#and also she loves me so shes forced to appreciate whatever comes out of my brain. (shes sooo able to match my freak i am not worried<3)< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[n0bluev]

The night sky can only be overshadowed by a star (its star.). A star of all things, the one thing that cannot be allowed to see the night of the sky, angled to be hidden away behind dawn and dusk. The night leaves quietly (but is cursed to come back ; avoiding is just like following when an orbit is shared.)

A star can only go off explosively, spectacularly. (Then, collapsed in on itself, away from the world to see (finally part of the shadow the night cast) it seems the bare core is at peace with never bringing day back : darkness soothes.)

Gojo is like a star - bright, hot, shining. Geto is like the night sky - mysterious, deep, endless.

[bunny-1111]

The Anatomy of a Hand - Theodore Nott x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Fluff, slight angst, sexual innuendo

Description: Drunken ager fuels your jealousy over your boyfriend, all coming to a halt when he corners you at a part. How long does it take for your anger to dissolve under his touch?

Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

...

Distance and drinks make for a dangerous combination at least that's what you think as you throw your head back shotting whatever Pansy handed to you.

Across the room, unbeknownst to you, is your boyfriend, like a snake ready to catch its prey.

Shaking his head slowly as he watches you pollute your mind with as much as you can swallow.

You laugh as the liquid burns down your throat, until you watch yourself looking around the room for him, he was also so good at hiding in the shadows whenever he pleases.

You could feel it, his eyes on you, just unaware where it was coming from, as you scanned every corner of the room.

What were you even fighting about?

Oh, right, about how that stupid prissy little Ravenclaw in the year below thinks she can help herself to your teddy.

Yes, he had rejected her and been harsh, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that you had overheard her and her friends talking in the girls' bathrooms.

About how good-looking your boyfriend is and what she would only do for his hands to hold her own, or even worse.

As the memory comes flooding in, so does a new wash of anger, "how unforgivable are unforgivable curses, Pans?" you yell over the music

"Uh uh, don't even think about it" she laughs as she sways to the song

"Just one" you joke, smile beaming, booze spilling

"For Theo? or for that Ravenclaw?" Pansy jokes back

"well obviously f-" you slur

"for me, yeah?" Theo interjects, smoothly nicking the drink from your hand.

Merlin's his voice was like honey, and his eyes lik- No! Mad remember, very completely mad at him and his beautiful dumb fucken perfect face.

It was as if he could read the thoughts running through your mind as he softly chuckled, leading you away from Pansy.

You can't see his face, too busy concentrating on walking straight, but you know him too well. You know that a smirk is now painting his face because his hand is digging deep into the skin of your back.

You feel his hand glide from your back to lace into your fingers. He knows that's all it takes for you to forgive and forget, whatever the reason, and tonight, you felt even a prick of his touch throughout your whole body.

He's got you in a quiet corner, “For me, yeah?” he repeats, looking down at you with that insufferable smugness that only he could wear so well.

His face tells you all it needs to, I challenge you, challenging me.

You squint your eyes up at him, wobbling slightly as you attempt to stabilise yourself, yanking your hand back. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

"Yeah, I can tell; look at that bottle", he laughs, forcing you to look at the half-empty fire whisky that decorated the table you had been at,

Pansy, still at the table, pouring more of what you had started, catches you both and returns the glare with an arched brow and a knowing smile.

Theo returning his attention to you. “Are you planning to hex me for sport, or is there a reason you skulked down a bottle like it would kill you if you didn't?”

The room spins slightly as you fix him with your best glare. Theo extends his arm, latching onto you so you don't fall, taking the cup out of your hand before you can even think of another sip.

“You-” You stop, your tongue catching on your words. You can’t quite articulate it now that he’s here, with his hand on you and his eyes trained right into your own

“You let her—her existence go unchecked,” you spit out, you almost flinch at how fucking stupid the words are that just left your mouth.

"who's what?" he holds himself together, giving his all not to laugh at what you were poking at, all he needed was for you to be mad at his laugher too.

"You heard me!" you say with widening eyes, that's it, repeat it with confidence and hopefully it'll sound smarted this time round.

 “Her existence?” his brows cross

“Yes!” You jab a finger at his chest; him repeating your argument reminds you what you said in the first place, unfortunately, for your resolve is far too solid and warm beneath your touch. “She,she talks about you like she has any right. Like you’re some fucking shared library book she can check out when she can't, alright, cause I got to the library first!.” you rant in your drunken spell

This time, he doesn’t hide his laugh, though it’s soft. “A library book, hmm? Last I checked, I’m not up for loan.”

“Don’t patronise me, Theo,” you snap, though it comes out less biting than you’d intended. The alcohol buzzing through your veins is making it hard to keep up the anger when all you want is to melt into him and forget about everything.

He steps closer, the space between you narrowing until it’s filled with his scent, husky and sharp, and unmistakably Theo. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that it feels like a secret meant only for you.

"And what she said about your hands" your eyes finding the hands in question

"These ones?" he smiles, lifting his hand to your eye line

"Yes! Those hands, those dumb hands that she thinks would ever touch her! For Merlin's Sake, your hands, yours, Theo, anywhere near her, ugh, just the thought!" you ramble

He cuts in "My hands are for you" he states, his face now more serious than before,

"Oh yeah, they seem pretty full" trying harder to keep up with the attitude, staring at his left hand, adorned with a hardly lit cigarette between his fingers, and his right still occupied with the drink he had taken from you only moments before.

"Doesn't matter, baby, they're still for you" he almost frowns down at you wanting you desperately to believe him

"But they're full" you try one more time, gesturing to his hands. Now a frown set in on your face, too.

Without a passing beat, you watch Theodore drop everything that he held, his smoke now on the floor, the drink now abandoned and spilled below you both.

"My hands are yours," he said much lower this time. You took his into your own, guiding your hand to his lips to kiss every knuckle with such tenderness you might faint, your breath hitched. Words couldn't work if you tried.

"Come on" he said as he swung you under his shoulder

"I gotta show you all the things my hands, well, your hands can do" he smirks

You look up at him, infuriating, beautiful, and too good at undoing you. Smiling as your thumb rubs small circles on his palm.

Your breath hitches as his hands slide down to your wrists, his fingers curling around them possessively. His touch is terrifyingly thrilling setting you on fire all at once. He doesn’t move, though, just watches your reaction, his smirk growing wider when he sees the flush spreading across your cheeks.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink up at him, confused. “Say what?”

“That they’re yours,” he says simply, lifting one of your hands to his chest, right over his heart. “Say it.”

“They’re mine,” you whisper, the words barely audible over the thundering of your heart and the music that continues to play regardless of you and Theo being in your own world right now

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Damn right, they are.”

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s guiding your hands up behind his neck, his eyes never leaving yours as he tilts his head down to close the space between you. His lips crash against yours, soft but insistent, the kiss full of all the reassurance you needed

His hands find your waist again, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. You lose yourself in him, the feel of his hands, lips, and everything. He’s all-consuming, and for once, you don’t mind being undone.

When he finally pulls back, both of you breathing heavily, he presses his forehead to yours, his hands still holding you like you might disappear. “Yours,” he says again, his voice ragged but certain. “All of me.”

You smile up at him, your earlier anger long forgotten. “Even your dumb hands?”

“Especially my dumb hands,” he murmurs, a small laugh escaping as he kisses you again.

…

Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

[raven-dor]

I saw your recent Edmund fic and I’m obsessed!

Could you do one where Edmund gets super jealous/overprotective with reader? I love possessive Edmund!

mine all mine

the four times in which edmund discovers that he is overprotective of his wife, and the one time she proves to him she can take care of herself

PAIRING: edmund pevensie x wife!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, overprotective nature, sword fighting, typical Narnia violence, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

🎶 : my love mine all mine - mitski

AN: This is set during the Golden Age, so all of them are adults!! also your title is fair, as in an adjective for just, not at all a description of what the reader looks like!!

part two (mine, all mine, all mine)

one.

He hadn’t meant to listen in to his wife’s meeting, really. But when he noticed Lord Eluna raising his voice, he couldn’t help but linger outside of the door, his hand on his sword's hilt. Y/N’s constantly calm voice interrupted the seething lord. “While I understand the importance of this situation, it does not warrant you to act poorly towards your queen, Lord Eluna.” 

The man scoffed. “By marriage. A marriage which could be easily annulled, seeing as you have not produced his grace any heirs.” 

Y/N laughed, seemingly not phased by his comment. “We are not in desperate need of any heirs, my lord. If you haven’t noticed, we have a plethora of rulers. Unless you are planning something that would warrant the need of heirs.” She paused, and Edmund could only assume the look on her face, the one she typically made when she was proving him wrong. "Are you?"  

“How dare you insinuate-” 

Edmund forced down a laugh, barging into the room. “My lords.” 

The table of twelve men stood, bowing to their superior. Half hearted ‘Your Grace’s’ were thrown Edmund’s way, but he could not care less. He looked at the man who was still glaring daggers at his wife. “Lord Eluna.” 

“Your Grace.” He tore his eyes from the young queen. “We were just-”

“Yes.” Edmund raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I heard. And while I appreciate your obviously kind and thoughtful concern, my wife and I do not need your advice on that particular matter.” 

Y/N turned bright red, widening her eyes when all the lord's jaws dropped. “Edmund-” 

“I’m sure whatever you were meeting about can be postponed.” Edmund looked around the table, waiting for an answer. “Well?” The lords clambered, nodding quickly in agreement. He smirked and walked over to his wife, holding out his arm for her to hold. “My love.” 

She rolled her eyes but still hooked her arm through his. “You are quite dramatic.” 

He laughed, ignoring the prying eyes around them. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The couple walked out the doors, giggling when they knew the lords could no longer hear them. Edmund frowned, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Do they always treat you so horribly?” 

“You cannot keep doing this, Ed.” She sighed.

“What am I do-” 

She glared at him. “You know what you’re doing. They will never learn to respect me if you keep coming to my defense.” 

“It’s been two years. They should have respected you the minute I married you. Actually-” He scoffed. “They should respect you because it’s the right thing to do.” 

They walked into their chambers, collapsing onto the bed. Edmund wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in as she traced shapes into his chest. “You're a gallant and honorable man, Edmund, much more than your lords. But you know as well as I that those old malcontents will never respect me until I give them a reason to.” 

“I wish it wasn’t so.” He leaned down, kissing her temple. “You are a much better leader than me.” 

She scoffed, leaning into his touch. “Not true.”

“Yes.” He nodded, staring at the ceiling. “You are.” 

“If I am..." She appeased him. "It is only because I’ve watched you and your siblings rule with kindness and justice for so long. Please do not put yourself down for my sake.” She stretched up, kissing him gently. “Never put yourself down; you are too perfect for that.” 

“If you insist.” He smiled, feeling lovesick. How could he not? The most beautiful woman in all of Narnia, or, more accurately, the universe, lay beside him.

Of course, he felt lovesick.

two.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled mischievously at her husband. “How old are you now? Eighty?” 

He glared, kissing her cheek softly. “What a charmer you are.” 

She nodded and took a deep breath, straightening her dress as they prepared to enter the ballroom. “Well, you didn’t marry me for my baking skills.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Your baking skills are perfectly adequate.” 

She scoffed, looking up at him once more. “Don’t lie to me, Edmund Pevensie.” She fought the smile that threatened to break her act. “You flatter me too much, I think.”

He felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her senselessly. He had that urge constantly, but it was especially difficult at that moment. “You are a true beauty. Have I told you?”

She blushed, turning her face back towards the grand doors. “Behave.” 

He nodded, still looking at her in awe, enjoying the way her flushed cheeks complemented her dress. He had always loved her in the color blue. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The ushers opened the doors, and they stepped forward. “King Edmund the Just, and Queen Y/N the Fair.” 

The room exploded into applause for the Just King, and the pair descended the stairs, focusing on not falling in front of all their subjects. Peter, Susan, and Lucy sat on their thrones at the bottom, smiling brightly. Lucy gestured toward the Maestro, and Edmund led his wife to the middle of the ballroom. “I do wonder what they'll play.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Y/N's smile grew as their wedding waltz’s familiar intro echoed through the hall. “This isn’t fair.” 

He laughed at the irony. “Why not, my love?” 

“It is your birthday, not our anniversary.” 

He spun her around the room, whispering. “I happen to like this song.” 

“Edmund…” She blushed again. “You should have chosen a song that you love.” 

“I did.” The waltz ended, and he bowed. “It reminds me of you; why wouldn’t I love it?” 

Her eyes were watering, and he suddenly felt horrible, his stomach twisting. “I’m sorry, did I-” 

She leaped up, kissing him soundly. The crowd gasped, but Edmund didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back, their foreheads touching. “I don’t deserve you.” 

His heart felt full. “Quite the opposite, really.” He kissed her once more, nuzzling his nose with hers. “I love you.” 

Lucy clapped her hands, pulling the crowd's attention away from the happy couple. “Thank you all so much for attending my brother’s 24th birthday ball!” The room erupted into cheers. Lucy smiled. “Help yourselves to the buffet, or take to the dance floor. Happy Birthday, dear brother.”

The crowd dispersed, and the pair walked up to the thrones, sitting beside each other, still holding hands. Peter muttered, smirking. “Couldn’t have waited until later?” 

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t have a love li-” 

Y/N scolded her husband. “Ed.” 

Peter glared playfully at his brother. “My love life is none of your business, thank you very much.” 

Susan laughed. “How is she?” 

Peter blushed. “She has a name.” He straightened his posture, looking out into the crowd for who Y/N could only assume they were talking about. “As perfect as ever.” 

Lucy giggled. “Have you tried talking to her?” 

Peter closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his throne. “I am getting attacked from all sides, it seems.” 

Y/N smiled. “I think it’s sweet. You seem very in love.” He smiled back, looking longingly at the buffet table, where a gorgeous maid stood handing out desserts. Y/N nudged him lightly. “You could ask her to dance.” 

He laughed, and when he realized his sister in law was not laughing, stopped. “I fear she would not like the fuss.” 

“Ah.” Y/N looked over at the girl again. “I will be right back.” 

Edmund whined. “Where are you off to?” 

“None of your business, Edmund.” She kissed his cheek quickly. “Do have fun at your own birthday party.” 

He sighed as she walked away. “How can I when you’re leaving?” 

The fair queen glided across the floor with the intention of making conversation with the girl the High King was infatuated with. She had almost reached Peter's love when a hand wrapped around her waist. She gasped, pulling herself out of the stranger’s hold. The visibly drunk lord bowed teasingly. “My Lady, would you care-” A hiccup interrupted his question. “Would you care to dance?” 

