving. "You've been so good. For all of us. Now let us take care of you, doll."

Wyll then kissed your knuckles, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. As if you both didn't knew his cum was deep inside your ass.

"Astarion, get her something to eat", a voice from behind you made you shiver. "Gale, we need a bath. You can warm water, can't you Shadowheart?"

"Oh, dear Lae'zel, I fear I can't." Shadowheart rolled her eyes, moving her hands as a rune appeared on the floor.

They can banter for however longer they want it. Everyone knows how long they spend fighting one another to ensure they would be on top. Between the two of them, it was more a battle than sex.

Exactly what you said they needed.

A purple glow you saw by the corner of your eyes worked as a telltale of Gale's magic. Only when you saw the bath floating until it reached the runes you understood it. They were about to bath you.

The camp was no longer silent. Watching the chaos of it all, Astarion chuckled to himself and went after something for everyone to eat.

Nothing changed.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

baldur's gate 3 taglist: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[thrashkink-coven]

Special reminder to all the new Luciferians that forgot that he is the adversary, yeah, he’s gonna fuck with you FOR FUN.

If you’ve been working with Lucifer for a week or so and have started getting “conflicting” messages, you are not alone 😩. Lucifer loves to test us, he loves to see how deep our values go. He will purposely say things you disagree with or it would seem like he would disagree with just to fuck with you. This dude LOVES to debate.

For example, a large part of my relationship with Lucifer involved coming to terms with my neurodivergency. For weeks we were working on accepting my limits, being aware of my disorders and having patience for myself. But during a meditation I got the very strong message from him “People with mental illnesses are just looking for an excuse to be lazy”

and I was like ????? what the fuck???? No they’re not??? You fucking idiot???? Who am I talking to right now???? And he was like “yes and anyone who claims to have a disorder without a diagnosis are just looking for attention. Prove me wrong if you think differently”

and I blew up, providing so many arguments for why he’s wrong and why that stance is so stupid, and eventually after a while he was like “Hm… that’s interesting. I guess you’re right. Now that we’ve established this I guess we won’t need entertain the idea anymore”

and any time after that, when I was having self doubts, maybe I’m just faking it for attention, maybe I’m just lazy, Lucifer has been like “OH! So I guess I WAS right!” and I’ve been like NOOO!!!!!! YOURE WRONG!!! THE ENTIRE IDEA IS STUPID AND I WONT LET YOU TELL ME OTHERWISE!!!

and Lucifer will then be like “Oh, good then. Don’t let you tell you otherwise either”.

He will press your boundaries, even if only to make sure YOU know where your boundaries are. When writing a spell together Lucifer has been like “yes, we will also need to sacrifice a cat”

and I’ve been like “wtf no we’re not sacrificing a cat why the hell would I do that”

and he’s responded “Because I said so. You will obey my order without question.” (again, extremely out of character, this is a test’!)

until I finally put my foot down and say “I don’t care who or what you are, doing this goes against my core values and I will not abandon those for you or anyone. With all due respect I refuse to do this task”

and Lucifer will be like “I’m just fucking with you, I really liked the way you stood your ground against me though, that was very hot”

and for even less obvious things, Lucifer will test you. He wants to know why you think the things you think. We recently had a very long conversation about the concept of Pedophilia. Super uncomfortable, a conversation I didn’t know we’d ever have, but it was important. He starts by asking me if pedophilia is wrong. Um what??? Obviously???

“Why is it wrong? Explain your reasoning.”

Well because it hurts kids.

“What about non offending pedophiles? What about pre offending reformed pedophiles?”

You don’t have to have the answer to those questions, but you must understand that the answers to those questions matter, even though they are incredibly uncomfortable. Are there evil people? Do evil people deserve empathy? What is an evil person? I don’t like thinking about that, that’s the reason why I don’t have an answer. Lucifer will force you to come to that answer.

“How do we conduct a society where we prevent pedophiles from hurting children without creating another form of discrimination? Do you believe pedophiles deserve empathy? Do they deserve to die? How do we deal with murderers and rapists without becoming murderers and rapists ourselves? How do you console yourself with the reality that some people genuinely enjoy evil things? If you were the Emperor of Hell, how would you manage all the most wicked people who have ever lived? Why is incest bad? Why is murder bad? Do racists deserve to die? Do war criminals deserve to die? Who should be allowed to determine who deserves to die? How far does your empathy extend to people who have done horrible things? How does your moral compass navigate these complex scenarios? What is right and what is wrong? Why do you believe the things you believe?”

