#and then get through the rest of my personal to do list for the evening

[sugxto]

open circuit - eddie x volt drabble

⋆syn: there's something about you that's catching Eddie and Volt's interest. They... discuss exactly what they want to do about it.

⋆wc: 2.6k

⋆cw: explicit m/m, frottage, dirty talk - they're fantasizing about you and getting off on it, basically

⋆notes: takes place after you've worked with eddie to fix up the club, before the final night of their route. the person eddie and volt are discussing is completely gender neutral. they're referred to as "human," with they/them pronouns, and no descriptions of genitalia or features. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

“I’m telling you that we should fuck them. Give the little live wire one hell of a night.” Volt’s eyes narrow, and Eddie feels his hand on his side dip lower, glide along the waist of his pants, and a finger hitches around a belt loop. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about them too.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to, because Volt already knows he has.

open circuit

The toolbox swings shut with a metallic thud, and Eddie is relieved to not have to hold a pair of pliers, hopefully, for the rest of the night.

That should be enough, he thinks to himself, just enough to get them through tonight, maybe even tomorrow if Volt didn’t over do it. He repeats the reassurances over and over his in mind as he puts the tools away, wanting, needing to believe it.

The tools away, he makes his way down the hall to the bar office, pressing a thumb to the space between his eyebrows as he mentally goes over what smaller tasks could possibly be left on the to-do list. Wipe down the glasses, restock the whiskey, wipe down the -

He’s suddenly thrown against the wall of the office, just as he rounds the door, his breath leaving his lungs in a surprised gasp. He blinks, and nearly rolls his eyes at the glowing mess of white bolts that greet him. Of course.

“I’m working, Volt,” he grumbles, making his face stoic, but he’s curious about the playful glint in Volt’s eyes. He doesn’t show it, though. “What do you want?”

Volt cocks his head, a familiar smirk on his lips. Eddie knows that smirk too well, knows how it can get anyone at their bar to order another round, how it can convince Daisuke to lend them the crystal glasses, how it can crumble Eddie’s resolve if the situation is right.

“And what makes you think I want something, hm?” As Volt speaks, he rests a hand on the wall next to Eddie’s waist, blocking him if were to move to the door. “Can’t we just take a break together?”

Eddie sighs, rolls his eyes. “No. I don’t have time, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to ensure we don’t blow a fuse every night.” 

“Yes, I have noticed. An excellent job you’re doing too, my darling.” Volt’s eyes rake over Eddie’s face, pausing on his lips, before meeting his eyes again. “You and the human are very good together.”

Fuck.

Eddie feels his face get hot, and his nostrils flare, but he remains still, not willing to give Volt the satisfaction of a reaction. 

But still, Volt smiles, leaning his face down, closer to Eddie’s, the tips of their noses almost touching. “You thought I wouldn’t hear you two making a racket the last few days? Did I overhear something about a ladder?”

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself, a thought forming slowly in his exhausted brain, and he searches Volt’s white eyes for something amiss before saying, “You’re not mad they’re helping?”

“Helping you? Eddie, despite how you reassure me, well, more like lie to me, every morning that you did indeed sleep, I’m overjoyed they’re helping,” Volt says, his lightning brows arching on his forehead. 

Huh.

That wasn’t the reaction Eddie was expecting. 

He’d convinced himself that Volt might, well, explode if he knew someone else was touching their wires, helping to regulate the very power he released every night. But more than that, Volt was… prone to jealousy.

It wasn’t like either of them had virtuous pasts - they spent their first few years after Volt sparked into existence almost dancing around each other, trying to find distractions in whatever came through the door of the Breaker Box. But, once they’d found each other, acknowledged the spark, the current, that connected their very beings, there was no one else. 

Volt was still a flirt, that couldn’t be helped, and it was good for business, they both knew. That didn’t bother Eddie - it was him that Volt came home to every night, but more than that, it was his very essence that gave Volt life. Nothing would ever be able to come between that. Not even when Bev would get hammered every so often, and grab onto Eddie's vest for “balance,” and Volt would appear seemingly out of thin air, a blue tint on his cheeks as he’d escort her out.

He’d made Volt out of necessity, and in turn, Volt lived to protect him. And Volt did not like anyone getting in his way.

So, it surprises Eddie, the voice Volt uses to reference the human - like he’s eager, waiting, for someone to open a present he’s gifting. 

“Really?” Eddie asks, a bit incredulous.

