#and now with options its like i want to do all 8 a day for the streak for challenge points and tryharding

[bugswarm]

What are you talking about? I didn't need a week long break. I needed a break for a few hours, maybe a day at most. Also "What stops you from thinking this intrusive thought then going, internally, 'damn I need a break'"? Uh, I did. That's exactly what happened. Want a timeline of events?

Initial thought was "God. The people of my country are so fucked up. Maybe we all should just get nuked off the map. Yeah that inlcudes myself and everyone I know but maybe its worth it so the US can't keep fucking up the planet and causing the death of millions of innocents. Ends justifying the means of whatever" Then I started crying and went "Fuck. That's actually really fucked up. I need to step away. Ill let my followers know that they might not see me online for a bit and then close the app". Thus I made the post you are oh so upset about, closed the app, went back to doing other things, and then got 30 notifications when my email synced because I had email notifications turned on for replies to posts.

I saw what people were saying and went "oh fuck they think Im talking about palestine. I should go explain and clarify that the reason I can't logic my way out of these intrusive thoughts right now isn't because Im a psychopath and so morally corrupt as to thinking this about palestine or something. This anger is entirely directed at the people who are ultimately responsible for the death of millions including palestinians and who have proved that they don't care about that or are directly for that more than once. Also some people are taking this as me being a direct danger to myself or others so I should also clarify that Im not. That im exclusively having intrusive thoughts about how I wouldn't be that upset if a 3rd party nuked us off the map to get us to stop being a problem for the rest of the world. Not that Im gonna like, go shoot up a mall or something like some people seem to think. " and followed up with an explicit request to be left alone and a reminder that harassing me was the pro-genocidal thoughts move (since the whole point of the post was that I was upset about the thoughts, getting mad about the post means being mad that I wasn't just straight up pro-genocide. There isn't another thing to be mad about so that's the only option left).

That's also when I turned off reblogs. People kept replying though and I tried explaining more but people just kept doubling down and telling me to kill myself so I went and figured out how to turn replies off too. I made a few follow up posts to explain things better because at that point I had spent hours off of tumblr, sobbed on my friends floor and had a conversation that calmed me down and wasn't struggling with the intrusive thoughts almost at all (was more pissed off that people were harassing me for being disturbed about the thoughts than anything else, though can't say that I didn't have any more intrusive thoughts at all that night but they were easier to logic my disagreement) and figured that maybe the wording I used originally wasn't the best if so many people were still misinterpreting things but follow up posts and edits don't help if people are attacking you over a screenshot of the original post's wording and not reading the edits and other posts that explain so that didn't change anything. Tumblr was also glitching and refusing to close my ask box.

Eventually I went to bed and woke up to over a hundred messages in my ask box and some DMs. Figured out how to turn those off and that's when people started @ing me death threat posts. So I turned @ing off too.

Finally you went and found a random unrelated post of mine just so you could continue to harass me and make sure I saw it despite me very obviously trying to cut off every possible communication method for a reason. I haven't had any issue with intrusive thoughts since about 8-10 hours after the initial post was made and yet you keep claiming Im somehow doubling down on shit when all Im doing is telling you to go the fuck away and leave me alone and to stop harassing me over a post about how disturbing thoughts were why I was going to be offline for a little bit.

How are you not getting this? Youre the problem here. You're mad at me for communicating that I needed a break due to disturbing thoughts. You're saying that Im "playing the victim" when all I did was have some intrusive thoughts, explained that was why I needed time away, and then got mercilessly harassed for days. I didn't victimize anyone else and was the only person who got hurt here. Was I maybe not the most articulate mid-mental breakdown? Sure, that's kinda par for the course with how a mental breakdown works. That doesn't mean you should harass me for days, and ignore the fact that despite my explanations, you still are misunderstanding what that post says.

I couldn't even escape from this and fully take that break I was asking for because I couldn't turn my phone off due to most of this happening while I was at work and my phone is something I use for my job at times. Deleting the app wouldn't help because of email notifications. And turning off notifications also wouldn't help because then I would just have to come back to hundreds of people sending me suicide bait and death threats and harassment. I wanted to get people to stop harassing me and when begging people to leave me alone didn't work, i cut off the avenues to contact me. But people just keep finding new ways to do that. And you finally found the one avenue that can't be turned off. Sure I can block you and maybe thatll stop this but if you figured it out, others can too. So forgive me if Im fucking pissed off at you especially when you are saying I will never hear the end of this. Ive done everything I can to make people stop trying to make me actually pro-genocide but yall won't fucking stop trying. Go the fuck away you genocidal freak

Something thing to think about, the most secure platform for conversations is Signal.

Signal Protocol-based platforms like Whatsapp, Facebook Messenger's secret conversations, or Skype's Private Conversations are a second best option for making sure no one can find out what you are talking about. These may be a good option for people who need a better UX than Signal itself can offer (Signal is very basic and there is no ability to back up your messages or transfer them to another device, whereas something like whatsapp can do some of those things with minimal security risk for most people).

Telegram is the most well known platform for secure messages. It's... not secure. At all. It has a lot of known security flaws. It's just well known because it has good UX and people don't often think to differentiate between "secure against hackers and malicious actors" and "secure against governments". Telegram is only secure against hackers, not governments. Do not use it for anything illegal nor anything you don't want your government to be able to find out.

[woodfrogs]

fellas im gonna be honest idk how many more 11 hour days i have left in me

[axolot-of-ideas]

me fighting my executive disfunction in the best way i know how

options and streaks

[zwei-rhunen]

-crawling thru the Thanalan deserts like a parched creature -

I've finally done it.. I've finished Hildibrand 2.0 (and leveled MCH to 50) ....

Now I can work on the rest of Heavensward (and try out BLU) 😋

[crossingthedreams]

only around you — aemond targaryen x niece!reader

a/n: this can be read as a stand alone or as follow-up to day 8 (growing pains) and day 10 (humiliation) of the @angstober challenge. this is day 14. please, enjoy! feel free to comment or dm me :)

masterlist

word count: 1.3k 

warnings: angst. implied targaryen incest (uncle/niece). death/relative’s death. mentions of war. 

Aemond Targaryen was many things. Ruthless, unforgiving, hateful and a kinslayer — some would say. He was also dedicated, ambitious and resourceful, as many could attest. 

He was not, however, nor would ever be, heir. Growing up as the second option, constantly ostracized, made Aemond resent this fact more than words could ever be able to express. Now, with his father dead and his siblings at war, an opportunity presented itself. 

All the politics in the world, all the hate and the terrible memories from his childhood would never measure up to the pain he felt seeing his niece leave King’s Landing, probably forever, on the back of her dragon, the Cannibal, on the night his father passed away and the age of terror began. 

Aemond was many things, that much was true. However, he never thought he would be heartbroken.

Across Blackwater Bay, on Dragonstone, the niece he reminisced about laid in bed, wearing her mother’s clothes. 

You left King’s Landing, which had been your home for most of your life, with only the clothes on your body, a necklace and dagger, and your dragon. 

Arriving in Dragonstone with the Cannibal was complicated because, well, he got the name for a reason. You had to leave him as far as possible from the other dragons, to avoid any mishappens. 

Only Vhagar made herself known to the Cannibal. The two of them were hardly birds of a feather, but they could tolerate each other and not kill themselves. 

Much like yourself, the Cannibal would not be a problem unless bothered. And, unfortunately, you were bothered. 

When news came that your older brother, Lucerys, perished in an encounter with Vhagar and Aemond, you froze. As your mother raged and your father drank, you just stood there. The princess Rhaenys left quickly, surely to send news to Driftmark as well, and Jacaerys was far away in Winterfell. 

You just stood there, consumed with thoughts about how everything had gone to Hell and back. Your mother would take years, if ever, to recompose herself from this loss, and there were surely many others to come. 

Something had to be done. As the child of the one true Queen, and as the Princess, it was your duty to do something. 

So, you made your arrangements, talked to your informants in both Dragonstone and King’s Landing. That’s why you were now walking through the Street of Silk, only one guard following you, hoping the message had reached its recipient. 

At the time and place you had informed, Aemond Targaryen presented himself amongst whores and commoners, and, well, you. 

“Thank you for meeting me. It was the most sensible choice”, you said, quietly. It wouldn’t be wise to speak High Valyrian in this place, nor to show your hair. That’s why you intended to speak only the common tongue and hide beneath your cloak, just like Aemond was doing.

“You are far less sensible, dear niece”.

“Only around you, uncle”, you replied, teeth gritted. It was true. Only Aemond could make your blood boil. But, as a dragon, as a child of fire, wasn’t that your purpose? Shouldn’t you be around the one who ignites your fire? Shouldn’t you surround yourself with who or what makes you a dragon?

The hood still covered both of you to the outside world, but your faces were visible to one another. 

You desperately wanted to reach towards his face and feel him, but not here, and not now. Not before you asked the one question that was bothering you, killing you, for many moons.

“What happened that night with Luke?”

Aemond sighed, as if he knew what was coming but still felt tired in having to reply. “I regret that”, he said, “Believe me. I do”.

The worst part is that you did believe him. You knew how Aemond’s temper and mind worked. 

A passerby bumped into Aemond, making him stumble towards you. Your back hit the wall, and Aemond approached you even more. You looked around, trying to find your guard. It wasn’t wise to be left alone with someone who could easily make you hostage. But when one of Aemond’s hands reached the wall behind you, close to your head, you lost your track of thought completely.

He was close, and yet he was so far. 

“Why did you come here?”, he half-spoke, half-whispered. His one eye was darkening, and it scanned your entire face.

“I had to know”, you replied, breathly. Your body instinctively moved towards Aemond. Your hips, once flushed against the wall, were elevated to get closer to his. Your chest was rising and falling quickly, and you couldn’t take your eyes from his mouth. 

Even in chaos, you still wanted to know. You wondered, like all maidens do, what it was like to be touched. But you didn’t want just anybody’s touch, you only wanted, only ever dreamed of Aemond. 

“What”, he began, words punctuated by how his face came closer to yours, “did you”, he continued, “wanted to know?”. By the time he finished, his lips were just an inch from yours. You could feel his breath, and your eyes closed by themselves. 

Amidst the heat, coldness hit you. Your eyes opened. 

“I wanted to know why you usurped my mother’s throne and killed my brother, uncle”. 

He stepped away, looking betrayed. You didn’t know how he found the audacity in himself to feel betrayed, when you lost so much because of his recklessness. 

You wanted to look cold, but you knew your eyes gave away the hurt you felt. You loved your uncle, you wanted him and you would’ve made marriage arrangements between the two of you. He had thrown that all away the second he decided to slaughter your brother. 

If Aemond’s temper could get the best of him, yours could get the best of you too. He was the only one who provoked these feelings, so he would be the only one around whom these sentiments would arise. And to hell with his own reactions.

“Nyke māzigon kesīr hae nykeā naejot īlva se se jorrāelagon nyke felt syt ao, uncle. Naejot vestragon geros ilas, se jaelagon ao sȳz biarves. Nyke jeldan naejot ūndegon aōha laehurlion mēre mōrī jēda, se nyke gōntan (I came here as a courtesy to our closeness and the love I felt for you, uncle. To say goodbye, and wish you good fortune. I wanted to see your face one last time, and I did)”. To hell with it all. Nobody was paying attention, nobody would notice you weren’t speaking the common tongue. With your hand rising to your chest, you proceeded, “This feeling, this fear, this is not normal to me. I will miss you dearly, uncle. Love only ever came to me around you”.