She smiled politely. “I’m afraid my card is full for the night. But thank you for the offer.” 

The man tried to speak again, but she turned around, walking back towards the maid. 

Edmund had seen the entire interaction, gripping the handles of his throne tight enough to break the solid stone. Peter whispered. “Edmund, don’t do anything rash-” 

“He just-” 

Peter gave him the stare, that older brother stare that he tried to reserve for hard moments. “He will be dealt with, trust me, but you need to be subtle-” 

Edmund stood up, stalking over to the drunken lord. Peter sighed once more. "He will be the first to give me gray hairs.” 

Susan rolled her eyes. “You are twenty-seven, Peter. You’re not graying anytime soon.” 

Edmund grabbed the lord’s arm, dragging him out to the balcony. “A nice night, isn’t it?” 

The lord was in shock, nodding. “Yes, Your Grace.” He grinned. “It is truly an honor to have been invited to your-” 

“It was a nice night.” The young king smiled condescendingly. “Until you harassed my wife.” 

“I-” The old man stuttered. “I meant no disrespect.” 

“Don’t lie to your king.” Edmund seethed. “If you ever do that again, I will rue the day, believe me.” He took a deep breath. “You will apologize to my wife, and after that, you will leave immediately. You are fortunate that I don’t ensure you are barred from the castle grounds.” 

The lord looked upset. Good, Edmund thought, serves him right. “But Your Grace-” 

“Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes.” The old man nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.” He stumbled back into the ballroom, making a beeline for Y/N. Edmund watched from afar, smiling as she smiled, actually genuinely smiled. Then he frowned when she let him kiss her hand. Oh, how he wanted to have him banished. 

Y/N made her way to the balcony, shaking her head at her proud husband. “What have you done?” 

“Nothing. Why do you assume-” 

“Edmund.” She crossed her arms. “You must stop.” 

“What?” He laughed. “Stop protecting you?” 

“Yes!” She yelled, exasperated from his constant watching eye. “I had it handled.” 

“He harassed you.” 

“Thank you Edmund.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, something Edmund did not appreciate at the moment. “I wasn’t aware.” 

“My love.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will protect you. It pains me to see you go through these things.” 

She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are a good man, Edmund.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But if we make a fuss about every lord who gets handsy while they’re drunk, the ballroom will be empty.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Good. Get rid of the whole lot of them. I would rather it just be you and I anyhow.” 

Y/N gasped, smacking his chest lightly. “Edmund!” 

“No one should have to deal with that.” 

“Well, I agree. But you can’t-” 

“Good.” He nodded, ignoring the fact that he just interrupted her. “Who were you talking to after that incident?” 

“Peter’s love.” She smiled. “That girl is quite kind. Spirited, too.” 

Edmund laughed, pulling Y/N in. “Perfect for Peter then.” 

She hummed, leaning her head on his chest as they looked back into the ballroom. “Perfect for Peter.” 

three.

It had been Edmund’s idea to go on an afternoon ride. Y/N had reminded him of the recent attacks that they were investigating, but he’d ignored her. Their horses galloped through the fall woods, leaves falling as they flew through. Phillip muttered. “Her horse is much younger than me, no wonder she keeps beating me.” 

Y/N’s horse, Vilja, laughed. “Perhaps you are simply slow, Phillip.” 

Y/N fought against the laugh that threatened to spill out. “Now Vilja, play nice. Remember, Phillip has to hold Edmund and his ego.” 

Edmund scoffed, shoving his wife playfully as they slowed. “What happened to playing nice?” 

They tied the horses beside each other, walking through the woods leisurely. “It is perfect outside, is it not?” 

Y/N nodded, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It is.” She smiled as the lantern came into view. “It’s been too long.” 

Edmund hummed. “We’re happy here.” He looked down, his heart beating fast. “You would tell me if you weren't happy, I hope.” 

“Of course, Edmund.” She smiled. “I'm very happy here. I only meant we’ve been here for a long time. After all, it has been thirteen years.” She looked back at the lantern, pulling Edmund along with her. “I wonder how long it’s been there.” 

He laughed, kissing her temple gently. “Who cares?” 

“Edmund…” She leaned into his touch. Feeling mischievous, she pulled out of his hold, sprinting further into the woods. 

Edmund groaned, chasing after her. “This was funnier the first time.” 

The nymphs giggled as they watched the couple run through the woods. Edmund spun in the clearing, squinting as he tried to find his wife. “Y/N, you know I’ll find-” A piercing scream broke the joyful nature of their fun, and his heart sank. “Y/N?” He waited for her response, another scream echoing through the forest. He ran towards her, unsheathing his sword. “Y/N!” He broke through the woods, finding his wife backed against a tree, a wolf growling in front of her. Edmund stood in between them, pointing the sword at the wolf’s head. “We don’t want to harm you.” 

The wolf simply growled. Odd. Edmund whispered. “Stay still, my love.” He stepped forward, addressing the wolf once more. “You have one more chance to leave us. We won’t harm you if you do so, you have my word.”

The wolf leaned back, lunging at Edmund, and he slashed his sword, killing the animal in a single blow. Y/N stood silent behind him, staring at the ground. “I thought all animals spoke in Narnia.” 

“So did I.” Edmund knelt beside it, checking for any witchcraft of any sort. 

Y/N smiled sympathetically, kneeling beside him. “She’s gone.” 

“He was wild. There had to have been-” Edmund was silenced by a gentle kiss. He blushed. “What was that-” She kissed him once more, smiling. 

“Edmund, she is gone. For good. And you saved me.” She mumbled. “Even though I could have reached for my sword-” 

He rolled his eyes, standing up and extending his hand. “Let me guess? You had it handled?” 

four.

She was radiant in that blue dress, Edmund observed from afar. After he had expressed his love of her in the color, she had ensured that almost all her dresses were that light blue. The rest of her dresses were her favorite color, which Edmund loved on her almost as much. 

Unfortunately, others enjoyed looking at his wife as well. Lately, in Edmund’s opinion, her sworn guard had been looking at her for much too long. He was a conventionally attractive man, Edmund could admit, but he didn’t like that the young knight was looking at his wife the way Edmund himself looked at her. 

He hadn’t brought it up to Y/N, not wanting to be called overprotective for the hundredth time. So he watched from afar, making sure that the knight didn’t make any untoward actions towards her. 

They were currently in the garden, and Y/N was smelling the flowers, laughing and making polite conversation with Ser Ellington. The young man laughed back, reaching out to stable her when she stumbled over a root. Edmund clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain calm. 

It was his job after all, to make sure his queen was safe.

But when he reached out and grabbed a flower, extending it to the kind woman, Edmund snapped. That was not his job. He practically stalked forward, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having. “My love.” He called out. “You look radiant.” 

She blushed. “Edmund, I thought you had your meeting.” 

He nodded. “I did, but we finished early, I thought I would accompany you for the rest of the day.” 

“Of course.” She looked over Edmund’s shoulder at Ser Ellington. “You are excused for the day. Thank you, Ser.” 

The knight bowed. “My Queen. Your Grace.” 

Edmund watched suspiciously as the young knight walked away, only turning back to his wife when he turned the corner. Y/N smirked, tilting her head just so. “You have no need to be jealous, my love.” She turned back to the flowers, smelling them. 

Edmund smiled guiltily, following after her like a puppy. “Can you blame me? Ser Ellington is not exactly unappealing.” 

She nodded, still not looking back at him. “He is. But I am not married to him, nor do I sleep in the same bed as him every night.” Edmund turned bright red. “Am I wrong?” 

“You are not, but you have to understand. You’re a beautiful woman, I can’t help but worry that someone will steal you away.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning around. “Do you really think I would hurt you so?” 

“No-” 

“What have I done to make you assume so? I love you; I made a vow to you.” She crossed her arms. “Am I just a prize to you that you desperately need to cling to?” 

“Of course not.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m madly in love with you, and the thought of you leaving me, the simple thought…” He pulled her closer, whispering. “Drives me mad.” 

“Edmund.” She glared, pulling out of his hold. “You are exaggerating.” 

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her gently back to him. “Do you really think I do not love you?” 

“I never said that.” 

He laughed. “You act as if we were not a love match. Like we didn’t discover Narnia together. I love you; I think I have since we were young.” He kissed the back of her hand delicately. “I know that I am too overprotective, and I am sorry for that…” 

She smirked with satisfaction. “Good.” 

“But can you blame me? You are a treasure, surely any other man would act that same way.” 

Y/N nodded. “Perhaps. But you are not any other man. You are Edmund Pevensie, and I know you know deep down that I can handle myself. I do not need you to watch over me like a mother hen.” She raised an eyebrow. “I also fought the White Witch, I also helped you form peace treaties, I also-”

Y/N stopped, becoming more irritable by the second when she realized Edmund wasn’t listening. He stared at her so lovingly it made her sick, and she scoffed. “I am going to the library.” 

He nodded, following after. “I shall accompany you.” 

She shook her head. “I would like to go alone.” 

He frowned. “Are you-” 

“Edmund, please.” She sighed. “I love you, but I need to be alone with my thoughts.” Without a second glance, she walked out of the garden, leaving Edmund helplessly staring at her. 

the time she proved him wrong

They had been gone for too long, Y/N thought as she stared at the woods. They had been gone for hours longer than they said they would. She should have gone with them; who knows where they were, where Edmund was. 

She tried to calm herself down and reminded herself that neither Edmund nor his siblings would leave her in Narnia alone, but it was difficult when all of the hunt’s participants were speaking to her at once. 

“Where are they?” Lord Eluna’s voice sounded over the rest. She tried not to glare at him; she could tell the man was enjoying the sight of her under pressure. 

“I understand everyone’s worries; I have them myself, but we all know that the Kings and Queens would never leave their subjects so suddenly. Have no doubt that they will return. I am certain High King Peter and King Edmund dragged their sisters along a trail of the deer’s tracks.” Light laughter echoed through the crowd, relieving her stress slightly. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed a hand to it, rubbing it slightly. “Does anyone else have any immediate causes for concern?” 

The crowd erupted into chaos once more, and she took a deep breath, clearing her throat. “I will take meetings with all of you individually in the main tent.” 

meanwhile...

Edmund sighed, staring at his older brother as he tried to convince himself the deer was nearby. “Peter, we’ve been gone for hours. If we haven’t found the deer by now, who’s to say we’ll find it later?” He practically pleaded. “We should return to camp.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just because you want to get back to your wife-” 

“Peter, Edmund’s right.” Susan interrupted. “This deer isn’t important, and Y/N is there alone with the entirety of the court.” She frowned. “If it were me, I would be rather overwhelmed.” 

Edmund fell into his thoughts, staring at the ground. Lucy whispered, nudging her brother lightly. “Edmund, don’t-” 

Edmund tightened the reigns on Phillip, racing back towards the camp. Peter sighed, riding not far behind him. The dark-haired king didn’t look back; his only thought was that he had left Y/N alone with the egotistical lords of the realm. Phillip slowed, and Edmund jumped off, running towards camp. 

Everything was fine, almost too fine. It was quiet, with a slight buzz of chatter but no worried voices. He stalked toward the main tent, whipping it open. 

There sat his radiant wife, talking calmly with Lord Dolitmov. The older man saw Edmund and immediately stood, bowing. “Your Grace.” He looked back to Y/N, kissing the back of the queen’s hand gently. “Your Grace.” 

Y/N smiled, waving as he walked out of the tent. Edmund tilted his head, smiling. “What happened?” 

She laughed. "The better question would be, what happened with you?” She hugged herself, rubbing her stomach once more. Edmund made a mental note to address that later. “You were gone for so long I assumed you had returned home.” 

He shook his head, frowning as he realized how stressed she had been. “I’m sorry for the worry we caused you; I fear Peter was too fixated on finding the white steed.” 

She nodded. “I wondered.” 

He took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry that I worried you. But I must say, it is rather calm here.” 

She smirked. “I told you I can handle myself.” 

He laughed. “I believe you. Truly I do.” he brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back gently. “I love you.” 

“And I you.” She walked into his arms, burying her head in his chest. “I would have died from heartbreak if you had left me.” 

“I would never.” He kissed her temple. “You know that.” 

She nodded. “I know you would never leave us.” 

He nodded back. “Correct. I would never leave-” He paused, tilting his head. “Us?” 

Y/N looked up sheepishly. “I-” Her eyes started to water. “I’m pregnant, Edmund.” 

“What?” Edmund grinned, staring at his wife in disbelief. “Really?” 

She nodded, and Edmund grabbed her waist, spinning her around the room. Y/N cackled, smacking his shoulder. “Put me down; you’re going to hurt the babe.” 

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I can’t help it.” 

She laughed, kissing his lips softly. “I love you.” 

Edmund leaned down, kissing her soundly. “And I you.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos

[specialagentartemis]

ykw i am having so much fan watching you be a hater, that i’ve decided to ask for more. PLEASE give us a rant about a book you hated.

Haha aw I'm honored. And uh I hope you don't have any particular attachment to Becky Chambers. Sorry in advance.

But A Psalm for the Wild-Built won a Hugo and I do not get the love. Book 1 was nice enough, yeah. Book 2 had me tearing my hair out.

Sibling Dex is a restless Tea Monk who serves the God of Small comforts on the science-fantasy planet of Panga. I genuinely love the idea of a tea monk - part therapist, part confessor, travels around to the different towns, mixes tea blends for people, lets them talk about their worries and fears and stresses, and gives them, if not advice, then sympathy and a listening ear and some calming tea. This is meaningful work but they're unhappy. After doing this for a while they're still unsatisfied with their life, so they go into the woods searching for self-actualization, and meet a robot named Mosscap, a wild robot that lives in the woods. See, hundreds of years ago, all the robots "woke up" and became sentient one day, then they staged a quiet rebellion against humanity's greed and industrialization by walking into the woods and never coming back. Now, the continent is split in half: humans stay on the Human Side, and robots stay on the Robot Side. The Robot Side is kept wild and humans are discouraged from going in there because humans can't be trusted not to ruin Nature. The rpbots are welcome to come to the Human Side, they just never have. Dex is the first person in a While to venture into the woods of the Robot Side, and the first human since the great walkout to see a robot. Mosscap gives Dex a lot of philosophical pep talks about not pushing themself so hard, about allowing themself to just rest and appreciate the world without feeling like they need to be Providing A Service to justify their existence. It's a nice theme. Underbaked, imo, but nice. Relateable.

