#and I’m sure it felt every bit of what it amplified

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 C.Kent

author's note: im going to start put warnings on my posts!

warnings: 18+, smut

the fortress of solitude felt colder than usual, though clark wasn’t sure if it was the endless arctic winds or the icy glares you’d been shooting his way since he brought you here. your normally warm, witty demeanor was gone, replaced by a biting edge that he didn’t recognize and definitely didn’t appreciate.

“this is the best you’ve got, boy scout?” you sneered, your arms crossed over your chest. “you fly me to your crystal igloo because what—your big alien brain couldn’t figure out how to handle this on your own?”

clark sighed, his patience wearing thin. “you’re not yourself,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “whatever infected you is messing with your emotions. i’m trying to help you, but you’re making it pretty damn difficult.”

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “you don’t like that i’m not worshipping you like the rest of metropolis? guess what, superman—you’re not as perfect as you think you are.”

the venom in your words stung, but clark kept his composure. he’d seen you infected before—by kryptonite, mind control, even magic—but this was different. you weren’t just angry. you were downright mean, and it was getting under his skin in a way that made him both frustrated and... unsettled.

his gaze flicked over your body, searching for any physical signs of the infection. your skin glowed faintly, a sheen of sweat catching the fortress’s cool light. the labored rise and fall of your chest was rhythmic but heavy, as if your body was fighting itself from the inside out.

“i need to run a scan,” clark said, his voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“oh, do you?” you snapped, stepping closer, your lips curling into a smirk. “go ahead, scan away, mr. perfect. maybe you’ll find out i’m too much woman for you to handle.”

his jaw tightened, but he forced himself to ignore your taunts. he guided you toward the kryptonian scanner, his large hands surprisingly gentle despite the tension. you didn’t resist, but you made it clear you weren’t going to make things easy.

“you know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “maybe i don’t want to be cured. maybe i like feeling this free, this... wild. ever think of that, farm boy?”

clark stepped back, trying to ignore the way your tone sent an unexpected jolt through him. his fingers moved over the console as the scanner activated, its blue light bathing you in an otherworldly glow.

“there,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as the screen displayed the results. a foreign substance, glowing faintly red, was coursing through your bloodstream. it wasn’t kryptonite, but it was definitely kryptonian in origin.

“whatever it is, it’s amplifying your emotions,” clark said, his voice calm but firm. “we need to purge it from your system.”

“oh, yeah? and how exactly do you plan to do that?” you challenged, stepping closer, your breath brushing against his cheek. “gonna lecture it out of me? because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? being a self-righteous boy scout?”

his patience snapped, but instead of retreating, he leaned in, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “you want to know how i’m going to get it out of you?” his voice dropped, his usual warmth replaced by something darker, more commanding. “i’m going to use every bit of strength i have to break its hold on you. and when i’m done, you’re going to remember exactly who you are.”

your smirk faltered, but only for a moment. “big talk for someone who can’t handle a little attitude,” you shot back, though your voice wavered.

clark didn’t respond. instead, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against one of the fortress’s crystalline walls. his touch was firm but not rough, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke.

“this isn’t you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “but if this is what it takes to bring you back, then so be it.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your defiance faltering for the first time. before you could muster another snarky remark, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, and relentless. he kissed you like he was trying to break the infection’s hold with sheer force, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely.

you gasped into his mouth, the fiery anger in your veins starting to twist, morph, into something just as hot but far more desperate. his hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body to grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly against the wall.

“clark—” your voice wavered, caught between a plea and a growl.

“trust me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost commanding.

his hands slid between your thighs, spreading them wide as his fingers found the slick heat pooling there. he didn’t hesitate, his touch firm and deliberate, his fingers stroking over your clit with a precision that made your head fall back against the crystal wall.

your body betrayed you, hips bucking against his hand as his touch grew more insistent. his thumb circled your clit while his fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside with maddening skill.

“you’re fighting it,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, pressing against a spot that sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body. “don’t. let go.”

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit as he worked you with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. his fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, the rhythm of his movements building a pressure inside you that felt impossible to contain.

“clark, i—” your voice broke, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“let it out,” he commanded, his voice steady, unwavering. “all of it.”

and then it happened. the pressure inside you shattered, a blinding wave of release that ripped through your body, leaving you trembling in his arms. your vision blurred, your cries echoing through the fortress as your body convulsed, slick heat spilling onto his hand as he coaxed every last drop from you.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost soothing. his fingers slowed, drawing out your release until you were spent, your body sagging against him.

the red glow in your eyes faded, replaced by the warmth and softness he knew so well. as you came back to yourself, clark held you close, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“you’re okay,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “i’ve got you.”

you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. “clark... i—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “you’ve been through enough. just let me take care of you.”

and for once, you did.

[heartmaddie]

dusk 'til dawn ! tsukishima kei , akaashi keiji , azumane asahi , hinata shoyo , ushijima wakatoshi , kiyoomi sakusa incl ; post time-skip , fluff , fem! reader note ; thank u to garfield & the anon who requested this ! synopsis ; a small collection of domestic drabbles including the haikyuu! men

07:21 ! tsukishima kei

the flat was always unreasonably cold in the mornings.

she curled up under the thin linen sheets as she stirred awake, uncomfortable from the freezing gust of wind and rain which had just blown through their window. after she let out a groggy, tired sigh, yn looked to her right, gazing at the restful boy who had a peculiar serenity displayed on his face. a small content smile was found on her lips, he was utterly captivating.

she watched with a tender expression as kei stirred awake, he groaned quietly as he stretched out his tense muscles before rolling over to face her. the rain gently patted against their rooftop as y/n felt his warm arms pull her into his warm chest as he nuzzled his nose into the soft strands of her hair.

“morning..” he mumbled quietly, the exhaustion evident in his voice as he yawned, “what time is it?”

“seven something?” she hummed wearily in response, rubbing her face against his neck and soaking up as much warmth as she possibly could. “need to get ready for work soon..” 

he let out a quiet groan out of distaste, holding her even tighter as a silent protest.

“it’s cold, i don’t wanna get out of bed..” tsukishima was always a bit of a sulker in the morning, and yn couldn’t help but chuckle as she looked up at him with an affectionate gaze. “let’s just stay here for a little bit longer, mkay?” he murmured sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss against the skin of her temple.

“hm, fine..” she sighed dramatically, but was secretly overjoyed by his uncommon display of affection.

yn let him shift downwards to rest his golden locks against her chest, her fingers intertwining with each strand. her gaze followed him as his eyes started to shut once again, falling into the temptation of sleep in the comfort of her envelope.

9:53 ! akaashi keiji

“i can always cancel my meeting, i don’t want you to be alone when you’re unwell.” he hummed quietly, voice a blur to her ringing ears. keiji always had nurturing tendencies, but that was amplified to the max when she was sick. he brushed his rough fingertips over the skin of her forehead, moving any hair from her face.

“no, it’s okay,” she was so congested, it was evident on her tongue from every word she’d utter. “you should go to work,” her gaze was ever so soft as she admired his furrowed eyebrows and worried expression, her fingers rested on top of his hand, offering him a sliver of comfort, confirming that she’d be okay alone.

“are you sure?” his forehead creased and she let out a soft giggle as she brought her soft hand to rub the wrinkles away.

“you’ll look old if you keep on frowning like that..” she hummed, lips twisted upwards as she looked up at him.

“you just make me worry.” he huffed as he pressed a soft kiss to her supple cheek, “i’ll bring you home some medicine, make sure to rest up.” keiji rested his forehead against hers, potentially breathing in the bacteria of her illness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

keiji let out a soft sigh as he slid into the bed next to her. he rested his arms around her waist, bringing her into the warmth of his chest. 

“you’ll be late..” her droopy eyes and flushed nose was trained on him, he felt his heart patter a little bit faster as a small amount of blood rushed to his cheeks.

“they’ll live, i’m more concerned about you right now.” his fingers pulled her hair back into a ponytail, settling the loose strands on her shoulder, “i’ll leave once you’re asleep.” he whispered, bringing his lips to her cheek.

she nodded, smiling up at him before resting her eyes and curling against the pillow. akaashi couldn’t help but run his fingers up and down the expanse of her arm, an attempt to lull her to sleep before he carefully slipped out of bed and turned the lights off, offering her a soft kiss before leaving the house.

12:27 ! azumane asahi

days with him were always tender.

she brushed his hair carefully as he worked on some early sketches of potential collections. his thick fingers were dusted with graphite and blisters as they brushed over the paper below him. their apartment was strewn with loose drawings and photographs, it was an organised mess, but somehow still cozy.

“you’d look nice in this piece actually, i’ll size one for you later.” he muses, holding up the thin sheet of paper up for her to see.

“i like the square neckline, what fabric will you use?” she asked curiously, peering down at the paper through blue light glasses. her fingers ran through his velvet-like strands of hair.

“don’t know, silk maybe?” he glanced up at her, eyes impossibly soft as he smiled gently. “what do you think?”

“i’m not the designer here..” she mumbled jokingly, kissing the nape of his neck before slumping down on the couch next to him. “you shouldn’t slouch, why don’t you work at your desk instead of at the coffee table?”

“lighting’s better here.” his eyes were drawn to her, he couldn’t help but reach out for her hand and gently caress her soft fingers, so unlike his. “and besides, that room is miserable, i prefer staying out here with you.” he admitted, taking a sip from the steaming mug.

“clingy,” she leaned her head on his shoulder, watching as he sketched. his face was brightened by the sun shining down on him, and her heart swelled ever so softly as she gazed up at him. “i think i prefer the new conditioner i bought. my hair feels a bit more silky now.”

“yeah, it looks good.” he glances over at her, eyes still impossibly soft before he checked the time, “it’s almost 12:30, should we prepare lunch?”

she nodded in response, taking his hand as he pulled her off the couch and into his embrace, whispering a sweet nothing into her ear before they continued to their kitchen.

15:05 ! hinata shoyo

shoyo was always exhausted after practice, the last thing on his mind was his normal exuberant personality.

he had a serene smile on his face as she applied thick layers of aloe vera gel onto his skin. there was nothing that he enjoyed more than these tranquil, everyday moments with her. the sun would set a lot earlier during the winter, and he was grateful that he’d be able to utilise a couple more hours with her in their shared apartment during the off season.

“you should come watch my practices” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically soft as he brushed his fingers through his orange hair, “can you apply some to my back, it’s a bit itchy still..” he lifted up the back of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular back.

“maybe next time, yeah?” her free hand ruffled through his messy hair, letting him melt into her arms. she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling his musk of seawater and sunshine. he leaned against the headboard of their bed with a groan, tense thighs and calves relaxing after an excruciating day.

he reached out and pulled her into his arms, pressing multiple kisses against her cheeks & neck, ignoring her relentless giggles. 

“stop sho- that tickles!” she smiled up at him with her eyes creased, and his heart warmed immensely.

“don’t wanna..” he nuzzled against her neck, letting a huff out as his body relaxed on top of hers. “let me practice something.” he’d beg her for this exact thing everyday without fail.

minutes later, the two of them were situated on the ground, hinata grasping onto three chunks of hair which he eagerly tried to braid with. she hummed gently as they conversed about their day, her head occasionally turning towards his and pressing soft, sweet kisses against his chapped lips, receiving flustered, almost awkward giggles in return.

18:55 ! ushijima wakatoshi

his favourite pastime was watching her get ready for bed.

he found it holistic, almost reverent how she’d change into matching pajamas or how on sundays she’d spend a half hour extra in their bathroom. it was so peculiar to him, he’d never seen something like this before.

but he particularly liked standing behind her, leaning against the wall of their bathroom as she meticulously went through each step of her skincare routine, applying miscellaneous gels and creams onto her face which he couldn’t even bear to fathom. she had a little collection of products which she’d use on the daily, ones he had spent a small fortune on, afterall, but they surely did work. there was a soft glow which radiated from her face after she’d finished her routine, a small aspect of her appearance he’d grown to not just love, but appreciate.

sometimes, if he was lucky that night, she’d even let him massage her exfoliating cleanser for her. he found that the grains felt relaxing on his fingertips, but he found the way she’d look up at him with closed eyes utterly endearing, he couldn’t help but let his heart melt and pulse faster then. 

wakatoshi was the epitome of care when it came to her, he wouldn’t dare ruin that half hour she’d set aside for herself every night. but occasionally he’d wrap his arms around her from behind, pressing gentle osculates against her nape as she’d apply her topical creams, he couldn’t help himself.

he’d let out a small smile every time, rubbing his thick fingers into her waist as he watched in awe, he was absolutely infatuated with her. & once she had washed her hands and untied her hair, he was the one to be gracefully pulling her towards the bed and tucking her under the sheets.

21:12 ! kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi hated coming home late, but he surely didn’t mind the sight of her wrapped up in their sheets.

the moon shone down on their apartment, the city still bustling as he carefully walked through, not wanting to make a noise. his back was unbearably tense, muscles screaming in agony as he opened the door to their bedroom, almost immediately soothed once he laid eyes upon his partner in a deep state of tranquil in the lonesome of their bed. his heart swelled.

once he’d stripped himself of his sweaty clothes and basked under the warm cascade of their shower, he pulled a black shirt over his head and found a pair of pajama pants to wear, ones which had been the ones to match hers, coincidentally. he brushed his teeth and washed his face, but his heart would beat ever so quicker whenever his eyes would land on her, he found her even more stunning under the moon’s blue light.

before sliding into the bed, he’d gently pressed soft kisses against the skin of her forehead, smiling to himself as he brushed every strand of stray hair away from her face. he was devout when it came to her, with methodical touches was he only able to bring her into his embrace - he was always cold, and she was the only thing able to warm him.

finally, his eyes could close, he was absolutely exhausted. his head nuzzled against her scalp, inhaling the scent of clean, honey fragranced hair. he could rest in this familiarity. with a groan, his arms tightened around her impossibly, but still careful as to not wake her up. sakusa melted into the mattress, letting out tired groans and occasional stirs as he found himself falling asleep.

it still surprised him how easily he could fall asleep now, compared to when he was younger and all alone. 

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p © heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Desperation✨

I’M NOT DONE YET >:)

Maybe I should go on vacation more often, gets the creative juices flowing, I hope y’all like a little bit of sub!Lucifer 😏

(No set up to this one either, this is just gonna be smut right out of the gate lmaooooo)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: A more than willing Lucifer is ready to submit to your every whim…

Warnings: 18+, smut, sub!lucifer, light dom!reader, teasing, pet names, orgasm denial, edging, hand job, oral (m & f receiving), p in v

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. Well…that’s not entirely true. But you never thought that you would ever be in the situation you found yourself in. Not that you were upset at all by it. Lucifer, the almighty ruler of Hell itself, was bound and blindfolded in your bed wearing nothing more than his briefs. His hands were restrained to the bed post with tightly knotted rope while a silk ribbon obstructed his vision, leaving him absolutely helpless. Of course, you both knew he could more than easily break free from his bondage, but he wasn’t going to. He trusted you with his entire being, his devotion to you was undying. He was now yours to tease, to use, and to break. The thought excited both of you. You had already stripped naked, wasting no time as you closed in on your prey.

“Are you ready, Luci?” you asked, inching yourself closer to the foot of the bed.

“Yes, darling,” he answered sweetly, “do with me what you please.”

“Good boy,” you hummed. You heard a light moan escape his lips from just your words. He loved nothing more than receiving praise from you. You began by resting your hands on his ankles, ever so slowly moving them up to his calves, and stopping to massage the inside of his thighs. It was already apparent that he was having a difficult time sitting still, he was very sensitive after all. Your touch was intoxicating, he could never be satisfied. And the blindfold certainly amplified the experience. You finally moved your hands up his briefs and onto his hips, where he finally bucked up from your touch.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you chastised, “don’t move, baby. Be good for me.”