Aemond thought his heart had already dealt with all the heartbreak it could. He was wrong. As he left his niece without so much as a goodbye, only the memory of her tears already engraved in fire in his mind, he was certain: there was no pain worse.

Of course, the pain had only begun. The first thing he heard when he arrived in his chambers at the Red Keep were the screams of his sister, and the second was his brother bursting in his room. 

The little prince, Jaeharys, was dead. Slaughtered in his own bed, before the eyes of the Queen Helaena. 

Was that your purpose then?, he thought. To distract him as the others of your pretender’s bunch assassinated a little boy in his bed? 

Only around you would Aemond lower his guard. It was the perfect plan for the Rogue Prince and his cunning daughter. 

Aemond scuffed as his brother raged. His mind was already racing, not only with thoughts of the Throne, but thoughts of revenge. Sīr ziry rhaenagon (So it begins), he thought.

Sīr ziry rhaenagon.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#392

“Well Lucas, I had pretty much given up on you.  But here you are.  And for some reason, you are in my home wearing clothing.  This is not the way to beg me to allow you to service and serve me once again….  That’s better.  You will need to be disciplined for that.  Remind me before you leave to punish you properly….

“I see the envelope.  Hand it to me. 

“What the fuck are you doing.  Get back there and crawl to me.  It may have been only a few months since I dismissed you, I can’t believe you are forgetting the basics.  Don’t make me regret offering you a second chance.

“Atta boy.  I was surprised when I got the call from Dyson at his leather shop telling me that you were in and wanted to be fitted for that cock cage.  Get back on your knees and present your pecker to me….  Eyes down.

“Dyson did a good job.  Most cages aren’t fit well.  Faggots can easily pull their shaft out and give it a tug.  This one is nearly impossible.  And after I pierce that dickhead of yours, the cage will work even better with the lock, as the jewelry secures you inside.  Your useless pecker won’t be coming outside to play for a long, a very long time.

“This envelope doesn’t look tampered with.  That’s good.  It contains a pair of keys, each in its own smaller envelope.  On the back, Dyson signed his name across the seal….  Here you go.  Add this envelope to your pile of clothes.  That’s his way of telling me the key is secure.

“That envelope, or one that I markup, is to be always with you.  If there is an emergency, a real emergency, you may open it up and remove the cage.  If that should happen, I am to be notified immediately.  If you can contact me prior, do so.  You got that?

“Good boy.  Come with me down to the work and playroom.  You may walk. 

“…This is my key here.  Come over to my worktable.  See all the keys I have?  There’s 18 here.  Yours will be number 19.  Each are screwed down.  That’s why I have this drill here. 

“…There.  Yours is now just like the other slaves’ keys.  None of them are marked.  And if you notice, none have been unscrewed.  The reason for that is that all screws are stripped so they can’t be easily removed.

“I said there are 19.  Sixteen of them are the keys to slaves that have walked away from serving me.  That option is always available to you.  Number 8 is on the other side of the country.  You’ll meet number 15 next weekend.

“Now that’s done.  It’s blumpkin time.  Come with me into the shitter….  And don’t worry, I’m not going to shit in your mouth.

“Help me take my pants off….  You better be ready to do this.  You back out now, you better just go away,… permanently.

“…Kneel there….  Here, get that mouth over here.  I see you are weary.  To take your mind away from the idea of blowing me while I take a dump, let me give you something you can focus on.  I need to piss real bad.

“Get your mouth on it.  Man, you have a very talented tongue.  Now hold still.  There!  That feels so good.  Going forward, I want to have all my piss go through you first. 

“You’ve been drinking me on every visit.  It only makes sense.

“You hear that?  You smell that?  You get to smell my rank farts before I do.  Heh heh.

“I can tell you are squirming on the inside.  I know you are repulsed with the idea.  Good.  You knew this moment was going to be happening from day one. 

“I’m done pissing.  Go ahead and suck.  …To the root.  You know how I like to be blown.  Do it. 

“When I first brought you home from the bar, I fucked you the entire weekend.  Your answer to two questions led us to today.  I asked you what your favorite part of your time here was, and you said that you liked the non-stop fucking of your ass with my gigantic dick. 

“Every time you came by afterwards, I could tell you wanted me to fuck you long and hard.  I purposely haven’t.  I told you that I don’t fuck after the first time, unless you agree to give me something in return.

“It’s all about balance.  You want something from me, you have to offer a sacrifice.  I told you I demand a form of monogamy from you.  That would be monogamy of your dick or monogamy of your cunt.  You could have any man I allow have access to your dick, even yourself, and that your cunt would only be used by me.  A lockable butt plug would be installed.  Or, you could have your cunt available to any man I allow, and your pecker would be unavailable and locked up to all, again even yourself. 

“Seeing you in that cage tells me that you made up your mind.  Going forward, you’ll service men who will give you their loads.  Next weekend you and I will be going on a fishing trip with slave number 15, where both of you will serve and service me and a few of my buds.

“The second question I asked you that night, was what your limits were.  You remember what the only thing you listed?...

“No. No.  Keep up with the blowjob.  Don’t start easing up.  Give it the attention I deserve.  Yes, there you go. 

“You only gave one limit.  It wasn’t animals or kids or women or even something really gross like dead people.  Those would be an immediate no for me too.  No, you just said ‘poop’. 

“No, I’m not going to make you eat out of the toilet bowl, so you can relax.  In fact, let me flush that down.

“Sit back.  Keep your eyes down.  I need to finish up here….  Oh fuck.  I’m out of toilet paper.  I forgot to get some when I was out.  Damn.

“Come with me back into the playroom….  I said, ‘Come with me.’  Lay on the fuck table.  I need to plow that hole.

“Well, that got you smiling.  Yeah, I just hate to see an erection go to waste.  Especially considering the amount of throat slime you put on it. 

“Reach up and hold your legs….  There’s the cunt.  And here’s a little gob of my spit.

“Right to the root!  Goddamn!  Like I told you on that first weekend, your cunt was made to be fucked.  It takes the long dicking of my eight inches with just enough struggle.  That look of ecstasy on your face tells me you are enjoying this…. 

“I should be pissed off.  But I’m not.  A bitch like you should have some moments of heavenly pleasures.  These moments come from my dick taking care of your hole.  You can expect my dick in your ass two or three times a day.  Yeah, I can go multiple times.  You get this intense pleasure.  But it can stop at any time.  All I have to do is… pull out.

“Damn!  After six or seven thrusts, there’s just the beginnings of a gape.  It’s hungry for more!  It needs to be fucked.  Doesn’t it boy?...  Don’t worry, my dick will take care of your ass. 

“That’s what it will be doing day in and day out.  But that requires balance.  It can’t be all me taking care of the needs of your ass.  It has to be balanced with you taking care of the needs of mine.

“Bring your legs down.  Get off the bench and get under the rim seat.  You have some work to do.

“Don’t fucking say a word.  You do NOT want to disobey me on this.

“I see the heavenly bliss on your face went to terrifying fear in only a few seconds….  Good.

“No, lay behind me on that four-inch riser.  I don’t want your torso between my legs.  And I don’t have to worry about you beating off, not that I expect you to be remotely hard doing this.

“Your head goes between those two padded pieces of wood.  That’s to keep your head from moving side to side.  That four-inch platform is designed to elevate the seat so that it fits my legs.  This will allow me to sit on your face for a good long time.  The other thing about this platform are the two holes on both sides of your neck.  That’s where this neck lock gets secured… like that.

“You cannot pull out.  I don’t expect that to be an issue now, but later once we get to the end of your full toilet training, that’s a different situation.

“Get that tongue ready.  Stick it out.  I better feel it go to work….  Now bitch!  Lick!

“Remember, you are the one who decided this on our first time together.  You said this was your limit.  It’s all about balance.  You take care of my ass, and I’ll take care of yours. 

“You can knock off the gagging.  You are going to be down there for a while.  Reach around and stroke my cock.  Feel how rock hard I am.  Think about the fucking you are going to get once I am cleaned up.  Oh yeah.  After we are done here, I am so going to destroy that ass, just like I did that first time.  It’s all about balance.  You are gagging from disgust, and I am rock hard aroused.

“…You know, I thought you were going to say something different about what your favorite part of the weekend.  I thought it was waking up next to me both mornings, with you in my arms and my cock either in your cunt or snuggled up next to it.

“Did you like that?  Flick your tongue twice across my asshole for yes or once for no….  Thought so.  I enjoyed that too. 

“After you clean my ass, we’ll go up to my bedroom and I’ll fuck you there, just like that first weekend.  And afterwards we’ll just stay in bed for the rest of the night.  Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.  Normally slaves should be locked up, and I use that cage over there for those slaves.  But you are going to get your first night in my bed to wake up in my arms.

“You can look forward to that too.  But we need to balance out the tender caresses you will receive from me….  Keep licking….  It’s decided then.  Tenderness from your loving daddy will be balanced against the cruel beatings from your sadistic master.  And I have just the belt to do that with.  Yeah, we’ll get you welted up and bleeding before I fuck you again. “Mmmm, I like that idea.  A lot.  Let go of my cock.  I don’t want to cum too early.”

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (19)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer finally takes her out on a date. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (Public fingering) A/n: I did not forget this series, I've just been distracted I'm sorry!! I also apologize if there are any inaccuracies in some random facts, I am not as smart as him, I can only do a quick research from Google.

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

"SO, HOW DO I LOOK?"

She spun in front of the mirror, showing off the dress she had picked out that afternoon on an impromptu shopping spree. The garment had looked stunning on the store mannequin, and now, in the soft glow of her bedroom, it was more appealing.

The spaghetti straps delicately framed her shoulders, and the lavender fabric accentuated her curves. The bottom of the dress, hovering just below her knees, gave a playful vibe with a teasing slit inching up her right thigh. And the neckline, with its very low plunge, offered a glimpse of her cleavage she couldn't help but wonder whether it was showing too much skin.

"Like you want to get laid," a playful voice called.

Her laughter echoed through the room as she turned to face her phone and realized the dress was hugging her ass quite snugly. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Sandy's voice echoed through the phone again. She glanced at the screen, seeing her friend's smiling face. "You look gorgeous."

She grinned, the reassurance from Sandy making her feel more at ease. "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

She reached for a sparkling necklace and dangling earrings, holding them to the camera. "Necklace or earrings?"

"Hmm." Sandy squinted at the screen, studying the options through the video call. "Go with the earrings. They'll add a touch of glamour without stealing the spotlight from the dress."

She nodded in agreement. "Earrings it is, then."

As she carefully slipped herself into the accessories, Sandy couldn't help but muse her thoughts. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear purple."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What do you mean? I've worn this color before."

"Your wardrobe either consists of black or gray. You had to go out shopping to buy this dress."

She laughed nervously, caught in the act of her predictable wardrobe choices. "Alright, fine." She pursed her lips together before letting out a sigh. "I may or may not have asked his friend what his favorite color is."