Book 2 was a goddamn mess.

Book 1 mostly takes place in the wilderness of the woods, so it's okay if the nice utopian human community Dex comes from was sketchily-built. It Just Works, and everyone Is Just Nice, this is a science-fantasy parable. There were some issues I had with it - like the strict ideological and physical divide between Nature and Humans, and the fact that Dex's religion seems to be the Only Religion In The World, and it's vaguely secular-humanist with the gods being not "really" gods but names given to primordial forces and philosophical concepts, and the religion not really making any demands of its adherents in any way except to become their best selves and devote themselves to what they like... it's potentially interesting, but overall kinda lazy. It felt like Becky Chambers was aware of the idea that having an enlightened-atheist sci-fi utopia is Problematic, so she made there be a central religion, but she also didn't want it to have any of the ~icky~ things religions have, like belief in anything supernatural, or dietary restrictions, or creeds, or codes of behavior, or expectations to make any kind of sacrifice in any way. All the gods "ask" is that humans observe and appreciate the world. But whatever.

In book 2, Dex and Mosscap return to Dex's society, and the book seems to want to explain how the world works, and oh my GOD is Chambers not prepared to do this.

"Observe and appreciate" is all anyone is asked to do. Book 2, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, is an ode to ultimate virtue of Doing Nothing. There's this attitude I see in a LOT of utopian fiction, where the author is bluntly just not a good enough author to imagine a utopian society where people act like people, so in the world of Panga, utopian society is achieved through 1) homogeneity 2) no one giving a crap about anything.

As far as I can tell, there is the one religion. Most people are Fine with this. Most people are Fine with anything. There are no characters with distinct personalities. There's no money, except there is, except it's not real money and no one will deny you anything if your balance is in the red, even though your balance is available to be seen by anyone - this does not cause any kind of shame or pride or competition in any way, and Dex doesn't understand why it might. There are no hierarchies or governing bodies, people just volunteer to step up when things need doing (this is portrayed as great and not deeply concerning). There are different communities, but in them, everyone is uniformly nice, friendly, and helpful at all times. There are some parts of nature, like the seashore, where people are not allowed to go because they'll ruin the environment, and this is accepted as correct and necessary. Most people live in hippie, pro-recycling, high-tech, end-of-history green communities; there's one group they visit, however, that doesn't trust technology, and lives in a vaguely sci-fi-Amish way. You might think, Dex travelling around with a robot, this might cause conflict! It does not. The people from this community calmly explain their anti-technology position, Dex calmly explains their pro-technology position, and they politely respect each other. "Not bothered either way" is a phrase that turns up in various permutations a lot and is held up as the good, mature, responsible way to be.

There's a scene where they catch a fish for dinner, and instead of killing it, the scifi-Amish guy says "We let the air do that for us, and they let the fish slowly suffocate to death in the air while they all look on solemnly and sadly. This is portrayed as a deep, beautiful moment of them witnessing and honoring the final moments of a living being's life. And not. y'know. them torturing a living being to death so they can keep their own hands clean.

This is what I mean about the valorization of passivity: observing is all you are ever obligated to do. Letting a fish die in the air is better than killing it quickly and humanely, because doing things gets your hands dirty, while letting things simply happen is the Correct way to do it.

At the end, Mosscap and Dex blow off all their promises and appointments and just hang out at the beach chilling out instead, because do what you want forever, you don't have to do shit. This is the happy affirming ending. Mosscap you fucking said you'd meet with the city leaders as the robot ambassador to the humans, did you tell them you were blowing off this commitment because you didn't feel like doing that anymore??? Did you even let them know??????

It is SUCH a baffling book. The theme wants to be "you are more than your job, you deserve to just Be" and ends up feeling like "you don't have to do anything ever, and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do if you don't feel like it, and you don't owe anyone anything and searching for a purpose in your life is just making you stressed out so chill at the beach instead."

The thing that drives me crazy is like. Mosscap cheerfully tells Dex about robots that spend twenty years in a cave watching stalactites form because they think it's beautiful, and those robots are just as much a valued part of society as anyone else. Appreciating beauty and wonder is good enough, you don't need to be productive. And I'm just. fuckin. like. Humans are not robots! Robots don't need to eat or sleep! Humans need food, and clothes, and shelter, and medical care, and if we don't have SOMEONE working to provide that, we Die! Nice as it would be, we CAN'T just all do nothing forever until we feel like it! We can't do that!

And at the same time, the book bizarrely treats wanting a purpose in life as like... almost disordered. If you are seeking a purpose in life it's because you just haven't let go of your guilt and relaxed enough. It's bizarre. Valorization of passivity. Humans aren't meant to be in nature so we just Shouldn't. Doing nothing and having no strong opinions is the most self-affirmed you can possibly be. Letting a fish suffocate is more moral than quickly breaking its neck or spiking its brain. Someone else will do it. Who, if we're all supposed to be resting and only doing what we feel like? Don't worry about it.

"The heart of this book is comfort [...] There is nothing in it that can hurt you." YOU LIAR BECKY CHAMBERS THE FISH SCENE STILL DISTURBS AND UPSETS ME TO THIS DAY

[justlemmeadoreyou]

harry with a very pregnant y/n-headcanons

-> Harry is the ultimate doting husband when Y/N is pregnant. "Let me get that for you, love," he murmurs, jumping up to fetch her whatever she needs before she can even ask. Y/N tries to protest that she's perfectly capable, but Harry insists on waiting on her hand and foot.

-> He constantly showers her with thoughtful gifts - fresh flower bouquets, her favorite snacks and treats, cozy new maternity outfits. "These are for my two favorite people," Harry says softly, cupping her bump as he presents the offerings. Anything to make his wife feel cherished and appreciated.

-> Harry can't get enough of cradling Y/N's bump and talking or singing softly to their unborn baby. He lies with his head in her lap for hours, utterly enamored as he watches her belly ripple with kicks. "Strong one, just like your mum," he chuckles.

-> Harry is in a perpetual state of awe and wonder throughout y/n's pregnancy. He spends hours just watching her, mesmerized by the way her body is changing and nurturing their child. "You're so incredible, you know that?" he murmurs, reverently tracing the outline of her growing belly.

-> When Y/N is feeling achy and sore, Harry draws her a steamy bath filled with fragrant rose petals and flickering candles. "This is your night to relax, my love," he murmurs, gently massaging her feet and lower back after she soaks.

-> Since Y/N tires easily, Harry cheerfully takes over all the cooking duties. "What's my pregnant queen craving tonight?" he asks with a wink, happily whipping up even the most bizarre food combinations her hormones demand.

-> When y/n's ankles start swelling, Harry insists on giving her regular foot massages. He's gentle and attentive, working out the tension in her muscles with skilled, nimble fingers. "Just relax, love. Let me take care of you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her ankle.

-> With nesting instincts in full force, Y/N can't stop buying things for the baby. Harry comes home to find she's purchased hundreds of newborn onesies. "Erm…I may have gone a bit overboard," she admits sheepishly.

-> He sneaks out to buy an entire nursery's worth of plush stuffed animals after seeing how Y/N's face lights up around them. When she wanders into the newly-decorated room, she bursts into happy tears. "For our little one," Harry says gruffly.

-> In Y/N's final weeks, Harry refuses to leave her side, terrified of missing the birth of their child. "Please, let me just sleep on the floor tonight," he begs, not wanting to be separated for even a moment. His overprotective hovering is both endearing and exasperating.

-> The pure, unguarded adoration in Harry's eyes whenever he looks at his pregnant wife is enough to make anyone swoon. "You're the most incredible, strong, beautiful woman," he tells her often, cradling her face tenderly.

-> After the baby's arrival, Harry dotes on Y/N even more - keeping the house tidy, ensuring she's rested and well-fed, while also being the most loving, smitten new father. "I've got you both," he murmurs, pressing kisses to her temple and the baby's downy head. "Always."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

A Perfect Day (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend a fall day together. A/N: This is an excerpt from my series, Here to Misbehave! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Halloween mentions, Spencer!POV Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But my love wasn’t a season, and when asked where I'd rather direct my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Her face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The offered truce was received poorly; her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration.

“I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are… wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway). I clutched tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating a little bit the way my voice jumped. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway.

The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough to let the full force of my affection show.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it.

Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate toward my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through an amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression.

“I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seat belt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away.

I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted I should.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. I took a moment to appreciate the memory before she'd interrupted the thought with a new one.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. But I think we were trying to prolong the high of the perfect day, finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour on our way home.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her?

And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me.

“This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season," I said.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns. Her joy became even more obvious when we'd stumbled upon a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear.

The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

My love had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her nearly middle aged FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned.

And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. The final destination for us to rest our heads and reminisce over a day spent cycling through every autumnal activity. Just one more place to end the day.

Home, I thought as I looked at her. All there was left to do was go home.

The perfect end to the perfect day.

Want more? This blurb is actually an excerpt of my existing work, Here to Misbehave! Check out the series masterlist here!

[nervoussystemss]

Bloodlust - Homelander x F Reader (18+)

A/N: Current obsession is Homelander. Somewhat fluffy fic, somewhat smutty fic.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61216822

Summary: You and Homelander have been dating for a little. He's able to smell your period before you start and during, and takes it upon himself to ease your cramps and make you feel good.

"You know I can smell you, right?"

You almost jump from fright. You're lounging in bed when he comes in. He doesn't have a key to your place. You never gave him a key. So how—you know what? Never mind. It's better to just not ask questions with him sometimes. "You know knocking works, right?"

"I'm the Homelander. I—"

"—can do whatever you want. I know." You fix him with a look. Don't be cocky. He grins. "I literally showered like two hours ago. I know I don't smell bad." You do your best to try to look offended.

"It's not that and you know it. You're on your period." His eyes have turned dark and hungry for a few moments. With his bloodlust, it's not surprising he can smell it. "Just started, actually." He inhales deeply, and when his eyes open, his pupils are blown wide. He smiles at you. "Heavy flow today, huh?”

"Don't be weird about it," you say as you try to smile. "It's usually heavy the first two days, especially the second."

"What do you need?" is his follow up question.

You tilt your head.

He rolls his eyes up to the heavens. "I can smell your period before it comes, you know. So. That was actually a hypothetical. Because—" he pauses, making his way out of the room, before he comes in with a package of pads, chocolate, and a literal bouquet of roses "—I already got you this."

When you're quiet and stare, he looks like a kicked puppy. "You don't like it?"

"No, no, I do. I just wasn't expecting this," you quickly say as you shift to an upright position in bed. "We've been dating for—what, two months?"

"The amount of time we've dated doesn't matter to me. Am I not supposed to treat my girlfriend well, especially when she's on her period?"

You don't have a rebuttal. "I appreciate it. Thank you, Homelander." You reach a hand out, beckoning him over.

He does, putting the package down on the bedside table and then placing the roses in a vase that was already sitting there. You do a double take. You didn't own any vases to your knowledge. He must have put it there while you were in the shower.

He props his head on his hand, watching you silently. You were so beautiful. He could stare at you for hours. He takes your hand in his as his thumb caresses your hand gently. The feeling is nice.

Had he planned to come over? You two didn't make plans for today, but you knew he was impulsive spontaneous sometimes.

He offers you the chocolate bar he bought silently, and you break it in half, offering the other half to him. That's the way you usually do things—sharing. He doesn't really get it. He's always been akin to a dragon, hoarding everyone and everything he loves close to his heart and never letting them go. Pictures of Stormfront were still stored, photos of Ryan, Madelyn, Maeve. And now, of you too.

You have been added to what he deems his collection, and he's not letting you go anytime soon—or ever.

He breaks free from his thoughts, his hand splayed on your abdomen. A frown forms. "You're cramping."

"Yeah." You force a quick smile. "First two days are heavy bleeding but also the worst cramping, so…"

"You know…" he begins slowly, lips curling up into a smirk.

"We're not having sex," you blurt immediately, knowing that look in his eyes.

"If you're worried about the mess, we could always just put a towel." He shrugs as if it's no big deal. "It does help alleviate cramps, according to science. I don't mind. Besides, I'm used to getting blood on me."

"You've never gotten my blood on you," you comment dryly with a roll of your eyes.

"We can change that if you'd like." His suggestion hangs in the air. He moves slowly, nibbling at your earlobe, kissing your collarbone gently, trailing down your stomach kiss by kiss. His lips meet your bare thighs—you were only in a hoodie and shorts—but they don't go further. "Take it off."

"What?" you stammer, completely having zoned out for a moment.

"Your shirt. Take it off."

"It's a hoodie," you correct.

"Same thing."

You take it off far too slow for his liking, but that's okay.

"Your bra too."

You raise a brow. "What's the magic word?"

He lets out a desperate groan. "Please."

"Good boy." You flash a grin as he seems to melt at the praise, right before he yanks your shorts off, quickly followed by your underwear. "You're fast when you want to be, huh?" You try and sound cocky. You sound breathless instead.

"We could always do this slow, babe. Up to you." He's lying. He can't wait.

"Are you sure you don't mind the blood?"

"If I minded, I wouldn't have brought it up to begin with." He brings his face closer and inhales again, eyes once again growing dark as he gives you a look. You nod at him, and that's all he needs. He laps at your clit, slow at first, and when your body jerks, he holds your hips so you don't move. "Too much?" he grins up at you.

"It's fine," you pant out.

"Fine? I'll show you fine." He goes back, tongue swirling before he presses his entire tongue ever-so-gently against your entrance. You hear yourself gasp as you feel a gush. You feel a sense of something. You're not sure what. He pulls back as he licks bloodied lips, eyes trained on you, slightly narrowed. "You okay?"

That was kind of hot. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get blood all ov—"

"It's okay. Nothing to be ashamed about. You're on your period." His voice turns a bit softer. "It's normal. It's natural. I asked for this, and I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. Besides, you taste good. In both ways. Relax."

You do so. "You gonna keep going?"

"You haven't cum yet."

"I don't need to. This is good."

"Have none of your ex boyfriends ever made you cum?" He sounds half baffled and half offended on your behalf. What pathetic losers. He'd put them all to shame.

"No."

"Well, let me change that then." He dips his head again.

By the time he's done and you've finished, he's made you cum three times. You're out of breath as he finally has mercy on you and lets you take a quick shower. You're back in your underwear, shorts, and hoodie once more.

"Thank you," you blurt, "for... that." You motion downwards.