There will be times when it seems like he’s trying to do everything in his power to just disagree with you. It’ll seem like he’s leading you to argue with him, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’ll ask you questions that should seem like common sense. He’s establishing that not only is it okay to disagree with him, but that at times, he will force you to, to ensure that you are not deriving your own personal values from “whatever God tells you”. He will lie to you, just to see if you’re able to identity a lie. He will say things that he obviously doesn’t believe, only to hear why YOU don’t believe it. It’s important to be firm on your boundaries even if your God is pushing them. You should not be afraid to disagree. You should not be afraid to disobey if it is important to you. Lucifer is not a Shepard and you are not a sheep. You need to understand your own morality alone, without God, without a cheat sheet telling you the answers. and you need to be firm on those. To the point that if God Himself told you differently, you wouldn’t budge.

So if you’ve started working with him recently and are confused as to why he suddenly started saying things you disagree with, investigate what he may be trying to get across. You’ll learn a lot more about yourself.

[pinkaditty]

He Knows

(Subaru Kagami x MC X Haku Kusanagi; Tokyo Debunker)

omg guess who's back!!!!! im posting porn as per usual. 2day's porn is about tokyo debunkers!! recently started playing that game and WOW haku kusanagi has stolen my heart holy shit man. i picked him and then proceeded 2 watch him jump off a burning ledge it was really something!!! anyways the more of him i saw the more of him i just ended up liking. like when i found out he's left handed i jus melted on impact bro wtf's wrong with me. anyways here have the result of my 72 hour long haku kusanagi brainrot: porn.

summary: haku's been avoiding you. it's because you're with subaru all the damn time. it's only at a party where you're in close proximity that things get... interesting.

a/n: note that the tokyo debunkers characters have no confirmed ages. i am running on the assumption that, since they refer to themselves as adults in the game, drink, smoke, and gamble that they are at least in the college student age range. also, i have never heard of a high school with a chancellor. typically it's universities that have those. i am running on the assumption that all characters are at least 18 years of age. if canon ages come out and turn out to be lower, i will delete this! thank you <3

cw: MINORS DNI, suggestive, no real smut happening but u get kinda close, mostly buildup tbh, self-indulgent (pls like this i spent hours writing it), gn!mc bc mc isn't described physically at all, strongly implied sexual relations, semi-public?, slight cucking if u wanna call it that?, subaru x reader x haku yea

MINORS DNI!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY. THANK YOU.

Casino parties in Sinostra were a lot different from Frostheim parties. 

Where Frostheim parties were the peak of elegance; blue and white and silver, the mood just as frosty as the scenery, the dress code limited to the finest silks and satins, the food limited to the neatest hors d'oeuvres, and the conversation limited to humble whispers; Sinostra parties were the peak of gaucheness; all colors gaudy and neon, the mood joyful and jubilant and raunchy, the dress code ranging from evening dresses to last week’s uniform, the food being whatever was served at the nearest table, and the conversation loud and constantly overlapping. If you asked Haku, he didn’t have a preference. Parties were parties. It didn’t matter what kind.

He was here to have a good time. That was somewhat dampened when he realized he’d have no choice but to hang around you. He’d been avoiding you for a reason, after all.

It had been recently when he realized why his heart thrummed like a drum when you were nearby, the beat loud and monotonous in his ears. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one he’d scarcely felt, and when he realized what it was, he almost didn’t believe it was genuine. Sure, you were attractive, but all his flirting was, at best, to get your attention and to mess with someone cute. Who doesn’t like attention from an attractive person? He blew it off for the longest time, chalking it up to nerves at how you would respond to his brazen flirting, or perhaps surprise when you would talk to him with a sincere glint in your eye. It was crazy, falling for someone who might be doomed to die, but it was like he couldn’t help himself. Something about how you kept going, even despite that, accepting your potential fate but seeking a way to rewrite it all the same—it impressed him. You had the resilience of a ghoul, a will strong enough to devour a curse. So be it. He promised to himself from the moment he saw Taiga attempt to throw you out of the train window that he wouldn’t let you succumb to such horrors just yet. He had thought that, with the mesmer matches, his promise would be fulfilled. But when your eyes shined with recognition upon meeting his gaze again on that train, he knew he’d bitten off far more than he could chew. So be it. His fate was sealed, as it always had been. 

And, of course, like any romance story, you’d gotten quite close with another guy, Subaru. The odd pangs in his heart rang quite clear through his head when he saw the two of you walking together on campus yet again, or sitting together at mealtimes yet again, or when you’d come by Hotarubi to visit him yet again. He felt childish, feeling an odd jealousy bubbling up in him that he immediately tried to tamp down. He didn’t like feeling that way, not at all. He figured he’d have to rid himself of this somehow, so he distanced himself. Yet, the pull towards you was still strong and hard to ignore.

And then he started falling for you, harder, even after he’d implemented distance, completely unplanned. So, yeah, being here with you after weeks of attempting to avoid your presence after such a revelation was something of a downer. And, super awkward. But whatever, he could take it. He didn’t want to walk aimlessly around this party and see something he shouldn’t, so he was stuck with his dormmates, particularly Subaru, who was stuck—albeit, happily—with you. 