"You sly fox," Sandy laughed with a huge grin. "So you do want to get laid."

She blushed, adjusting the earrings. "I mean, if the occasion arises..."

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

"Well, not exactly, more like... strategically considered?" She tilted her head and observed herself in the mirror again. "Does it make me look desperate?"

"Of course not," Sandy reassured. "It just shows you're putting in effort. Besides, confidence is attractive. You look hot."

She blushed at the compliment, but before she could respond, the distant hum of an engine reached her ears. Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she moved towards the window and noticed a car pulling into her driveway. It wasn't the usual sleek, black government vehicle; instead, the car looked like it had seen better days, although it held a vintage charm that caught her by surprise.

Then reality finally kicked in—he was here for a date, not because of his job. They were actually going out for a nice dinner he had prepared.

She suddenly felt sick.

"Sandy, he's here," she whispered, her voice betraying a touch of panic.

Somehow Sandy still managed to hear her voice from across the room. "You'll be fine! It's not like you haven't spent time with him before."

"Not when my life wasn't on the line." She was met with silence and walked over to her phone, picking it up to find Sandy's disapproving glare. She sheepishly smiled towards the screen. "Too soon?"

Sandy shook her head with a sigh. "Only you would joke about your near-death experience."

"Spencer told me it's a coping mechanism."

"You've joked about it to him as well?"

She nodded. "He's not a fan either." The sound of the doorbell ringing brought her back to the present. "I need to go."

"Wait!" Sandy's urgent voice echoed through the phone again. She watched as her friend's expression softened. "How are you feeling today?"

A warm smile graced her lips, moved by Sandy's ongoing concern. Ever since they reunited at the hospital, Sandy couldn't stop apologizing for what had happened, even when it wasn't her fault to begin with. Her friend consistently checked in on her well-being.

"I'm actually feeling pretty good. Nervous, but good."

Sandy nodded, her smile carrying reassurance. "Good. Now, go enjoy your date."

She reciprocated the sentiment with a blow of a kiss towards the camera. "I'll call you later," she promised before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, slipping her phone into her purse as she descended the stairs.

Spencer was waiting at the door when she opened it, all cleaned up and undeniably handsome. His well-fitted suit accentuated his strong shoulders, and the crisp white shirt beneath complemented the subtle purple tie he wore. The fabric of the suit, in a rich charcoal shade, seemed to bring out the warmth in his hazel eyes.

A nervous smile played on his lips, only enhancing his charm and giving him an endearing quality that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes, however, spoke volumes as they assessed her, taking in the way her dress hugged her curves. Spencer couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.

He was so mesmerized that without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, catching her by surprise. In an instant, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in an unexpected yet tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped them, and for a brief instant, her worries seemed to fade away.

Her initial surprise transformed into a soft smile as she reciprocated the kiss, savoring the way lips moved against hers, and when he finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with a mixture of admiration and affection.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted, his nervous smile now replaced by one of genuine warmth.

She couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "I'm certainly not complaining."

As they exchanged smiles, she noticed a smudge of her lipstick on his lips. She burst into laughter, breaking the moment with a lighthearted touch.

"You've got a little something right here," she teased, reaching up to gently wipe off the lipstick with her thumb.

He simply gazed into her eyes with a sincere smile. "You look beautiful."

Blushing at the compliment, she smiled appreciatively. "Why thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Spencer urged, gently tugging her arm, and she willingly followed him after locking her door.

As they walked down her driveway, she felt Spencer's hand on her lower back, a gesture that added an extra layer of comfort to their connection. Unable to contain her surprise, she couldn't help but comment on the unexpected sight of his vehicle.

"I never pictured you as someone who owned a car," she commented, her tone teasing but filled with curiosity.

Spencer chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It may not be as sleek as the government vehicle, but it gets the job done."

She laughed, finding his revelation endearing. "Well, I'm impressed. It suits you." Her eyes scanned the vintage-looking car. "It reminds me of you actually."

"What? Old and worn out?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. I meant classic, with a certain charm."

His smile widened at her response. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Spencer graciously opened the car door for her, and she beamed appreciatively, slipping into the vintage car's comfortable interior. The soft glow of the dashboard highlighted the nostalgia-infused details of the vehicle, making it clear that Spencer had a penchant for classic styles beyond his usual government responsibilities.

As he closed her door, he circled to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel. The engine hummed softly and as she watched him, she felt a certain warmth traveling through her body.

In the soft glow of the car's interior, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked. His features were highlighted by the dashboard lights, casting a subtle yet captivating glow. Before he could pull away from the driveway, a spontaneous impulse surged within her.

"Wait," she said, her voice breaking the quiet ambiance of the car. Without overthinking, she reached over and gently grabbed Spencer's arm, tugging him back for a moment.

He looked at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

She smiled, feeling a surge of boldness, and leaned over to him. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a more passionate kiss than before.

He responded with a mixture of surprise, yet his hand gently found its way to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. His lips moved in sync with hers, and when she softly sighed in contentment, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her ever so slightly as his other hand found its place on her thigh.

But when his hand inched under her dress, she laughed and gently pulled away. "I don't think we'll be eating anything if we continue this."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Right," he murmured, readjusting himself in the driver's seat. "Sorry."

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she settled back into her seat, fastening her seatbelt. "So, where are you taking me, Handsome?"

His lips curved into a smile as he finally pulled away from her driveway. "It's a surprise," he said. "You'll see."

It wasn't really a surprise. Spencer had already mentioned wanting to visit this place and the big sign saying 'PLANETARIUM' at the entrance was already a dead giveaway.

However, the unusual quietness that enveloped the space caught her off guard. With only a handful of staff present, the vastness of the empty lobby echoed the click of her heels.

The atmosphere shifted when he gently urged her to close her eyes. Suspicion mixed with curiosity, she couldn't resist teasing him as she followed his instructions. "What do you not want me to see? I already know where we are."

A secure arm wrapped around her waist as Spencer guided her through the darkness. She could sense a grin in his voice as he replied, "Sure, but the location isn't exactly the surprise."

"What is then?" She asked. The echo of their footsteps persisted, creating a rhythm in the quiet space of the planetarium.

"The experience," he simply answered. "Keep your eyes closed a bit longer, we're almost there."

"This is kind of making me nervous," she admitted. "You're not going to kidnap and murder me secretly, are you?"

His steps faltered briefly before she let out a sigh, urging him to continue moving. "Sorry, that sounded way better in my head."

There was a heavy silence before he replied, "We should do something about you joking on that matter."

"It's called dark humor."

He softly hummed. "There's actually a psychological explanation for dark humor as a coping mechanism. It's a way for people to navigate and make light of challenging situations."

"You've mentioned this before."

"I know," he confirmed. "I just want to remind you that every time you think you're being morbidly funny you're using a well-established psychological defense mechanism."

"And what do I have to do with that information?"

"Well, for starters, you can appreciate your brain's attempt to keep things light." He gently squeezed her hip. "But maybe try to cut yourself some slack for the occasional dark joke."

She couldn't help but smile, even with her eyes still closed. The subtle squeeze on her hip added a reassuring warmth to his words. "I still don't get why your boss wants me to see the therapist you guys provided when I already have you."

Spencer chuckled and pulled her closer. "Because one, I'm not a licensed therapist. And two, my therapeutic techniques might involve a bit too much intimacy for the average counseling session."

She laughed. "You mean sex?"

"Sexual intercourse," he corrected, still not wanting to say the word, which she nudged her elbow into his side in response.

As their footsteps finally ceased, Spencer gently urged her to open her eyes. When she complied, her eyes widened in astonishment at the breathtaking sight before her—a vast array of galaxies projected onto the ceiling of the planetarium. The cosmic display painted the dark expanse with hues of celestial beauty, leaving her momentarily awestruck.

Yet, what surprised her even more was the scene at the center of the room. A table setting, elegantly arranged, caught her eye. The table was adorned with flickering candles, casting a soft glow on the carefully arranged dishes and the gleam of polished silverware.

She stood in awe. "Spencer, this is... incredible." Her eyes swept over to him. "You did all this?"

"Well, technically the staff prepared this." He guided her further into the room. "But I pulled some strings."

"Some strings? I think you pulled all the strings." She threw him a grateful smile as he pulled her chair, urging her to sit down. "This must cost a fortune."

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, settling in the seat opposite her. "I just want you to enjoy the night."

As she took her seat, the soft glow of candlelight accentuated the contours of his face. She felt a flutter in her chest, realizing she was falling even harder for him. It wasn't just the fancy setup; it was the thought behind it that got to her.

Fate truly had a peculiar way of guiding her to this present, bringing Spencer into her life. It was a bit surreal knowing that the worst things she'd been through somehow brought her to a moment like this.

Maybe, she pondered, there's a silver lining, a reminder that good things can sneak up when you least expect them. And now it was worth focusing on those good things.

So she savored his company, the easy flow of their conversation, the delicious meal he had prepared, and the soft music playing through the stereo. She also enjoyed being close to him moments later when they finished their dinner. The warmth of his presence felt comforting as they lounged in the viewing seats, gazing up at the scene above.

"Do you see the seven bright stars forming a distinct pattern?" he asked, gesturing toward a shimmering formation.

She followed his guidance and nodded. "They look like a tiny ladle or a dipper."

He smiled, appreciating her observation. "That's the Ursa Minor, also known as the Little Dipper. And the North Star, Polaris, is at the end of its handle."

"The North Star?" She repeated.

"It's a crucial navigational star. Sailors and travelers have used it for centuries to find their way. It remains relatively fixed in the northern sky, making it a reliable reference point."

"Hmm," she hummed. She then pointed to another set of stars. "What about that one?"

He followed her gaze and smiled.

"That's the Orion constellation," he said. "It's one of the most recognizable and has a lot of myths around it. In some cultures, it's a hunter chasing various prey across the sky."

"And what's the story behind that?"

He leaned in closer to her. "Well, in Greek mythology, Orion was a mighty hunter who fell in love with the Pleiades. However, fate had different plans, and he ended up among the stars, forever pursuing them."

Her gaze remained fixed on the celestial display, captivated by the tales woven into the stars. "So, he's like a romantic?"

Spencer chuckled. "In a way, yes. Myths often carry themes of love, tragedy, and destiny."

"Like human nature."

He nodded in agreement. "Like human nature."

There was a moment of silence before she turned to him. "How do you even know all of this?"

"We often travel outside the city and the skies are pretty clear in remote areas. Sometimes you can see a few constellations."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you're a secret astronomy enthusiast while solving crimes?"

A bashful smile played on his lips. "When I have the time," he admitted. "There's something fascinating about the stars. They offer a sense of perspective."

She smiled. "It's nice to know even a man of logic and facts finds magic in the sky."

His gaze softened. "Magic has its place in the world, even for a man of logic." He suddenly reached out to the back of her ear and retrieved a dollar bill out of thin air. "See? Magic."

She couldn't help but laugh as she took the bill from him and examined it, tracing the edges. "I remember you doing this trick the first time we met."

He leaned back, a contemplative look in his eyes. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

"Considering everything that happened since then, yes," she replied. "You know, I never asked why you were at that bar in the first place."

A subtle blush painted on his cheeks. "I was... enjoying a drink." When she gave him a deadpanned look, he raised his eyebrows. "What? Do I not seem like the type to be hanging out alone at a bar?"