“Y-yes, love,” he murmured.

“Already so needy, aren’t we?,” you teased, noticing the very obvious wet spot on his shorts. “We’ve barely started.” You palmed his erection, eliciting a yelp from Lucifer. You began to slowly stroke him through his clothing, you felt his cock twitch at your gentle touch.

“Pl-Please, I-mmhn, please m-more,” he babbled. The sounds of his begging were pure ecstasy. What a feeling to have power over the most powerful being in the realm. You chuckled, reaching for the hem of his briefs, finally releasing his hardened cock. His tip leaked precum onto his stomach, Lucifer whimpered softly.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” you coerced, “tell me what you want.”

You heard an audible gulp from Lucifer. Even with the blindfold, you could tell that his cheeks had flushed a bright red. “T-Touch me, pl-please…need to f-feel you,” he choked out.

You smiled as you reached out to grab the base of his cock, forcing another moan out of Lucifer. You started to stroke his shaft up and down at an agonizingly slow pace, precum leaking onto your hand. It felt like he could burst at any second, but you planned on making this last as long as possible. You could already feel yourself getting wet from the sight of him writhing under your touch. Lucifer’s breathing became heavy as though he couldn’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. Unfortunately, he bucked up his hips to your touch again. You let go of him completely, Lucifer nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

“What did I say, Luci?,” you scolded.

“Imsorryimsorry!!,” Lucifer cried, “Please! Please, I’ll be good. Please don’t stop…”

“You need to learn some patience, baby,” you retorted, kneeling down and taking a long lick from the base of his shaft to the head. Lucifer’s moans had turned into breathy gasps for air. Without warning, you plunged your mouth down on his cock.

“FFFUUUUCCCKKKK!,” Lucifer yelled as you continued to bob your head up and down on his length. He was well endowed, so you were careful not to take too much of him all at once. Your hot mouth engulfed half of him while your hand stroked the rest, perfectly in sync. You circled your tongue around his tip, loving the taste of his precum. The only sounds from Lucifer were screams of pleasure as you overstimulated him with your mouth.

“Talk to me, sweetie,” you said sternly, “how does this make you feel?”

“S-so good, love,” he panted, “ffffuuucckk, I’m so c-close, soooo close…”

“Mmm, what a good boy you are, Luci,” you smiled. You moved your hand and mouth away from his cock in an instant, leaving it to lay on his stomach once again. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he whined inconsolably, completely devastated by the loss of any friction. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

You crawled up onto the bed and hovered over Lucifer. You could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his breath was warm on your face. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He tried to deepen your kiss but you pulled away just out of reach.

“Don’t be greedy now, darling,” you murmured into his ear, sending shivers throughout his whole body. You kissed the edge of his mouth, then his cheek, then moved down and stopped at his throat. As you started to nip and suck at his sensitive skin, you could feel his rapid pulse while you marked him. You looked up to admire your work, a beautiful purple bruise that he can show off to the rest of Hell. “I want you to show me how desperate you are for me. Can you do that, love?,” you cooed.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer whimpered, “yes, anything!”

You hummed in approval. You continued to crawl on top of him until your pussy was place right above his face. Despite being blindfolded, Lucifer knew exactly what was happening. It took every fiber of his being to keep himself restrained because he would devour you in an instant. He whimpered beneath you waiting for your command.

“Eat up, pretty boy,” you chuckled, lowering yourself closer to his more than willing mouth. You felt his tongue hit your slick folds immediately, causing you to gasp. He easily found your clit and focused all of his attention on it. You tried your best not to move too much and risk removing his blindfold, but it was easier said than done. You couldn’t help but grind against him as he lapped up your dripping cunt. You held on to the headboard in front of you, trying and failing to keep your composure. You felt the knot inside your stomach tighten more and more with each flick of his tongue. You had to pull away now before he could finish you off. In one swift motion, you pulled yourself off of Lucifer’s face and moved to sit on his chest, letting yourself catch your breath.

“NO!,” Lucifer cried, “you’re so cruel…”

“Now, now, is that anyway to speak to me?”, you teased. Before he could respond, you slid yourself down further and began to grind your cunt on his throbbing erection. Lucifer’s strangled moans filled the empty room, you could listen to him like that forever.

“Tell me what you want, Lucifer,” you barked, refusing to slow your hips as you rocked back and forth on his cock.

“F-Fuck…fuck me…p-please,” he moaned. You moved your hips faster, causing Lucifer to scream. Tears started to leak through the blindfold and fall down his face.

“I know you can do better than that, pretty boy,” you laughed coldly. “I’ll ask again, what do you want?”

“FUCK ME, P-PLEASE FUCK ME, RIDE MY COCK, PLEASE LOVE, I-I NEED TO BE IN YOU NOW, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEFUCKMENOW!,” Lucifer cried out in agony.

“That’s what I hoped you’d say, my sweet boy” you praised. His words went straight to your aching cunt, you couldn’t wait any longer. You lined up his cock with your entrance and sank down on him, sheathing him inside of you completely. You both moaned in tandem at the sensation. Before long, you started bouncing on his cock at a steady pace at first. But only moments passed before your hips started to shift rapidly, chasing the orgasm you denied Lucifer earlier.

“Wanna-wanna see you,” Lucifer pleaded weakly, “please, p-please let me see you, love…” He sounded so broken and sweet, you couldn’t say no to him. He did so well for you, after all. You took pity on him and removed the blindfold from his face. You looked into his eyes, they were puffy from the tears he’d shed earlier. But they seemed to glow brighter once he saw you, completely drunk on his cock. “So beautiful…”, he whispered.

“Luci…,” you moaned, “feels so good, shhhiiiitt…”

“Love, s-so close, I-I can’t…,” Lucifer choked out, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he just wanted to feel you come undone.

“Look at me,” you commanded, “look at m-me when you cum. Be…Be a good boy and cum for me!” Lucifer opened his eyes, his face had turned beet red from your praise.

“I-I’m gonna…fuckfuckFUCKIMCUMMING,” he screamed, thrusting up into you only a few more times before his orgasm hit him hard, spilling his cum into your waiting pussy. Just a second later the tight knot in your stomach unraveled and you felt the waves of pleasure throughout your body, your newly painted white walls clenching around Lucifer’s cock.

Your body gave out and you collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. Lucifer snapped his fingers and the rope that had restrained him was gone. He helped you off him and laid you next to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He kissed the top of your head and pushed the hair away from your face.

“That…that was so good, my angel,” Lucifer smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You laughed lightly, looking up from his chest. “Yes, I enjoyed that a lot, Lucifer, thank you. I…I wasn’t too harsh, was I? I might have teased you too much, I-” You were cut off by Lucifer’s lips, now completely forgetting what you were going to say.

“You were perfect, darling,” he reassured you. “I loved it! And I love you. We’ll certainly be doing that again.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest.

“I put you through a lot tonight,” you said, “let me run you a bath. And then we can cuddle afterwards. Sound good?”