The party was going alright so far. The alcohol had given him a light buzz, enough to at least alleviate his nerves, and relax just slightly. He sank into the couch he sat on, adjacent to the bar. Next to him was Subaru, next to Subaru was Zenji, and next to Zenji was you. At least there was some distance, but his eyes met yours in fleeting glances quite often. It was minimally frustrating, but the buzz helped him ignore it. You were engaged in friendly, flamboyant conversation with Zenji, Subaru seemed a little shifty, though that could be chalked up to being in a loud environment, and Haku was leaning back, swirling his drink in his hands. The endless noise of loud voices and gambling wins and losses echoed in his ears as he did all he could to refrain from indulging much more. But your presence wasn’t exactly helping. 

He turned back to you, to give you another fleeting glance, but his eyes landed on Subaru instead. He seemed a little out of it, his skin shining in the low light with a thin layer of sweat, his breathing heavy and laboured, his face flushed a bright pink. Haku stared at him curiously, concern creasing his eyebrows and quirking his lips downwards. He reached a hand out to gently pat Subaru on the shoulder, who flinched suddenly. Haku looked at him quizzically, his eyebrows furrowing further. “You good?” He examined Subaru’s condition further, noticing his bangs beginning to stick to his forehead from the sweat. “Do we need to leave?”

Haku’s mumbled queries gained the attention of Zenji, who glanced over his shoulder. Upon seeing Subaru’s state, he frets, turning towards him and grabbing his chin, tilting his head back and forth. Haku wished he wouldn’t do that, and hoped onlookers assumed Subaru was just shaking his head. Not that anyone would be looking in this direction, anyway. He notices you curiously peering over Zenji’s shoulder. You showed no signs of concern, rather interest.

“Oh my! Are you alright? You’re quite flushed!” Zenji’s voice was pitched with worry, as he further examined Subaru’s face. “Did you perhaps—ah, but you’re not holding anything…” Zenji tapped his fingers to his lips, his eyebrows furrowing with concern. Subaru shook his head at both Zenji and Haku, and waved his hand.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Haku heard a slight tremor in Subaru’s voice.

“Are you sure?” Zenji pressed, leaning towards Subaru, his eyes searching his face for any signs of further ailment.

“I’m fine! Please, enjoy yourselves.” To his credit, Subaru hid the tremor this time, but Haku could still sense something was wrong. However, he decided to let it go, assuming that they wouldn’t be here much longer. 

He took note of your lack of concern. He found it odd, but didn’t think on it much. You were close with Subaru, but maybe not as close as he thought. He hated how the thought of the two of you not being as close planted a seed of hope in his heart. Still, wasn’t concern a normal reaction to a friend being ill?

Haku let it go. They’d be out of here soon, anyway. 

Time seems to crawl by and speed up at the same time, the chaotic haze of the party warping his perception of time. Before he knows it, he’s on his second drink, even after internally swearing he wouldn’t overindulge. And before he knows it, he’s lost count of how many times he’s glanced your way, each time holding your gaze longer than the last. His pining was ridiculous. He felt like a teenager. And the drink in his hand was only a reminder of his low self-control, further shaming him. He sighs and places it down on the table in front of the couch, promptly leaning back in his seat. Once he falsely settles in, his finds his eyes drifting to you again. He quickly snaps his gaze away, but not before he spots Subaru’s quivering figure out of the corner of his eye. He turns to him again, concern once again etching itself into his expression. 

Subaru was trembling now, slouching just slightly, which was unlike him. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe normally, and he was sweating more now, more of his bangs stuck to his forehead. Instead of the modest blush pink his face had been before, he was now a bright red, color spreading from his cheeks to his ears and even to his neck. Alright, this was too much. Even Haku knew Subaru was pushing himself too far. He sat upright and gently placed a hand on Subaru’s back, to which he flinched again. Haku’s concern quickly turned to worry, and his hand moved to Subaru’s shoulder instead, leaning closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Hey, Subaru.” Subaru turned to him, still heaving and blinking at him blearily. “...We should go.” Subaru promptly shook his head, despite his body still trembling. The movement alerted Zenji yet again, who turned to Subaru, noticing his trembling form.

“My goodness, look at you!” Zenji grabbed Subaru’s face, squishing his cheeks. “Are you well? Do we need to take you to Montkranken?” Haku sighed as Subaru shook his head again, stubborn as a mule on this.

“N-No, I swear I’m fine, truly.” His voice shook audibly. Haku had half a mind to take him to Montkranken by force, but knew that no good would come of making Subaru any more uncomfortable. 