"You stood out like a sore thumb." She gave him back the dollar bill. "I remember you barely touching your beer."

Spencer sighed, taking the money and placing it back in his pocket. "I was supposed to hang out with the team, but they ditched me."

She arched an eyebrow. "They ditched you? Why?"

He shrugged. "Apparently something important came up."

"So they left you hanging at a bar?" When he nodded, she tilted her head in mock sympathy. "Well, it certainly worked in my favor."

He watched her, the flickering memory of that night flashing before him. The first time he kissed her, the taste of her lips, the sensation of holding her naked in his arms. Then his eyes raked down her collarbone, pausing slightly at the swell of her breasts before looking back up to meet her gaze.

"It worked in my favor too."

She noticed his gaze lingering, a subtle heat spreading across her cheeks. The air suddenly shifted as he leaned closer, creating an intimate space between them. There was a magnetic pull, and she felt her breath catch in anticipation. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly grazing her skin.

"Tell me what you remember that night," he said, a low timbre in his voice.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear and she met his gaze with a flush coloring her cheeks. "I remember seeing you sitting alone at the bar."

His reply, a mere whisper, reverberated dangerously low. "What else?"

"You came up to me and did that magic trick." A faint smile played on her lips as she reminisced. "I was amused, and we sat together."

His eyes lingered on her mouth. A subtle tension lingered in the air, each exchange building upon the last. "And then what happened?"

"We talked," she breathed, the word lingering in the air like a shared secret as he leaned closer. "We laughed." She felt his breath brushing against her lips.

"Then you kissed me," she confessed, and in the heartbeat that followed, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers gently. She let herself sink into his touch as he held her face, keeping her in place while he continued to taste her all over again.

His lips fit perfectly and she kissed him back as eager, letting his tongue glide into her mouth so effortlessly. She held onto him, slightly pulling him closer as if he wasn’t close enough even when he was practically pressing his body against hers.

When he slowly pulled away, she suppressed a moan. "Like this?" He asked.

"Like that," she murmured, the taste of him lingering on her lips as they shared the space between breaths.

The warmth of his lips traveled down her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that brushed over her skin. "What else do you remember?"

His lips trailed further down, and she shivered. "We..." Her voice wavered, breath hitching, as his hand slid down her arm before his fingertips began to faintly stroke her skin, grazing over the hem of her skirt. "W-We went back to your place."

"Go on," he urged the words hanging in the air. She felt his fingers glide over her inner thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle.

"You..." She let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over her panties softly. "...you touched me."

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing her teasingly through her damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with her clit.

"Was it like this?"

Her hand wrapped around his forearm, trying to stop herself from moaning aloud, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with her clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes fixed on her. She looked over at him, her mouth going slack as she felt the sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She didn't seem like herself, and although she didn't mind public displays of affection, she wouldn't let it go beyond a kiss. She wasn't the kind of person to be intimate in public, but here she was, letting him touch her when any of the staff could walk in. Heck, she wasn't sure he was the type of person who would do something like this.

His fingers moved from her clit, dragging down her slit and collecting her arousal, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against her walls. She looked down to see his fingers gently pumping in and out of her cunt. Her legs were so wide from him that her knee was practically resting against his thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered, "Did I touch you like this?"

Her chest began to heave, her hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over her casually. "Yes," she breathed out.

Soft whimpers escaped her as she bit her bottom lip, trying desperately to be as quiet as she could manage. The fire in her stomach burned hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers. Her legs opened wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to pump into her cunt.

A strained whimper filled his ears the moment he circled her clit with his thumb, the added stimulation did nothing to help her sanity, and moans began to spill from her lips, mouth parting in pure bliss.

"Spence," she whined, voice so unsteady and breathless, she couldn't control her volume anymore, desperate moans mixing with the sounds of her wetness dripping between her thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, speeding up his fingers. "Let go for me."

The pressure of his fingers was making her impending orgasm loom dangerously close as her back arched from her seat, hand gripping around his wrist. Her eyes flew over to him as she reached her peak, body shivering and writhing as she pushed her hips down against his fingers, feeling them slide from her pussy before circling her clit in rapid motions.

With a final gasp, she lost all control, her mind growing numb, feeling him wildly as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her entire body. She cried out silently, calling his name over and over until she grew too weak while she desperately clung to him.

When he finally pulled away, she felt her arousal dripping down her legs. She stared at him wide-eyed as he fixed her panties back in place before brushing her dress over her legs. When she kept looking at him in a daze, he softly laughed and leaned down, brushing his lips over her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"I..." she was gasping for air, a hand-tossed over her chest. "Did that actually happen?"

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear. His fingers gently traced the outline of her jaw as her face flushed—lips delicately swollen, eyes glazed with a mixture of desire and surprise. The aftermath of her climax painted her cheeks in a captivating shade.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand and gently pulling her up.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still carrying the traces of her orgasm. His gaze met hers with an intensity that spoke volumes, revealing an unspoken hunger that mirrored her own desires. His intention was clear.

"We're going home."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: it did not occur to me the possibility of CCTV cameras in a planetarium lmao please excuse me. Also, the plan is to write one last part and an epilogue to wrap it all up.

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[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Imagine your first wash day at Joe's...

word count: 1.1k

a/n: JB9 taglist is now open, if you’d like to be on it comment 'tag me🏈’ and you’ll be added. If you want to be taken off at any point dm me -babe :)

main masterlist

When you first started dating, Joe had only ever seen your hair in a protective style or wrapped in a scarf, granted you met in the summer so those were your safest options.

As time went on and you grew closer, you began to wear your hair out more which required much more work, so you left a mini hair care bag at his place. It only had a few essential items like a leave in, edge control, mini spray bottle, some hair oil and a pack of silk scrunchies. Since you spent the majority of the time at his place he believed that was all you needed to maintain your 4b/4c hair.

You moved in with him a month ago, and today is your long awaited and very much needed wash day. The weather in Cincinnati finally cooled down enough for you to let go of the braids, so you planned to do mini twists. You wanted to start as soon as possible, so when Joe left at 8 in the morning you gathered your bucket of haircare products and locked yourself in the bathroom.

♡ ♥︎ ♡

It was about noon when Coach Taylor let his players out, they had a game that Sunday so he didn't want to run them too ragged. Joe, Tee and Ja'Marr decided to grab a bite to eat before heading to Joe's to cool off.

The moment the 3 men enter your living room is the exact moment you remember that you may have neglected to tell your boyfriend of today's significance.

"Hey babe, we stopped by that place you liked so I brought you- woah." Joe looks wide eyed at the organized mess of different combs/brushes, gels and bottles of hair products with you in the center of it.

You nervously smile at the trio. "Hi." You quickly finish the twist you're on and pause the movie you're 'watching'.

"Are we interrupting something- ohhh yea mhm got it. Let's go, Tee." Ja'Marr says assessing the situation.

"Yo wait, can you do mine next? You know, when you get a chance." Tee asks.

"Man, she aint doing yo crusty ass fade. I'm definitely next."

"There ain't nothing wrong with my cut." The two wide receivers argue on the way out.

You chuckle before turning back to your boyfriend, "I may have forgot to tell you today's wash day." You say sheepishly.

"You think?" He shakes his head and takes a seat on the cleanest spot next to you. "This is a lot, when did you get all of this?"

"I've had it the whole time, most of it stays in the closet a majority of the time." You shrug moving around some of the products so he can stretch out. He gladly scoots in closer and analyses your work in progress.

You had just finished the back before they walked in, your hair is pretty thick and a decent length so washing it took about 2 hours. Then you decided to make your life easier by making the process harder and blowing out the entire thing, that took another hour.

"The line in the back is crooked, but its look pretty nice overall."

You immediately smacked his chest. "Joey, what the hell."

"What'd I do? Do you not want me to be honest?" You glared at him.

"You've been hanging out with Ja'Marr for too long."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your head, "baby you are the most talented, amazing and most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And you are doing an absolutely fantastic job on your hair."

"Much better, now let me wash my hands before I see if you actually got my order right." You teased.

"I know you better than I know myself Y/n, you need to stop doubting my 'boyfriend skills'."

While you're gone he couldn't help but look at every single product in his vicinity. Trying not to knock over any of the open bottles of oil, he spots a bright blue gel-cream and reaches for it.

"Doo Gro, well I am growing out my hair." His curiosity getting the best of him, he scoops some out of the jar and sniffs it for safety reasons. Unable to place the scent, he rubs it in his hands then rakes his hands through his hair.

"Joe, what are you doing?" He jumps at your voice, effectively knocking over your bag of combs.

"Shit, baby. What does it look like?" He says now cleaning the mess of combs, in shapes and sizes he'd never seen a day in his life.

"It looks like you wanna be a giant grease ball." You snort picking a handheld mirror off the floor and putting it in his face.

"Jesus, I didn't put that much in." The dollop he picked up had somehow multiplied and made it look like he'd meant to slick back his hair.

"Aww my poor greasy baby, I hope you rubbed it into your scalp as well." You said picking up your plate and shoving the food in your mouth.

"I think I got that covered, does this stuff wash out- Y/n baby calm down it's not going anywhere." He stares wide eyed at the plate that's been half eaten in mere seconds.

"I know, I just haven't eaten since like yesterday. It probably does, just not all of it. At least you'll get thicker hair out of this," You can't help the giggles coming out as you continue to look at your boyfriend's head.

"It's not that funny." He bites his bottom lip as his own start to take over.

"You look like the kids that cover themselves in vaseline and peanut butter." The room's completely filled with your laughter to the point that everything has been forgotten.

"If doing your hair has always been this fun, let me help all the time." He smiles as the laughter subsides.

You shake your head, "I'll let you wash it next time and we'll see if you still wanna be included. Even with your giant football arms, you'll be tapping out before we get to deep conditioning."

He smirks, "all I hear is that you like my arms."

You scoffed and gave him a good once-over, "oh I like more than your arms." Biting your lip, you sit yourself in his lap.

"Oh yea, tell me more." His eyes blazed with desire as your hands run up his arms and down his chest.

"I love how big you are, but you already knew that." You smirk.

"Fuck." He growls pulling your lips flush against his.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: inspired by my HS self making the fact that I learned to do my hair during quarantine and mastered mini twists enough for it to become my entire personality. she was very humbled when they became a trend lol, I still love them tho and my nephew who covered himself in vaseline not once but 3 times. :)

[midnightscramble]

Hello I want to request one of Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader smut 🥹

Like Lightning Part 1 (Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader)

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: So, so many liberties were taken (if it’s not to your liking feel free to request again, don’t be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: To Agatha’s surprise and relief her neighbor Y/n is not under Wanda’s complete control, Y/n has a feeling her and Agatha have met before…

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pwp, slight angst/comfort, touch starved Agatha, thigh riding (Agatha receiving), biting (Agatha receiving), bottom Agatha, top reader, no Beta read

There was not much to do in Westview. The smart dressed college kids she went to school with had invited Y/n to hang out by the water tower, the go to spot for wanna be delinquents. But every night was the same, they discussed the same things with slightly more fluency than the night before, almost as if it was a rehearsal.