“Only if you join me, my dear,” Lucifer bargained. You could only smile and nod, how could you say no?

~~~~

Happy Valentine’s Day ya filthy animals!! 💖💖💖

[livelaughlovesubs]

Poe's hair looks so pullable

I bet he whines oh so prettily when you accidentally pull his hair while you push his head down into the pillows fucking him from behind -🦀

Let’s bet on the same thing cuz whoever believes otherwise is wasting money ✨✨ (I hope you like it cuz I think I rushed it a little)

Dom!reader x sub!poe

Reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (can be read as a strap), hair pulling

“Ah-mhm..!” Poe gasped, whimpered even. Head pressed into the pillow below him to block out the noises he makes. This was too shameful, why was he so vocal? With those thoughts pestering his mind, he hugged the pillow even tighter and bit it, hoping it would help him quiet down. It was impossible to not make any sounds when you were fucking him so so so good, enough to make him see stars. Your every movement made him squirm, and each time you whispered some dirty words into his ear he could feel his heart pound out of his chest.

The way you hold his waist made him feel so loved, and how you always made sure he was comfortable. All those soft sides of yours got him feeling so warm, so much that he was on the verge of tears. Then there was the rough and merciless side, how you’d degrade him with every chance you got and rearrange his insides. That side made him cry and sob, all the humiliation he feels turns into immense pleasure. “Mhmm..!” More of his muffled moans escaped, and soon he felt you stroke his hair.

“Come on Poe, I want to hear your voice.” You asked him while keeping the same pace, trusting into his needy hole. It clenched around you so tightly, like it doesn’t want to let you go. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together, yet he was still this shy. It was adorable nonetheless, but his voice was the highlight, the way it would went up a few octaves, how he’s so breathless all the time.. simply heavenly.

The poor boy couldn’t answer you, too busy trying to hide his own pleasure. You couldnt let this slide though, you really wanted to hear him, that’s why you tucked on his hair. Using the hand stroking his fluffy locks to pull on it, causing him to arch and throw his head back, a loud whine followed, “aaAHHH..!” Soon the realisation hit him, it was so embarrassing! He tried to immediately hide in the pillow again, but your hand was preventing him from doing it.

Whenever he tried to go down, you’d pull on his hair, and he’d end up moaning louder. Suddenly you increased your pace, hitting all the sweet spots inside him. This was too good, this was unbearable. If this keeps up he’s going to break!!!

Pleases and begs fell from his lips, his entire body twitched and trembled. You watched in amusement as he cried and whimpered, his dick was leaking uncontrollably, making a mess of the sheets. The expression he pulled was engraved into your memories. Eyes rolling back and hair sticking to his forehead, tears running down his cheeks like a drama. Not to mention how red he was, it was almost concerning. Then you leaned down to his level, caressing his hair again and changing the way you treated him. Your voice was like a spell, hypnotising him, amplifying all those blissful feelings. “You like having your hair pulled, Poe? Like it when I’m rough with you?” After you finished whispering the last word, he felt like he almost came because of your voice. He gave you a small, hesitant nod, wanting to bury himself in a hole afterwards.

“Talk to me, pretty boy.” You demanded with a gentle tone. How can you be so domineering but soft at the same time? The male gulped, shivering as he murmured, “I, UhmM..I liked it, ah-aHHh~..!” So adorable, you wanted to be more mean to him, he was basically asking you to bully him. Out of nowhere you yanked on his hair again, the pain ran through his veins and he gasped. “Ga-ahH-!!” You wanted more of him with every passing second. “Good boy, Poe, now let’s see what else you like?” He knew it wasn’t really a question, it was a promise. And he knew he won’t be able to hold a pen the next day.

[shybluebirdninja]

Control Room

Summary: Bucky’s voice is in your ear, instructing you while the camera rolls; every move is his to command.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) x Female Reader

Note                 : sex tape, masturbation, domination

The low hum of the camera filled the dimly lit room, casting a soft glow over the tangled sheets that lay beneath you. Bucky's voice came through the earpiece, smooth and commanding, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, igniting a fire deep within.

“Alright, doll, you ready for this?” His tone was low, a dangerous mix of anticipation and raw lust that sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. There was something about the way he said doll that made your heart race. Bucky had that effect on you—like he could light you up from across the room, making every nerve sing with desire. “Let’s do it.”

“Good.” He chuckled softly, the sound like a rumble of thunder in the distance. “Now, let’s start slow. I want you to tease the camera for me. Show me what you’ve got.”

You shifted, letting the soft sheets slide against your skin, exposing your body to the lens. The way Bucky watched you felt like a thousand eyes on you at once, but it was only his. You could feel the heat radiating from him, even through the earpiece, and you could practically see the way his dark blue eyes would be glimmering with desire.

“Show me that pretty face of yours, babe,” he urged, the gravel in his voice sending another wave of heat through your core. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as you arched your back slightly, lifting your chest for the camera.

“That’s it, just like that. You look so good when you’re trying to please me,” he growled, and you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. It was music to your ears, knowing that you could bring him to the edge with just a look.

“Now, touch yourself for me,” he commanded, and it was less of a request and more of a demand. You couldn’t help but obey, feeling every bit the submissive under his watchful gaze. Your fingers trailed slowly down your body, teasingly lingering at your thighs before moving to your center, where the heat pooled, begging for release.

“Fuck, just like that. Keep going, don’t stop,” he said, his voice thick with lust, each word dripping with need. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation and the sound of his voice.

As your fingers moved with purpose, you could feel his eyes on you—every touch was amplified, every moment stretched out, suffocating with anticipation. “Bucky…” you breathed, not sure if you were begging or pleading.

“Keep it up, baby. I want you to feel every second of this. I’m right here, watching you, and I won’t take my eyes off you.”

You could hear the way his breath quickened, matching the rhythm of your fingers. It pushed you further, igniting something primal inside you, fueling the fire that was building. You knew he was waiting, just a heartbeat away from the edge, ready to take you where he wanted.

“Now, get on your knees,” he ordered, the authority in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. You obeyed without hesitation, moving smoothly to position yourself, the cool air brushing against your heated skin. “Good girl. Now, look up at the camera while you play.”

Your heart raced as you complied, the sight of your flushed cheeks reflected in the lens pushing you to the brink. You could hear the low growl from him, and it sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. “Damn, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Bucky…” you whined, desperate for more, for him. “I need you.”

“I know, babe. Just hang tight for me. We’re just getting started.”

With that, he instructed you to switch positions, wanting to take full advantage of the two hours you had set aside for this. “Let’s see you ride that pillow. I want to watch you grind.”

As you shifted again, a wave of confidence surged through you. You positioned yourself over the pillow, feeling the plushness beneath you, imagining it was Bucky’s body instead. You moved slowly at first, teasingly, just like he liked it, but the growing need inside you pushed you to pick up the pace.

“Yeah, just like that. Feel that pressure building? I want you to let go when I tell you to.”

His voice was a tether, holding you close while pulling you deeper into that spiral of desire. You could almost feel his hands gripping your hips, guiding you along, but all you had was the pillow and the sweet promise of his words.

“Now, faster,” he commanded, and you obeyed, the sounds of skin against fabric filling the room. You felt your body respond, heat pooling and building as you chased that sweet release, and Bucky’s breath quickened in your ear.

“Almost there, babe. I can feel you getting close. Just a little more, don’t stop.”

The tension in the air thickened, coiling tighter around you as you desperately chased the edge. “Bucky! I can’t hold on much longer!”

“Then don’t. Let go for me. Now.”

You obeyed, crashing over the precipice he’d crafted with his words and that commanding presence of his. Pleasure shot through you like fireworks, your body quaking in delight as Bucky’s voice drummed in your ear, urging you on, coaxing every ounce of ecstasy from you.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “That’s it. You did so well.”

As your body calmed, you leaned back against the pillows, panting, heart racing. Bucky’s next command was already on the horizon, and you could feel your anticipation building once more.

“Alright, baby, let’s switch it up. Now, I want you to lay back, and I’m going to take control.”

With that, the room filled with a new wave of heat, and you knew the next hour would be even more intense, just as he wanted. The camera rolled, capturing every second of Bucky's relentless hunger for you.

[redpill-tfs]

The Ideal Candidate

Sean adjusted his tie as he sat stiffly in the oversized chair. The reception area of Aceman Inc. was sleek and modern, but the high ceilings and muted decor only seemed to amplify his nervousness. He still couldn’t believe he was here. Applying for the HR position had been a whim—a shot in the dark. The company was known for favoring seasoned professionals with decades of experience, not fresh-faced 23-year-olds.

Yet here he was, summoned for an interview less than 24 hours after submitting his application. The rapid turnaround was shocking, but Sean was determined to make a strong impression. He’d gone all out, picking a bright green suit and pairing it with an orange tie adorned with playful wavy patterns. It was bold and a bit unconventional—just like him. “Let them see the real me,” his boyfriend had said with a supportive grin that morning.

The receptionist called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Sean Ackerman? Mr. Johnson will see you now.”

Sean stood, smoothing his jacket and taking a deep breath. He could do this. As he stepped into the office, Mr. Johnson, a man in his mid-fifties with a sharp suit and an air of authority, looked up from his desk. His initial surprise at Sean’s attire was subtle but unmistakable.

“Ah, Mr. Ackerman,” Johnson said, motioning to the chair opposite his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Sean sat down, his bright tie contrasting vividly with the subdued tones of the office. Mr. Johnson flipped through a stack of papers, then looked up with a faint smile.

“We were impressed by your resume,” he began, “but as you know, Aceman holds its candidates to high standards. I want to ensure you’re a true fit for our team.”

Sean nodded, sitting straighter, his confidence bolstered by the compliment. “Of course. I’m ready to prove myself.”

“Good,” Johnson said, his tone shifting to something more evaluative. “Let’s begin. At Aceman, we value experience. Our ideal candidate typically has years of professional growth—someone in their late thirties or early forties.”

Sean opened his mouth to respond but paused, a strange wave of agreement settling over him. His joints ached faintly as he shifted in his chair. It made sense, didn’t it? After all, he’d graduated over 15 years ago. The protest marches, career changes, and long hours had taken their toll, but they’d shaped him into the seasoned professional he was today.

Johnson continued, his gaze sharp. “We also value tradition. Aceman’s dress code is strict for a reason—it reflects our commitment to professionalism and respect.”

Sean glanced down at his outfit, and a pang of embarrassment hit him. What had he been thinking? A green suit? An orange tie? No, he would never wear something so garish to an interview. His navy-blue suit was crisp, his tie perfectly knotted. Professionalism was paramount, and he was proud to represent it.

“And most importantly,” Johnson said, leaning forward slightly, “we embody conservative values: faith, family, and duty. Our employees must reflect these principles in their actions and beliefs.”

Sean felt his cross pendant brush against his chest, a comforting weight. Of course, faith was central to his life. He’d always known God’s path was the right one, guiding him through every challenge. His voting record spoke for itself—unwaveringly Republican since he turned 18. As for family, there was nothing more sacred. His wife, Ashley, and their three boys were his world. Raising them with the right values was his greatest responsibility.

Johnson leaned back, studying Sean with an approving nod. “You’re shaping up to be an ideal candidate, Mr. Ackerman. We’d be honored to have you on board.”

Sean stood, extending his hand confidently. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I’m eager to contribute to Aceman’s success and think I have a lot to offer the company.”

"I believe so as well. I'm sure you'll bring in lots of ideal candidates after your training period ends."

[becauseimswagman1]

Taste

Kelvin Harrison Jr. x reader

--inspired by that Kelvin video of him licking his lips--

warnings: 18+ MDNI, oral (reader receiving), use of pet names (baby girl)

-------------------------

Tonight was a red carpet event. You were Kelvin’s plus one and you both looked fucking sickening. Since it’s the first event he’s ever brought you to, he got y’all a limo. 

Once y’all got in and settled, Kelvin immediately had the driver raise the partition. “Thank God this limo has a partition that works.” Kelvin thought.

“Kel, why did you get him to raise the partition? Every time, and I mean every time, we have a driver of any sort, you wanna be in charge of the music.”

Kelvin slid closer to you and nosed at your neck, “Just wanted to try something different today.”

You cracked a smile, “You’re so touchy today. Not that I’m complaining, but this is more than usual… did you break something that I don’t know about?”

He laughed, “No! You just look especially radiant today.” He slid his hand up your dress, “And in this damn dress?” he bit his lip, “Mm, the way you look has me dying for a taste.”

You spread your legs, “Baby, what has gotten into you?”

Kelvin kissed your neck while continuing on his path to your panties, “Nothing, I just want you to know how good you look.”

You let out a silent gasp, “And your plan is to finger me in order to let me know?”

“My plan is do to more than that if you let me.” He rubbed the middle of your panties, a wetness steadily growing. “You gone let me do more?”

“Shit… we’re not… we’re not fucking in this limo.”

He slid your panties to the side, “Relax baby girl, we’re not. I just wanna taste you.” and rubbed your clit a bit.

You grabbed his shoulder, “In the limo?”

“I can’t wait til the event’s over. I need that pussy in my mouth.”

“Yeah… yeah do it.” you laid down and Kelvin pushed your dress up to your hips, thankfully it wasn’t a tight dress.

He nosed at your pussy through your panties, inhaling deeply then he pulled them down and dived in, licking all over your pussy. 

“Shit, baby…”

“Hm? Feel good?” he licked at your hole, fucking his tongue into it. 

“FUCK!” 

Kelvin slid his hand up to your mouth and stuck two fingers in it, “Shh baby… can’t be too loud.” he sucked your clit as he pressed his fingers on your tongue, letting the spit pool in your mouth then swirled it around then took them out and rubbed them against your hole.

“You taste so fucking good. I can never get enough of the way you taste, of the way you smell too. I love everything about this pretty thing you have between your legs.” he put his fingers in and started going to town. 

“Oh fuckkk, baby. Please…” You arched your back. The thought of knowing the driver could be listening amplified how good felt. 

“Please what baby girl? You wanna cum?” he curled his fingers up and moved them faster, hitting that spongy spot inside of you head-on, “You wan-”

“We’re ten minutes out, Mr. Harrison.”

Kelvin froze and so did you. 

He cleared his throat, “Uh, thank you!”

After a minute to two of silence, the two of you busted out laughing, “Damn, do you think he heard us?”

“Most definitely, you’re not exactly quiet, babe.” he leaned up over you.

“Not my fault. You were making me feel good.”

He pecked your lips, “Were? I’m gonna finish my road snack.” he went back to your core and kissed your clit. He never did take his fingers out.

“Road snack?!” you let out a breath, “Yeah… finish me.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” Kelvin put his mouth back on you with a new mission. To enjoy you on his tongue, of course, but to make you cum and make sure both of you are camera ready in ten minutes. No pressure. He’s made you nut in less time than that.

He went back to his punishing pace with his fingers and flicked his tongue on your clit. 

“Oh baby… you’re gonna make me cum! Fuckkkk…” You palmed his head and pushed his face into you. You were gonna smother him and he had no complaints of that at all. 

“Mhm mhm…” he started pressing that spot inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes. Ooooh fuck yes, baby! I’m gonna cum!” you came hard on his face and he took it all like a champ. He cleaned you up with his tongue and everything. 

He pulled his fingers out and sat up. He slid your panties back up and patted your mound, “That’s good shit right there.”

You giggled, “You are wild for that.” you pulled your dress back down and sat up, “My makeup okay?”

He stared at you, “Maybe reapply your lip liner babe. And what about me? My makeup okay? Do I wear your pussy juice well?

You almost yelled, “Please! Come here, lemme wipe a little off. It’s really all over your face.” you reached for him.

“Nah, nah. I got it.” he wiped the corners of his mouth and licked his fingers, “That’s finger-licking good I tell you!”

You had taken out your handheld mirror to take a look at yourself, you really did need to reapply your lip liner, “Kelvin you are too much.” 

“That’s what you love about me though.” 

“Yeah yeah…” you took one more look at yourself after reapplying, “I look alright now?”

“Good enough to eat… again.” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, “Come here.” you grabbed his face and pecked his lips.

“You are-”

The door opened, “We’ve arrived Mr. Harrison.”

“Thank you. Ladies first baby.”

—----------------------------------------

Actually getting to the carpet took no time at all. You didn’t wanna be a third wheel to Kelvin and Aaron’s red carpet shenanigans so after pictures, you went inside. Being in the spotlight too long was never your thing. 

When it got time for red-carpet interviews, them motherfuckers were quite nosey.

“Okay, Kelvin last question.”

“Aight, what’s up?”

“Why are your lips so glossy? Are you looking to start a new trend?”

“Hm? They are?” he licked them. Oh, it wasn’t gloss… it was you. Still lingering. “Nah, my girl had on gloss. Must’ve transferred on me when we kissed.”

He licked them again and slyly wiped his fingers under his nose… the same fingers he used to finger you with. 

“Oh, that’s cute! When are we gonna officially get an interview with her on the red carpet?”

“I don’t know. You know, my baby’s more introverted than I am! Maybe I’ll convince her one of these days.” he sniffed his top lip, “I should get to her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll catch y’all later.”