“Really.” Volt’s hand moves to Eddie’s waist, stroking his thumb over the wires on his vest. His eyes are playful, and Eddie tries to ignore the way it makes his heart skip a bit. “They’re quite something, aren’t they?”

Eddie shrugs, makes a face that he hopes displays nonchalance. “I guess. They keep coming back, for some reason.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Volt chuckles, cupping Eddie’s face with his other hand, his thumb tilting his chin up. “You can’t be that oblivious.”

Eddie doesn’t like that tone, like he’s missing something, left out of a secret, and he furrows his brow, his gaze a challenge to his partner. “Oblivious to what, Volt?”

Volt’s grin is nearly sinister, and he turns his head, brings his lips to Eddie’s ear, and whispers, in the softest voice, “They want us.”

Eddie snaps his head, Volt’s eyes shining, that fucking grin still plastered on his face.

That - that couldn’t be right.

Sure, they were a bit of a flirt - he knew that, from how they flushed at Volt’s greetings, from an innuendo or two they’d thrown at him during a work break the other day. But it was Volt they were interested in, surely. Why they offered to help, show up before the club even opened, because it meant something to Volt. It was always Volt.

Except…

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I actually like spending time with you?”

Eddie swallows, steels his gaze against Volt’s white hot stare. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Volt’s grip on Eddie’s waist tightens, and their hips meet as Volt backs him further against the wall. “They ask about you, you know, even as I flash them all my little tricks. And it’s not that they don’t reciprocate the energy - it’s actually refreshing, how well they keep up with me - but.” Volt licks his lips. “I think, one of us just wouldn’t be enough for them.”

That - no.

Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to believe that. That the shimmer he’d seen in their eyes could be for him, for them, and not just the prospect that Volt would have their way just once more.

He couldn’t.

So he lowers his voice, and grabs Volt’s collar, pulls him down to him. “So what - are you telling me you plan on fucking them?” His voice is like a dare, a tone that he knows can keep Volt in check if need be. But it’s less solid than usual.

“Mm, Eddie,” Volt purrs, and his hand travels down from Eddie’s cheek to rest on his neck, “looking a little green, darling.”

He tugs again. “Are you?”

Volt chuckles, shakes his head. “Not at all.” Sparks practically fly from his eyes. “I’m telling you that we should fuck them. Give the little live wire one hell of a night.” Volt’s eyes narrow, and Eddie feels his hand on his side dip lower, glide along the waist of his pants, and a finger hitches around a belt loop. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about them too.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to, because Volt already knows he has. 

(Eddie doesn’t know how it works, but sometimes, when they touch, there’s a spark, a current that flows between them, and it’s like they feel each other’s emotions as if they were their own. He tried to study it, years ago, tried to parse out some sort of rationale, some logic, but simply couldn’t. It was just how they were, he concluded, and it didn’t need to make sense to anyone but them.)

But still, he stays quiet, even as Volt’s nimble fingers find the button of his pants, tug the zipper down. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when Volt’s hand cups him, and he knows he’s caught, half-mast and growing by the second.

“Ah,” Volt breathes, and his lips brush Eddie’s, his breath hot, electric, on his skin. “I knew it.”

Eddie groans when Volt finds more pressure, and he pulls at Volt’s collar, forcing their lips together, and they move with practiced precision, their teeth tugging on each other’s lips, tongues swiping into the other’s mouth. He can never get enough of Volt’s mouth, how easy it is, how natural, when it meets his own. He wants to drink Volt down, feel his warmth like a whiskey sour, as long as he’s physically able.

He swipes a lick across Volt’s lips, then across his jaw, and nips at the skin, his cock paying rapt attention to Volt’s resulting gasps. He finds Volt’s ear, catches the lobe with his teeth, and says, “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”

Volt’s lips are on Eddie’s cheek, his breath tickling his ear. “What haven’t I thought about?” His voice is so rich, so deep. “Can’t you just picture it? You, watching me fuck them. Me, watching you fuck them.” His hand wraps around Eddie’s cock, and Eddie curses as he starts slow, languid strokes. “The two of us, inside them, together.”

Eddie can’t help when his breath hitches, when his knees wobble. He’s thought about it too, in the hidden, deep recesses of his mind, in the early hours of the morning between sleep and wake. Imagining the look on their face when either of their cocks would slide inside, taking it exactly how Volt and Eddie gave it to them. 

But he’d never allowed himself to want.