Rather than endure any more of the pseudo intellectual ramblings, Y/n had taken to walking at night. She walked just about everywhere, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, even taking to the near by woods. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, there was something about Westview at night that intrigued her. The air had a dream like quality, perhaps it was the mysterious fog that invaded the town each night, or maybe it was just her imagination.

Either way, Y/n felt a keen sense of safety on these walks. The city council had recently established a town curfew, meaning everyone was supposed to be in their homes by 8 pm. Two hours later and it was guaranteed that all lights would be out as people retired for the night. Everyone seemed so eager to comply with the rules that there was not a single soul left awake to enforce them.

That was until she saw an abandoned bicycle propped up against a tree near the edge of the woods. Cautiously approaching, she let her hands run over the handles. They were warm. Someone had recently ridden the bike. Y/n looked around the empty streets, and then towards the woods. The odds were that some kid thought they’d be rebellious and runaway for the night. She huffed and debated her options: continue her walk, or prevent a would be search party.

Always the good samaritan, she trudged through the fallen leaves, letting instinct guide her. It was almost as if a magnetic force was tugging her deeper into the woods. No, a child wouldn’t have made it this far, a child would have turned back by now- the sound of crickets chirping suddenly ceased, replaced by the low hum of radio static. She stopped in her tracks a peered into the darkness.

Choppily, a disembodied voice sounded as if it were right in front if her “We ha-ve eye-s on an-other host-age”

Y/n took off in a sprint before she could process what was being said. She dropped her keys somewhere in her rush to safety but didn’t look back until she had reached the familiar pavement of the roads. Still running, she made a beeline for home, and to her great relief a light emitted from her neighbor Agatha’s window. She ran up to the front door and pounded on it. Her heart was beating so fast she feared her ribcage would give way to its force. Finally the door opened, and Y/n collapsed into the door frame.

“Oh, well hello to you too,” Agatha sing songed.

“Please you’ve got to let me in, there’s something in the woods…” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she peaked over Y/n’s shoulder to examine the outside.

With concern in her eyes, she guided the young woman in. She wasn’t quite sure if Y/n was lucid or not. It seemed unlikely that Wanda would suddenly decide to give her a gift, and equally unlikely that her wife, Y/n, was in control of her actions.

Wanda’s spell on Westview had cruelly separated Agatha and Y/n. Day after day, Agatha was forced to watch Y/n wonder, flirt, and be a pawn in the whatever plot Wanda was acting out. The two had not interacted a single time during this whole ordeal, making Agatha’s days feel endless.

Y/n being one door down and yet completely out of her reach had been driving her slightly insane. Although, she did appreciate the proximity as it allowed her to keep an eye out for any threats.

“What happened did someone chase you?” Y/n paused and looked around, she had never been inside Agatha’s home before. In fact she had never even spoken to the woman, and yet she had the oddest sensation that being here with the woman was exactly where she belonged. Y/n dug through the deepest recesses of her mind, and looked at the woman in question.

It was only then that it occurred to Y/n the peculiarity of the situation. How was it that Agatha wasn’t asleep? Everyone in Westview followed the town’s curfew, yet here Agatha was, fully dressed in day clothes and awake as ever.

She ignored Agatha’s question and posed one of her own, “How is it that we are both awake right now?”

The dark haired woman sucked in a breath. Y/n never ceased to surprise her, she should have known her wife would move against the grain even when dark magic compelled her to fall in line.

“We must not be susceptible to lullabies…” She searched Y/n’s eyes for understanding. Her crypticness only seemed to agitate her wife further. If she wanted to get away from Wanda’s prying eyes she would have to convince Y/n to come down to the cellar, where her ruins are.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “Care for a drink?” Y/n nodded and followed her to the kitchen. On autopilot she started making the woman a vodka soda, but as she reached to place it down on the counter Y/n grabbed her wrist.

“How did you know my drink?” Not releasing her hold, Y/n pushed into the woman’s personal space, trying to intimidate her. Backing her into the wall she asked again, “What do you know?”

Agatha swallowed, the longing that had built up these past few months had left her positively starved for her wife’s touch. The feeling of the woman's body pressed against hers made her release a whimper. Y/n eyes darkened, and her breathe became shallow at the small noise Agatha emitted. Her grip on the woman's wrist loosened and she soothingly rubbed the pads of her fingertips against the reddened skin.

Even with no memory, Agatha thought to herself, the woman before her was still her sweet Y/n. Still caring even when frustrated and fighting.

For a moment, they stayed in that position, tightly pressed against the wall, breathing the same air until the lights of the house suddenly cut out. Y/n gasped as they were plunged into darkness. She clung onto Agatha, "What's going on, please I need to know."

She slipped out of the hold and tugged Y/n's hand gently, "You'll have to come with me." Silently they walked down the basement stairs. Large stones with carvings were littered across the floor, coming together to make a pentagram and Agatha guided them to the center. Wisps of purple floated through the air, like cotton candy being carried by the wind. In awe, Y/n reached out and gently touched it, it crinkled and cracked against her fingers like electricity. She turned to Agatha, waiting for an explanation.

...

They sat across from each other on the floor, far more relaxed as the reality of the situation was brought to light.

"And you're working to stop Wanda?" Y/n clarified.

"Well, now we're working to stop Wanda."

"But who exactly are we?" Agatha bit her lip before responding, "I'm your wife."

Y/n's eyes widened, she wished she could say it was in disbelief but she was mostly impressed with herself. A slow smile spread across her face, cat like and absolutely predatory, "Is that why you liked me corning you earlier?"

Agatha flushed, "You have to understand, I've been alone for months," as the woman explained herself Y/n started a slow crawl forward, "and having to watch you-"

"You've been watching me?"

"No! I mean yes, but not like that." Agatha buried her head in her hands. She jumped slightly feeling Y/n's hand close around her ankle, using her strength to drag the woman closer.

Once there was little space between them, Y/n carded her fingers through Agatha's hair, "That sounds awful, but I have to say, I'm glad you were alone" her grip tightened on the brown strands tugging her head back and exposing her neck, "I wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company."

Agatha's eyes closed as Y/n's lips met her neck, the feeling distracted her from the hand unfastening her jeans. She opened them when Y/n huffed with impatience. Agatha would have stopped to tease but she had waited too damn long for this. She made quick work of the pants and slid them down her smooth legs. The moment she was unoccupied Y/n hands were back on her, squeezing and rubbing every inch of skin almost as if she was confirming that Agatha was truly there.

Everyone else in Westview had seemed hallow, like a projection of a person, but Agatha was real. She was real and soft, and radiated heat.

Their mouths clashed against each other's and Agatha moved to straddle Y/n's leg. She slowly brought her hips down and rocked forward. Agatha broke the kiss as a shuddered breath left her. Purple clouds started gathering above the ruins, churning with energy. Peering above her, Y/n smirked at the display of uncontrolled magic. She could feel wetness gather on her thigh as Agatha's movements became rythmic, and the clouds above them rumbled.

Moaning into the other woman's mouth, Agatha's cunt clenched around nothing. Moving her hands to the woman's waist, Y/n forced her to move faster. Beads of sweat ran down Y/n's neck as the room grew humid, she looked at the beautiful woman above her, her wife. In act of pure possession she bit the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth in until she felt skin break. Agatha cried out and a loud crack sounded behind them, her hips stuttered to a halt and her toes curled at the sensation washing over her. Y/n ran her tongue over the bite soothingly and continued moving Agatha's hips until she pushed her away, overstimulated.

Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Agatha let out a laugh. Following her line of sight, Y/n turned to see what she was looking at. A spot on the floor was scorched.

It appeared as though lightening had struck.

[rootedinrevisions]

One of them Girls: Part 16 (Finale)

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

PART 7 I PART 8 I PART 9 I PART 10 I PART 11 I PART 12

PART 13 I PART 14 I PART 15

Four Years Later...

The evening sun bathed the rolling hills of Northwest Arkansas in a warm, golden light. You leaned back against the tailgate of Tyler's truck, the worn flannel blanket beneath you feeling comforting and familiar. The picnic basket beside you was nearly empty, save for a few crumbs and an empty bottle of wine, remnants of a simple, perfect meal. Tyler sat next to you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both looked out over the landscape.

Tomorrow was a big day—your graduation from the University of Arkansas. You'd worked so hard to get here, and now that it was finally happening, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirled within you. The future stretched out ahead of you, full of possibilities, but also questions. What would come next?

You glanced over at Tyler, who seemed lost in thought, a soft smile playing on his lips. He was quiet tonight, more than usual, but the look in his eyes when he glanced at you told you everything you needed to know—he was happy, content, just being here with you.

"You okay?" you asked, nudging him gently.

He chuckled, turning his gaze to you. "Yeah...Just thinking."

"About what?" you pressed, curious.

"About us. About the future," he said, his tone thoughtful. "About you. I'm just really proud of you."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. "I couldn't have done it without you, Tyler. You've been my rock through all of this."

He was quiet for a moment, then he took a deep breath, his arm tightening around you slightly. "So... what do you think is next for you? After graduation, I mean."

You sighed, the question you'd been avoiding finally brought to the surface. "Honestly? I'm not sure. There are so many options, and it's hard to know what the right path is."

Tyler nodded, his expression serious. Then, a playful glint sparked in his eyes. "Well, I was kind of hoping you'd include me in whatever comes next."

You looked up at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he slid off the tailgate and stood in front of you. "Can you stand up for a second?"

A little confused but curious, you pushed yourself up from the tailgate and stood before him. Tyler reached out and took both of your hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over your knuckles.

"I've been thinking about this for a while now," he began, his voice soft but steady. "About how these last few years have been the best of my life. And it's because of you. I've never been happier than when I'm with you. You let me be myself, and you make me feel like I'm enough just as I am."

Your heart started to race, and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat as Tyler suddenly dropped to one knee in front of you. The world seemed to slow down, the only sound was the steady beating of your heart.

He looked up at you, his eyes full of love and sincerity. "I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to. So... I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, simple ring, its gold band catching the last rays of the setting sun.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as you nodded furiously, your voice caught in your throat. "Yes," you finally managed to whisper, your heart bursting with happiness. "Yes, Tyler, I'll marry you."

His smile was the brightest thing you'd ever seen, and he slid the ring onto your finger with hands that were surprisingly steady. Then, he stood, pulling you into his arms and lifting you off the ground. He spun you around, both of you smiling and laughing..

When he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your tears. He looked at you with such love and devotion that you felt like you might melt. "I love you," he whispered before leaning in to kiss you, the kind of kiss that makes everything else fade away.

A Year Later...

The backyard of Tyler's house was transformed into a beautiful, rustic wedding venue. Twinkling lights were strung up across the trees, and wildflowers in mason jars decorated the tables. Friends and family gathered around, watching as you and Tyler shared your first dance as husband and wife. The soft melody of a country love song played in the background, but all you could focus on was the man holding you close.

As you swayed together under the night sky, you looked up at Tyler, your heart full. "Can you believe we're here? That we're actually married?"

Tyler smiled down at you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be. With you."

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I'm so excited for our future, for all the adventures we're going to have. You and me forever."

Tyler's smile widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "You and me forever, Mrs. Owens," he whispered before kissing you, sealing the promise of your future together.