He snorts. "You're thanking me for eating you out?"

"Well, that and making me cum three times in a row. That's literally never happened before."

"Glad to be of service." He tugs you into his arms, sighing contently.

"You don't want me to...?" Your eyes glance down.

"Do you want to?" His eyebrow raises.

"Not right now, no."

"Then no." He shrugs.

"Okay." You rest your head on his arm. "By the way..."

"Hm?"

"The cramps are gone."

"Good to hear." He's not letting you go. Not now, not ever. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what, even if you don't want me to. You know that, right?"

You think you hear a hint of possessiveness leak into his voice. But no. That wasn't right. That couldn't be. "I know. Thank you." You move up to press a kiss to his cheek.

He pretends it doesn't affect him as much as it actually does. "You should get some rest. I'll be right here." He settles, holding you near him as you close your eyes.

You've never felt so cared for and protected as you listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your ear, dozing off.

[navybrat817]

Mission Report

Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: After a night with the two demons, Brock comes to collect your body and faces the fury of all three of you. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, spitroasting, blood, violence (shooting, stabbing, and more), physical and mental torture, dark elements, death, revenge, implied noncon, possessive behavior, supernatural elements, Incubus Stucky (that's a warning, lovelies!). A/N: Fic #10 and final fic for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I had to revisit my incubi the day before Halloween and this is a direct follow up to Ready to Comply. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Less than a day passed since Bucky and Steve claimed you as their own, but it felt like you always belonged to them. You were their eternal award for their capture. They were your reward for the pain you endured. The three of you would scorch the earth together.

Your captors weren't strong enough to endure the flames.

As you lay naked on the floor as instructed, you counted the footsteps as the squad members got closer. There were three pairs of heavy boots, one set which belonged to Brock Rumlow. You almost pushed yourself up when fiery anger coursed through your veins. You wanted him turned to ash just so you could watch the wind blow him away into nothingness. It would be glorious to smile in the face of his demise.

“She feels your rage, Buck. Reign it in,” Steve ordered from where he sat in the corner.

“No,” Bucky spoke in an almost laidback tone from the opposite corner. “Let her feel it.”

In the very short time they bound you to them, you figured out that Steve was the more assertive of the two. It didn't mean Bucky wasn't forceful when he had to be. At the moment though, he wanted you to feel a bit more of his impulsive side.

“Now isn’t the time,” Steve chastised, making Bucky scoff in reply.

You lost the concept of time the day you were unwillingly taken under Hydra's wing. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds did you no good as you waited for whatever horror they decided to unleash upon you. The days were no longer a precious gift, but a stark reminder that you were closer to death.

A sound reminiscent of a snarl escaped as you opened your mouth. “Hydra took everything from me,” you grumbled as angry tears sprang to your eyes. “I want their blood to stain the ground. I want it to paint the walls.”

Thanks to the demons in your cell, your demons, you would get your revenge. You would live to fight again. And you would live to serve them. You promised them forever, after all.

An odd sense of comfort surrounded you and allowed you to breathe a bit easier. “We can feel your pain, sweetheart,” Steve whispered.

Bucky hummed, the warmth doubling within your chest. “We can also feel your strength, doll.”

“We'll spill their blood,” the blonde promised as you blinked the tears away. “But not if you're impatient. We need you to act docile when they take you out of the room.”

“Stevie's right. We know you're angry. We all are. They'll pay. Trust us,” the brunette agreed. “And we'll have lots of fun along the way.”

Demons were many things and played lots of tricks, but one thing they wouldn't do was lie to you. It allowed you to let the hurt go for the time being. “I'll behave,” you whispered when the footsteps stopped in front of the door.

“That's our girl,” the incubi said in unison, the words wrapping around your heart and reminding you that you weren't alone in this fight.

The bond crackled between the three of you as the door swung open. It allowed you to remain still, just like they told you to. You made no move to cover yourself as the men observed you on the floor. Your demons also made no move to go toward them. With the symbol above the doorway, there was no way for them to escape.

Yet.

“Well, well, well. I thought we’d find a corpse when we opened the door,” Brock smirked. Instead of snapping back the way you wanted to, you made a wounded sound instead. “But I guess they fucked the fight out of you after all.”

“She was a lot of fun to play with,” Bucky said, the phantom touch of his claw moving along your back easing you. “Really does go pliant with a cock in her.”

You had to bite your lip to suppress your moan. They wrung so much pleasure out of you that you stopped counting the orgasms. You were certain their seed was still dripping out of your holes.

“She was stronger than most,” Steve added, one of his claws joining Bucky’s as you made another small sound. It was arousing as much as it was calming. As fun as it would be to beg for their cocks in front of these men, now wasn’t the time to play. And the guards weren’t an audience who deserved to watch you get off. “Feel free to bring her back.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking freaks,” Brock sneered, his hand tightening around the taser prod on his hip. “Get up, bitch. We don’t have all day.”

You slowly lifted your head and held a hand out. All you had to do was pretend just a little bit longer. “Help me,” you whispered.

His lip curled in a dark smirk as he stayed in place. “You really think I’m dumb enough to go in there? Nice fucking try. Crawl if you can't walk.”

Bucky growled in your mind and Steve’s fury simmered in your core as you began to drag yourself across the cold floor, both of your demons itching to attack when the men laughed at your “weakened” state. You let them have their fun. It would be one of the last things they ever did in this world. And it would be your laughter ringing in their ears once their souls went to Hell.

Soon.

Once you crawled far enough out of the room, the guards finally moved to grab you. They each took an arm and yanked you to your feet, uncaring of your discomfort, as your head lolled from side to side. Brock’s eyes lewedly dragged along your shivering frame before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his dark eyes. There was no mercy in his gaze.

And you felt none in your heart for him.

The fingers on your chin tightened painfully, but you didn’t give Brock the satisfaction of whimpering. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered before he forced you to look over your shoulder, your neck straining from the angle. Bucky and Steve’s eyes glowed a furious shade of red as they moved to the center of the room and stared you both down. It would’ve frightened you if you didn’t know that they were yours.

“I think they miss you already. Slut,” Brock taunted, saliva hitting your cheek as he roughly released you and walked down the hall. “Bring her to my office. Let’s see her fight back when she can barely stand on her own two feet.”

Steve whispered one word as the men began to drag you away. “Now.”

A surge of energy flowed through you as you harshly shoved the guard to your right away with enough force that he smacked the wall. Before the other guard could react, you grabbed his gun from his holster and aimed at his head. “Safety first,” you said, firing a bullet through his skull.

“Stupid bitch,” the first guard snapped as he straightened up. You grabbed his wrist when he reached for his gun, his skin warming under your touch as he gasped air. Just as quickly as his skin grew hot, he grew deathly cold.

“You feel that?” Bucky moaned.

“I feel it,” Steve confirmed. “She's giving us his energy.”

You didn't know how you were doing that since Bucky and Steve used sex to drain life force. Were you a conduit now thanks to your bond? Just how powerful had they made you?

“Help,” the guard gasped before you pressed the gun to his forehead and fired. You smiled when his body hit the floor. It felt like minutes, but happened in the span of seconds.

The blood along the walls also brought an unexpected moan out of you.

Blood. Red. Lust.

“That’s our girl,” Steve praised.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky added, their pride in you making you whimper.

“Really?” Brock muttered from the end of the hall as he turned to face you, his gun in hand as you shrugged. “I should’ve known you’d do something stupid. Now I need to hire two more men.”

“Actually, you’re the one who did something stupid by giving me to them,” you said, gesturing behind you. “And we’re going to kill you.”

Your captor’s scoff made you smile more. He didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. “Just because you have the serum doesn't mean you're not expendable,” he said, aiming the gun at your heart. “Let's see you try and kill me with a bullet in your chest, bitch.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” you spoke in a low and hypnotic voice. It wasn’t your own. Your demons were speaking through you. “You’re going to shoot the symbol above the door until you run out of bullets and drop your weapon.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Brock’s forehead as he slowly raised his arm higher, the veins in his neck straining as he tried to resist the order. He had every reason to be afraid. The marking was the only reason Bucky and Steve hadn’t killed him yet. Once they were free, he’d have to answer for his sins.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“Doesn't feel good to not be in control, does it?” you replied, taking great pleasure in knowing he couldn't stop himself. “Shoot.”

You stared him down as he fired the first shot, watching him grit his teeth. Your nipples hardened as he fired again and you couldn’t help but dip a hand between your legs as power continued to move through you. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much with two dead bodies nearby, but revenge was exhilarating to say the least.

“Don’t get started without us,” Bucky called out, even as you envisioned him wrapping a hand around his cock. With a whine, you grudgingly stopped touching yourself. “I wanna taste you while he begs for his life.”

“Oh, he’ll beg,” Steve smirked, his claws scratching the wall by the door. “And we won’t listen to his prayers.”

“Shit,” Brock groaned, his arm trembling as he took his last shot.

The hall went silent as you dared to look behind you. Whatever marking that kept the demons trapped in that cell was gone now, lost in a pile of rubble and dust on the ground. “It’s time to play,” you said, urging them to come out.

The gun fell from Brock’s hand as Steve took the first step. He sighed happily when nothing prevented him from walking through, but the glow of his eyes was anything but comforting as he looked at Brock. With unnatural speed, he flew toward him as he reached for his radio. The snap of his wrist breaking was one of the best sounds you’d ever heard.

“Mmm. Break his other wrist, Stevie,” Bucky suggested as he stepped out of the room and joined you at your side. You gasped when he pulled you in front of him to grind his hips against you, his cock hard and hot against your skin. “Make him scream.”

“Fuck-” Brock screamed as Steve snapped his other wrist, his hands useless as the blonde demon grinned.

Steve brought his finger to his mouth and licked a drop of blood away. “You taste bitter,” he taunted before he lifted his head. “Another guard is on the way.”

Bucky chuckled as said man entered the hall a moment later. “All alone? That's brave and stupid.”

“Oh, my God,” he said as he surveyed the scene.

It had to be quite the sight. Blood and brain matter along the walls, the man's boss on the ground in pain, you and your demons naked and unafraid. Haunting and beautiful.

“There's no God here,” Bucky smirked as he lazily rocked his hips against you. “But feel free to pray anyway.”

“Do something!” Brock ordered through his pain.

Bucky spoke a command in his natural tongue as the guard dropped his gun. Fear radiated from him as he took a knife from his belt and turned the edge toward his throat. “I don't wanna-” he shoved the blade deep in his neck with wide eyes before he could finish his statement, gurgling as he collapsed.

“Die,” you whispered, completing his sentence.

You had to bite back a moan as Bucky turned your head to meet your lips in a filthy kiss, Steve smirking as he looked back at you two. The carnage fueled their need as much as yours. As the coppery scent of the blood continued to fill your nostrils, you justified that this was the right thing to do. The men made their beds.

They could die in them.

“Come in,” a voice on Brock's radio rang out.

“Shh. Don’t make a sound,” Steve ordered, grabbing Brock’s radio as the operative went eerily silent. His eyes bulged as the demon began to speak with his voice. “Go ahead.”

“Thought I heard commotion in the hall. Sent David in to assist. Do you need more backup? Over.”

“Negative. Subject tried to escape and we subdued her. All clear. But no one is to go in the South Wing, no matter what you see or hear. And tell all S.T.R.I.K.E. members to gather in the debriefing room and await further instructions. Over.”

“But sir-”

Steve's eyes flashed as he continued to speak like Brock. “Did I fucking stutter? Get the men there and stay the fuck out of here. That's a direct order. Over.”

“Roger that.”

Bucky chuckled when Steve crushed the radio in his hand. No alarms rang out. No soldiers ran down the hall to recapture you. There were no lockdowns. Brock knew he was fucked.

And not in the way you would be.

“You know, Rumlow. You truly are a dark soul with a penchant for pain,” the brunette began, nipping your shoulder as his hands roamed your body. “We could’ve worked out some sort of deal with you. Given you true power. But you just had to lock us up.”

Something dark surfaced from the depths of your mind as you listened. You saw yourself curled up, naked and trembling, in the corner of a cell similar to the one they kept your demons in as Brock advanced on you. “Make yourself useful or you’ll die choking on my cock,” he threatened. It was a memory you kept locked away after they captured you and shot you up with the serum. One they thought they erased for good.

The anguish was almost enough to drown yourself in.

“And you just had to hurt our girl,” Steve snarled, swiping his claws across Brock’s cheek when you whined.

“No one hurts our girl,” Bucky growled over his cry as blood sprayed from the open wounds.

You no longer felt like you were drowning as they fed you strength, allowing you to see clearly again. You always wanted someone protective by your side. Someone to fight for you. Now you had two beside you.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” you said as the blonde grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back down the hall toward you. He may have yanked a few strands out along the way. “Would you like to hear my mission report, Rumlow?”

His chest heaved a bit as he lay on the ground, trying to breath steadily through the pain. “Yes,” he lied, knowing better than to smart off again.

You arched your back when Bucky covered your breast with his hand, squeezing it gently as Steve joined you and began to play with the other. “You tossed me in their cell with the hopes they’d drain my energy, but I came out stronger. You know why? Because I gave myself to them. All of me,” you explained. A gunshot rang out before Brock screamed and grabbed his knee, the pistol you stole from the dead guard now in Steve's hand. “Their power flows through my veins and my soul belongs to them. We’re bound to each other.”

“And her energy is delicious. Just like her cunt,” Bucky smiled as he turned and shoved you into Steve’s arms. He sank to his knees and winked before he tossed your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your slit. “Hold my horns if you need to.”

“I supposed we should thank you,” Steve said, tossing the gun away. He brought a hand back to your breast, pinching your nipple as Bucky licked along your folds. You grabbed his horns and squeezed when his wicked tongue got to work. “Whatever you injected her with helped her survive what would've killed a normal human. And the more we fucked her, the more she needed us.”

“Such a greedy, pretty thing when she takes our cocks,” Bucky spoke against your pussy, the image of him fucking your throat while Steve took you from behind shimmering in your mind. You could feel them inside you, claiming you as theirs. “Didn’t even take much for her to come when we took her ass.”

Your holes clenched, desperate for them to fill you again. “You tried to turn me into a weapon,” you moaned, smiling as blood dripped from Brock’s leg. “I guess, in a way, you succeeded. Because we’re going to destroy Hydra.”

Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as you squirmed. It wasn't enough. You needed more. “Three guards down.”

Steve smiled as he kissed along your neck, his lips lingering on your pulse. “And you’re next, Rumlow.”