He walked away, in search of you to maybe get another taste in the bathroom.

-----------------------

A/N: comments get me motivated to write more!!

Taglist (comment to be added, dm to be removed): @femdisa @luvrsluxe @ayeeeitsmiracle @sharmelasworld @papithetia @mzv11 @gg-trini

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 22: Lipstick Prints

Photo: From Pinterest, JAW getting ready for the Golden Globes

Bearblr Promptober Day 22: Costumes

Summary: Carmy's getting ready for a costume party, and he learns he likes his girlfriend's lipstick prints on him. Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, mentions of The Devil (Chef David), mentions of Donna Berzatto, Carmy is startled, comfort, fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (1,611 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

22 Oct 2024

“Fuck me, Bear, you can’t go looking like that,” she said.

Don’t ask me how it happened (okay, maybe it had to do with her confessing that she wants to have children with me, what the fuck is my life), but I decided to accept Darling’s invitation to a costume party that people from her work were putting on. I don’t know, I had a weird sort of confidence that evening.

Had.

I froze while buttoning up my shirt, a sheer black number that I was pairing with a black suit. My stomach lurched. Did I break a social rule? The fuck did she mean, I couldn’t go looking like that?

“I-I’m sorry?” was all I managed to get out.

“I want to eat you.”

Oh. Oh, I suppose that was valid. I felt myself start to shrink, dammit.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t weird confidence. Maybe I was just fucked up enough to do something crazy in some asinine attempt to ward off gnawing guilt from refusing to pick up 3 calls from ma and then refusing to talk to her when Nat wandered into the kitchen with her on the phone. It was eating a hole through me, those stupid little bubbles on my phone and then Sug’s sad eyes. Missed call from Mom. The number of times I thought about blocking her number or deleting it, and then thinking better of it because surely, surely at some point Donna Fucking Berzatto was going to have a crisis bad enough that she’d call me, and I didn’t know if I could live with my guts twisting into knots knowing she—I don’t know—bled out in a car wreck because she was driving drunk again and I just happened to have her phone number blocked at the time.

Only to then not pick up the phone. To just stare at it while it buzzed at me, frozen in space, drowning in flashes of her tear-soaked face, the smell of stale cigarettes, cheap wine, that old, shitty perfume she wore to cover up the smell of booze. That sting from every time she hit me across the face in my agonizing eternity in that house. I would’ve thought I had enough of my shitty little life figured out to at least pretend to want to hear from her, to not care about her emotional manipulation, her gaslighting, listen to her spun stories, get lulled by her laugh only to get bit by her insults. I could certainly do it while I was in New York, so what changed in Chicago?

I hate admitting it, but I was more bulletproof in The Devil’s home.

Maybe it was because he never stopped whipping me. Kept the armor in check, the drawbridges up, the archers at the ready. And then when it stopped, the exhaustion set in.

And when Darling set in, the exhaustion amplified.

“Pretty boy?” She sung.

My attention and gaze snapped to her. Doorway of the bedroom, long plum-colored dress with a black cloak, a little witch’s broom slung over her back. Hood pooled around her shoulders. More eyeliner, darker, brought out the color in her eyes. Black lipstick. Why did I like that so much?

“Hi.”

“Hi. Hey. Sorry,” I mumbled. Raked back my hai—

“No, no, no don’t ruin it!” She hissed. She darted forward, brushed my hand out of the way, and messed with my hair. “It looks gorgeous right now; I wanna try to keep it that way.”

That’s right. She’d tackled my hair with water and some kind of leave-in conditioner or something, so it actually had a curl pattern instead of whatever bird’s-nest bullshit it ended up in from me dragging my fingers through it a thousand times a day. She had her mother of pearl necklace on. One new to me, a fine gold chain with a little medallion, was just barely visible above her cleavage.

She then started adjusting my shirt collar. “I didn’t think you would have something like this.”

“I own nice clothes. Just, uh, don’t have a ton of opportunities to wear them here.”

“No, I mean a sheer black dress shirt.”

“Yeah, I don’t really, um, have an explanation for that…”

She smoothed her hands down my chest. I fought to keep my eyes open. It was a problem now, how fast my eyes would drift shut if she touched me, how hard it was to stay focused on anything when she had her hands on me, or when I could pick up her scent. It wasn’t just that airy vanilla and citrus note either, there was a scent to her skin. Warm, musky, maybe a bit salty like an arid coastal town that barely qualified as coastal except for when the surf was rough, and that saltwater-laden air would drift further inland. It drove me insane.

“I like it,” she murmured, now tracing her thumb over my lips. “Very witchy. And I didn’t have to buy you a shitty costume.”

I hooked her chin, leaned in for a kiss, she pulled back, and—it was entirely instinct, maybe because of the whole phone call situation, maybe because of other past experiences—I jumped back. My heart shot to my throat and my face flooded with heat. Thinking about it now, the only logical reasoning is that I still had the phone ordeal on the brain because I was expecting her to snap at me. Or swing at me. Not once—not a single time, not once, not ever, no matter what happened—never, ever did Darling make me feel unsafe. Never. It’s why I could love her so much. Why I could crumble apart in front of her, why I could crawl to her after taking a beating during service and just lie on the couch with my head on her stomach and her hands in my hair, soul smarting, stinging, sometimes screaming in pain. I was always safe. Darling is safe.

A look of horror flashed on her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” It came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t want to get lipstick on you.” She raised her arms a little. Slowly.

And I collapsed into them. She squeezed me—I keep forgetting how fucking strong she is—but the tight hug was needed. Felt like it was holding me together. My heart was still pounding, and it was a million fucking degrees, but I pulled her flush to me, buried my nose in the crook of her neck, and drew in the deepest breath I could, focused on the vanilla, citrus, the warmth. She mumbled apologies repeatedly, pressed her lips to the side of my neck, somehow held me tighter. I wanted to tell her that she’d apologized enough, but words didn’t occur to me. It was honestly just nice to be held. I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed it all day.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’m okay, I just. I dunno, it wasn’t you, it was-it was other stuff today.”

She pulled back to study my face. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“No, I’m-I’m okay.” I rubbed my eyes. I doubt it helped her feel better. “I just. I wasn’t expecting it is all.”

She leaned to the side. “Oh. I left a print on you.”

I turned and looked in the mirror. There was a black lipstick print on the side of my neck. It wasn’t perfect, a bit smeared from the angle she was at when she left it. The warmth drained from my face. Was replaced with a comfortable coolness.

“I like it,” I declared.

Her reflection arched her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

I stepped closer and studied the print. It still looked identifiably like her lips, dark gray all over with more of a black around the outside edge and a few little lines near the center of the print. Looked almost like an interesting tattoo. It was a strange sort of feeling, the feeling of being claimed, of being marked as hers. She’d been leaving those marks—lipstick prints, hickeys, bites, scratches—in places clothes could easily cover up for months already, but something about the imprint being so plainly visible, unmissable on the side of my neck, it was an addictive prospect.

Fuck, I could get a tattoo of it.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I-I like it a lot.”

She stroked my cheek with her thumb. Giggled. “Should I start giving you kisses on your neck to take to wo—?”

“Yes.” I met her eyes. “Yes. Please.” Please, leave a mark on me that makes it obvious that I’m yours. Please, Darling, my love, my sweetheart—I need to show people I belong to you. I don’t know why, I’m not interested in knowing why, I just need it to be obvious to anyone and everyone, most of all, to myself, that I am yours.

It took a moment for a wicked grin to appear on her face. She tipped my head back, pressed her lips just to the side of my throat, right over my carotid. I swallowed a pleased sound and tried to ignore the stir of heat in my core—we needed to actually go to this damned party, after all—and was rewarded with a perfect lipstick print on the other side of my neck, visible from the front. She smoothed my shirt over my shoulders. Leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“There. That one’s for you to look at.”

I bit my lip. Nodded.

I was going to wreck her when we got home.

[to-thelakes]

ok but i need a sequel to 'banged up'- pleaseeeee, kneeling, begging for more like 'banged up'

nonnie, ask and you shall receive <3

banged up (2)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; frank continues to take care of your wounds while you worry for matt's safety until he decides makes an appearance.

warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is very injured but also very stubborn, soft frank, not proof-read, description/discussion of wounds and frank stitching the reader up, matt being (also) very soft, slightly suggestive towards the end, reader is catching feelings

notes; i think this is gonna need a 3rd part but i felt like this bit ended at the right time, i dunno what i was going to add to this part so i'm just gonna write another part at a later date (where maybe... frank and reader kiss) and then hopefully this fic idea will stop plaguing me, whoever sent in this ask in, i love you but i also hate you bc i have been plagued by thoughts of these two, anywayyy, enjoy <3

masterlist

part one

It was quiet as you lay in bed. Frank was still in the kitchen. You could hear him putting dishes away as you stared at your bedroom ceiling. The painkillers had worked wonders and lying still didn’t seem to hurt as much anymore. But your face was throbbing in pain. It was red and inflamed to the touch but Frank had promised to bring an ice pack when he was done with the washing up.

You were glad he was still here but you didn’t know where Matt was and that terrified you even more. He should have been here by now. Frank had said that he was going to come over when he was done with patrol. It had been hours. Frank had cooked. Patrol should have been finished and yet the familiar tap of Matt’s gloved hands against the window hadn’t come.

“Stop bitin’ your lip,” Frank scolded, startling your eyes back open. You slowly turned your head to look at him, the ache in your spine gave you a splitting headache. He had the ice pack in his hand as he walked over to the bed, “What you worryin’ about?” He asked. You slowly and gently began to push yourself to sit up. It made every fibre of your being ache but you ignored it, leaning back against the pillow.

Frank perched on the edge of your bed and moved the ice pack in his hand to rest against your cheek. It was red and bruised, probably a little bit swollen but he hadn’t noticed until you’d been chewing dinner. The pain had only got worse so he knew you needed to rest more.

“Why isn’t Matt back? You said he’d be back after patrol,” You responded. Every word made your jaw ache so you tried your best to speak quickly, get it all over with. Frank adjusted the ice pack on your cheek again before he held it there.

“Red can take care of himself. Don’t worry about him, yeah?” Frank said. You couldn’t help the scoff that fell from your lips but the second it did, you cried out. Frank was quick to cup the other side of your face, searching your eyes to make sure that you were okay. You sighed and forced your eyes back open to meet his.

“I’m fine,” You mumbled. He nodded and let his hand drop before he glanced at the bedside table. Maybe some more painkillers would do you some good.

“Can ya hold this for me, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded and slowly lifted your hand to hold it in place. It made your body ache but you just closed your eyes and tried to forget what was happening. Matt was the one that had gotten you into this mess and he didn’t even have the decency to check up on you. It would have pissed you off if you weren’t so worried about him, “I’m gonna give you some more painkiller, open up,” He urged. You opened your mouth and Frank poured some of the liquid on the spoon before putting it in your mouth. You took it and swallowed it down.

“Aren’t I gonna overdose?” You asked, eyes still closed. You could feel the liquid slipping down your throat, every single movement and feeling in your body was amplified by ten. It was painful but the painkillers hopefully would provide some relief.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” He said. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion creeping up on you as you held the icepack in place. It was starting to warm up against your skin so you carefully flipped it over while Frank poured another spoon, “Open up,” he said. You grumbled but complied and took the spoonful. Then he capped the bottle and placed it - and the spoon - back on the side. You rested your head back against the headboard as Frank took the ice pack back from your grip. It meant that you could rest again.

“How am I gonna explain this to anyone at work?” You whined as your arms fell to your sides dramatically. Frank sighed and he gently nudged your thigh so that your eyes reopened. He had a sympathetic look on your face.

“Told you, you’re staying here,” He said. You narrowed your eyes but knew it was better not to argue. Your face hurt too much to argue and you closed your eyes again, “Wanna lie down?” He asked. You nodded and he placed the icepack on the side, “Come on, I’ll help.” With the two of you working together, Frank got you under the covers. Your face rested against the pillow and he tucked the icepack underneath. It was soothing against your red hot skin. He then slipped from the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You croaked out as you looked up at him.

“Gonna go get Red,” He said. You pouted and he rolled his eyes, “Try and get some rest while I’m gone, yeah?” You grumbled but didn’t argue with him as your eyes fell closed again. Maybe it was better if you got some sleep. Lord knows that you needed it after the beating your body had taken.

-

The sun was trickling through your curtains when your eyes blinked back open. The pain was worse than it had been the previous night and you felt groggy. You felt sick. You wanted to throw your guts up but also didn’t want to move an inch. Your entire body hurt and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

There was an abrupt silence that permeated through the apartment. You hadn’t even realised that people were talking until they stopped. You rolled over, crying out as you curled up into yourself. Your body did it on reflex as if this pain was caused by your period. Curling up seemed to just make it worse.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what are you doin’?” Frank’s voice cut through the pain as the bed sunk underneath his weight. He gently nudged the covers back, urging you to lie on your back and you did - reluctantly. Every movement hurt and he checked your face over, concern etched across his features, “Can I check your stomach?” He asked. You nodded your head, not caring what he did as long as it relieved the pain that was running through your system. You felt so sick and every movement hurt. He pulled the covers back and your shirt was covered in a thick patch of blood, “Fuck,” He snapped. You blinked up at him blearily.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. The pain was too all-consuming for you to pinpoint where it came from so you didn’t realise that you had popped your stitches in your sleep.

“Red!” Frank called to the other room. His booming voice made you wince but he was quick to turn his attention back to you and cup your face, “It’s gonna be okay. Just stay calm and stay still, yeah?” You stared at him, confused and your brain was too addled with pain to understand but you didn’t move. You listened to him, “I swear to God, altar boy. If you don’t get here now,” Frank snapped as he turned his head back.

Matt appeared in the doorway with annoyance written across his face. He was holding the first-aid kit and an icepack as he walked over. He offered the kit to Frank while he walked over to you with the ice pack.

“Matt?” You asked as you looked over at him. He was still mostly in his Daredevil suit. His hair was mussed from the helmet and his gloves were off but otherwise, the red material still covered him all over.

“Hey,” He said as he sat on the edge of the bed. Frank had already shoved your shirt up away from your stomach and was carefully removing the popped stitches. You suddenly could feel how the pain radiated from your stomach, wincing with every movement Frank made against your sensitive injury, “Does your face hurt?” He asked. You let out a garbled ‘yeah’ as you tried not to wince in pain. He placed the icepack against it, leaning into the relief (and Matt’s hand). Matt’s gaze then turned away from you, your eyes closed at the small bit of relief, “What happened?” He snapped. Frank was now threading the needle, ready to stitch you up again.

“Her stitches popped while she slept,” Frank snapped back as he glanced up at you. You looked so serene considering the pain you were in but he didn’t have time to think about that. Instead, he focused back on your bleeding wound and pinched the skin together, beginning to stitch it. Matt could hear your soft whimpers and smell the spikes of cortisol with every prick but there wasn’t much he could do to relieve you.

“Knew you didn’t do a good job,” You mumbled from where your head rested. The fact that you were still joking brought some relief to Frank but his shoulders were still ridged as he focused on keeping you better.

“You wouldn’t stop squirming so it was kinda hard,” Frank joked back in response. You rolled your eyes playfully before you looked up at Matt.

“It’s always my fault, huh?” The pain hit you like a wave and he watched as you cried out, back arching. The brief jokey tone that you had taken vanished in seconds, “Fuck,” You wailed. Matt’s other hand came to rest in your hair, smoothing his thumb along your hairline. Your eyes squeezed shut as Frank continued his stitches.

“Nearly done now,” Frank reassured as he was on his last stitch. He tugged the skin back together before sealing the stitches up. Once he was happy, he leaned over and grabbed a piece of gauze, taping it over the wound, “Do you want some pain meds?” He asked. You hummed out, meaning ‘yes’ and Frank slipped off the bed to grab the pain meds from the kitchen. That left you and Matt alone for a moment.

“Where were you last night?” You asked, forcing your eyes open to meet Matt’s unfocused gaze, “I was worried about you,” You muttered. Matt sighed and he shifted his hand on your temple down to your cheek.

“I had to keep patrolling to make sure nobody came after you. How are you feeling?” He asked as you let out little hisses and whimpers of pain. He knew it was a stupid question and he knew exactly how your body was feeling but it was more comforting to hear you say it.

“Like shit,” You muttered, “Can’t believe being friends with you got me into this.” There was a teasing lilt to your tone and Matt chuckled. Even with your eyes half-closed, you knew that Matt felt guilty. You knew that he was blaming himself for what happened but you had decided to associate with Daredevil. Matt gave you the chance to walk away and you didn’t. It was just as much your fault as his.