As you danced beneath the stars, surrounded by the people you loved, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you and Tyler would face it together. This was just the beginning of your forever.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie in their 30’s who on a Random Thursday night after putting their kids to bed decide to go smoke weed for the first time in a few months in the garage.

Steve almost never smokes anymore so Eddie does all the prep work, even holds the bong for him. They take their hits and head back inside Steve already immediately scared and following closely behind Eddie basically hiding behind his back.

“Eddie I feel weird, like space barbie or something and there are definitely overly glittery pink aliens after me. I can feel their giant eyes on my back.”

“Its gonna be okay baby, we will land you in the safe zone soon with the emergency fruit snacks and a fresh bottle of water with ice.” Eddie assured as best he could letting himself crack a smile at the stars so Steve wouldn’t see.

Unlucky for them (well mostly Steve who had blasted off to paranoid planet) their kids are sitting at the table. Both girls in their night gowns, teddy bears in hand with hands rubbing at their eyes.

“Daddy? Papa?” Gracie their youngest says.

They both stand like deers caught in head lights at the font door. Eddie feels Steve’s hand grip into the back of his shirt tighter and snaps into action.

“Okay Barbie mission to the safe zone starting, head down, lets go.” Eddie grabbed Steve pulling him into his side as he guided them to their shared bedroom with a quick “one second girls.” Thrown over his shoulder.

“Who are you talking too?” Steve questioned trying to lift his head.

“The aliens.” Eddie guided it back down. Somehow he knew that answer would induce less panic. He flicked on the colourful lamp and gave Steve the remote knowing the colour options would keep him entertained long enough. With a final kiss to the forehead and a promise of snacks Eddie was out the door.

He stood in the hallway to the kitchen and took a deep breath. He had been high enough in his teen years at school. He could do this. He could lock in. He walked into the kitchen and the small delusional part of him that believed his 6 and 8 year olds tucked themselves back into bed withered away. The girls were still there looking confused.

“Daddy why did papa go away? Is he okay?” Gracie asked.

“Papa is fine just not feeling good thats all.”

“Did he have too much adult juice again?” Daisy asked this time.

“HAH.” Eddie couldn’t help the laugh he barked out at that. “No no just a migraine, he is getting some rest now.”

“Why were you in the garage if papa has a migraine?”

“Okay how about my turn for questions, what are you two doing up?” Eddie deflected, he would miss these days when they became snarky teens who caught on to shit like that.

“We want a snack daddy.” Gracie asked.

“Please.” Daisy added belatedly.

“How about this, fruit pouches in your room, NOT in bed though.” He was already getting the apple sauce pouches out of the fridge. He ushered them down the hall back to their rooms with a lamp on and a warning he would be back in 15 minutes to make sure they went to sleep.

[peacefulpianist]

The Green Dress

Loki x Fem. Reader (no y/n)

Wow hi everyone, I can't say I ever thought I would be doing this, but I've written something! I've been an avid reader for a few years now and have finally convinced myself to give it a shot. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please do bear in mind this is the first thing I've written since year 8 English that isn't an academic paper of sorts. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

I'm tagging a few members of the SAS who I think may like this? But if you want to be removed please do let me know - no hard feelings at all : @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @wheredafandomat @liminalpebble

Description: When Stark invites you last minute to one of his infamous parties, you've not got many options on hand to wear until Nat suggests you wear the green dress you had bought months ago. Perhaps it will be enough to inspire a certain god to finally make his move.

w/c: 4.2k whoops I didn't intend for it to be nearly this long

My Masterlist

“How many times do I need to tell you that you absolutely can not do that Stark!” You exclaimed in exasperation over the cluttered lab table once more.

“But if I just ignored that little thing-” the glare you sent from over the top of your glasses quickly shut his remark down before it could continue any further. Looking contrite, but rather worryingly still determined, Stark pushed back from the table, going slightly further than expected in his chair and trying to style it out as intentional as he almost collided into several rather important projects. 

“Well since you’ve thoroughly pooped on that party Brainiac, I’m declaring we call it a day here, and hey speaking of parties, you are coming later aren’t you?” He asked whilst trying not to fall of his chair and catching a rather dangerous looking item falling off one of the nearby tables he had knocked into. 

A wave of panic washed through you at the mention of the event later; you had been hoping that as no one had specifically invited you to it, only mentioned it in passing, that you would be able to give it a miss unnoticed. It wasn’t that you disliked Starks events or even parties in general, you just happened to be aware of who else would be there and definitely couldn’t trust yourself to keep up a front with the copious alcohol that would no doubt find its way into your system. Not that you were totally innocent in how it found its way there. You had been hoping to avoid a direct invitation like this, purely because you had a real issue saying no to people, especially those you liked and admired. It was because of this, and only this - not the fact you would get to see Loki in one of his impeccably tailored suits again as a helpful voice in your head supplied, that you found yourself blurting out the following. 

“Uh yeah sure, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world boss!” 

You had hoped that it had come out in a convincing tone, but the slight frown emerging on Starks face said otherwise. However, as quick as it had appeared on his face it was gone, replaced by a trademark smile as he slapped his thighs and stood.

“Well then, you better be off to prepare and polish your elbows, or whatever it is you ladies manage to do to fill so much time getting ready before these events,” his face quickly faltered after realising what he had actually just said and quickly followed up with “not saying of course that it isn’t absolutely worth it, especially if Pepper asks”. 

In an effort to allow Tony to leave the interaction without digging himself an even deeper hole, you stood too, gathering your bag as you went, giving a slightly awkward wave over your shoulder as you walked out the door. 

It was only when you made it back to your room upstairs that you fully understood what you had actually agreed to. Not only were you going to have to be in the same room as Loki, desperately trying to hide your feelings towards him, whilst watching him flirt with practically everyone in attendance, but also work out what the hell you were going to wear to a party at such short notice. Unlike many of the other inhabitants of the tower, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly equipped for these kinds of events. You had always preferred to skip out on anything that required this level of formal wear, the comfort of your staple jeans and a hoody was something you had always chosen over the tighter fitting, more formal attire required at Stark’s parties. 

In a somewhat unhelpful move, you decided that putting off the outfit dilemma was the best course of action, as a frantic full-body shower was needed, and of course there was no point choosing an outfit before you’d done your hair and makeup after the shower as well. You had told yourself that the outfit choices could be mulled over during this time as well, but realistically knew that you were just lying to yourself and would inevitably put it off until the last moment. 

A frantic search of your wardrobe, which involved many an outfit being taken out, only to be thrown into the rejection pile on the floor moments later, left you coming up short and in the middle of a ring of discarded outfits whilst still in just your towel. You sank to the floor, just staring despondently at the chaos around you, contemplating whether Tony would actually notice if you didn’t go after all. 

It was in that state exactly that Nat found you minutes later after she had knocked, not waited for an answer and entered anyway, only to stop in her tracks and abandon whatever purpose she had come with upon seeing you in such a state. 

“Well that outfit is sure to grab everyone’s attention, not what I would choose personally but good for you girl!” Nat said with a smirk, leaning on your doorframe.

“Don’t even start with that right now, I wasn’t planning on going to this until and hour ago, and I appear to have greatly underestimated my wardrobe deficiencies. Some actual help right now would be greatly appreciated.” Your reply came from the floor, all hope of being able to avoid Stark’s shindig fading with the sound of the door closing behind Natasha. 

“I’m sure your so called deficiency isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” her voice somewhat muffled as she rooted through what was left of your clothes in you’re wardrobe. 

“I mean look right here, what was wrong with this option, it’s even green, perfect to catch you-know-who’s attention!” The smile on her face dropped when she turned to face you, brandishing the green dress you had bought months ago on a whim when out with some friends, only to realise you would never be comfortable enough to wear it out in public when you had tried it on at home later that evening. 

“Woah, what’s so wrong with this one that it makes you pull that face? It’s a stunning dress I can’t see what you could possibly have against this one, its perfect for tonight.” Nat questioned with a confused frown, after seeing the vehement refusal on your face at the suggestion. 

“It is a beautiful dress, just not on me, I don’t-” before you could even finish the thought, Nat had pulled you up, and was pushing you quite forcefully back towards the bathroom, throwing you in there along with the dress and your raciest, laciest underwear that you hadn’t even seen her grab.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, you should know better than to speak like that about one of my closest friends by now, by the time I’m back after getting changed myself, I want you wearing that dress so I can prove to you how wrong you are when you see everyone’s faces when we walk in later” Nate reply was somewhat muffled behind the bathroom door, but the fierceness, and her love for you, was still conveyed perfectly through the wood. 

“Besides if it truly makes you feel that bad after wearing it tonight, we’ll burn it together tomorrow, I’m not having you keeping it if its going to make you feel this way whenever you see it.” The finality in her tone and promise of being able to get rid of the thing tomorrow was enough to get you to follow her orders, that alongside the fact that you were still rather scared of her, even after having been friends with her for a few years now. 

With Natasha momentarily gone, it gave you the chance to ruminate in your thoughts, the dress was truly stunning, a deep emerald green that displayed your decolletage beautifully, with a daring slit from ankle to high up on your thigh. While you could see that the dress itself was objectively great, when it was you wearing it, it didn’t seem that way anymore. Instead of being able to focus on all of the ways it could highlight your beauty, all you could see was the way the closer fit of the dress clung to your stomach slightly, and how the slit showed off your thighs, and just seemed to emphasise how big they were. 

It was in this downward spiral that Nat found you in upon her return, a frown once again set on her face as when she saw the malice behind your eyes, directed solely at yourself. 

The way you could only ever focus on the parts of yourself that you saw as problems had always hurt Natasha, and how it impacted the way you behaved as well. It wasn’t just a matter of wearing baggier clothes that covered your insecurities, but the way you let it decide where you belonged socially. She was intimately familiar with your growing feelings towards a certain god of mischief who had taken up residence in the tower little over a year earlier, but also with your pessimistic view towards your chances of the feelings being reciprocated. Ever since you had realised that your feelings were more than that of just friendship you had immediately resigned yourself to remaining in the friend zone, refusing to believe that he would ever see you as something more because “he’s a god and I’m, well, I mean just look at me.” Nat had tried countless times to reassure you that the way you saw yourself, was not in fact the way others saw you, but had also at this point come to the understanding that your self perception wasn’t based in logic, and reasoning as such wasn’t going to make enough of an impact to change how you saw yourself. 

It was with this in mind that she approached you, an arm reaching round you and pulling you into her side for a hug, while smiling at you in the mirror, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your room and to the party on the floor above. 

Your outfit dilemma had delayed the two of you a little, so when you arrived upstairs, the party was already in full swing; with music blaring and alcohol clearly flowing freely if the state that some of the guests were in already was any indication. As such you were easily able to slip in behind Natasha unnoticed, before heading straight over to the bar, feeling the need to indulge a little more than normal tonight. 

From your vantage point at the bar up on the mezzanine, you could see almost all of the goings on down below you, from Lang absolutely busting it up on the dance floor to Tony trailing around after Pepper, seemingly trying to make up for something that was undoubtedly his fault, but wasn’t actually remorseful for. Unfortunately it also meant that you had the perfect view of Loki and his apparent flavour of the night. Despite knowing how unproductive it was, you found yourself comparing yourself to her, noting all the ways she was traditionally attractive, only to seemingly find yourself lacking in the same places in comparison. Even though you had accepted months ago that Loki was never going to reciprocate your feelings, and having desperately tried to allocate him into the friend box in your head unsuccessfully, it still hurt deeply to see him so close with other women, knowing what he would be doing with them that night, only to move on to the next when it suited him. 