And now, it surged under his skin, made his skin buzz, and fuck, yes, he wants.

Eddie shoves Volt back, but Volt doesn’t seem surprised, allowing Eddie to lead him, blindly, to the desk that sits in the center of the room. When his legs crash against it, Volt sits atop it, scattered papers flying off the surface with the force of impact. He opens his legs, and Eddie slots between them, grinding his cock against the bulge in Volt’s trousers as he grabs Volt’s face and kisses him again.

When his lips trail to Volt’s neck, and his teeth bite down, Volt’s fingers card through the coils of his hair, tugging him closer still. “You can picture it, can’t you, my darling? On their knees for us? Your beautiful wires on their skin?” he moans as Eddie’s teeth find his shoulder. “There’s so much we can do with them. I could fuck you while you had your fill of their cum. Fuck, Eddie, you could fuck me while they ride me. I’d feel so fucking full, Eddie, you know I would.”

Eddie growls, deep from his throat, and he practically rips the zip of Volt’s pants open, wastes no time in freeing Volt’s cock, long and beautiful and leaking onto Eddie’s fingers as he strokes it. His brain is close to frying, it’s racing, and he’s still not sure this is real. This isn’t a concept that he and Volt have discussed, even thought about, regarding any other occupant of the house. It was them, and they were enough.

And yet.

He raises his gaze, finding Volt’s white eyes drunk from Eddie’s touch, from the lust, love, that charges the very air in the room. When he speaks, his voice is gruff, laced with want. “Yes,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Volt’s. “Yes, I can fucking picture it.”

He lets go of Volt’s cock, just for the split second it takes for him to spit into his palm. He rocks his hips, his own cock knocking against Volt’s, whose jaw goes slack from the touch. Eddie’s hand encircles them both, a groan falling from his lips, as his strokes their lengths, once, twice, the heat of their pairing nearly scalding his palm.

Volt gasps, moans Eddie’s name, as their shafts grind together, their hips bucking up unconsciously. His hold on Eddie’s hair is so tight, pain bristles along his scalp, and Eddie relishes it.

Eddie huffs, his hand picking up speed, and keeping his eyes only on Volt’s. “I can fucking hear it, how you’d sound when their mouth is on you. The way they’d beg us. How they sound, fuuck, when they come.”

Volt presses his forehead to Eddie’s, and their breath combines, sharing the very air they inhale. “Yes, Eddie, yes,” he moans, his hips thrusting into Eddie’s hand, slick and hot and right. “You want it, tell me you want it.” As he says it, a hand leaves the coils of Eddie’s hair, finding, like a magnet, Eddie’s hand on their cocks, and joins him, holding, stroking them, together.

Eddie is hanging on by a frayed wire, and Volt’s voice is breaking it down, fast. “Fucks sake, yes, I want it, Volt.” And they are kissing, again, needing each other, wanting each other, as close as their bodies can stand. 

He feels Volt shudder, and a familiar feeling tightens in his belly. He hears, far off in the distances of the logical part of his brain, the sound of lightbulbs popping in the hallway, and the light above them flickers, almost synchronized to their breath.

Their strokes are hurried now, both of them climbing, together, higher and higher and -

They groan their names into each other’s mouth as they cum, their spend mixing and sizzling the skin of their hands as it coats them while their hands slow. Only when Volt makes a small whimper do they stop, and they catch their breath, slowly, sporadic kisses on each other’s noses.

Eddie is the first to speak, barely above a whisper. “Are you sure about this?”

Volt huffs out a small laugh, lets his hand fall from Eddie’s hair to the back of his neck. “Eddie,” he purrs, his voice heavy with satisfaction, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

They clean up with a rag from Eddie’s pocket, tuck themselves back together, readjust each others’ vests and shirt collars. They’re due to open soon, and they have to have some degree of professionalism, after all.

Eddie wonders if they’ll be here right at opening, and old, unfamiliar feeling arises in his chest - Anticipation. Excitement. Want.

When Volt kisses him, sweetly, once they’re back in one piece, he hums at how lucky he is to have Volt. His better half, his whole soul. Where would he be without him?

“Leave it to me to test the waters, alright?” Volt asks, and his lightning eyes are alight with mischief. “I’ll find you, and you’ll know how it goes.”

He nods, trusting Volt’s words more than his own in this new situation they’ve found themselves in. He runs a hand down Volt’s arm, locking one of his fingers around Volt’s, and he smirks. “Unless you’re wrong,” he teases, and Volt rolls his eyes.