“No,” Brock breathed, pushing himself up with his elbow. Fire filled your eyes when he met your gaze, his face going pale under your stare. Were your eyes glowing? “I-I can still join you. I can help.”

“I don’t think you can help us,” Steve said, nodding down to Bucky. His tongue stabbed deep with a moan as he swiped his hand along Brock’s thigh, his claws tearing through the tactical pants and skin. More blood splattered as he screamed in agony. “But you can bleed.”

“Beg. I want you to beg for me to save you,” you moaned, grinding against the brunette’s face before your expression twisted with anger. “I was innocent, you piece of shit.”

Where was your innocence now? Gone. Destroyed. But you made a choice. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness by joining forces with the incubi they captured. And you didn't regret it for a second.

“Please,” Brock said above a whisper, trying in vain to cover his wounds. How much had it taken for him to say that single word? “I-I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Save me.”

You regarded Brock with an unsympathetic gaze. You could show him compassion that he never bestowed upon you and let him see that there was still good in you. But where was the fun in that? What kindness did you possibly owe him?

You glanced back at Steve as you considered it, who merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You felt Bucky smile, too. They encouraged your fury, fueled it. These demons truly were glorious. Horrifying.

And they were yours.

“You're not sorry and you know the orders were bullshit. So as far as saving you?” You asked, smiling when the realization of his doom crossed his face. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Brock's hands flew to his head as he let out a cry of anguish. It filled the hall, like a song of agony as the lights flickered. The sound almost shook you to your core, but it fed into your growing darkness. You embraced it with a smile.

“Do you know who those screams in your head belong to?” Steve asked evenly as Brock continued to yell and thrash around. “That's the suffering of every person you ever hurt. All the pain you caused.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away to glare at him. “Including our girl.”

How many bodies had Brock and his men left on their path of destruction? How many lives had they ruined? It was only fair to return the favor.

“Stop it! Make it stop!” Brock cried, slamming the back of his head against the ground with enough force to crack it. “Stop!”

You cried out when Bucky shoved two fingers inside you, his claws careful not to cut you as he thrust deep. “You're close, doll. Dripping down my fingers,” he said, the sound of your wetness blending in beautifully with the wail of pain.

“He's close, too,” Steve said in your ear as he reached down to toy with your clit, playing with the sensitive bud with a grunt. You hardly paid any attention to Brock now, even as his body twitched and blood from his skull stained the floor. He was inconsequential to you as the light began to fade from his eyes. He was nothing. “It's the end for him.”

Bucky twisted his fingers with a smirk, your pussy quivering as you were ready to fall apart. “Come while he takes his last breath. Let go. Let it all go.”

Your vision swam as you did as he commanded, your entire body throbbing with pleasure. You felt the air leave Brock's lungs as bliss flooded you, Bucky's groan obscene as he brought his mout back to lick up your essence. Steve held onto you as you lost yourself, every part of you inside and out owned by their touch.

In that moment, you were invincible.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, his mouth and chin wet from your release as he took his fingers out and lowered your shaky limb from his shoulder. “Damn. I thought he'd last a little longer. I wanted to shove his taser rod up his ass.”

“You still can,” Steve said, kissing your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. You okay?”

The praise from both of them made you preen as you looked at the surrounding carnage, slowly coming down from your high. “I'm better than okay,” you exhaled, reaching out with your foot to nudge Brock's body, relief hitting you square in the chest when he didn’t move. Your tormentor was dead. And you wouldn't shed a single tear for him. “He's gone. He's really gone.”

“He is. And we're free, thanks to you, doll,” Bucky spoke, licking his fingers clean before he stroked himself, a cool shade of blue flickering from his red eyes. “Our mate.”

I'm theirs and they're mine.

And as their mate, you had to thank them. Take care of them. Worship their hard and aching cocks the way you were made to.

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

“With pleasure,” Steve smiled, putting you on your hands and knees before he sank down behind you. He shoved his thick cock inside you with no warning, the head of it practically kissing your cervix as you screamed. “This is just the beginning. We have more lives to destroy when we’re done fucking you. For now.”

Bucky tapped his cock against your cheek affectionately before he pushed inside your eager mouth. “Alexander Pierce. Jasper Sitwell. Everyone. We'll kill them all,” he promised, snapping his hips in time with Steve as you moaned, letting them use you like a ragdoll between them. But you didn't feel used in the slightest.

You felt complete.

“You're free,” Steve grunted, bringing his palm down on your ass with a sharp slap. “We're free.”

He was right. You were finally free from the shackles Hydra tried to put on you. And you couldn't wait for the carnage the three of you would continue to spread, once you could form a coherent thought. All you wanted for now was for them to paint every hole of yours until there wasn’t a drop left.

Bucky's head fell back with an excited moan, as if he read your mind. “And we have so much time to make up for. So take our cocks and let us fill your holes before we burn this place to the ground.”

That was a mission you were more than happy to complete.

So, THAT happened and I'm not sorry. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[njstokkis]

dream

huh yunjin x gn!reader

synopsis: yunjin headcanons <3

word count: 600~

warnings: fluff; really really short oh lawd; yunjin being kind of chaotic; this is low-key self-indulgent oops; author is lonely on valentines day so they're writing this to cope; just random yunjin thoughts; not proofread at all so if there's errors I'm sorry ㅠㅠㅠ

a/n: i don't think I've mentioned but english is NAWT my first language 😭 pls go easy on me (go whattt???) also, tysm for the support on the last fic???? omg i wasn't expecting so much but i really appreciate y'all interacting, it makes my day!!! I'll try my best to write more in the future, thank you in advance for reading!!

• physical touch is a BIG thing in the relationship, this girl genuinely can't stand a second without touching you. PDA queen.

• you're working? she's plopping down on your lap or sitting next to you.

• you're going out? trust me, she's gonna be all up over you, (with discressions in case of paparazzi of course) holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, showing EVERYONE you're hers.

• you're going to the bathroom? hey, it's her again, this time she's literally holding your hand outside of the door as you do your business. she's just like a puppy. (puppy yunjin soon????????)

• she doesn't care whether if it's the smallest touches, (although she'd much rather be stuck and molded to you everyday), she just needs to feel that you're next to her. like linking your pinkies together, thigh touches, hugs, cuddles, whatever works honestly.

•this girl LOVES pet names

• yunjin's favorite to use is probably jagi (love) or baby, and you'd fawn everytime she says it. (real)

• she'd say it so casually too, like answering your calls or responding to a question etc, etc.

"hey darling, you okay?"

"oh, baby, be careful!"

"of course, my love, anything for you." (she proceeds to exaggeratedly wink and throw up finger guns, biggest dork ever)

• even before you got in a relationship, she'd still called you petnames from time to time, and you'd discreetly try to hide your face, trying to not let her know you're down bad for her as she teases you. like UGHHHHHHHHHHH. (sorry)

• remember when I said dork?

• yea so

• dorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdor-

• like she strikes me as the type to be able to talk about her interests for HOURS on end, to the point where you have to forcefully make her shut up (wink wink). jk you can't, she just starts back up again after a while.

• probably forces you to watch documentaries on jellyfish and explain the facts further so you understand better

• you pretend to hate it but come on...it's yunjin, so you just roll your eyes with a small smile and pretend to be annoyed while you listen to her rant

• oh you bet your ass you're spoiled ROTTEN when y'all go out.

• she'd give you her card and be like, "take your pick, my love."

• like GIRLIE???

• she'd take you out to dinner dates and secluded fancy restaurants, and she'd pay for every single one of them.

• literally slaps your hand away when you offer your cash or card, and gets upset cuz the AUDACITY of you to think that you had to pay when SHE'S the one taking you out??? lunacy.

• SO many inside jokes.

• like people literally look at y'all so weird, cuz wtf do you mean there's these bitches howling; doubled over even; in hysterical laughter in isle three????

• you're her muse, like need i say more.

•she loves to just whip out her notebook and start writing random lyrics when you guys hang out, or spend time together. her creativity just flows so much better with you, at least according to her.

• she'd be the type to serenade you randomly, like you just woke up and you'd just see her sitting on your bedside, guitar in hand, her phone propped up on her thigh, idly scrolling. her eyes lighting up as she notices you slowly wake, quickly getting her guitar in position.

"y-yunjin...? what are you doing..."

"but iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii caaaan't helpppp falling in loooooovvveeeeee withhhhh youuuuuuu~"

"baby, it's...7 a.m."

• overall, she's the cutest dork and you love her to death for that.

[stclaretarot]

PICK A CARD ⭒ which ancestor is reaching out to you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · the high priestess, queen of wands, king of pentacles, page of pentacles

channelled songs · stand by me by wayv. gangsta luv by snoop dogg & the-dream. i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie.

hey there group one ♡ this is a paternal ancestor, a female ancestor from your father’s side. she is slavic, scandinavian or an indigenous person in this general area of europe.

sami, kurdish, and uyghur also come to mind.

this ancestor may be your father’s grandmother, or the grandmother of a grandmother for example.

because of this, this is likely not someone you have met -- though she has watched over you since you were born. no, since earlier. since before your conception. she has prayed and willed you into existence.

GROUP TWO

cards · the lovers, the world, nine of swords, six of pentacles.

channelled songs · bodak yellow by cardi b. restraint by florence + the machine. eternal sunshine by ambré & g-eazy.

hey there group two ♡ this is someone who died for love. suddenly, i keep thinking about the movies ‘bladerunner 2049’ and ‘mulan’. in both movies we see characters who are driven by love, who go on these grand journeys and fight these battles so much bigger than them all because of love. love in whatever shape or form.

this ancestor is someone who died at war. they may have been a general, for some of you, while for others of you they were a common soldier. they were likely drafted, or had a legal or familial obligation to fulfil, and the only thing that got them through this was the love for a woman.

he would sit up at night thinking of her, looking at the picture he carried around of her, and telling himself he had to make it out to get back to her.

this ancestor is likely japanese (specifically ainu), chinese, brazilian or cuban.

GROUP THREE

cards · ten of challenges, page of cups, ten of pentacles, the fool.

channelled songs · i’m that girl by beyoncé. que me quedes tú by shakira. just the lonely talking again by whitney houston.

hey there group three ♡ this is not really an ancestor… as, ancestor -- at least to me -- denotes someone who died many, many, many years ago. decades and centuries ago. but this person who is reaching out to you is someone who died fairly recently, as this is your father.

in life, your father may have been a man overburdened by stress and worry. he aged fast and young because of the hard life he lived, and died young because of it.

he had a lot of love for you and your family, and took a lot of pride in the life he was trying to build for you, but it was harder than he ever could have ever expected.

he had never been prepared for the harsh reality of life, but he did the best he could with the hand he was given.

GROUP FOUR

cards · queen of pentacles, king of pentacles, the devil, the magician.

channelled songs · a departue - audiotree live version by la dispute. the lady in my life by michael jackson. the bomb dot come v2.0 by sleeping with sirens.

hey there group four ♡ instead of just one ancestor, this is two ancestors who are reaching out to you. a pair of ancestors. soulmates. two people who lived together and died together; who gave their all to each other until the very end.

and then even after the end, in the divine realm as your guides watching over you.

they may have been star-crossed lovers, forbidden to be together by their respective families -- or by the culture and society in which they were born and in which they had to live. and so they ran away.

for some of you, this effort to run away was futile and they decided to take their lives, together, to end this once and for all. for others of you, they were able to get away and have their happy ending.

these ancestors may be from mexico, bosnia, greece. america especially during the antebellum period also comes to mind.

[fallloverfic]

Finished the second season of Castlevania: Nocturne and loved it! Spoilers below.

Angry boi PROTEC HIS MAN!!!! Just his running to Mizrak, so worried. Even interrupted his revenge. I just love that his serpent form came back T-T And multiple times!!!

The fight scenes were so good!!! Just so many amazing ones!

ALSO WHAT DOES ADRIAN MEAN NOT THE FIRST TIME YOU SAVED MY LIFE???? I AM-!!!!

(So happy they know each other and I think it's hilarious my fic could potentially be a prequel now alkdjalkdjaljdalj)

Everyone cute. Annette and Richter were just awww. Glad Edouard and Annette get to stay together, and Edouard can go home and get his bass player :3

Also so many gorgeous Adrian bits. Truly. Him coming out of the river was so mmmm. Also loved all the magic he got to use XD And the music was fun!

Also loved all the Egyptian stuff. The soul count was a little... (I was like why are you saying just 2 or 3, there's more than that...?), but apparently the # of parts has changed over time (it's not just 4 or 5) and it's you know, vampires during the French Revolution, so sure, whatever. The trip to Duat was fun! And Ammit's form was pretty cool.

Poor Tera. Bye Emmanuel, no one misses you.

Loved that we got some dragon fighting. Also that the dragon didn't die. Was worried. Though I will say, Sekhmet punching it was kind of funny aldkjlaj I felt sort of bad when Juste, Richter, and Maria were all boosting its breath like, "That can't be too comfortable for the dragon..."

Just think it's funny we have animated Robespierre joining forces with the son of Dracula to defend Paris from a crazy Hungarian serial killer noble who believes she's the reincarnation of an ancient Egyptian goddess lol

The return of Drolta was really fun. I was sad she was in so relatively little of season 1. This was really great.

For historical things, I appreciate that they referenced how folks in France sold and bought food to watch executions. I also appreciate the reference to the trend of European obsession with eating mummies.

I will be thinking about Mizrox's future. I feel bad I'm mostly happy Olrox survived the season lol I like Mizrak just fine, and I like that Olrox likes him, but my priority is Olrox, not Mizrak, sorry lol Clearly they have some things to work out XD Should be fun (for someone, I hope). Someone else pointed out they never talked about the animal/soul stuff, and it was kind of just... Mizrak getting over it (or side-stepping it) and not apologizing to Olrox about it. And Olrox just... kind of accepting that the guy he's in love with is like this. I think it's funny that after having written You reluctant demon back in 2023, where they do have a conversation about it, I completely forgot it as a thing I wanted to happen lol Cause in my mind the matter is settled. Like the show, quite frankly, feels like neat fanfiction to me at this point (that's not what it is, but that's how my brain works, it's part of why I wasn't as anxious about season 2 releasing as I was for season 3 of the first series releasing). It's great in all the things it does, amazing stuff I never could have thought of, which is far better than a lot of the stuff I did in my fic (and those fight scenes, dang). But yeah, I do agree, they should have talked about it. And they don't. And it's... mm...