This knowledge had one advantage for you though, it had made it much easier for you to become friends with the god. As you knew nothing romantic was ever going to happen between the two of you, you had found it that much easier to relax and joke around him, even going as far to return his flirty remarks, as there was no pressure behind it for you, and the potential embarrassment behind behaving more boldly was removed. Since he flirted with everyone that way, it obviously didn’t mean anything to him, so it made it much easier for you to jokingly flirt back. It was because of this new found confidence, that you had struck up a strong friendship with the god and had come to call him one of your closest friends. It had only added to your mental torture.

After a few more self indulgent moments, agonising a little more over what could have been you turned to the bartender, and took another drink with a polite thanks and a smile before deciding that even if you did still regret coming, and especially wearing the dress, you were going to make the most of the evening. Besides how many people could say they got to drink and dance with the avengers, who they were friends with. 

It was with this new found resilience that you stood from your place and made your way down to the dance floor, having caught Nat and Wanda’s eyes before and been summoned. 

The next few hours passes in a slight blur of laughter and dancing for you, after a few, chaotic but incredibly fun dances with Nat and Wanda some of the other men began to join in, requesting a dance with you. Between the fun of teaching Steve how people actually danced in clubs now alongside Nat, and Bucky whirling you round the floor like an absolute professional - after complementing your outfit for the evening with an all too knowing look, you had almost forgotten about your preconceptions for the evening, but whenever you danced with one of the men, however gracious and smooth they were, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were Loki instead of them; comparing the feel of their hand on your back to what you had imagined Loki’s would be like if he were there instead. 

Just when you were about to take a break from dancing, a slightly cooler hand came to rest on your back, as its owner leant down to speak into your ear over the music.

“Darling, I think its about time we show them how its really done don’t you?”

The feeling of his breath over your neck as he leant in closer sent a jolt down your spine, that you were almost certain he must have felt in his hand, still placed firmly in the middle of your back, exactly where you had imagined it being all night. 

Quickly composing yourself, you managed a somewhat natural reply, rather impressed with your own neurones for still being able to function at least somewhat normally whilst Loki was so close to you, having not moved away under the pretence of needing to be closer to be able to hear you over the music.

“Ah of course your majesty, I’m sure us mere mortals couldn’t possibly live up to the prowess of a god”

His low reply was barely heard over the thumping of the bass, in a way that made you question whether he had actually intended for your to hear it, if it wasn’t for the sly wink he sent towards you after.

“Yes I find that is the case in many areas darling, especially when it comes to moving their bodies”

The raised eyebrow you gave in reply expressed all you needed him to know, and covered for the fact that your mind had been sent in a downward spiral imagining his trademark snake hips dance move, in areas other than the dance floor. 

Whilst you were somewhat distracted in your thoughts, he moved the hand from your back to loop his arm round your waist and bring you back into the middle of the dance floor, beginning to sensually move his hips and draw you into to him to do the same. 

What you didn’t know was that Loki and been subtly watching you all evening, ever since you had walked in the door, many may not have noticed your entrance behind the Black Widow, but at this point Loki’s body was finely attuned to your presence and he hadn’t been able to draw his sight away from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You were wearing his colours. His green. But it wasn’t just your choice in attire tonight that had drawn his attention, as delightful as that dress was, you’d had it for many months before this point. Initially you had been a curiosity to Loki, kind to him when many others weren’t immediately following his return to Midgard, but after talking to you the first few times it was your intelligence that had captured Loki’s heart. He had found you to be one of the few midgardians to match his voracious appetite for knowledge, both in reading and in your chosen profession as a biologist working alongside Stark and Banner, but much less insufferable than the other two. 

When Loki had first come to terms with his interest in you, he had thought his subtle flirtations would be enough to alert you to his intentions, but when these failed to elicit any kind of response from you he had slowly become more and more bold with his innuendoes and flirtatious comments when in your presence. At first he had thought he was finally getting somewhere with you when you had began to match him in conversations, but when you made no sign of anything more, he had found himself stumped. At one point he had even stooped so low as to flirt with others in your presence in the hope that it would inspire enough jealously within you to reveal your feelings towards him, alas it did not work. No one had ever taken this long to fall victim to his seduction. He had admitted to himself that this time was different to his previous experiences as truly desired more with you than just a roll in the bed, not to say that did not also desire that with you, he had thought about that extensively, but he was not sure how to progress from here. 

When you had walked in tonight though, looking exquisite in his colours he had decided that enough was enough, tonight he was going to finally bite the bullet and just ask you outright if you would be with him. It was not a decision that he had come to lightly, but he had finally come to the realisation that if he wanted something to happen he was going to have to do something about it for himself. 

You didn’t know whether Loki had bribed the DJ before approaching you, or it was a shear unfortunate coincidence but as you continued dancing, each song seemed to get progressively dirtier and more sensual. This combined with finally dancing with him after having imagined it all night, the enticing smell of him from being in such close proximity, and the one or two drinks you’d had early were practically sending you into an early death.

Simultaneously Loki was experiencing a similar issue, when she wasn’t looking, Loki found his eyes being drawn from her face down to her chest, which with his height he had a fabulous view down, and combined with the lyrics and music he hands had seemingly began to move of his own accord and were veering dangerously further south. He decided he needed to do something soon, or he was going to have a very hard time of it.

As he leant down once again to speak into your ear, your breath hitched ever so slightly, and a faint flush bloomed across your cheeks- a fact that didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the god, and one that made his own pulse race. All hope that you felt the same way as him was not lost.

“Are you alright there darling? You’re looking awfully flushed. You’re not too warm in here are you?”

You had barely managed to stutter out what you could only imagine would have been a terrible excuse before he continued;

“Unless of course it is for the same reason as I.”

The hope that formed in your chest from the one sentence alone caused you to whip your head up, needing to search his gaze to see if he was really implying what you thought he was, surely he couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have felt the same way towards you as you did to him. Before you could continue with your self deprecation, he interrupted your thoughts once again;

“Now now darling stop that immediately, I can tell you are already overthinking this before I have even truly started. I do not know what it is that makes you doubt yourself so, but you must know that whatever it is I do not share that same belief.”

You held his breath as he said this, still not truly believing that this could be going where you wished it was, but not daring to do anything to break the spell just yet

“I was almost sure you would have known by now, but apparently I have not been clear enough in my appreciation or my advances towards you. I very much like you min elskling, you have well and truly captivated me heart and mind, body and soul. I would be honoured if you wished to court me, or as I believe you mortals say, go on a date with me” Loki finished with a release of breath, like saying all that had released a burden from upon his chest and he could finally breath deeply again now it was done.

You just stood there frozen in the middle of the dance floor, unsure if what you had heard was really happening, surely this was all some wonderful fever induced dream, and you were going to wake up face down on one of the desks in the lab any moment. 

However Loki was reading your silence as rejection, and the insecurities that he had previously pushed aside were starting to flood back.

“Of course darling, if you do not feel the same then, I would be more than happy to just remain as friends,” it was of course a lie, but one that he would guard closely if that were the case, as he would never want for you to feel guilty for making an honest decision, and would much rather keep your friendship than not have you in his life at all.

“And I can completely understand why of course if you do not return my feelings, after all with my heritage I know-” before he could finish his sentence though you had reached up and pulled his face down to your height, before promptly pushing your mouth onto his in a scorching kiss. In the time Loki had began to panic and ramble, it had finally registered what Loki had been saying, and that it was in fact real, so before he could spiral any further you had to display your feelings towards him, and this had seemed like the most direct course of action.

After a brief moment in which Loki’s brain had to catch up to what was actually going on right now, he swiftly took charge of the kiss, both of you melting into it, especially as Loki opened his mouth to let he tongue dance along your lips before slowly meeting your own. At the same time, Lokis hands began to wander more actively, finally sliding that last little distance down to your behind, which he grasped firmly before sliding one hand down to bring your leg up and round his hip, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. Your own hands had found their way into his silky hair, finally fulfilling the desire you had held for many months to feel what it was like between your fingers, and when you gave it a gentle tug in the passion of the moment, a low growl made its way up Lokis throat, only enticing you in further. 

It was only as a few wolf whistles broke through your bubble that you remembered exactly where you both were and that it was perhaps not the best place for what was clearly on its way to happening. It was with the same thought that Loki took your hand and began leading you out of the room, stopping only briefly first to growl lowly into your ear “we need to leave now darling, don’t you agree?” Before nipping your earlobe and pulling back to grin at you. 

With absolutely no objections, and no subtlety either, you nodded before taking the lead taking you both in the direction your room, before stopping to remember the state you had left it in before the party in your distress to find an outfit. You blushed at the memory and changed direction slightly to lead you both to his rooms instead. Loki however took no notice, or simply did not care for the slight moment of hesitation, as at this point he didn’t particularly care where you were headed as long as it was close by, you were finally his and now it was time for him to claim you as such. 

Part Two here:

Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far! Please do let me know what you think x

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back. 

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. 

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city. 

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task. 

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I’ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs. 

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.” 

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing. 

Drip

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability. 

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power. 

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

[izvmimi]

cw: pseudocest. implied one-sided love triangle. reader is technically a silva. yandere undertones.

As in every royal family, secrets abound, some out in the open whether by force or by inevitably, like the fact that you may or may not be your father’s child, and that as a result you may not be a true royal, nor a true Silva, and others more well-kept, somehow even more scandalous.

Like the fact that your purported first cousin by murky blood is in love with you.

“Noelle will wonder where I am, Nozel,” you murmur. It’s late evening in Spring, and you’ve come back to the estate on his request for a ‘family meeting.’ By now, the four main Silva children have grown up, Nozel the oldest and head of the family, now in his early 30s and yet to marry, and as such the differences that marked growing up have now resolved. You’ve been raised in and out of their home due to your father’s inability to parent without the help of a madam, and his unwillingness to marry someone that wasn’t your mother, so naturally, you found your way back here with Noelle. Emotional support never hurts, and you love your cousin dearly. 

However, this part of any interaction with this - your - family is hardest to navigate - the fact that Nozel has wanted you for many years, and now has become bold enough to pressure you to marry him.

“But you agree that it looks bad that I’ve remained single all this time,” Nozel states. You look up at him, holding in your desire to roll your eyes before letting out a sigh. The two of you are caught up in a hallway, far from the main wing where dinner had been served, far from prying eyes. You often end up like this these days, him far too deep into your space, his face leaned into yours, that stupid front facing braid close enough that it practically grazes your nose.

“Not as bad as marrying your first cousin,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes.

“Everyone knows that that cannot possibly be true.” He steps back, and crosses his arm. “Whatever Uncle insisted on is quite silly, I don’t understand why he was so desperate to refuse to admit that you are but his stepdaughter. We would not have treated you any differently-” he starts, but you scoff, covering your mouth with your handkerchief.

“You failed to treat your actual sister well and you dare project the illusion of fairness?”