“I’m never wrong, darling.”

“Uh huh. You better not be on this,” Eddie says, and turns to leave the office, off to find even more lightbulbs behind the bar. He tosses over his shoulder, “Or you’ll have to find some way to make it up to me.”

Volt’s laugh follows him, echoes down the hallway, and Eddie’s heart feels fuller than it has in weeks. He wonders, only to himself, if there’s even any more space inside it.

The door to the Breaker Box creaks open, and he recognizes the outline, his heart skipping a beat.

Maybe, Eddie thinks, it could grow to hold more.

[satinsnout]

embodying felinity

some discussion of body modifications, health, and lifestyle changes that i plan to take in order to become more feline-like.

note: recommended 18+ viewership. this post contains discussion some may find uncomfortable regarding hunting, bdsm, and body modification. if you are inspired by what i am talking about here, be sure to do research of your own- i am not an expert.

body modification

-body mods: i plan to get a full body sleeve (in between my existing tattoos) of spots and/or stripes. i am also looking to tattoo paw pads on the tops of my feet & the palms of my hands. while vertical paired upper lip and labret piercings may simulate the look of fangs, they're personally not for me. i have 20mm stretched ears & a few other piercings that are affirming, though. i'm looking into large gauge genital piercings too. i am into a lot of mods but not for species reasons (thumb spines, subdermal implants, split tongue).

-dental: i am also not interested in cosmetic dental procedures (they cost too much imo + i am not the best at oral hygiene), but they are an option. i am, however, interested in custom fangsmithing.

-surgery: although i am a female of my species, i got top surgery a few years ago and that was more for species reasons than gender reasons. i don't want to do much else in this category, but i have considered metoidioplasty and/or a hysterectomy.

health

-increasing hydration: cats are prone to dehydration & instinctually i neglect this need too. however, dehydration comes with consequences that i would like to avoid.

-vitamin intake: ensuring i get enough vitamin c, d, omega 3s, and collagen/biotin is very important. felids typically produce their own vitamin c, but my body cannot so i need to make sure i supplement that. vitamin d is needed for calcium absorption & bone health. because i have been on testosterone, and have long term depression, i take this anyway. i cannot do the movement activities listed earlier if i do not keep my bones healthy. collagen/biotin are for nail and hair health. omega 3 supplementation is necessary because my diet is currently lacking them. one day i hope to obtain most of this through diet, but some supplementation will always be necessary. i am researching tongkat ali as well.

lifestyle

-voice training: i have an advantage here in that i have been on hrt, so hitting a low snarl is pretty easy. but i have been working on projecting my speaking voice and my confidence. i want to maintain the ability to make higher pitched noises as well, so im not just focusing on low pitch.

-working on/maintaining my flexibility and introducing more movement to my day to day: living an anthro life means that my body gets very stiff, and it will continue to stiffen as i age.. unless i work on it! i'm working on a daily morning stretching plan as well as finding additional activities, like dance or swimming.

-similarly, strength and endurance: us big cats are intended to take down prey & we are ambush predators! we also have large territories to walk. i walk a lot already as a college student, but i am hoping to find a new favorite trail to hike! i used to rock climb and i hope to get back into that.

-posture: my body holds positions it does not like to hold. this lifestyle change and those mentioned above involve a bit of research on my end about the muscular and skeletal structure of my 'type and humans. doing this research will show me what is going to be more comfortable for my body.

-allocating more time to rest: so far i've talked about "im going to x im going to z" but i also need to give myself more time to decompress. i'm guilty of disrespecting the human needs of mine, but even more so my felid need for downtime.

-forming a social group of animalfolks: although i lean more towards solitary felids, i do think emulating animal social structures would be beneficial to me. additionally, i plan on telling the important humans in my life that i'm an animal.

-sourcing my own food: i come from a family that hunts, and plan to get my small game & fishing license. my partner and i are also about to garden. get your hands dirty when it comes to food! it is affirming (and a variable diet including wild foods is better for you from an evolutionary standpoint)

-incorporate my animality into my kink & bdsm life: i’ll keep this part brief here (i’ll expand elsewhere), but i need to accept all parts of my animality. i’ve been working on this one for quite some time now.

-nudity: i hope to find more avenues to wear less clothing. around my apartment & appropriate settings. i’d also love to find somewhere to swim nude.