Another thing is that Mizrak maybe still has some racism to unpack. There's that line Olrox has about when his people were massacred by the Spanish, and Olrox says, "And our terrifying gods could do nothing to save us." And Mizrak replies, "Perhaps your gods were the problem," and it's like what the fuck Mizrak lol I don't know if it's part of his struggles with his own faith, which is very obviously happening, how if a god exists, they're allowing all this stuff to happen, that Emmanual failed so hard, and believing in a god - which is his issue - is causing so much of his issues (it's making him believe his affection for Olrox is false, that Olrox doesn't have a soul, and/or it's not saving him from what he believes is a wrong attraction, idk). Or, from a semi-logical standpoint, that Olrox's people were attacked because they weren't Christian, and that the Spanish wouldn't have attacked Olrox's people if they were Christian. Or simply that "well it's your fault for not being Christian", I have no idea. It's a weird moment. We have really not moved past the "animal" conversation all that much. Olrox is very, very forgiving. And I am way more forgiving because I forgot I resolved most of this in my fic over a year ago lol I don't know, relationships are messy, I enjoyed what I saw of them. Olrox running to Mizrak's side was a lot and I loved it. The way Olrox is like, "I thought you wanted to know" killed me.

ANYWAY though... it was a good season. Really, I liked it.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SIX: MAKE OUT FAKE OUT

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SUMMARY ↳ An unlikely ally appears! “I know you’re Spinnerette.” . . . What. The. Fuck. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (the non-existent) threat of blackmail wc: 4.4k

Victoria’s been acting weird. You suppose it’s normal given the events from last week. Since then, multiple articles have come forth speaking of Robin and Spinnerette saving the day. The people of Gotham seem to be taking to their new arachnid friend well.

But back to Victoria—she struggles to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. It doesn’t stop her from being a stern teacher though, so you guess nothing other than that has changed. Whatever, you have better things to worry about.

Progress has been… progressing with the badassium. You’ve begun assembling the makeshift particle accelerator, but Karen estimates that you’ve only built three percent. And it took you that long. Have mercy.

You’re currently in the Den, looking over your creation.. The walls are lined with various tools and blueprints, and the centerpiece is the skeleton of the particle accelerator. You sigh, wiping sweat off your brow. This is going to take longer than you thought.

Karen’s voice chirps in your ear. “Perhaps taking a break would help clear your mind, [Name].”

You glance at the clock. It’s already past midnight. Maybe she’s right. “Yeah, I guess so.. Let’s call it a night.”

Robin meets you on the rooftop you’ve perched yourself on. He crouches next you, watching the streets below. Robin’s eyes follow the movement below with a practiced vigilance, his dark cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. The city's nightscape is a blend of lights and shadows, with the occasional sound of sirens breaking the relative silence. He glances at you, his expression giving nothing away.

“Long day?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“You ask, why?”

You groan, stretching out your stiff muscles. Robin tracks the movement. “Surely you wouldn’t come hang out with me just because you felt like it. I doubt one night of ass-kickin’ makes us friends.”

“This is not ‘hanging out’,” he grumbles, making you nod your hand in a ‘you’re proving my point’ fashion. “I am simply taking a short recess, you happen to be in my resting spot.”

“Yeah, uhuh.” You don’t believe him for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to really care.

“Batman wants you on the team.”

You damn near fall off the rooftop. “What.”

“Perhaps you are older than I thought, if your hearing isn’t on par,” he smirks.

“First of all, my hearing is way better than yours, fuck you,” you quip, quickly righting yourself. “Second of all…” you hesitate, “can we take a raincheck on that?”

Robin looks at you. “I… am busy right now. And do not have time for a team… yeah. Also, I just prefer to be alone.” The words come out choppy, as if you’re coming up with them on the fly (you are). That last part is a straight lie, you love your Avengers.

You know Robin obviously is skeptical, but he says nothing. “Why does Batman want me, anyway?”

Robin shifts slightly, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “You share the same goals we do. It only makes sense to join forces.”

Robin's words hang in the air, punctuated by the distant sounds of the city below. You shift uncomfortably, trying to process the unexpected offer. Joining Batman's team? The idea both excites and intimidates you. You've always admired the vigilantes of Gotham from afar, but becoming a part of that world was another matter entirely.

You don’t belong here. It was different when you were asked to officially join the Avengers, but fictional comic characters turned real? Your mind wants to melt. You don’t want to drag them into your mess.

“I really do appreciate the offer, but…” you sigh, and lean back. “...not right now.” And probably never. You clear your throat and stand up, Robin following. “Well, it’s been awkward. See you!” you rush out, quickly swinging away. Robin eyes you until you swing out of sight, thinking.

“They denied.”

Bruce sips his tea, humming. “Did they say why?”

Damian comes to sit next to his father. “Their reasoning was that they were ‘too busy for a team’ and preferred to be alone. It was very obvious they were hiding something, father.”

Bruce sighs, putting down his cup. “We’ll keep trying to convince them, slowly,” Bruce adds as he sees Damian moving to get up. “Stay cautious, but also stay amiable, Damian.”

Damian scoffs. “I am amiable.”

Bruce chuckles as Damian leaves.

Ms. Varley announces a project at the end of class the next morning.. The class groans loudly, of course. “It should be fun for you young folks,” she emphasizes, like it disgusts her. “It is a partner project,” the class lights up for a second, “with your tablemate.” You swear you see a glint of satisfaction in her eye as the class slumps. You and Damian look at eachother. “Together you will explore unconventional perspectives on any known superhero or vigilante of your choosing.”

The projector shows a powerpoint labeled “Hot Takes”. A few snorts are heard. “I want you to to challenge yourselves boldly,” Ms. Varley states, walking around to pass out the rubric. “You’ll select a figure that intrigues you and craft a thesis that challenges the traditional view. Support it with thorough research and present your findings in a persuasive manner."

“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about being able to defend your point.” Ms. Varley takes her place in front of the classroom. “This is your final project. From now until winter break, we will be spending our Fridays working on it. Only Fridays, so I suggest working on it with your partner outside of school.”

She sits down in her chair, signaling that she’s done talking for today. Buzz fills the classroom immediately, peers chattering and making plans. You scoot your chair closer to Damian. “I know what I want to do,” you declare.

“As do I,” says Damian, facing you.

“My take is better,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Damian scoffs. “I sincerely doubt you are capable of coming up with something adequate to the challenge.”

“Don’t be a hater Damian, it makes you look jealous,” you tease.. The bell rings, filling the class with sounds of hustle and bustle as students pack up. “Oh! Before you go,” you say, grabbing Damian’s wrist. You hold out your phone. “Number?”

Damian looks at your phone in confusion. You huff. “Your phone number, Dames. So we can contact each other and plan our project?” you clarify in a ‘duh’ tone.

You watch as he stares for a moment, before taking your phone and putting in his contact info. “You will come home to the manor with me,” he declares.

You blink. “Huh?”

“We will start working on it today,” he elaborates, handing you back your phone. You fumble with it for a second before shoving it in your pocket. “The faster we get it done the better.”

“Um, ok. Yeah, makes sense,” you gulp.

This time you’re the one distracted in ballet. Victoria huffs and snaps at you multiple times, so you figure she must be back to normal. Art class proceeds as norma, Ms. M making you practice your color theory. You hold back on designing new iterations of your suit, something you did a lot of back home out of sheer boredom.

Damian guides you out of the school with a hand on your back, like he did at homecoming. You wonder what exactly he is doing, since you know he feels the eyes and points at the two of you from other students. You sigh, hopefully nobody bothers you about it.

Alfred greets you at the gates, this time you make sure to actually get his name officially. Damian gets in the car first, pulling you in by the hand. Your shoulder bumps into his as you land with an ‘oof’. The ride to the manor is silent, leaving you twiddling with your thumbs. Thankfully, the ride isn’t too long.

The manor looks imposing, standing here looking at it. It’s different from seeing it from WEBBERs point of view or from an inked page. Damian grabs your arm, snapping you out of your daydreaming. He leads you through the grand halls of the mansion, his steps confident and purposeful. The interior is as opulent as you imagined, with rich furnishings and tasteful decor that speak of wealth and history.

"Your family's home is... impressive," you remark, trying to break the silence as you’re dragged along.

Damian nods curtly, saying nothing. You sense there's more to his demeanor than just his usual aloofness.

He leads you to a spacious study lined with shelves of books and a large, fancy desk at its center. Papers are neatly organized, and a computer hums softly in one corner. Damian gestures for you to take a seat. You do, placing your bag down beside your chair. Damian sits next to you.

You take out your laptop and open a new powerpoint. “My idea was that we do it on Batman,” you state, turning to Damian. “I think Batman is part of a cycle of violence. I think that he does help and protect people, but he also enables a lot of the behavior from criminals.” You stand up and begin to pace the room.

“He inadvertently contributes to a culture that normalizes violence as a means to solve problems. I mean, all of his criminals eventually break out of arkham. Scarecrow literally attacked our school a while ago! Criminals respond to Batman’s intervention with heightened aggression and increasingly dangerous tactics, which results in a cycle where each side justifies escalating their actions in response to perceived threats.”

You pause, stopping your pacing. Damian is staring at you. You cough. “That’s all to say, violence begets violence, hurt people hurt people, yadda yadda,” you grin sheepishly.

Damian nods intently. He leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice calm yet decisive.

"Your perspective is not entirely without merit," Damian begins, his tone measured. "Batman's methods have indeed perpetuated a cycle of violence in Gotham. His reliance on fear tactics and physical force against criminals often leads to heightened retaliation and more extreme measures from his adversaries."

He shifts in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly. "However," Damian continues, "one must consider the broader context. Gotham City is a cesspool of corruption and crime, where conventional methods of law enforcement have repeatedly failed. Batman's presence, while controversial, fills a void where the justice system falls short."

Damian stands up abruptly, pacing the room with a controlled energy. "His actions, while extreme, have prevented countless tragedies and protected innocent lives. The criminals he faces are not ordinary. They are deranged, relentless, and would wreak havoc unchecked if not for his intervention."

He stops in front of the window, gazing out at the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. "Batman's commitment to justice is unwavering. He sacrifices his own safety and personal life to ensure that Gotham's citizens have a fighting chance against the darkness that plagues our city."

Damian turns back to you, his demeanor earnest. "Our challenge will be to present a balanced argument," he concludes, returning to his seat. "Acknowledging the complexities of Batman's methods while critiquing their consequences. We must delve deep into both sides of the debate to craft a compelling thesis."

You nod, absorbing Damian's perspective. You’re impressed, but yeesh. He could’ve been more subtle, in your humble opinion.

“I’m impressed,” comes a voice from the doorway. You and Damian turn around to see–

Bruce Wayne. You sigh deeply inside your mind.

“Father,” says Damian, looking a bit lost. “How long…?”

“Since your friend started speaking. I apologize, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I only meant to introduce myself when I heard your compelling argument, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, looking awfully apologetic. Of course, Batman himself heard all that.

He turns to you and sticks out his hand. “Bruce Wayne, Damian’s father.” You shake his hand humming in affirmation.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you smile. Alfred comes in with some snacks and refreshments, placing them down on the table. You and Damian thank him, seemingly on autopilot. Bruce smiles at Damian.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and then he’s out the door.

You rub your palms on your pants. “Welp,” you hum, sitting back down and pouring yourself a cup of tea. “I think he likes me.” You pour a cup for Damian and pass it to him. He sits back down as well, accepting the cup.

“I think he does, as well,” mutters Damian, sipping his tea.

The rest of the evening is spent refining your argument and laying out the skeleton on your powerpoint. Despite Damian's initial reservation about your abilities, you find that you complement each other well in terms of ideas and research methods. You check the time, it’s a little past nine.

“I should get going, I don’t wanna leave Nari alone for too long,” you say, beginning to gather your belongings. Damian raises a brow. “My cat,” you clarify.

Damian's eyes brighten very subtly. You know what he’s thinking, so you show him the picture you took of Jon holding Nari. “He’s cute, right?”

Damian analyzes your picture like it’s an art. He nods in approval. “You shall have to bring him over to meet Alfred.”

“The.. butler?” you question, as if you don’t know better.

“The cat.”

Damian walks you out of the manor where you find Bruce. His eyes spot you two approaching and nods in acknowledgement. “Alfred is already waiting outside for you,” he tells you. You nod and step outside, feeling the cool air hit you. You thank Alfred as he opens the door for you, stepping inside. Damian and Bruce are standing together on the porch. Bruce is telling Damian something, but he is only looking at you.

You send him a hesitant smile, and he nods at you.

Bruce watches the car drive off. “Still suspicious?” he asks.

“Nothing of note has happened,” Damian begrudgingly tells him. Bruce warmly chuckles.

“Well,” he starts, looking at Damian. “I like them.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “I do not like what you are insinuating.” Bruce shrugs innocently, stepping back inside the manor. Damian stands in the cool air for a moment, before following him inside. 

The dance instructor has a headache, so she says that you all can do whatever you’d like, as long as you don’t bother her. You sit against the far wall, laptop on your legs. You’ll use the time to finish the assignments you’ve been procrastinating on.

Victoria surprises you by sitting next to you. She surprises everyone else to, if their wide eyes are anything to go by. They quickly look away at her glare. “Hey, Vicky,” you mumble, unbothered.

She pretends to look interested in what you’re typing. Her eyes watch your fingers as they rapidly move across the keys. She clears her throat.

“I would like to practice some more after school. I expect you to be there,” she says primly.

You raise a brow, still looking at your screen. “There’s no practice today.”

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “I wouldn’t be asking you if there was. I just think… it would be beneficial to us.”

You look at her. She’s crossed her arms and is looking down at her lap. You exhale and nod. “Yeah, okay.” You didn’t have anything planned after school anyway. Victoria nods, sitting beside you for the rest of the period.

Damian suggests that you come over again to work more on the presentation, but you have to deny. “I have a ‘special’ practice session with Vicky,” you wink.

Damian ignores your innuendo in favor of furrowing his brows. “You don’t have practice today.”

“First of all, what do you know?” you huff, putting your pencils away. “Second of all, you’re right. However, Vicky has ordered extra practice. Just the two of us.”

Damian grips his bag a little bit tighter. You wave goodbye as you leave the classroom, heading to the dance studio. Victoria’s waiting for you, still in her uniform. You place your bag down, suddenly tense. Victoria crosses over to you, grabbing your hand. “Shut the door,” she demands.

You obey, curious. “Something wrong?”