Zenji hesitantly let go of Subaru’s face, staring at him dubiously. He carefully inspected him, checking his complexion and forehead. As Zenji flitted back and forth around Subaru, Haku found his gaze once again slipping towards you. This time he didn’t stop it, deciding to let it go so he could hold your gaze at least once more before he shifted his full focus to Subaru. However, he notices you aren’t looking at Subaru, or Zenji, or him. You’re staring off to the left, as though watching the people of the party. He’s confused. Why are you so nonchalant about this? Even before, no concern was on your face, mere interest. And now, it’s like you couldn’t care less. It didn’t seem quite like you not to care about one of your friends. It was quite confusing and frustrating, watching you act so nonchalantly, hardly noticing Subaru’s ailment. But, whatever. Maybe you were just distracted. As he turns his gaze back to Subaru, about to gently encourage him to stand so they could leave, he notices your hand moving out of the corner of his eye. Your hand disappears into your pocket and shifts a bit more. Simultaneously, Subaru lurches forward, grunting. His whole body was trembling now, and his fingers dug into his arms as he desperately tried to keep it together. Zenji immediately leans over, placing a hand on Subaru’s back. Haku feels a rush of panic and leans towards him. “Subaru! What’s—”

Haku stops in his tracks. On the side of Subaru’s neck, facing Haku, there were small red and purple bruises. For a moment, Haku’s confused. What are those markings on the side of his neck? And what’s got him so—

Out of nowhere, something clicks. 

As Zenji continues fussing over Subaru, Haku slowly lifts his gaze to you. He finds your gaze boring straight into him. A shock runs down his spine. 

No. No way.

Haku watches as you smirk at him and you pull something out of your pocket, purposely angling the object so only he could see it. It is something very closely resembling a remote. His eyes flick between the remote and your face, your eyes still holding him captive. He tears his gaze away from you and the remote, and turns to Subaru’s trembling form, Zenji fussing over him. He turns back to you, observing the wicked smile on your face. This can’t be real, right?

He watches as your smirk widens, and you press a button on the remote, slipping it back into your pocket. 

Subaru groans, crumpling further forward, immediately pressing a hand to his mouth to muffle his voice. Haku studies him carefully, watching his expression. Subaru’s eyes roll back just once and the corner of his lips turn upwards in a smile, peeking behind his palm pressed tight against his mouth. 

Oh. Oh god.

Something akin to heat pools in Haku’s lower abdomen. He finds himself gripping the cushion of the sofa he’s sitting on so hard his knuckles turn white. Haku swallows thickly, and jerks his gaze back up to you, finding your gaze boring straight into him once again. Subaru’s muffled grunts grow louder, and now that he knows it’s out of pleasure and not pain, Haku feels the urge to squirm. He feels warm all of a sudden, his own body beginning to tremble with nerves and heat. His lips part as he breathes heavily, his gaze flickering from you, to your pocket, to Subaru, and back to you. Maybe it was a bad idea to have so much alcohol. Your gaze, the knowledge of what was really going on, and Subaru’s grunts—which were quickly evolving into moans, further confusing Zenji—all made quite a potent concoction, and with the alcohol running through his system, it really only served to shame him further yet again. 

Shame is all he can think about… Even as a tent forms in his pants.

a/n: YIPPEE!!!!!!! i finished at long last

also here have this fuckass meme i made thinkging abt all the fics im writing atm:

i guess i have a niche. my roommate literally asked me as i was telling her abt this fic "is it gonna be cuckold" and i was like "WHATEKSLSJK?!?!?!??!" and then i realized. i write a lot of these fics and call them all self-indulgent. is something wrong with me?

anyways wrapping this up!!!!!!! note that i appreciate likes, reblogs, and comments!!! please, tell me all about how much you enjoyed my work, if you did!!!! i really like when people tell me they loved it bc it encourages me 2 keep going ahhhh!!! until next time, readers!!!!!

[cannibalbuffe]

hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])

Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.

I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.

Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.

(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)

Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!

Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons

(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)

‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.

› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.

› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.

› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.

› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.

› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.

› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.

› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.

› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)

› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.

› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.

› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.

› Anyways.

› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.

› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.

› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.

› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)

› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.

› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)

› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.

› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.

› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.

› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.

› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.

› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.

› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.

› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.

› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"

› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"

› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.

› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)

› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)

› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.

› Well, demon.

› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.

› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.

› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.

› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.

› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.

› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.

› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.

› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.

› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.

› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.

› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.

› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.

› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.

› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.

› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."

› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"

› "Definitely not!"

› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"

› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."

› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.

› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.

› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.

› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.

› Thankfully he understands things easily.

› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"

› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.

› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)

› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.

› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.

› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.

› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.

› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.

› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.

› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)

› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)

› And you care about him lot too!

› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)