Nozel’s pale violet eyes narrow, and you look away. You don’t know if you’ll ever stand up to him - it’s been possibly 15 years since the first time you were brought into the Silva family, holding your father’s hand at the doorstep. Nozel had looked at you with so much contempt, that your 8 year old self wondered if you were dirty or particularly hideous, while Noelle had immediately taken your hand, grin wide before she was practically dragged away by her siblings. What irony is it today that even if he’s spared you today, you can still remember him forcing your chin steady and kissing you just weeks ago, confirming your long-held suspicions that he was really crazy enough to do it. 

To try to own you completely. 

“Do you have better options, ___?” he asks. 

You’re not too old to find a suitor, even if the search has not started for you, but you know that’s not what he means. You would be hard pressed to find a man of similar rank, intelligence, beauty or magic ability, and the two of you are well aware of this fact. Even if someone were to object to your union on the basis of close parentage, your father cannot stop him from beyond the grave, and the kingdom may speak, but ultimately no one could truly prevent your union.

Except you, technically, but at times, you wonder if you even really have a choice.

“I don’t, but I would like to continue to have some time to follow my dreams.”

Nozel offers you a small smile, his hand finding its way onto your right cheek and caressing it. “I’m quite delighted you have your own dreams.” 

You don’t like the way he says that, and as his hand falls gently from your cheek to his side, you understand that the implication is that of a father entertained by his child’s dream of becoming a dolphin. Ridiculous. 

“If you are concerned about Noelle’s whereabouts, I’ll leave you to go find her,” he says, now letting his hands rest behind him, and changing the subject. Where he’s touched you is still asymmetrically warm, as though you can feel all 5 fingers, as though he’s marked you as his. You remember braiding Noelle’s hair in between your legs at age 14, and her 11, and him appearing to watch the two of you for far too long. You’d thought the psychological protective barrier you had around “talentless” Noelle is what repelled Solid and Nebra whenever you came around and fascinated Nozel, but there was something else entirely. 

As Nozel leaves you to ponder this not-quite marriage proposal, you shudder. You take a few steps down the hallway to find the banquet room, then slowly find yourself sinking to the ground.

Your legs are shaking, not from fear per se, not from desire either (although logically it’s not unfathomable that you could ever grow to like or even love him) but out of a sheer understanding that your life could so easily begin and end with him in just a few short years. 

Your time with the Black Bulls may have spoiled you these last several years, offering you freedom you’ve never had with the Silva family. It’s helped both you and Noelle grow, and while Noelle is no longer under the thumb of her siblings due to her immense power and indomitable spirit, you are simply not as strong as her, nor do you have the advantage of legitimate birth into royalty no matter how much your father tried to give it to you out of respect and adoration of your mother. 

You are far more at Nozel’s mercy than you would like to be. To think all these years you spent protecting that little girl, only to find out that she was far more safe than you’d ever be.

Do you have better options?

On paper, no, not a chance in hell. In your heart, possibly. 

Before that smile can come to mind, you shake it out of your head and scramble to your feet, Noelle rushing down to find you. 

“Gosh, where the hell have you been? We need to leave this place, I don’t even know why I bothered coming,” she starts. It was a show of kindness, but she’s naturally lost interest. Her purple eyes scan to you a little too long, and you force a smile to dispel your unrest. She cannot see it. You’ve hidden the way he looks at you for this many years, no need to reveal everything now. 

You don’t want to spend any time explaining your predicament, not to her, not to the Black Bulls. 

Not to…

“Asta was hoping we’d meet up with him and Luck and Magna in an hour. What do you think?” she asks. Then quickly, her face turns red and she rephrases herself, as she’s done for years. “Not that it matters that much, you know. I don’t care what he thinks at all! I’m actually considering not going.”

You smile. 

“Let’s go.”

You take her hand, and you are young kids again, and like a child, dirty laundry ceases to be your responsibility.

For now.

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 8: One Could Get Used to This

Wordcount: 1.5K

~~~~

No-one comes to drag Virgil out of bed. He wakes on his own the next morning and for a few moments contemplates getting out of bed, but then he rolls over and goes back to sleep. It’s his day off, he doesn’t have any plans, and he is cozy.

He wakes again around noon, and wanders downstairs. There’s no-one in the sitting room, but he finds Patton in the dining room, curled up in the armchair with a book.

“Good morning!” Patton greets cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says. “You?”

Patton’s eyes crinkle up in a pleased smile. “I did, yes, thank you,” he says. 

Virgil fidgets, just a little, and he glances back toward the door. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Hm,” Patton says thoughtfully, tapping the book against his chin. “Logan’s in his office, and last I saw him, Roman was still asleep, poor dear.” He chuckles. “You two sure were up real late last night. And Remus and Janus aren’t here right now, but they were going to come to dinner, so they should be arriving in a few hours.” He pauses, thinking. “I don’t think anyone else was planning to be here today, but I might have forgotten something, or they might’ve forgotten to mention it. That happens sometimes.”

“Must make meal planning difficult,” Virgil says.

“It can,” Patton agrees. “But I like to make sure we have plenty of leftovers anyway, so a surprise guest or two isn’t very hard to accommodate.” He smiles gently at Virgil. “Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?”

“If you’re offering,” Virgil says, because they have been incredibly hospitable to him so far, but he doesn’t want to presume anything.

“Oh of course,” Patton says, setting his book down. “I hate to leave anyone hungry when there’s food in the house. What would you like? Are you in the mood for a breakfast breakfast, or something more lunchy?”

Virgil hesitates. “I don’t want to make you cook something just for me,” he says.

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” Patton reassures him. “I like cooking. But we do have leftovers in the fridge if you would like something quicker.”

Virgil nods a little. “What are my options?”

“Well, we’ve still got plenty of what we had last night, of course,” Patton says consideringly, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. Virgil follows. “And I made a fresh batch of boiled eggs this morning.” He opens the fridge and peers inside, then waves Virgil over. “Take a look, anything look appetizing?”

Virgil joins Patton in front of the fridge and looks inside. ‘Plenty of leftovers’ may have been an understatement. The fridge is quite full, mostly of containers. There’s no way Virgil can possibly see all the options without taking most of the contents out to see what’s behind them, and he is not about to do that.

Trying to be quick, Virgil scans the food visible through the sides of the containers. He sees white rice, mixed vegetables, something brown that’s probably gravy, mashed potatoes, a couple drumsticks… 

He knows, reasonably, that everything in this fridge is probably very good. He is also sure that if he was sat down and served any of these choices, he would eat it without complaint and be pleased with it. But just now, looking at the leftover containers, his stomach and taste buds rebel, and nothing looks appealing. 

“I don’t know,” Virgil says. It’s not that he isn’t hungry. His stomach is very helpfully informing him that it is currently empty. It is just also telling him, simultaneously, that there isn’t a single food in the entire world that will satisfy, and unfortunately it has annexed his tongue to its side. His brain, meanwhile, is yelling that he’s taking too long to decide, and he needs to hurry up and pick something before Patton gets upset at him for letting all the cold out of the fridge.

Patton makes a sympathetic sound. “Too many options to choose between?” he says softly. “Would you like me to prepare you a plate?”

Virgil’s very bones go limp. “Yes please,” he says weakly, glad to have the decision taken out of his hands.

Patton rests his hand gently on Virgil’s arm. “Why don’t you go wait in the comfy chair, and I’ll bring you some food in a minute,” he suggests gently.

“Okay,” Virgil says, and goes. Just as he settles, Patton appears in the doorway again with an empty plate in his hands.

“You don’t have any dietary restrictions, do you?” he asks. “I know it’s a bit late to be asking, but…”

“No, I’ll eat anything,” Virgil says, fondness rising in his chest. “Thanks for checking.”

“You’re welcome,” Patton says, and goes back into the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later, the plate now laden with a large slice of lasagna. “Do you want to come eat at the table, or over there?” he asks.

“Table, definitely,” Virgil says, moving. Much less risk of spilling red tomato sauce on their furniture that way, plus he’d rather not try to balance a hot plate on his lap right now. He sits, and Patton places the plate in front of him. Virgil’s eyes go wide. In addition to the lasagna, there’s a slice of home-baked bread with butter and jam, and a small heap of peas and corn. “Just how big do you think my appetite is?”

Patton chuckles. “Sorry,” he says. “Force of habit. Roman would clean that plate and then ask for seconds, especially after sleeping through breakfast.”

“I can believe it,” Virgil says with a laugh.

Patton pats his shoulder, then moves away. “If it’s too much, we can put some of it back,” he says as he reclaims the armchair. “You don’t have to eat all of it.”

He’s certainly going to give it his best go, Virgil’s stomach informs him seriously. His tongue agrees.

Virgil starts with a large bite of bread. It’s no longer fresh-baked, but Patton had re-warmed it. Toasted, maybe? There’s a bit of crunch to it, though it’s still pleasantly soft, not hard as a rock like most toast.

Roman makes an appearance when Virgil’s about halfway through his meal, wearing only a white tank top and a pair of red shorts. Virgil isn’t sure if they’re loose boxer shorts or thin actual shorts, but he’s not about to stare at Roman’s crotch and/or ass long enough to figure it out, and he’s certainly not about to ask.

Probably they’re actual shorts. Roman has so far struck him as having somewhat more decorum than Remus, and probably wouldn’t walk around in just his underwear with a random person in his house.

Probably.

“Ooh, that looks delicious, I want some of that, is there more?” Roman says in greeting, completely oblivious to Virgil’s inner musings.

“There’s one piece of lasagna left, and plenty of the rest,” Patton tells him, and Roman strides into the kitchen.

He returns after a few minutes with a lunch identical to Virgil’s, except that the heap of vegetables is taller, and he has a second, already half-eaten slice of bread in his hand. Also his jam is a different color. Roman plonks himself down in the chair diagonally adjacent to Virgil and grins at him. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully. “I see you did not flee into the night like Cinderella.”

“If I was going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, it would have happened well before Patton came to tell us to go to bed,” Virgil points out.

“True,” Roman agrees. He turns and points his fork at Patton. “Patty Cake, if he ever turns into a pumpkin, don’t bake him into a pie,” he says.

Patton laughs. “How many times must I promise not to eat him?” he asks.

“Once more, it seems,” Virgil says. “For what it’s worth, I believed you the first time.”

Patton’s eyes twinkle. “I appreciate that.”

“Did you sleep well?” Roman asks Virgil. Virgil nods. As if he could have slept poorly, in that bed. And it was certainly nice to get to sleep in late. “Good, good. After breakfast, do you wanna watch more tv?”

Virgil laughs. “You’re insatiable,” he says.

“We left off on a cliffhanger!” Roman defends. “And I, for one, was thoroughly enjoying myself up until the point at which we were reminded of the cruel passage of time and the physical needs of our frail human bodies.”

“I was having fun too,” Virgil agrees. And, well, he doesn’t have any better plans for his afternoon off. It’ll be fun. He’ll just have to remember to actually bike home before it gets dark again.

“Excellent!” Roman says, clearly taking that as a yes, and tucks into his meal with gusto.

~~~~

Chapter 9: Come for the Bike, Stay for the Game Night

may have a brief break in my regularly scheduled chapter posting, as I've caught up to myself and am still writing chapter 9. So, we'll see if it's ready next week, but likely not.