She fidgets with your web-shooter-turned-bracelet, like she’s looking for something. You’re not worried, the form it’s in right now gives nothing away, but you are really confused right now.

“Vicky?” you implore, trying to catch her eye.

“I…” she hesitates, before straightening her shoulders. “I know who you are.”

You furrow your brow. “What exactly does that mean–”

“I know you’re Spinnerette.”

.

.

.

What. The. Fuck.

You blink, because that’s all you can do. “What?”

“Don’t try to deny it. There’s no use,” she crosses her arms.

“Vicky, this is crazy. I’m not Spinnerette! Was it the Scarecrow attack? Are you still scared? Maybe you should see someone–”

“Spinnerette called my Vicky!” she snarls, pointing a finger at your chest. “No one calls me that but you.”

Your tongue pokes your cheek, stepping back. You never would’ve thought Vicky would be the first to figure you out. Though you suppose you haven’t been as careful as you thought. Fuck, how could you be so careless? Do you still try to deny it? Surely it won’t be that hard, but clearly Vicky is smarter than you think.

“Perhaps she could be a formidable ally,” suggests Karen. “She may have access to resources we need.”

You straighten at Karen’s voice. She’s right, of course. Victoria’s loaded. She can throw money at people to get you the materials you need. Expensive, high quality material. There’s just convincing her…

And maybe… it’ll be nice to have someone else know in this universe.

You sigh and hold out your arms. “Fine, you got me. I’m Spinnerette.”

Victoria smirks victoriously. “Show me.”

“Show you…?” you mutter.

“Show me some proof.”

You blink at the audacity. She was just accusing you of being Spinner, and when you admit that you are, she tells you to ‘prove it’ to her!? You sigh, tired of it all.

You walk to the wall of the room, placing your foot on it and climbing up. It’s a comical sight, the way your body completely changes rotation effortlessly. You walk along the ceiling, moving back to Victoria. Jumping down, you purse your lips and spread your hands. “Happy?”

Victoria’s got a glint in her eye that makes you nervous. She nods, and you set your hands on your waist.

“Okay listen, you know now, there’s no going back from here. If you tell anybody–” you begin, voice taking on a threatening tone.

“–I want to help you!” she blurts.

You blink. “Pardon?”

“Let me help you do your… saving people thing!” she says, waving her hand around. She steps closer to you, eyes shining. Huh. Well, you were going to threaten her and her parents' credibility as members of society. Rich people always have some skeletons in their closets, and you sure as shit are capable of finding them. This is a surprising turn of events.

Still, you scoff. “This is insane–”

“I can be your sponsor! Like whoever makes all of Batman's stuff!”

“I would’ve never expected this from you—why do you want to help me?” you ask incredulously.

“Nothing I do satisfies my parents!” she growls. Oh dear, backstory time. “They literally left me the company to inherit, but doubt my ability to run it. I pay attention, I get good grades and I do everything they say, but they still doubt me. I even try to get with stupid Damian Wayne.” She throws her hands up. “I don’t even like him!”

“I know I can’t tell them you’re Spinnerette, but if I can successfully help you do what you do…” she curls her hands together. “Then at least I would know that I’m good at something.”

You’re left speechless. It’s like you’re listening to a brand new person. You place your hands on her shoulders. “You already are good at something, dance!” You gesture to the room. “You work harder than anyone else here!”

“Dance isn’t my future,” she scowls.

You purse your lips. You have no idea how she feels. The adults in your life have always let you be yourself. Even if they didn’t you’ve always had the backbone to tell people to step off and let you do your own thing. Rich people like Victoria’s parents can get pretty extreme. You wouldn’t be surprised if they disowned her for not wanting to inherit the company.

You sigh, running a hand down your face. “Okay,” you mutter. Victoria stiffens in anticipation. “You can help.” You’ve been evaluating her this whole interaction. She’s a sheltered rich kid looking for adventure and on a weird journey of self discovery. She isn’t looking to rat you out (she kind of needs you, anyway).

She squeals and claps her hands, before clearing her throat and composing herself. “I look forward to our partnership.”

Arms crossed, you grumble out, “uhuh.”

“How do they work, anyway?” she says, grabbing your wrists, pressing around your bracelet.

“Uh, it won’t work in the state that it’s in–” a web shoots out of it, sticking to Victoria’s blazer. You guffaw. “Karen!” you gasp, knowing in the web-shooters’ bracelet form it wouldn’t shoot unless she made it.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asks cheekily. Traitor. God, she’s been waiting for someone else to talk to, hasn’t she?

 Victoria looks mystified by the web actively attached to her. “Who’s Karen? she asks as she tries to grab the web.

“Do not–!” you grab her hand. “–touch it.”

“Why? Oh, right. It’s sticky, huh?”

“Yes, Vicky. The spider webs are sticky–” the door to the dance room opens, and you stiffen. Shit, the web–

Victoria closes the distance between you two, jumping on you and wrapping her legs around your waist. You instinctively hold her thighs to support her, looking at her in alarmed confusion.

“What–” she silences you by pressing her lips against yours. All coherent thought goes out the window, because literally what is your life?

Her hands wind around your head, and her lips caress yours with a soft yet firm pressure. Your heart races, pounding in your chest as you instinctively tighten your grip around her legs, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body against yours and the taste of her lips make everything else fade away.

After what feels like an eternity, she slowly pulls back, leaving your lips tingling. She gazes at you with a mix of mischief and satisfaction, running a hand through her hair to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. You stare at her in awe, your breath coming in short gasps. She's got balls of steel, no doubt about it. You just gained a whole new level of respect for her.

She looks to the side. “Oh, hi Damian.”

Oh god. You look to the entrance of the room and sure enough, Damian’s there. He’s looking at the two of you with wide eyes, unable to school his expression. He’s stopped dead in his tracks with your phone in his hand.

Wait… your phone!

You shift so Victoria’s back is facing him. You balance her with one hand, reaching between you two to get rid of the web that’s squished between you. You do it quickly, balling it up in your hand and setting down Victoria on the floor and heading over to Damian.

“Thanks, I didn’t even notice I left it,” you smile casually, internally screaming.

Damian says nothing as you take your phone from him, stuffing it in your pocket. You place your hands on his chest and guide him out. “Okay. Bye now. Talk to you later!” He seems to finally realize what’s happening, brows furrowing and looking at you before you close the door in his face. You lean against it, listening. There’s no sound for a bit, before you hear Damian walk away. You sigh.

“Holy shit, Vicky. What the hell?” You can’t help but laugh. You throw the balled up web in the trash, making your way over to her. She’s got a cheeky smile on her face, hands behind her back.

“It’s like I don’t know you anymore,” you tease. She’s looking at you.

“I like you,” she says, making you freeze for probably the tenth time this afternoon. When will it end?

“I have feelings for you,” she elaborates, pacing. “I know that you don’t feel the same. I just…” she stops, turning to face you. Her eyes peer earnestly into yours. It crushes your heart. “...I know your secret. Now, you know mine.”

You whisper, painstakingly soft, “oh, Tori…”

She sniffs, swatting your shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not in love with you or anything.”

Still, you feel like the worst human being ever. It’s not your fault you don’t have feelings for her, you know that. And yet… you’re probably the first person she’s ever shown this side of her to. Dare you say, her first real friend.

You pull her into your arms. “I’m so sorry.”

She melts into your arms, gripping you tightly. Her light sniffles fill the room.”I’ll get over it,” she promises. You only hold her tighter. After what feels like an eternity, she withdraws from you, wiping her tears.

“Okay, some ground rules,” you say, hopefully providing a much needed topic change

“Number one, you can’t tell anyone.”

She nods. “Obviously.”

“Number two, I call the shots. If I say do something, do it. I know better, it’s for the best.”

“Number three, this changes nothing. We can act like friends if you want, but if your grades start dropping or people start noticing you acting strange, we’re done. Got it?”

“Got it,” she agrees. You heave out a sigh. “Go home, Tori.” You web over her bag and hand it to her. She goes sparkly-eyed again.

“Will you patrol?” she can’t help but ask.

“I think I deserve the night off. The Bats can handle it.” You grab your stuff and turn towards the door. “I’m gonna take a long nap when I get home.”

“Let me take you home then!” she blurts.

“Jesus, do all you rich kids have chauffeurs?” you ask. She shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I just wanna lay down and not wake up for three years.”

Victoria bids you goodbye as you make you enter your apartment. You drop your bag, groaning at your stiff shoulders. You sag your way over to your bed, flopping face first into it. You knock out almost immediately, letting the stress of the day leave you. Spideys never have it easy, do they?

notes: y'all i've had that tori scene in mind since i first made her LMAO

[companionjones]

Run Away

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Damon comes to you, his new partner, after Katherine forces a kiss on him. He has an idea.

Warnings: None that I can think of

*******

Walking into your bedroom that night, you found Damon sitting at the foot of your bed, hanging his head low.

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence now that we're together? You appearing, unannounced, in my bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"Oh, I was doing this well before our kiss last night. You know it and you love it." His words were snarky, but his tone was distant, sad even.

Your brow furrowed when you heard him speak. You rushed to sit next to him. "Damon? Are you okay?"

He explained, "Katherine dropped by the boarding house. We kissed. She forced herself on me. I'm sorry."

Despite his blasé tone, you were alarmed. "She forced herself on you? She didn't--" you started, terrified.

Damon cut you off. "No. It didn't get that far. I promise. Come here." He put an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close.

"I'm so sorry you're caught up in this," you apologized, "I'm so sorry she's got you wrapped up in her little web."

"Run away with me."

"What?" You pulled back to look at him.

Damon repeated himself. "Run away with me." He stood. "I don't want to be here anymore. Not with her in town. I want to be with you without living under the threat of her everyday. In fact, I want to be with you without living under any threat. I just want to be with you."

"But running away, Damon?" You stood.

He nodded. "I'm serious. Let Stefan deal with Elena's look-alike. Katherine always preferred him anyway. Come on, we could leave tonight. I bet it'll be days 'til anyone notices we're gone."

"But Damon, would that be what's right?"

"Screw what's right. I'm talking about what's right for us. I hate the thought of you all wrapped up in my past like this, and it would kill me if Katherine did something to you. So, let's leave." He took your hands and placed them on his chest.

You stared at them in front of you, then your answer came to you. "You're driving, right?"

*******

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 63

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,370ish

Summary: Logan spends more time with you, coming to a realization of exactly where his feelings lie.

Notes: So much fluff it's ridiculous! Please share reactions! 

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“I need a TemPad!” Wade shouted, running into B-15’s office.

“Did you find something?” She asked.

“I might have. So hand it over.”

“Not a chance, Wilson. I’m coming with you for supervision.”

“What if I pinky promise that I won’t do anything too ridiculous?”

“Still no. Tell me where we are going.”

“Fine, but I get to make a grand entrance.”

~~~

Logan didn’t care that he was practically pushing everyone out of the way as he headed to the bar you worked at. He had been on edge all day. It had been a while since he had a nightmare, and last night he had one about you. He had been itching to see you since he woke, but had tried to ignore it, not wanting to concern you. But Logan’s need to see you only grew, until now he was practically running down the street.

Pausing outside the bar, Logan tried his best to calm his racing heart before entering. His eyes found you behind the bar as soon as he stepped in and he immediately felt better. You were safe. You were alive. And now you were looking at him with that smile that he swore would make him melt one day.

“Hey, Lo,” you greeted as he came up to the bar, sliding into the stool in front of you. “You’re here early.”

“Well, yeah, I… uh, I was bored,” he nervously told you.

“Oh, so am I show? Something to entertain you?”

“Fuck, that’s not—“

“I’m joking, Lo,” you laughed, reaching a hand out and resting it on one of his. “I’m actually glad you’re here. It’s been a slow day.”

Logan nodded, glancing around and finally noticing it was just the two of you. “Anythin’ I can help you with?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. Just sit and relax. Besides, you look like you could use a drink.” Logan’s eyes widened, how did you know? You could tell you caught him by surprise. You sighed as you reached for a whiskey bottle and a glass. “You’ve got the same look in your eye that my husband had after a nightmare… you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

You poured the whiskey and pushed him the glass. “You can tell me, you know? I’m not scared of whatever your mind tricked you into seeing.” Logan’s focus fell to the glass of whiskey as he held it in his hand. “But I’m also not going to force you into telling me if you don’t want to. Just know I’m here.”

Logan nodded. “Can I… can I tell you later?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

~~~

A few customers came in before close, but not enough to pull you away from Logan for too long. He stayed at his spot at the bar until it was time to lock up and he got to work. The two of you worked to close up the bar in comfortable silence, stilling glances at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

The silence continued as the two of you began to walk home. You kept eyeing Logan, easily seeing how tense he was in his posture and that his mind wasn’t fully here.

“You died,” it slipped out of his mouth so quietly, you almost missed it. “I dreamed that you died.”

You nodded, taking it in. It wasn’t a new concept, that a Logan was dreaming of you dying, but it had never felt like it could be true until your powers started acting up more.

“Cassandra killed you,” Logan continued. “She killed you before…”

“Before what, Lo?”

“Before… Before I ever got to know you.” That admission caught you off guard, a quiet gasp leaving your lips. “I know it sounds ridiculous and I’m probably overthinking—“

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s not ridiculous at all… I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It made me realize that I really need you—your friendship.”

“I need your friendship, too.”

“And I need to be honest with you.”

“Okay…?”

“Wade’s not on some random mission. He went to the TVA to figure out how to save you.”

You stopped walking. “What?”

Logan quickly stood in front of you. “He didn’t want you or Laura to know. He didn’t want to get your hopes up. None of us can bear the thought of losing you… I can’t handle the thought…”

“Logan… The only person who has a chance of saving me, I can’t go to. Charles is the only way and I can’t cross my own timeline more than I already have.”

“Wade can find something—a different Charles. He will find something.”

“Seems like Wade wasn’t worried enough about your hopes, Lo.”

“Doll—“

“Enough, Logan… Enough, please… Whatever happens, will happen, and we will all have to live with it.” You stepped to the side and began walking again. 

Logan was quick to get to your side. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Logan… I know that my powers are killing me. I feel it… Today, in the bar, a breeze came in and I shivered. I don’t get cold… and yet I did, which only means that it’s happening faster than any of us realize.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Are you cold right now? Here.” He pulled his jacket off and stepped in front of you, forcing you to stop. He placed his jacket around you. “Is that okay?”

“I’m fine right now, but thank you, Lo.”