“I’m sorry,” He said. You scoffed and shifted on the bed.

“Pft, this is nothing. I was walking around last night,” You responded simply. Matt couldn’t help but crack a smile as Frank walked back in with the pain meds and a spoon. Matt took it as his moment to slide off the bed.

“I need to go to the firm. Talk to Foggy and Karen. Will you be okay here?” Matt asked. Matt tried to make it seem like he was asking if you’d physically be okay but you knew that he was asking if you were comfortable with Frank being here. Which, to you, was an incredibly stupid question but you knew Matt. He didn’t trust Frank like you did. So, you simply nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” You reassured. Frank let out a soft ‘uh-huh’, almost glaring at Matt before he walked over to the bed. He helped you slowly get to your feet as Matt grabbed his helmet from the kitchen. He listened to the two of you for a moment before he decided that you would be fine under the care of Frank, “Thank you, for taking care of me,” You muttered as you looked up at Frank. You could see him better now in the daylight. His crooked nose from being broken one too many times, angular jaw, gorgeous fucking lips. His face was a little bruised up but he still looked so pretty to you. A love-sick smile began to overtake your face as Frank poured out a spoon of painkillers for you.

When he looked back up, he caught the way you were looking at him. You looked so bashful despite how bruised up you were. He held the spoon out and you took some down.

“Altarboy is too worked up,” Frank stated and you chuckled, swallowing down the painkiller. You nodded but that made your headache split across your temples. You winced before resting your head back.

“He needs to get laid,” You stated plainly. Frank chuckled at that and he poured another spoon out for you, “He’s not the only one but that won’t be happening for a while,” You muttered, a little bitterly. Frank held the spoon out for you, “They could have at least let me finish my date before they kidnapped me.” Frank’s eyebrows furrowed as you took the spoonful of painkillers, swallowing down the pink liquid.

“That guy was an asshole,” Frank stated and you looked at him, head tilted to the side slightly, “Didn’t treat you right.” You were a little puzzled by his words but you tried not to think about it. The guy you’d gone on a date with hadn’t been your type anyway but it was still a bummer that you lost the opportunity. It could have ended in you finally getting laid but it seemed that the universe had other plans; getting you tortured. What a bitch.

“Find a man that treats me right in this city and I’ll never look back, scout’s honour,” You muttered. Frank rolled his eyes and he grabbed the ice pack from the side, placing it against your face.

“Yeah. I’m not makin’ that promise,” He said simply. You couldn’t help the playful grin that spread across your face.

“Frank Castle backing down? I never thought I’d see the day,” You teased. Frank just rolled his eyes before he got up to his feet. You pouted at the loss of contact, craving the warmth of his touch. It had helped distract you from the pain.

“I’ll make some breakfast,” Frank said before he headed out of the room. You pouted, not exactly pleased but your stomach grumbled for something. So, you let him disappear to cook something delicious for you.

<3

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

SET UP.

famous!readers back you guys and its angstier than ever.

Okay so I skipped dinner.

I physically couldn’t handle the expected awkwardness 

I lied and told him my manager needed to to talk me and it was urgent

He's a profiler you dumb bitch

Part of me feels bad, but it’s not like I don’t want to make amends with him and his team; it’s just that ever since I was a little girl, I’ve struggled with confrontation, and it’s followed me into adulthood. I know avoiding the issue won’t make it go away, and I’m fully aware that he probably sees right through my excuse. Still, the thought of facing him and his team, of having to explain myself and potentially deal with their disappointment, feels like too much to handle right now. It’s frustrating to be so paralyzed by something as simple as a conversation, but I’m hoping that with time and a bit of courage, I can find a way to address it.

Adding to my anxiety about confronting them is the lingering sting of how they treated me behind my back. I’d overheard them making fun of my singing and mocking my songs, which felt like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just the hurtful comments but the sense of betrayal from a group I had hoped would be supportive. The thought of facing them now feels like stepping into a hostile environment, where every word and gesture might be laced with judgment or ridicule. This makes my reluctance to confront the situation even more overwhelming, as the fear of being dismissed or belittled looms large.

On top of everything, I already feel incredibly insecure about being around Spencer’s team. Here I am, a singer trying to make a name for myself, while they’re FBI profilers, experts in their field, and it’s hard not to feel like my career is a joke in comparison. The stark contrast between our worlds—my creative, emotionally driven profession versus their analytical, high-stakes work—makes me question if I even belong in their presence. Every interaction feels like an unspoken judgment of my career choice, amplifying my insecurities and making me doubt whether my passion for music is taken seriously or just seen as a frivolous hobby in their eyes.

I then decide to go out to a party to self soothe God knows i need it, seeing all my friends 

Bella, gigi and ariana all my friends making it their duty to make me feel better about my current situationship

I then see a blonde, gorgeous woman walk into the club 

Its lila archer

No.

No.

Lila always secretly resented me, for what reason i'm not sure, but one thing i do know is that i'm not the problem lilas notorious for being a huge bitch to almost everyone she comes in contact with. Her fame getting to head 24/7 I truly want someone to shoot me if i ever turn out to be like her, so rude so dismissive so-

Wait whys she walking over here? Was i talking out loud???? 

“y/nnnnnnn???’’ she dreadfully drags out. ‘’ what are you doing here, everyone else told me youve been at home moping over a guy” voice FILLED with mockery terribly trying to be hidden with concern 

I finally get the courage to say something.

“ wow words get around fast i guess”

“ im here for you you know, if you ever need advice, like beauty advice, or just friend advice”

Oh. 

I already feel immensely insecure around her. her gorgeous eyes, body face, dating history

Before i can say anything back she chirps up and says

‘’ what is his name anyways? Wont spill the beans, promise.”

“Spencer.”

‘’ wow so I don't get a last name” she says and laughs, " that poisonous laugh will kill me one day.

‘“Reid.’’

I can see the knowing smirk forming on her face and i'm confused on whats humorous about his name

‘’ oh my god, you mean FBI spencer reid, that dirty dog just can’t get enough of the public eye girls can he, he sure does have a mouth on him though.’’

Fuck. my. Life. 

He said i was his  first girlfriend,

Im hyperventilating internally 

‘’ maybe you're thinking of someone else lila, spencer said i'm his first girlfriend”

‘’ Oh you probably are, we still had fun though, he saved my life. Of course I'd reward him for it.”

I swear the music in the club stopped when she said that

‘’ excuse me.’’

I say as i quickly power walk out the nightclub and into my car to go home

You might be asking why i'm freaking out so bad

Spencer told me we were each others first time.

I gave him my virginity thinking it was his first time too.

He lied.

He lied.

He lied.

[1d1195]

Physics Extra I

Read the rest here: Physics

Some great inspo from my 🌼-anon.

Hope you like it 💕

A little angsty, a little fluffy. Full disclosure--I'm not sure if I was tired or if I'm stupid, but I couldn't remember what year of college they were in and which Physics level they were in so I'm going to clarify here and I'll fix it later on. It shouldn't be too much of an issue. I left it a bit ambiguous if I remember correctly.

~2.5k words

Part of her worried this would happen. The flare of the savior complex paired with her insecurity finally won out. Time spent apart over break helped their budding relationship. It led to an unbelievably passionate reunion after the new year and return for the spring semester. The kisses from Harry’s lips on her mouth and trailing down her body made her warm just thinking about it and it was nearly a month—almost two—ago.

But now, Harry no longer needed a physics tutor. They didn’t have a class together. Fortunately, they did spend most nights together. Harry took her to parties and broke the hearts of every girl that had pined for him for so long. He walked her to class when he was free, and she met him at the gym just to say hi and run on the treadmill while he did his routines with his friends.

Niall and Louis were over every Saturday morning, hungover and whining for her pancakes before she went to the bookstore. Harry spent many nights in her apartment, snuggled around her and it felt so good. So unbelievably good.

She just couldn’t get her mind to agree that it was a good thing.

It was her own doing. How could she not know he would find out. It was exactly the kind of thing that happened in a rom-com or a sit-com or any comedy really. The irony of it all was not lost on her. She should have known.

For someone that studied Physics, balanced two campus jobs, and managed to have a boyfriend, she was an idiot.

*

Harry was at the gym again. It was either the gym or pacing the floor of his apartment. After a day of pacing and grumbling to himself, Louis insisted he leave and do something productive before he put a rut in their floor and lost their security deposit.

Studying was hardly his forte prior to dating her and now she wasn’t there to help him with the finer details of studying—like actually getting him to focus—he was a lost cause. Just being in her presence made it easier to focus. Like a little reminder that she was proud of him.

Thus, he was at the gym, the second time in the day. At the very least he would break his personal record twice in a day. The longer he stayed there, the worse his frustration got. His form was impeccable. Niall kept his eyebrows in a fixed uprise on his forehead. He whistled lowly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Do you know how stupid you’re being?”

“Inform me, please.”

“She’s the whole package, Harry. She’s smart, beautiful, funny, and I thought the pancakes were impressive, but the way she chugs a beer is honestly...” he chuckled. “I want my own tutoring lesson.”

Harry ignored him and made his way for the bench press. “Shut up,” he repeated.

“Harry, it’s ridiculous. You love her,” he reminded him.

“Spot me or shut up.”

Niall sighed. “If I don’t get pancakes soon, I’m going to lose it,” he warned Harry. It had been two weeks. They had barely spoken only murmuring hi when they bumped into one another. People ogled them before they started dating, now it only amplified.

“You’re a grown up, tell her y’want pancakes,” he muttered straining under the weight of his barbell.

“Christ, Harry,” he shook his head. “You’re a grown up. Talk to her.”

Harry did two reps and then his arms started to shake. It was too much for one day on top of the fact that without her help studying she was able to distract him here too.

“Why would she say that?” He murmured.

“Say what?”

“That...” he rubbed a hand over his face. His shirt was soaked with sweat. His scalp was itchy, he wanted to go home. Well, he really wanted to go to her place and lay with his head in her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. They would watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch and eventually Harry would wake up and carry her to her room where they would snuggle and dream until the morning. “That s’not serious.”

“Well...have you asked her to be your girlfriend?” Niall sat on the floor while Harry straddled the seat. Niall stretched.

“I thought it was implied when we spend every night together.”

“Harry, she’s a nice, sweet girl.”

“Thanks, Niall. I didn’t notice,” he rolled his eyes.

“Well,” he shrugged.

“Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Niall hopped up, grabbed their waters. “But I’m not gonna snuggle with you the way she does.”

*

“This is ridiculous, you know it’s ridiculous right?”

She was lying on the floor between the TV and the coffee table, facedown. An unintelligible groan went into the carpet, and she tilted her head up briefly and then smacked it back on the floor gently. “Fuck.”

“You could easily apologize,” Sarah told her.

“Why did I say that?” She groaned.

“It’s new! And Harry...”

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Harry’s been nothing but nice to me. He’s done nothing but shown me that he likes me and cares about me. I just ruined it. I humiliated him and I couldn’t even deny it. I feel so...bad. Who does that?!”

Sarah sat on her hips making her grunt. “You. You did that, you idiot.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Well, fix it!”

“Sarah,” she sighed and put hands on her eyes. “He’s never going to trust me.”

“Of course, he does. The only thing that’s going through that stupid head of his is that he hasn’t made you feel more secure.”

“But he did.”

“So tell him. It was a lapse in judgment. Alcohol. Tell him you had a cold. He won’t care. He just wants you to know you can trust him.”

“But I am so...not his type.”

“Well, hate t’break it to y’kitten,” she mimicked Harry’s accent and her nickname. “You are now.”

*

“So how did you meet Harry?” She knew the girl was drunk. She didn’t get her name. It was Shauna or Shayna, or something. She couldn’t remember. Instead, she sipped her own alcohol, glanced around to see Harry playing beer pong with Louis and Niall.

“Uh...” she swallowed. “We had Physics last semester. He needed tutoring.”

“Oh, that’s so cute!” But not-Shauna didn’t make it sound like it was cute. It was so condescending. It made her feel awkward and almost ashamed of how they met. She wished they had met at a party or a bar. Something more college-y—although what was more college-y than meeting in class?

“Uh...yeah, it was,” because it was. It was cute. The way Harry came up to her in the middle of the dining hall—it was out of a movie. He was handsome, perfect, and so nice to her. Even though she heard rumors and felt inadequate about the type of girl he normally surrounded himself with, it was undeniably cute. It was tragic she felt ashamed of their meeting.

“So how long is that?” Not-Shauna continued.

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been a couple, officially?”

It was innocuous. Four months. All she had to say was four months.

“Oh...well...we haven’t really discussed...” she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure of the exact date...” she looked at the contents of her cup. “I don’t think it’s been…” nothing was coming to the surface to explain what they were. Not accurately.

Four months.

That’s all she had to say.

She’d been studying physics for a while. Time dilation was something she only considered in movies and in theory. Einstein’s kind of thing. Not her thing. At a party when she was just asked how long she had been dating the man that spent five out of seven nights in her bed, wrapped around her...hell inside of her... was not a place for physics.

But somehow, the hours ticked by in place of the minutes. The carbonation of the soda water mixing with her vodka was moving in slow motion. It was like she could count every bubble that reached the surface and popped. “Oh, you’re not...official,” not-Shayna said.

Again, that condescension was so uncomfortable, she nearly dropped her drink. The time dilation started again. She was counting the bubbles. “Well, actually—” But not-Shayna was gone. The movie that was her life immediately turned into a horror film. “Oh no,” she mumbled to herself.

The minutes that were hours suddenly turned into seconds. Someone whispered something to someone else. The game of telephone sped by in seconds.

Harry missed his final pong shot. He whipped around to her, her cup halfway to her mouth. Her cheeks turned beet red. As red as the cup she sipped from.

Anger. Anger was an appropriate reaction. A fiery gaze, a flushed complexion. Even hands in fists were understandable for her faux pas.

Anger would have been preferable to the hurt expression on Harry’s sweet face.

*

After her shift at the bookstore, she was lying on the floor again. Sarah invited her to go shopping. But she couldn’t. Nothing seemed right. An idiot. That’s what she was. A Physics student with a 3.9 GPA and she was probably the dumbest person on campus.

There was a knock on her door. “Sarah, I cannot shop,” she groaned. “I’ll probably trip and fall in the food court and ruin some poor teen couple’s movie and dinner date and they’ll never live happily ever after because that’s all I do. Ruin a perfectly good couple.”

“Um... not Sarah,” she jumped off the floor. Laying down to standing in less than one second. She sprinted to the door and yanked it out of the way. “Hi,” Harry said softly.

“Hi,” she answered awkwardly.

“Can I... come in?”

She swallowed, opened the door wider, and moved out of the way. He hurried in, sat on the couch. It was like the first time Harry came over to help decorate. It was basically his spot. When everything made sense. She felt more at ease seeing him in her space again; making himself comfortable.

But comfort only lasted seconds because he looked… anxious. Which only fueled her anxiety.

He rubbed his hand on the back of his head and sighed. Dropped his hands into his lap. “I think we should talk, kitten.”

“I shouldn’t have said it!” She blurted. Her own pacing started. Her heart rate started to fly to a dangerous level. She was pacing in her floor spot that she designated for laying. “I don’t know what was wrong with me! Sarah told me to tell you it was a cold or the alcohol... or maybe I had a stroke. I don’t even remember what she said to tell you. But I don’t have a reason. Which is worse. I wish I had a reason, Harry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I should have said anything but what I said. You have made me so happy over the last four months,” she was still pacing looking like a psychopath. “You have made me feel so safe and so... loved and I don’t know why I had such a lapse in horrible judgment like that. I mean you made me a hot chocolate bar for God’s sake! You don’t mind studying and you don’t care that I drool like a teething infant when I sleep. Even when I get it all over your pillow or your shirt. I feel so terrible, Harry. So completely terrible. I don’t know how I can be so smart in class and make everyone jealous and then go and say that about you. Or not say! I don’t know what's wrong with me but—”

Harry was quiet while she rambled and paced. It was cute. Sweet even. It was nice to know she was rattled, selfishly—they both paced when upset. It was sweet. Cute to know they shared it. He smiled softly. “Do y'want t’be m’girlfriend?”

She stopped pacing, finally. Her heart finally slowed, she put a hand to her chest, like it would keep it slow as she looked at him squarely for the first time since she started ranting. “What?”

“Well,” his grin grew. He looked at his lap again, his palms rubbing on his thighs. “It might be easier on us both t’tell you I love you. Y’know...if y’were m’girlfriend. Might be easier on you t’answer that kind of question if y’had a date t’tell people of when we’ll have our official anniversary.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?”

He chuckled. “No,” he smiled. “Also have t’be officially together t’break up, kitten.”

“You’re not going to wait till I say yes and then ask to break up, are you?”

Harry stood finally, put his hands on her cheeks to hold her in place. He kissed her forehead for an extended moment. It felt so good. Like the other hundreds of times that he did it over the last few months. In two weeks, it felt like a drought. “M’sorry I didn’t reassure you,” he wrapped his arms around her body and instantly she sank into his embrace.

“Did you say you loved me?”

He nodded. “M’hmm,” he hummed.

“Oh.”

“Do y’want me t’take it back.”

“No, thank you.”

He chuckled into her hair. “S’very polite of you, kitten,” he pulled back. “I love you,” he repeated, gazing into her eyes. “Loved you the moment y’agreed t’help me. A poor, sorry, hopeless, Physics-less sap like me.”

“You’re not so hopeless.”

“M’hopeless ‘bout you, kitten,” he assured her.

“I love you too," she gazed up at him, her eyes wide, expressive and so very sweet, "by the way.”

“I thought s’what y’meant in all that rambling," he chuckled.

She didn't laugh. “I’m sorry Harry, truly. That was so not okay.”

Harry shrugged. “I jus’ missed you, kitten. S’okay. I get why y'said it. We never really defined it,” he promised. “M’sorry I didn’t ask sooner or come make up sooner.”

She sighed into his chest. “Will you stay tonight?” She asked quietly. Her voice muffled by his shirt. The thought of being snuggled together made her so happy.

Harry wanted to make a joke about inertia. Or an object at rest. Something. But it wouldn’t come. He was too happy to have made up.

“Try and stop me, kitten.”

“Niall and Louis make you come here?” She asked.

“M’supposed t’ask if you’ll make them pancakes for dinner once we’ve properly made up," Harry chuckled and murmured into her hair.

“What’s ‘properly’ mean?" She asked innocently, a smile on her face that was anything but innocent.

He chuckled. “I’ll teach you,” he winked, tilting her face so he could kiss her deeply; the way he wanted to for the last week and a half.

And teach her what ‘proper’ meant.

--

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[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (11): Love Me To My Bones

a/n: i promise one day john will sing blue skies. we are slowly but surely working our way towards that beautiful occasion. there is a lot of yearning and can you tell i am reading romance novels again moments in here but i will gladly rot my teeth and hope you all will. let me know how much or little you'd like to see of cass/harding with the brits. i am here to meet your needs, always. love you guys like you hang the stars !

Once her and John had regained control of their breathing and Cass control of her legs, they’d giggled like school children while cleaning up her office. This intimacy was a warmly welcomed change for them both. An escalation of the love he had already expressed to her and the commitment she had echoed back in kind. It felt validating that after baring her soul the night before he had still wanted her. That her acquiescence to the Colonel’s offer hadn’t swayed his desires. Over and over again she been met with the overwhelming feeling of being loved by John Egan. And everytime it felt amplified. Solidified. Sanctified. As if every time was building off the last resulting in a compounding level of love that left her dizzy.

John Egan was all encompassing. And she wanted him forever. Just the way he was.

“You’re really going to make me wait hours to see you again?” he whispered as they gently swayed in each other’s arms. “Can’t you come make Red look like an idiot for a little bit?”

“While the idea of upstaging him is incredibly appealing, I have to coordinate something with Mary for tonight.” She kissed him gently. “You’ll come by to zip me up?”

“Only because you promised I could unzip you after.”

“Three times in one day, Major. Make sure you eat some protein and drink some water. I’m not a fan of my lovers losing their stamina on me.” She kissed him once again and headed for the doors.

“How many lovers you got, Spook?” She thought about answering. Telling him that he was only the second man she had ever been with. If the first even counted as a man. But then would he feel inclined to give a number back? From all the whispers she had heard, she didn’t want to know what that number was.

“Not nearly as many as you, John. You don’t have to worry.” Cass tried to keep her tone teasing, tried to open the door and step back into the fray but his palm pushed the door shut before she opened it any more than an inch. 

“What does that mean?” He closed the distance between them and turned her around so they were chest to chest. “Cass, please tell me you don’t think about my past like that.” Like it was something for her to compare herself to. Like she was just another name on his list.

“I’ve only been intimate with one other person.” Her answer stayed like that. No true answer to what John had just asked. 

“And even if you’d been with none or a hundred, it wouldn’t change that I love you. That the connection we have is very important to me. Special, even.” Cass nodded.

“I know. But people talk, John. People talk about the you before you met me.” Bucky. The man who danced with all the pretty girls and kissed them before he left. Had gone even further outside in the grass once apparently. A version of him she’d seen glimpses of but not the full picture. Did he regret starting this thing with her? Regret putting that piece of him to rest?

“There is no me before you. Not anymore. Yes. I’ve had more than my fair share of…intimate moments with other women. But the version of me standing in front of you, Cassandra Ann, is not that man. The man in front of you loves you. Didn’t know what the word meant before you let alone the feeling.” He reached down and grabbed her hands and brought each finger to his lips individually. “I’m tethered to you, Cass. In a way I hope to one day be able to explain to you. But I never want you thinking, not for one second, that my life didn’t start that day on the air strip. When I saw you and fell in love with you and knew I was going to be yours forever before I even knew your name.” She pecked him quickly.

“I wasn’t expecting all that when I mentioned it, Johnny. Consider any doubt soothed.” Her hands rested on the side of his neck as his fingers locked around the small of her back. "You don’t ever need to try and articulate that feeling to me. I’ve got the key to translating it right here.” She placed his hand over her heart. John traced the tip of his finger up and down the front of her throat. 

“My puzzle piece,” he murmured. Cass smiled and rubbed her nose against his lovingly. 

“When we go out there, please remember you’ve taken my underwear. Shield me from the vultures,” she teased knowing her pencil skirt was plenty long enough to cover the scandalous bits. 

“How are they ever going to recover from seeing your bare, stocking-less legs?”

“That is also entirely your fault,” she mentioned with a furrowed brow. “Maybe I should ruin some of your clothing and have you prance around the secretaries' bullpen.”

“Mary would protect me. I’m certain.” 

“I’ll ask. And then pick my course of action accordingly.” John hummed in amusement and placed his palms on her cheeks. 

“As long as that course ends up right here,” he kissed her dramatically for effect,”then you pick away, baby.” Those three words were screaming in her chest. Crawling their way up her throat and trying to poke her lips out of the way. If she opened her mouth right now, she would say it. I love you. I love you, John. I’m in love with every last godforsaken inch of you and I want to love you like this until the day I die. Please don’t ever leave me. I won’t be able to continue on. Instead she smiled and stood on her tiptoes for another kiss. Her feelings tucked back into the corner of her heart that was reserved for John anyways. Underneath any other secret she may be keeping from him.

----

“Ma’am I am so incredibly sorry! I had no idea that he sent Eloise here for-” Cass held a hand out to steady Mary as she returned to her building, her secretary frantically trying to apologize for the ordeal with Harding that was now set to take place.

“Breathe, Mary, breathe. I am not upset with you. I know you would never participate in such a farce willingly. Eloise is not to blame either.” She pulled Mary into a hug. “I told the lovely Colonel that I don’t want him using you in his schemes ever again.” Mary smiled. Only Lieutenant Cooper had the guts to go toe to toe with a Colonel. Only she could come out of the fight victorious. Having someone like her in her corner, Mary was thankful every day.

“And what was the ultimate aim of his scheme this time?”

“He invited me to dinner with the Brits tonight. Said he used the information from Eloise to have a dress custom made for me to wear.” Mary disappeared behind her desk and lifted a box onto the top. It was large and wrapped with pink paper complete with a bow. 

“Left a note and everything,” Mary mused. Half of her had wanted to show it to Major Egan. Send him on the warpath towards Colonel Harding and see what fun that might stir up. But her more sensible half had won out and saved it for Lieutenant Cooper.

“Did you read it?” Mary nodded. “Do I want to read it?” She ripped it as an answer. “Perfect. Let’s go unpack this.” Cass set the offensive box on her bed and pulled the ribbon loose before ripping the paper and lifting the lid. It was a shade of lilac. Sleeves that would hit the middle of her upper arm and poofed slightly at the seam. A neckline that would show just enough of her collarbone to be considered tantalizing but not scandalous. She hated that she already knew it was going to look lovely on her. 

“Does Major Egan plan on stopping by?” Mary asked softly. Her own mind was whirring with the possible emotions the man was going to exhibit. 

“He does,” Cass whispered back, her eyes unable to look away from the dress. “I promised him he could see me before Harding. See me immediately after.”

“I see.” They were both studying the dress with an assessing gaze. Wondering that problems it may present for their future selves. 

“Maybe I’ll start by taking a shower. See if that can’t clear my head and offer me a better idea on what to do.” 

“Do you have any specific requirements for tonight? I could get started on your questioning plan,” Mary offered as she searched Cass’ closet for an empty wire hanger for the dress. 

“I haven’t quite decided yet which attendee will be my target,” she muttered back. “Maybe we brush up our targeting package on the British Colonel and go from there. I know enough about Harding that I can pin him without any research.”

“It’ll be ready when you are, ma’am,” Mary promised. She gathered the packaging from the dress in her arms and was back to her desk to get to work. 

Cass felt absolutely ridiculous as scrubbed at her hair and shaved her legs and used her sweet smelling soap all over her body. It was the same routine she would follow for any mission of this nature. A mission where she was expected to use her lilting laugh and eyelashes and every inch of forbidden skin to get what she wanted. It was on these nights she felt like an arrow being knocked by a hunter. Pointed in the direction that suited them best. Arced into the sky with a hope that it would hit its target and exact the killing blow. All with the hopes the victim never saw it coming. Never heard the truth behind her aim. Never felt the tip lodge between their ribs until she had already left.

As she ran the hairdryer over her head, she did her best to find that look in the mirror. The mask she always wore when she was tasked with an objective. The one she had worn in Berlin but shrugged as quickly as she could. She hadn’t really removed it since Berlin. Just for those moments between her and John in her room or in her office. Otherwise she had made sure it was firmly in place. Lest she break down again for all to see. The humiliation had been gut wrenching. And then there was her letter to her superiors. Asking if she could speak to the Foster family. Offer them closure from the last person to see their son alive. Their answer was quick. Someone called Mary from a secure line to tell her to tell Cass no. She had used the word ‘coward’ more than once in her rant to the secretary. 

The soft knock on the door was from the woman in question. “Lieutenant Cooper?” Cass clicked off the tool and looked at her with a steadying breath. “Major Egan is rather impatiently waiting for you in the foyer.”

“Alright. I’ll be out to ensconce him away in just a moment,” she promised. Mary offered her a soft smile before she was closing the door and steeling herself to deal with the handsome annoyance in the front of the building. She could hear the grumbling and the groaning coming from him as she carefully rolled her curlers into her hair. Did her best to focus as she heard footsteps approaching the door. Footsteps that were way too heavy to belong to Mary’s kitten heels. 

“Is everyone decent?” he called through the door. 

“I’m alone. You couldn’t just wait five minutes?” she asked with an exasperated tone as the door swung open and he appeared. 

“Nope.” The word popped out of his mouth with a distinct clarity and amused look. “Not when you’re the only thing that could calm my thoughts.” There was something dark and hollow inside of him whenever he thought about her spooky work. John would never be able to forget the way she looked in the sick bay after Berlin. The way she had crumpled into her arms and wept over the loss of her friend. He didn’t understand how Harding could ask her to suit back up so quickly but then again he had experienced the same relentless pace. Prepare, attack, debrief, prepare, attack, debrief and on and on until it became the only three things you knew how to do. 

“Calm your thoughts? What is causing them to race?” She set the curler onto the counter to offer him her full attention. 

“It’s only been a day, Cass.” Oh. So that is what this was about. 

“You don’t think I’m ready to get back into the real world? You didn’t seem to think I was fragile this morning when you fucked me on my desk.” It had always been an asset of hers that she was able to shut down her emotions and move on. Lock away that human part of her and just keep going forwards. Yesterday or the day before or any other day might as well be a different lifetime. Moving on was the only way for her to carry on. 

“I did not use that word,” he hedged as she started shoving things into a makeup bag angrily. “Just wanted you to know it’s okay to take some time. Okay to let the wound take time to heal.”

“There is no wound, John. The same way you get called to go back up there regardless of who was lost and what you saw the last time. The same way you answer the call and climb into the plane without even thinking about it. This is exactly the same thing.” It was then she noticed the flowers in his hands. Not the wildflowers like he normally brought her. They looked like they came from a proper florist. “What are those?” she whispered.

“I thought a lady such as yourself could recognize lilies when she saw them.” The longer he had thought about Cass going to this dinner with Harding, waltzing in on the arm of a Colonel in a dress he had tailor made for her, and then his mind had turned completely dark. The image of her family business in South Carolina and the banker she had been expected to marry. The debutante balls and afternoon tea socials. A world he was wholly inadequate to be a part of. He needed to try harder. For her. For the future he wanted for them. Be the man worthy of expressing her love to. 

“What happened to the wild flowers?” Cass appreciated the gesture. Could only imagine how hard these had been to find in the local town. But the wildflowers were special. Represented the land that brought them together. The spirit of freedom that she felt whenever she was around him. 

“I thought these were a bit nicer. For the occasion.” 

“Thank you.” She took them and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But the wildflowers…they make me feel like I get to keep a piece of my wild, Wisconsin man in my room or office while you’re away.”

“You deserve-”

“I am not even deserving of you, John.” Not after everything she had done. 

“I love you. You deserve the world. And I’m going to give it to you.” Even if it was bit by bit and piece by piece and took him a lifetime to deliver to her. He would spend his days offering these shards of life to her on bended knee. Only then would he feel deserving of the woman in front of him. 

“That sounds like it might take awhile, Major. Sure you want to be stuck with me that long?” He kissed her lips gently. 

“It’s all I could ever want.”

----

True to his request and her promise, it was John’s fingers that brushed the skin of her back, the zipper closing impeccably at the top.

“How’s it look?” Cass’ question was directed at Mary. John looked too stunned to speak. A mix of anger and worship swirling across his face.

“You look beautiful, ma’am,” she answered honestly. “I’ll go keep an eye out for the Colonel.” It translated to her offering them a moment alone before Cass was on her way.

“Well? Do you agree? Am I beautiful?” she asked with a teasing spin. The skirt flared in a perfect circle before resting back above her knee. 

His fingertips skirted over hers before tracing up her forearms and settling around her elbows. He used them to pull her flush against his chest where his nose took on the duty of urging goosebumps across her skin. “You just want me to look like a fool. Trying to find words to capture just how…splendid you look right now.”

“Splendid?” Her eyebrows rose as she locked her fingers behind his neck. “

“I asked Gale to help me think of some new words.” With a grin that could only be described as childlike, he pulled a piece of worn paper from his breast pocket. “Splendid, magnificent, spectacular…” His voice carried off as she giggled. 

“I’m surprised he didn’t just laugh at you.” In truth, John had been hunched over a piece of paper trying to write a poem for Cass. To say it was going horribly would be an understatement. Part of Gale had been screaming to tell John he didn’t need to resort to such trivial things to prove he was worthy of her. To keep her from running off with Colonel Harding. That everybody within a hundred mile radius knew exactly who each of them belonged to. No questions asked. But the other part of him had thought the show of devotion was worthy of being nurtured. Knew John hadn’t felt this way, not even close, ever before. Probably never would again. Knew that Cass had been the greatest influence on his friend even in their short time of knowing each other. Helping the budding romantic couldn’t hurt. 

“I think he’s rooting for us,” he whispered in her ear like it was the greatest secret of mankind. 

“I think Mary is too,” she whispered against his cheek before pressing her lips to the skin there. 

“Guess we better not fuck it up.” A grin spread across her face that he matched as she kissed at the corner of his lips, his mustache tickling her lovingly. “I’m sorry for ever questioning you.”

“I’m sorry for thinking it meant you doubted me.” 

“I just want you to be safe and taken care of. Make sure you know someone is looking out for you.” Love was screaming in her chest at his admission. Wasn’t this exactly what love was? Putting another’s well being before your own? 

“Thank you.” She chose the simple words to offer him. Relished in the way his eyes fluttered close as their foreheads rested against each other. 

“I don’t want to let you go.” He wanted her all to himself. Wanted this version of her, this prim and proper version, to be for him and him alone. Reclaim that piece of her Landry had taken away. Hold her while she learned to love it all over again. 

“One day, you won’t have to. I promise.” She couldn’t promise that one day would come soon That they would survive the end of the war and live their happily ever after. But she could promise him that when it did, she would be there with open arms and a full heart ready to love him until the light in her eyes was extinguished.

“Ma’am, Colonel Harding is here for you.” Mary had held him off as long as she could.

“A kiss for good luck?” Cass requested with her toes tipped and lips puckered.

"You don’t need luck,” he kissed her anyway. “How about another one outside for the good Colonel to witness?”