“You have to tell me when things are happening, darlin’. Shield Laura if you must, but please don’t shield me… Let me fight with you.”

There was no way you could say no by the way he was looking at you. “Okay,” you whispered.

“Come on,” he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him slightly. “Let’s get you home.”

~~~

When you walked into your apartment, Laura was working on her laptop at the table. She looked up at you closed the door.

“Is that Logan’s jacket?” She quickly noticed.

“Oh,” you looked down, forgetting that you were wrapped up in it. “It is. Guess I forgot I had it on.”

She rose a brow at you. “You… forgot?”

“Yeah. It happens.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

Laura could see your growing feelings for Logan like it was a simple children’s book, though you were clearly oblivious. Logan was a good man and obviously willing to treat you both right. She would accept it if you chose to spend the rest of your life with this Logan. And while she waited for you to get up the courage to act, Laura would just have to have a little fun herself. Oh, how she wished Wade was here to join in.

~~~

“Hey, kid,” Logan greeted Laura the next evening as he entered the apartment.

“Hey, Logan,” she replied.

“Where’s your mom?”

“Oh, what? No ‘how are you, Laura? How’s work going? Is there anything I can do for you?’”

“Uh… sorry? How was work?”

“It’s going great, thanks for asking. And, to answer your question, mom’s—“

“I’m right here,” you answered, coming down the hall. “You here for dinner, Lo?”

“Lo?” Laura repeated quietly to herself.

“If that’s alright,” Logan replied to you.

“As long as you’re willing to help,” you smiled.

“Put me to work, darlin’.”

Laura watched the interaction from the couch, wondering how the two were so oblivious to each other’s feelings. You and Logan got to work in the kitchen. It was easy working with him next to you. You kept glancing his way, finding him really distracting right now which wasn’t good as you were using a knife. You let out a little sound of pain as you sliced into your finger. Logan immediately stopped what he was doing to look over at you.

“Shit,” he muttered as he saw your finger bleeding. He grabbed your finger, putting pressure on it and his free arm went around you and lifted you up.

“What’s going on?” Laura asked as Logan headed for the bathroom with you.

“Logan’s overreacting,” you stated.

“Your mom cut her finger,” Logan retorted. “Watch the food, will ya?”

“On it,” Laura said, heading to the kitchen.

Logan gently kicked the bathroom door open and set you on the closed toilet. He quickly pulled out the first aid kit.

“It’s really not bad, Lo,” you tried to tell him, though you could feel the throbbing pain and the blood coming out of the slice.

Logan scoffed as he knelt down in front of you and began to clean your wound. “You may need stitches, doll.”

“There’s some in the kit, could you just do it?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“That’s fine.”

“Okay.” Logan quickly grabbed the needle and thread. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

Logan began stitching up your finger. You inhaled sharply at the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut and you bit your bottom lip.

“You’re doing great, darlin’,” he whispered. 

“Hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know, I know.”

You leaned forward and rested your head on Logan’s shoulder. He tried not to think too much about the contact you were making with him. Eventually, the stitches were tied off and Logan had wrapped up your finger. Before he even thought about it, he pressed a kiss to your finger. Your heart fluttered at the contact.

“Okay, doll,” he said softly, “all done.”

“Thanks, Lo,” you said as you pulled away. 

You looked down at your injured finger and slowly made your way up your arms. There were so many scars. You used to heal better than this, even if your skin still scarred. Logan moved his head to meet your gaze. He could see that you were getting in your head.

“Hey,” he gently called. His hand came up to your chin and forced you to look at him. “What’s going on?”

“It’s stupid…” you whispered.

“Doubt it.”

“I just miss when I used to heal better… when I didn’t have to get stitched up and I didn’t burn myself with my powers.”

Logan knew that nothing he could say could make it better, but he wanted to do something. He carefully wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him for a hug. You hugged him back, burying your face in his neck. 

You were surprised how okay you were with Logan not saying anything. Nothing anyone could say would make it any better anyway. This hug was enough. Logan was enough.

“Thank you, Lo,” you whispered, eventually pulling away.

He gave you a small smile as he pulled away. “Anytime, doll.”

~~~

Laura ended up finishing up getting dinner ready while you and Logan were in the bathroom. The three of you sat around the dinner table, talking and laughing. After dinner was cleaned up, the three of you started a game. Logan noticed quickly that you and Laura were competitive against each other. The two of you teased and taunted each other, laughing and smiling. It made Logan so happy to see the both of you in your element like that. He was so lucky to be a part of your lives, to see you for the wonderful mother you were and the amazing young woman you raised.

“Kiddo, you got to start trying,” you taunted. “This old lady is whipping your butt.”

“Oh, I’m just going easy on you, mom!” Laura teased. “I did win the last two times we had a game night.”

You scoffed. “You cheated!”

Logan smiled as he watched the two of you. As soon as a game had been mentioned, he had been planning to sabotage himself to see you win but he clearly didn’t have to.

After loosing to you for a few rounds, Laura finally conceded to go to bed. She kissed your head before wishing you and Logan a goodnight and disappearing to her room. 

“You tired too, old man? Or are you still up for a few more rounds?” You challenged, a teasing smile and twinkle in your eye that Logan couldn’t say no to.

“Let’s see what you got left in you, darlin’,” Logan responded, his own teasing look on his face.

The two of you continued playing round after round, well into the night. The two of you lost all track of time as you playfully bantered and laughed together. Eventually, you had agreed that the current round was the last round as the two of you were tied on who had won the most rounds. 

“Wohoo!” You shouted after the last play. “I won!”

Logan chuckled. “You cheated, doll.”

You gasped dramatically, hand to your chest. “I would never.” 

Truth be told, Logan cheated to lose on purpose to see you this happy but you didn’t need to know that. Tension slowly filled the air as your laughter dies down and the two of you clean up.

“Thanks for everything tonight, Lo,” you said. 

“Thank you for hosting,” he responded. “Maybe one day Althea will be sober enough for us to host.”

“You know I don’t mind her at all. I think she’s awesome.”

“Yeah, well, then next time I host game night.”

“You got it.” You walked him to the door. “Oh! I almost forgot. Wait here.” You rushed off down the hall only to reappear seconds later with Logan’s jacket. “Here. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” He took the jacket, immediately noting that it already smelled more like you than it did him. “Well, have a goodnight.”

You reached out and squeezed his bicep. “Goodnight, Lo. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I’ll see you after work.”

Logan stepped out of the apartment and you closed the door behind him. You sighed as you leaned against the door. You were totally screwed if things kept going this way. You were for sure going to fall for Logan.

Unbeknownst to you, Logan was still standing on the other side of the door, having similar thoughts except the difference was he knew he loved you. It was like something completely clicked into place inside of him tonight. Logan was in love with you completely and wholeheartedly and would stand by your side no matter what came your way.

next chapter >

[elsecrytt]

do you have any daddy suguru thoughts to spare....

(this is me indoctrinating you into the dilf fuckers cult <3)

tw: aphrodisiacs, yandere!geto, kink shaming (sexy?), humiliation, daddy kink, captivity, public-ish sex.

disclaimer... i'm not an old man fucker, geto just happened to adopt two children and became a teen father. but i can admit that that makes him more attractive, not less,

but yes. suguru is SO. paternal coded. almost maternal, as your omega!suguru thoughts have expressed. he is the type who absolutely believes he knows what's best for you and that confidence empowers him to do whatever he wants.

consider the humble daddy kink. it is exceptionally popular, and it's also considered "cringe" by many (as many kinks stereotypically associated with women are).

i don't think suguru has a particular interest in being called daddy. however. if you had a daddy kink, or more specifically, if you found it humiliating...

well. suguru does have an interest in that.

he would love getting you to call him daddy. during sex or outside of it, doesn't matter.

usually, to suguru, the magic word is "please" - he loves when you beg - but now there's a new magic word, and it's "daddy".

you don't feel like sitting on his lap for dinner today? "what's that, my sweet girl?" "hmm? what did you call me?" "well, if you can't ask correctly, then you take the seat your daddy gives you."

(he says the word with 0 shame in front of all his inner circle if they're present. suguru isn't ashamed of anything he does with you, ever.)

the absolute euphoric surge he gets when you grind out, "please, let me sit in my own chair, daddy."

watching you debase yourself for him is the ultimate high. he's walking on air the whole rest of the night, and you don't have to do anything but sit pretty and stew in your humiliation.

it's hotter to him, even if you're not into it. he would get this sick pleasure out of forcing you into dd/lg aesthetics, and it doesn't hurt that a lot of that goes along with what he wants to do with you, anyways.

all sorts of protective coddling, of unbelievable condescension. you are helpless and he takes great pleasure in showing you that.

you need him, and he loves to watch you struggle.

come now, you really didn't think daddy would let you leave the safety of your home, would you? sweetheart, he works so hard to make it comfortable and safe for you in here.

his curses are always watching, ready to drag you back in after an instant, it's really not a fair contest. he doesn't need to be fair. he needs to be right.

and what's right for you is whatever he says it is.

naughty girl needs a time out, doesn't she? if you don't appreciate what daddy gives you, maybe he can just lock you outside for the night, in the cold, until you're finally honest enough to beg daddy to let you back in.

baby girl, you know you're not supposed to touch yourself. that's daddy's pussy, he says when it can get attention, he says when it can cum.

he could tie your hands behind your back, but what's the fun in that? your wrists would get sore, and daddy can't have that, can he?

no. instead he feeds you something - maybe his curses produce it, maybe not - but he feeds you to it with every drink, every meal, to keep daddy's pussy all wet and ready for him, all the time.

and then he takes you out, like you keep asking him to. out in town, out to restaurants and corner shops. out to his congregations, in his business meetings.

he takes you everywhere, doesn't give you a single opportunity to be alone, to touch yourself.

no. instead he tsks and swats your hands away when you get antsy and shift in his lap. smiles his awful, terrible smile and hushes you when you whimper out daddy, please help me.

oh, you want help, baby girl? daddy's busy right now, you know that. you asked to come outside like this, and what did he do? he brought you. you're a big girl, aren't you? don't throw a fit now.

and isn't that so easy for him to say, balancing you on his lap, an arm wrapped around your tightening, hot core, legs squeezing together for any amount of friction.

he's probably hard underneath those robes but he won't let you grind against him, won't let you change your position at all. it's completely intentional and you know it.

there's another complain, another hiss, maybe, and his hand tightens on you before he tells you what he wants, but not in so many words.

well, daddy always take care of you, doesn't he? don't you agree? even when it's difficult, even when you huff and fuss that you don't want him to, he always gives you what you need, now, doesn't he?

and you hate it, you really hate it, but you've been dripping and aching and your cunt is throbbing at this point, it's all you can think about.

(and deep down, you know, you hate that you know, once geto decides to fuck you it's going to feel so, so good and you want that so bad right now.)

so when you finally do break down and admit it, tell him everything he wants to hear, how right he is and how you want it please please please -

well, you can't say you're disappointed. deep down, you knew geto couldn't resist an opportunity to make you demean yourself.

what's wrong, he coos as he slots you over his thigh. your one saving grace is that you're facing him now, your flushed face visible only to him, and not the others in this meeting.

it's only because these are people he doesn't respect - people he'll kill before the hour is over, probably - that he even allows you this much, the chance to grind yourself to an orgasm on his leg.

oh come now, darling, don't make that face. daddy's providing, isn't he? and if you're a good girl, he'll give you a treat when you're back home, how's that?

you try not to think it, as you hump and cling to him, biting your lip, tears of shame that you're sure geto wishes he could lick up.

you try not to think it, shoving the thought down, the product of your over-aroused, drugged-out brain, but it still comes to mind -

you can't wait to get back.

[futchrina]

1. Where's the doctor???

"So as I was saying , Ralph Lauren really got some great polos. You see the one I am wearing right now, it's Ralph Lauren as well. Don't take me for a blowhard but this one is custom made and.....". Karina forced a smile towards the man sat in front of her going on about some polos she was least interested in.

"So is it all a lie?" , she thought bitterly. Those love stories they show in dramas, those forever lasting love dramas she has seen since she was a child. She had dreamt for a lot of things. A successful career in the kpop industry, a loving and supportive family and some friends to whom she can share whatever she wants.

But among those dreams, there was also one where she yearned for a loving partner. Someone with whom she would share all her childhood shenanigans, her secrets, her fears, her tears, her happiness and everything she owns. Someone with whom she would grow old.

"Karina, are you listening?", the man said.

"Yeah, sorry I zoned out. What were you saying?" , she apologized.

"I was saying since the date went so well, would you like to continue our conversation in my apartment? " . Karina internally cringed and felt disgusted by the man's audacity. She wanted to slap the smirk out of his annoying face but she had a reputation to maintain.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we are a good match. Thank you for the dinner but I need to leave now. "

Karina left the restaurant irrespective of the man's requests for another date and dialed her manager's contact asking him to pick her up.

"I guess it really is all a lie"

"Move!!!!!!! "

Karina looked towards the direction from where the sound came. Her eyes widened in horror when saw a bike coming towards her speedily.

"the area is still very sensitive as the wound hasn't healed completely. So I would suggest a complete bed rest for 2-3 months. A visit after a month would also be appreciated so that I can monitor the healing process." Y/N said to the woman accompanied by her what she assumed to her husband. The couple nodded their heads in acceptance and thanked their way out. The doctor batted her eyes at the couple sharing a loving kiss in relief and huffed internally. She felt disgusted. It wasn't like she hated them or had anything against them. She just hated the fact that there were people who still believed in love.

Her family and friends did everything they could to make her think otherwise. That love really existed. But she was at last a doctor. Someone who believed in practicality rather than on something which existed only in fairy tales and some k-dramas which cringed her to no limits. Her belief only strengthened last year when her parents got divorced. Her parents who were together since their college days and were deeply in love with each other.

"It was never real and it will never be. They who still believe will realise it soon."

The young doctor was deep in thoughts when she heard a loud voice from the reception area. She hurriedly went outside to see the matter when she heard another scream.

"Where's the doctor"???

"What's the matter?" Y/N asked the man sternly. Karina, who was trying to calm down her manager, looked towards the doctor.

" I'm really sorry doctor. It's just ......". She couldn't speak further. Karina just couldn't. She didn't realise what was happening when she suddenly felt it. Her heart suddenly increased its pace and was beating rapidly in her rib cage. She felt the blood rushing towards her cheeks turning them crimson red and found herself incapable to speak anything in front of the beautiful doctor.

"Maybe it's true!"