“Don’t go riling anybody up,” she cautioned as she took his arm and he began to escort her out to the waiting Jeep. “As much as it annoys us, I still have to spend the entire night with the man.” John shortened his strides to keep pace with her, going so far as to carry her purse and gloves on the arm she wasn’t gripping. A younger version of him might have guffawed over the image of the pilot carrying a patent leather handbag and white silk gloves. But he supposes the younger version of him would not have been able to look away from the woman on his arm long enough to notice. He was proud of the man he was today. Right there in that moment. Achieved his dreams of becoming a pilot and serving his country and leading men towards an aim that was worthy of it. Found a girl so special she was worth risking everything for. Worth loving so fully that he wanted to scream it out the window of his B-17 so the wind could carry the news to every corner of the world. He hoped his father was looking down, just as proud. Hoped his sisters wouldn’t try too hard to scare her off when they met her. Hoped his mother would love her as much as he did. 

“Lieutenant, you look beautiful this evening.” He had thought about calling her Cassandra, kissing the top of her hand in a sweeping bow but decided against it because of the way the younger Major was looking at her. The look of a man who would know no boundary in defending her. 

“Thank you, Sir. The dress is lovely.” Cass smiled genuinely and took her accessories from John when he offered them. “This is where we say goodbye,” she whispered. He dropped a kiss to the top of her nose and pulled her closer by the small of her back.

“I love you,” he said like a promise, “knock them fucking dead, Spook.”

“I’ll find you as soon as I get back.” She kissed him once more before untangling herself from his hold, his hand wrapping around hers and not letting go until the distance made it impossible for him to hold on any longer. He watched her go with a bittersweet smile. Happy she could have a night of luxury, whatever version of it this place could offer, and a pang of disappointment he wasn’t the one delivering it to her. 

Cass settled into the passenger seat of the Jeep and waved softly to John as Harding started the car and they were off. Tearing her gaze away from his slowly disappearing silhouette took all her effort but she managed after a few moments.

“Love? Quite the declaration in a time like this.”

“He means it too,” she muttered back as she focused on the scenery passing by them.

“You didn’t say it back.” Cass scowled at him and hoped the cold in her gaze would slice right through his offensive comment and draw blood from his skin. 

“Mind your own business, Colonel.”

She managed to stay silent the rest of the drive to the restaurant where they were meeting his counterpart, her mask slipping over her face with ease. 

“Lieutenant-”

“Get in, get out. I won’t get in your way as long as you don’t get in mine.” If he wanted to, he could scold her for talking to a superior officer that way. But, God, did he love that fire in her eyes right now. “Does that work for you?” she asked. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He even tipped his cap. “Shall we?” He offered her his arm and she assessed it for just a moment before gingerly taking it. It didn’t feel like the final piece of a puzzle on a rainy day. The moment in a novel where your every question is answered. The sound of recognition when you see an old friend. 

It felt like a mission. A requirement. A gap she was being tasked to fill. The motions were easy for her. She thought it would be hard after Will but maybe getting back in the mix was exactly what she needed. 

She thought of John as she walked into the restaurant, thought of him as she always did. Thought for all his loveliness at seeing her in this dress, she didn’t want him to see that the person she would become while in it. What the name Spook truly meant. How she became the word without a second thought. This was a piece of her she would always choose to keep from him. 

Cass flicked her curls over her shoulder as the British officer approached, his eyes zeroing in on her bare shoulder with no desire to constrain his hunger at all.

Yes. She’d keep this hidden indeed.

[the-barba-files]

A Storm Of Attraction (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Part two

______________________________________________________________

The verdict had been delivered—guilty on several counts. Y/N felt the weight of disappointment settle in her chest for her client, a crushing reminder of the stakes they faced in their respective roles. Across the courtroom, Rafael Barba stood with a smirk of satisfaction etched on his face, a testament to his relentless pursuit of justice. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that crackled between them, even amidst the courtroom's somber atmosphere.

Days passed, and the trial felt like a distant memory, yet the magnetism between them lingered like a storm waiting to break. Y/N tried to push Rafael from her mind, burying herself in her work and her relationship with her boyfriend, Mark. He was solid, dependable, and everything she thought she wanted. Yet every time she caught sight of Rafael’s dark eyes or heard his voice, the ground beneath her felt a little less stable.

One evening, Y/N found herself at a bar after work, trying to unwind from the pressures of the day. The dim lighting and soft chatter created a cozy atmosphere. She settled onto a barstool, ordering her usual drink, hoping to lose herself in the rhythm of her surroundings. But as she turned to glance around, her heart sank at the sight of Rafael entering the bar, looking effortlessly charming in a fitted shirt and jeans.

“You again,” she said when he sauntered up beside her, feigning annoyance but unable to mask the flutter in her stomach.

“Did you think you could escape me?” he replied with that infuriatingly charming smirk. “It seems fate has other plans.”

“Fate or coincidence?” she shot back, attempting to maintain her composure.

“Either way, it’s nice to see you.” He leaned casually against the bar, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface. “What are you drinking?”

“Something strong,” she replied, meeting his gaze. “I need it after today.”

“Fair enough. How about I buy you the next round? We could call it a truce for the evening.” His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper—a challenge, a dare.

“Truce? With you?” she scoffed, though the idea intrigued her. “That’s rich.”

“I know you’re more fun than you let on, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, the scent of his cologne mixing with the heady atmosphere of the bar. “You’re just too busy pretending.”

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks, a mix of frustration and thrill. “Pretending?”

“Sure. You have a boyfriend, but there’s something between us. We both feel it.” His gaze was unwavering, daring her to deny it.

Y/N’s heart raced at the accusation. “I’m not pretending. I have a life outside of this—outside of you.”

“And yet here we are,” he replied smoothly, gesturing around them. “Two people drawn together despite the chaos.”

She could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull that seemed to thrum in the air between them. “It’s complicated,” she finally managed, forcing herself to look away.

“Complicated doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” he countered, his voice low and steady.

Y/N bit her lip, weighing her options. The music in the background shifted to The 1975’s “Sex,” and the lyrics wrapped around them like a spell, amplifying the tension.

Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the spell. It was Mark, checking in to see when she’d be home. Guilt flooded through her, and she looked up at Rafael, who was watching her with keen interest.

“I have to take this,” she said, stepping away from the bar.

As she answered, her heart raced—not just from her boyfriend’s message but from the reality of her situation. Mark’s voice was warm and familiar, pulling her back to the life she had built. But as she hung up, her thoughts turned back to Rafael, the way his eyes seemed to see right through her defenses.

Returning to the bar, she found Rafael waiting, a mix of curiosity and concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just… life stuff,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

He regarded her for a moment before nodding. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. We’re more than just opponents in the courtroom.”

Y/N felt a rush of frustration mixed with desire. “Rafael, you don’t understand. I’m committed to someone else. I can’t—”

“I’m not asking you to leave him,” he interrupted, his voice firm yet inviting. “But you can’t deny there’s something here. Something real.”

Her heart raced as she looked into his eyes, the connection between them palpable. “This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither did I,” he replied, stepping closer. “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

As the song continued to play, enveloping them in its seductive rhythm, Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge. She wanted to push him away, to maintain the walls she had built, but the attraction was intoxicating.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here,” she murmured, but the words felt empty.

“Maybe you should have,” he countered softly. “I see you, Y/N. I know you’re not just a defense attorney. You’re passionate, smart, and full of fire. I want to know you better.”

Just as she was about to respond, her phone buzzed again—another message from Mark. The reminder of her life outside of this moment brought her crashing back down to reality.

“Rafael, I can’t keep doing this. I need to go,” she said, stepping back, her heart pounding.

He watched her with a mixture of frustration and understanding. “You’re afraid. But you can’t deny that this—whatever it is—exists.”

She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. “I have a boyfriend. I can’t—”

“Then why can’t you stop thinking about me?” he challenged, his eyes locking onto hers, unyielding.

Y/N felt a wave of heat wash over her, the line between desire and duty blurring dangerously. “This isn’t fair,” she whispered, tears threatening to spill.

“Maybe it isn’t,” he replied softly, stepping closer once more, “but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her heart pounding in her chest. The pull was undeniable, but the consequences felt too heavy. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she felt lost in a storm of emotions, torn between loyalty and desire.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension between them only escalated. Every time they met in court, it felt as though they were playing a game where the stakes were higher than either had anticipated. Their encounters were laced with double entendres, charged glances, and unspoken words that hung in the air like the remnants of a thunderstorm.

One evening, Y/N found herself at a coffee shop, trying to shake off the weight of her thoughts. As she sat there, lost in her mind, she spotted Rafael entering, his expression relaxed and unguarded.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said, sliding into the seat across from her without invitation.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” she shot back, attempting to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Maybe I’d rather be here, with you,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Rafael…” she started, but he interrupted.

“Just hear me out. We’ve been dancing around this for too long. I know you have a life outside of this, but what about what’s happening between us?”

Y/N felt a shiver of excitement run through her, but she fought against it. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t—”

“Can’t or won’t?” he pressed, leaning closer, his voice low. “You’re afraid of what this could be, but maybe it’s worth the risk.”

As they spoke, the music playing in the background shifted again, underscoring the moment with an almost cinematic quality. Y/N felt her resolve beginning to crack, the thrill of the unknown pulling her in.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked, trying to understand the depth of his feelings.

“Because I see you, Y/N. And I want to know you, all of you—not just the lawyer in court. You’re more than that, and it’s a shame you don’t see it,” he replied earnestly.

Y/N felt her heart flutter. She wanted to deny him, to hold onto the safety of her relationship with Mark, but the truth was undeniable. “I do see you, Rafael. But I also see the consequences. I can’t hurt Mark.”

“Mark may be a good guy, but what about you? What do you want?” His gaze was unwavering, filled with intensity.

Before she could answer, her phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Mark. Her heart sank as she looked at the screen. “I have to take this,” she said, her voice shaky.

Rafael nodded, his expression shifting to something softer, understanding her turmoil. As she stepped outside to take the call, she felt a mixture of relief and regret. Mark’s voice brought her back to reality, but as she ended the call, the weight of the conversation with Rafael pressed heavily on her mind.

When she returned, Rafael was still waiting, his demeanor calm but expectant. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just checking in,” she replied, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said gently ____________________________________________________________ Left it a bit on a cliff hanger, please forgive me <3

[anzynai]

Hello :D

I heard requests were closed but available for twisted wonderland 👀

If you don't mind, could you do Jamil and Kalim having a big tickle fight? :3

Have a nice day/night!~☆

-🍓

Bugs

Kalim & Jamil (Twisted Wonderland)

a/n: IM WRITING THIS SO FAST HELPP IM IN A HURRY but this was supposed to be a drabble but then i was like “wait i can turn this into a fic” so here i am. it was a bit hard characterizing them but i hope i did it okay! ANYWAYSSSS enjoy <33

summary: there’s a bug on jamil. thankfully, kalim is there to save the day!

word count: 1.2k

——

It had been a relatively normal afternoon in the Scarabia dorm. Kalim and Jamil were together in Kalim’s room doing their homework. Or more so, Kalim attempting to do his homework and Jamil watching to make sure that the housewarden didn’t get distracted every two seconds. In any case, it was routine for the two of them. What happened next, was not.

“Kalim, focus—” Jamil started, but cut off suddenly when he saw something small fly across the room in the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to the right, the direction he saw it go. But before he has the chance, it zoomed past him again and he got a clearer view. It’s very much a bug and it’s going right towards him! He flinched and swatted, trying to shoo it away, but it apparently didn’t work because he felt it land. On him.

There’s a bug. There’s a BUG on me. Right now!! Jamil thought to himself, panic seeping deep into his bones.

“Get it off..!” Jamil shrieked embarrassingly, shaking his body with no sense of precision or direction whatsoever, while Kalim tried to swat the bug off of him.

“Stay still! I’ll get it for you!” Kalim shouted, determined to help, but Jamil couldn’t do anything but stay still when he felt it begin to move.

He barely suppressed a gasp and a giggle, feeling a ticklish sensation on his spine, as Kalim scurried his hands over the vice housewarden’s body, trying to catch the nimble critter.

“I got it!” Kalim exclaimed, at last, holding a small beetle in his hands. He brought it over to the window, so that it could be free… somewhere else… away from them and off of Jamil.

A sigh of relief escapes Jamil, his racing heart slowing down. Then, just as he let his guard down, Kalim jumped up.

“Wait, I think there’s another one!” Kalim gasped, faux shock on his face. Normally, Jamil would have pointed out that Kalim was a terrible liar, but with his nerves on edge, he was not willing to take his chances in the scenario that Kalim was being truthful. A bug was a bug, afterall, and he does not mess around about bugs.

Instead of flailing, however, he stiffened. He took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as he could as he tried to remind himself that Kalim was probably just joking… right?

“Is there really a bug?” He said, slowly and carefully, making sure his breath doesn’t waver.

“It’s right there!” And before Jamil can say anything, Kalim squeezes his sides, which tells the servant that his reaction to Kalim touching him seconds before did not go unnoticed.

“W-wahahahahat?!” Jamil giggled, too incredulous to think straight.

“Stop moving! I’m trying to get it off!” Kalim said, but the smile on his face shows otherwise.

“Y-youhuhu liahahahar!” Jamil clamped his arms down to his sides and if anything, that seems to amplify the sensations. Curse him for being so damn ticklish.

“Fineee, you got me! Can’t I just make my best friend laugh?” Kalim shrugged as he used his fingers to poke and prod any part of his body that he could touch. It made Jamil feel as though he was losing his mind as the seconds dragged on.

Without thinking, Jamil reached over to pinch Kalim’s sides. Although they had many tickle fights (with Kalim nine out of ten times being the one to start it), Kalim still seemed unprepared when Jamil decided to fight back.

“Hehehey! I’m tihihickling y-you!” Kalim laughed, his movements faltering.

“This is what you deserve…!” Jamil cried, a half-hearted glare painting his features. Switching the roles found him straddling Kalim as he tickled the housewarden’s sides. Kalim moved his hands from Jamil, instead trying to push at his arms.

“Ahahahaha!” Kalim giggled, a blush taking over his face.

“Not so funny now, huh?” Jamil teased, a smirk on his lips as he began squeezing Kalim’s hips.

“Y-ouhuhu hahahaven’t won yehehet!” Kalim declared, newfound determination in his tone as he lifted his hands towards Jamil’s armpits, squeezing the particularly sensitive flesh. Jamil’s arms clamped down, his tickling weakening. Still, with Kalim underneath him, Kalim continued to scribble around Jamil’s armpits, both of them laughing all the while.

“Stahahap!” Jamil squealed, trying to get the advantage over Kalim again by also going over a spot he knew would give a good reaction from Kalim. His thighs. It was at a bit of an awkward angle, with the positions the two were in, but the vice housewarden was nothing if not good at adapting to.. less than favorable circumstances.

“Wahahahait, nohoho!” Kalim shrieked, kicking his legs. His face was flushed and there was a shocked grin on his face.

“Where’s that cockiness from before?” Jamil let a smirk slip onto his face, feeling confident that he had now gotten the upperhand.

“Nohoho, stahahap! I’m sohahahahorry!” Kalim giggled, bubbly and happy, despite his protests. He wasn’t even fighting much. Not that Jamil was surprised, Kalim had said himself before that he didn’t mind being tickled.

“Sorry? Do you think that’s enough when you said there was a bug on me to tickle me?”

“Nohoho, Jahahamil!” Kalim exclaims, bright. Jamil starts kneading into his stomach, tracing and scribbling along the other’s sensitive skin. The shirt he was wearing offered some protection, he was sure, but not enough.

“So ticklish.. I can’t believe I hadn’t gotten the upperhand sooner. Luck, I guess,” Jamil teased as Kalim curled up, scrunching his neck and shaking his head back and forth. It looked.. a little silly.

“Nuh-uhuhhh! You’re suhuhuper tihihicklish, toohoho!” Kalim tried to say more, but as laughter consumed him, his words died out pitifully.

“Are you sure about that? I’m winning, afterall,” Jamil asked, as he dipped a finger into the other’s belly button, relishing in the howl Kalim let out.

“NAHAHAAH. JAHAHAMIL!” It seemed he was starting to near his limit. Kalim let out a deep breath, but that only resorted in a snort and Jamil didn’t even have to think about how cute and funny it was before Kalim was shouting again. “Y-youhuhu WIHIHIN! YOU WIHIHIN!”

At those words, Jamil stopped and allowed the housewarden to catch his breath, residual giggles leaving his lips every so often.

“Man… and I really thought I was gonna get you that time,” Kalim whined after a few moments, kicking his legs in a pout.

Jamil snickered. “With your sensitivity? As if.”

“I mean,” Kalim sat up, staring at the other. “You gotta admit, you’re pretty ticklish too. I was close this time.”

Jamil coughed into his hand.

“..You wish.” He tried not to blush. Ugh, he hated when people mentioned how ticklish he was. When they did that, he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true.

“Next time!” Kalim declared, pumping a fist into the air, a resolved and serious look on his face.

Jamil only let out a long and audible sigh. “Hopefully, there won’t be a next time.” He pressed a palm to his forehead, pinching in between his eyebrows, slightly feeling phantom tingles on his body.

“Haha!” Kalim only laughed at that before Jamil stood up and handed him his worksheets.

“Come on, you still have to finish your homework,” Jamil said, intending to change the subject quickly. Kalim groaned, falling back to the ground.

“Ughhh, I forgot about that…”

And so, the night was followed with lots of math equations, alchemy procedures, and yeah, tickles.

[gt-supernova-art3mis]

Chapter 5: A “Shocking” Turn of Events

Author's Note/Update: thank you for all the support for this story cause it's literally my first g/t story ever. In honor of me finally finishing all my finals for this semester (my last one was today at 5pm), here is the long awaited next chapter! As of rn, this is all I have that's prewritten, so you'll have to give me time to come up with future chapters! (also fair warning, this is not edited)

first || previous || next

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Just as Airlea processed Liu Kang’s words, her gaze fell to her tiny feet, and a sudden realization hit her. If they were about to leave—especially at the speed Liu Kang was moving—there was no way she’d be able to keep up.

She called Johnny’s name causing him to glance down. “I, uh, hate to break it to you, but if we’re going anywhere fast… I’m gonna need a lift. There’s no way I’m getting there on my own.”

Johnny’s face lit up as if she’d just given him the best news he’d heard all day. “Wait—are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His grin widened mischievously, excitement practically radiating off of him. “You want me to carry you again?”

Airlea rolled her eyes with a small smirk. “Well, it’s either that or you leave me behind, and let’s be real—I'm not risking getting stomped on.”

Johnny didn’t need another word. In an instant, he swooped her up, cradling her in his hands like she was a VIP guest on his latest movie set. “Boom—front-row seat to all the action. Now, this is even better than the movies! Who else can say they’ve got a size-shifter sidekick?”

“You know you’re enjoying this way too much, right?” Airlea teased, though she couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

“Hey, what can I say? I’ve always been good at lifting spirits—and apparently, tiny people.” He winked, giving her a playful bounce in his hands as he jogged to catch up with Liu Kang.

“Just don’t drop me, Cage, or we’re gonna have a problem,” Airlea warned, her voice carrying a mock seriousness.

“Are you kidding? You’re in good hands—literally!” Johnny beamed, holding her closer as they prepared for whatever danger lay ahead. "Plus, if Shang Tsung shows up, I’ll just throw you like a ninja star. It’ll be awesome!”

Airlea chuckled, shaking her head. “You throw me at anyone, and I swear, I’ll make sure your next red carpet is a disaster.”

“Noted.” Johnny winked as he jogged to catch up with Liu Kang, who was waiting by the door.

As Johnny jogged down the path, Airlea felt the familiar rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of vulnerability. At her tiny size, the world around her seemed enormous, every sound amplified, every movement a new adventure. With each step Johnny took, she had to hold on tight to the fabric of his shirt, her little fingers gripping the material like it was a lifeline. The rhythmic sway of his shoulder felt like riding a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all.

“Hey, are you okay up there?” Johnny called out, glancing up at her with an amused expression.

“Yeah! Just… hold on a second!” she laughed, feeling the world sway beneath her as he ran. “It’s a little bumpy up here!”

“Bumpy? Come on, this is a smooth ride!” he teased, adjusting his stride to be a bit steadier for her sake. Airlea appreciated the effort, though the motion still made her feel like she was on a ship navigating choppy waters.

As they approached a clearing, Liu Kang stood waiting, his presence commanding under the moonlit sky. He focused intently, channeling his energy as he prepared to open a portal. “We don’t have much time,” he said, his voice steady and serious. “We need to get to the Shaolin Temple so you all can train.”

With a flourish, Liu Kang opened the portal, and a swirling mass of energy erupted before them, shimmering like a mirage. Airlea peered into the glowing vortex, the colors shifting and pulsating, making it look like a gateway to another world. The air buzzed with anticipation.

“Ready?” Johnny asked, glancing back at her.

“Just don’t drop me!” she replied, laughter bubbling in her throat. She felt both exhilarated and terrified at the prospect of stepping through the portal, but with Johnny’s reassuring presence, she felt more courageous.

“Never!” Johnny declared, carefully positioning her to hold on as he took a step toward the portal. “Let’s do this!”

With one last look at Liu Kang, who nodded his encouragement, Johnny leaped through the portal, Airlea clinging to him tightly as they were engulfed in a kaleidoscope of light and sound. The sensation was surreal—like being wrapped in a whirlwind. She felt the rush of wind against her face, her heart pounding with every beat.

When they emerged on the other side, the vibrant colors faded to reveal the serene landscape of the Shaolin Temple, surrounded by majestic mountains and ancient trees. Airlea looked around in awe, the temple’s stone structures towering over her, their intricate carvings a testament to the artistry and history that thrived here.

“Welcome to the Shaolin Temple,” Liu Kang said, his voice echoing with pride. “This is where you will learn to harness your abilities and find your strength.”

time skip (it doesn’t specifically say, so for this story we’ll say a few months)   - 

As the sounds of monks training echoed through the temple grounds, Airlea perched on Johnny’s shoulder, feeling the vibrations of his every step as he strode across the courtyard. The sharp thwack of wood being hit and the soft sifting of sand underfoot filled the air, mixed with the unmistakable clash of Raiden sparring with the warrior monks nearby. Airlea watched in awe as Raiden’s lightning-fast movements struck through the training dummies with precision.

“That is not a good idea,” Raiden said, his calm tone belying the intensity of his movements.

“It is genius, Raiden,” Kung Lao countered, confidently. “The next time we see Sub-Zero, I will have to thank him for inspiring it. Ow!”

Raiden didn’t miss a beat. “See? It won’t be effective.” He tossed his hat, and it sliced effortlessly through another training dummy. “Maybe it’s too effective.”

Johnny shook his head with a grin, feeling Airlea tighten her grip. “You seeing this? Kung Lao’s getting schooled by his own trick,” he whispered to her. Airlea couldn't help but smile, though her focus was split between the fight and holding on.

“We just need to get on with it. We’ve been cooped up here for months. I can’t base a cinematic universe on Outworld’s monsters and magic if I don’t ever see them.”

“That’s why you’re here?” Kenshi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Johnny nodded. “Liu Kang said this gig would change the arc of my life. That’s how it gets done. My ex’ll rue the day she gave up on me. Plus I’m here for Tiny Tim over here too.”

Kenshi smirked. “So selfless.” Airlea rolled her eyes at the new nickname, even if she’d tell him not to call her that, he’d do it anyways.

“Oh please, Tattoo. You’re just here to get your sword back.”

Raiden, ever the mediator, stepped in. “We all have our reasons for being here. Some better than others. But we are not here to fight among ourselves. We are here to fight for Earthrealm.”

The low ring of a gong echoed through the courtyard, catching everyone’s attention.

“It’s about damn time,” Johnny muttered.

Liu Kang entered, his expression as steady as always. “And today one of you will be chosen to fight for Earthrealm at the tournament.”

Raiden frowned. “Only one of us, Lord Liu Kang? Isn’t Outworld fielding several champions?”

Liu Kang nodded. “The tournament’s rules give the host realm that advantage. And it is Outworld’s turn as host.”

Johnny, always curious, asked with a laugh, “You know, I don’t know why I’ve never asked this, but... uh… what’s our record at this tournament?”

Liu Kang’s voice was calm but firm. “Earthrealm and Outworld have long been evenly matched. But Outworld is gaining strength. Should it win, its more militant factions will be emboldened.”

“I thought you admired Outworld,” Raiden said, raising an eyebrow.

“It is a place of great knowledge, wealth, and beauty. But our realms do not share goals and beliefs. We coexist peacefully because Outworld respects our strength. Should we show weakness… our rival will become our enemy.”

“I will not lose, Lord Liu Kang,” Kung Lao said confidently.

“First, you must win the right to represent us. Whichever one of you outlasts the others will be chosen. Raiden, step forward.”

Johnny chuckled, shifting slightly so Airlea wouldn’t lose her balance. “Good call. Call the weak first.”

“You shall face him, Johnny Cage.”

Kenshi smirked. “Ready for your close-up?”

Johnny puffed his chest out, full of bravado. “All right, let’s do this. But remember, farm boy, I’m a global martial arts icon. I don’t think you can handle this much boom.”

Raiden, ever calm, replied, “I am ready, Johnny Cage. My mind and spirit fight as one.”

Before Johnny stepped up to fight, he looked to Airlea, still on his shoulder, and grinned. “Hey, tiny fan, I’m about to knock Raiden out of his sandals. Need to stash you somewhere safe.”

He reached for his pocket, but Airlea, already wary, held up her hands. “Oh no. Not again. You are not stuffing me in your pocket.”

Johnny hesitated, then looked at Kenshi with a mischievous grin. “Hey, Kenshi, can you watch her while I fight?”

Airlea crossed her arms, giving Johnny a look. “That ain't happening either. Just put me down, Cage.”

Johnny sighed dramatically, setting her down gently on a nearby ledge. “Alright, alright, down you go. But don’t say I didn’t offer you front-row seats.”

As Johnny stepped up to face Raiden, Airlea settled herself on the ledge, legs dangling over the edge as she watched intently.

The fight between Johnny and Raiden was quick, with Raiden's skills clearly overpowering Johnny's flashy moves. After Raiden’s victory, he stepped back and offered Johnny a respectful bow.

“This fight was an honor,” Raiden said.

Johnny, never one to lose gracefully, responded with a cocky grin. “You’re welcome.”

After Johnny's defeat at Raiden’s hands, he slowly picked himself up from the ground, brushing off his ego as much as the dirt on his pants. Airlea, sitting comfortably on the nearby ledge, couldn’t resist.

"So, that was the knockout you were so confident about?" Airlea quipped, crossing her tiny arms with a smirk. "Big talk, Cage. What happened to ‘too much boom’?"

Johnny, still rubbing his sore jaw, shot her a half-hearted glare but grinned. “Yea, yea, tiny fan. Everybody’s a critic.” He stepped over to her, scooping her back up and placing her on his shoulder with ease. “Let’s just pretend I let him win, okay?”

Airlea held on tight as she settled back into her spot, chuckling softly. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as Kenshi stepped forward to take his turn, the sarcasm still hanging in the air between them.

Liu Kang moved the match along. “Kenshi Takahashi, you are next.”

Kenshi, drawing his blade, looked at Raiden. “You have skills, Raiden, but you’re inexperienced.”

Raiden kept his composure. “Whatever experience I lack, I make up for in heart.”

Kenshi’s smirk widened. “It’s nerve, not heart, that wins fights. I should know. I’ve been in hundreds of them.”

Once again, Raiden triumphed, his victory earning a respectful nod from Kenshi.

“Do you still question my nerve?” Raiden asked.

Kenshi shook his head. “I do not. Yours was a well-earned victory.”

Liu Kang approached the group. “You may rest, Raiden. This evening you will face your final opponent.”

Johnny, still recovering from his earlier defeat, smirked. “Fifty bucks says Kung Lao wins.”

Kenshi chimed in with a challenge. “Make it interesting. Bet me Sento.”

Johnny shook his head with amusement. “Ha! Not on your life.”

Liu Kang turned back to Raiden and Kung Lao, his tone grave. “Raiden. Kung Lao. The winner of this match will represent Earthrealm against Outworld. It is a grave duty, not to be undertaken lightly. You may step back now and suffer no dishonor.”

Raiden, resolute, stepped forward. “I choose to fight, Lord Liu Kang.”

Kung Lao, ever confident, nodded. “As do I.”

“Then may the best person win,” Liu Kang said.

Kung Lao laughed, readying his stance. “Concede, Raiden. You have never beaten me. That won't change today.”

Raiden stood tall. “No? If the monks have taught us one thing... it's that the only constant in the universe is change.”

The fight was intense, but Raiden, true to his growing strength, finally bested Kung Lao.

“There is a first time for everything, Kung Lao,” Raiden said, offering him a respectful nod.

Liu Kang, impressed by Raiden’s display, stepped forward. “Although you have all trained well, Raiden has excelled. This outcome does not surprise me.”

Kung Lao, still in disbelief, managed a respectful nod. “How could I have… Congratulations, Raiden.”

“For the tournament, you will need this,” Liu Kang said, his hands glowing with electricity as he summoned forth an ancient relic. “Forged by the Elder Gods, it gives the wearer power over lightning and thunder. Go ahead. Try it.”

Airlea watched from Johnny’s shoulder, amazed by Raiden’s growth and the weight of what was about to come. Though she had chosen not to fight, she felt an unexpected pride in the path her allies were forging. With Earthrealm’s fate hanging in the balance, she knew they all had a part to play—even if her role was yet to be fully realized.

Johnny Cage exclaimed, "Holy Ark of the Covenant!"

Raiden gazed at the amulet in Liu Kang’s hand, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism. "It is incredible. But is it necessary?"

Liu Kang nodded. "The Outworlders you will face possess not only great strength but also powerful magic. The amulet will help balance that."

Kung Lao, ever cautious, added, "You must be careful, Raiden. This could be dangerous. Even deadly."

Liu Kang shook his head calmly. "No participant has ever been seriously injured or killed during Mortal Kombat. I wouldn’t send you into battle unprepared. We depart for Outworld’s capital, Sun Do, in seven days. The tournament will take place at Empress Sindel's Palace. Outworld may seem both alien and alluring to those from Earthrealm. Do not let it distract you. Stay focused on the mission."

On Johnny's shoulder, Airlea sat, her tiny form almost blending in with the folds of his shirt. She wasn’t used to hearing about inter-realm battles and deadly tournaments. As Liu Kang's words sank in, the reality of what they were about to face hit her harder than she expected. She gripped Johnny’s collar tightly to steady herself, feeling every slight sway of his movements as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Her gaze flicked toward the others—towering warriors with their centuries of experience—while she still struggled with the very basics of her newfound abilities. The size difference wasn’t just physical; it felt like the gap between them and her was impossible to bridge. And yet, she was here. Part of the team. Liu Kang’s words lingered, hanging in the air as the group prepared for their next steps, each one burdened with their own silent thoughts.

[pagegirlintraining]

helloo

i have been re-reading your sex-shop au (it's really good) you co-wrote with sb else and i have been wondering. in the sequel when stuff gets more explicit, how is it to write that? do you plan intimate scenes a lot or more than other scenes. what is important? or are they more spontaneous? is it a big challenge to write them together with sb else and do you read each others parts to give feedback? what kind of feedback?

haha that's quite a few questions but i'm curious :)

hi there anon :)

First of all thank you, that’s so sweet and I’m glad it’s holding up on the re-read too 🫶🏼

Now as for your questions, I’ll try going through them one by one. Just a warning, this might get a bit long (when asked about writing, I’ll always have a hard time shutting up again 😅).

Also disclaimer, I’m obviously not some sort of expert on this topic. This will only be an answer based on my personal experience.

1) do I plan explicit scenes more than others? - Not usually. In fact, the only real planning I do for them in any of my other fics is whether they’re gonna happen and where in the plot. The specifics are being decided as I write.

Obviously, with sex shop it was a bit different because we needed a different toy/gimmick to be included in each chapter. We actually made a list of six things we wanted to include beforehand, then each claimed the ones we felt like writing ourselves (or in my case, handed off the one I didn’t feel like writing). Beyond that, though, it was write as I went again.

2)what’s important in an intimate scene? - Emotions. I could read the most detailed description of a sexual act and feel nothing if it doesn’t include how the characters feel. That starts with what they perceive, what they hear, see, smell, feel etc. (think moans and such, the light catching in someone’s hair/eyes/on their skin, do they smell freshly showered and like a comfy hug or are they still sweaty from a run, the temperature or strength of someone’s touch and so on and so forth) and moves on to how the things they perceive make them feel in this moment. Most of the time, that second part is in some way amplified or modified by the fact that they’re experiencing it with this specific person, which is my personal favorite part about intimate scenes.

I’m sure there’s also plenty of people who lean more toward description heavy stuff, which is more than fine. It’s just not what I’m trying to do with my own writing.

3) are they more spontaneous? - kinda answered that one already but I’ll add that I’ve never been able to write out of chronological order, so every intimate scene is very much written with the previous parts of the story in mind. It’s spontaneous in what the specific sexual acts are, but I always know ahead of time what I want the characters to feel/think about/realize during them.

4) is it a challenge to write explicit scenes with someone else? - I guess it depends on the person, but in this case, not at all. I think it’s important though to discuss ahead of time if one or both parties are uncomfortable with writing or reading certain things.

Also, writing together mostly means we write different parts of the same story, hence we each write our own explicit stuff, then make sure both parts fit well together. So the real challenge is daring to show somebody else your vision and hoping they agree with it.

5) do we read each other’s parts to give feedback, and if so, what kind of feedback? - YES. That’s the best part of writing together imo, is hyping each other up but also getting to give and receive the kind of input that can make a story even better. To be fair, my feedback to most of @the-amber-fox’s smut is a pretty unhelpful combination of 🫠 and 🔥, but we make do 😂 from time to time we’ll suggest adding something, mostly if the other person’s a bit stuck. But yeah, most of it is just getting to read it ahead of everyone else and being happy about that 😁

I hope I could answer some of your questions in a helpful way 💜 Thanks for giving me the opportunity to think about this so explicitly (pun not intended). I’ve never done that before so that was fun :)