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged disabled Simon pt 2

think I'm going to make this a series, this part ends a little angsty though. part one

You've been living with Simon for two weeks now and things have started changing with him. You make all his meals now, you can't stand to see him eating the terrible, small, prepackaged foods every night, you even tried to teach him how to cook which was an even bigger mess than you thought it could be. You wanted to start with something simple so you tried to get him to make spaghetti, everything was fine at first but you left once and when you came back the pasta was on fire and he put the pasta sauce in the microwave which then exploded making a giant mess, so you gave up any hope for him cooking from then on. 

On a happier note though, he’ll eat his food before you now, and he takes his mask fully off at dinner, you've also noticed some mornings he leaves it off for a little longer. He still rarely talks but sometimes you think he asks you things just to hear you talk, you've even noticed him following you around the house, he'll just stand in the doorway staring at you, after a bit he'll either leave or find a place to sit. But imagine your surprise when he decided he was gonna follow you as you run errands, he simply replied “jus’ keepin ya safe” when you tried to object. 

So here you are going down your list getting everything you need with a giant hulking shadow following around, you have to admit though you do feel safer knowing no one will even try coming up to you with Simon glaring at them behind you. Last thing on your list is meat, so you both head over to the butcher shop. You're looking around before Simon pulls you back “wha- Simon what is your problem?” “My problem is this store. Everything is overpriced, half the meat is cut with the grain not against it, and the other half is bad, we're not buying meat from ‘ere” he said plain as can be before walking out expecting you to follow, which you did cause you were still in shock you hadn’t heard him talk that much ever. 

But right as you got to the door an employee called out to you. “Welcome in, how can i help you” you stopped walking and turned around to answer him, but simon cut you off “don’ need your help, all your meats are bad” you immediately tried smoothing out the situation “n-no what he's trying to say is-” but the man behind the counter cut you off “you have no idea what your talking, these meats are the best in town, you know nothing about meat” he said coming around the counter “half ya meat is literally turning brown, worked at a butcher shop for two years, so ya i do know” simon replied getting in between you and the man “are we going have a problem, Simon?” That was the wrong thing to say, Simon immediately jumped forward slicing through the tension as he grabbed the man's collar lifting him off the ground. You were trying to get Simon to let the man down, but Simon wasn’t responding to you. You watched simon lean forward closer to the man “don’ talk to me like that if ya like breethin” 

that was it “simon enough” you pulled him away from the man, who was now flat on the floor, pulling Simon straight to the car. “Simon you can't threaten people, I get you were a lieutenant for years but here you're just a normal person, do you understand?”but when you looked at Simon he didn’t look well. “Simon, are you okay?” “y-yeah, let's go home, ya?” something was off but you just went home knowing he wasn't going to tell you.

Simon was off for the rest of the day, he refused lunch and stayed completely quiet in his room all day, now it’s dinner and he hasn't even picked up his fork “Simon, you need to eat” “price will bring all the meat you need later tonight” “Simon eat” you said plain and firm not letting him distract you, slowly he lifted his shaking hand as he grabbed his fork and tried to eat food but his hand kept shaking worse and worse, immediately you were up and standing by his side “Simon are you okay” you grabbed his hand feeling and examining it, then you felt him gently tug your shirt with his other hand “I can't feel my right side, I-it hurts”

part three

[kuidore]

Zoeystery headcanons ✧ KPOP Demon Hunters ✧ Zoey x Mystery

✧ ultimate yapper girl x listener boy

✧ He thought she was cute the moment he saw her bouncing her shoulders to soda pop while Rumi and Mira glared at her

✧ he’s not shy, just quiet. he just isn’t used to being human, and it tires him out a lot more than the others.

✧ He slowly feels like he’s actually relearning his humanity with Zoey, not just going through the motions of a human life like he had felt doing the idol thing

✧ Zoey gets anxious that people aren’t listening to her if they get too quiet. She’s used to being mid-ramble, asking a question, and not getting a response because the person tuned out and she didn’t realize

✧ after the first time she asks Mystery if he’s listening, he starts letting out noises of acknowledgement to reassure her while she’s talking so she doesn’t have to lose her train of thought

✧ he wants her to know that he’s listening very intently, and will sometimes even just say it out loud when he doesn’t have a better comment to make

✧ Zoey thinks it’s adorable, and she slowly feels less and less uncomfortable rambling for hours about television or animals or the songs she wanted to write

✧ She eventually just naturally stops apologizing for rambling or being too over the top, to him and to other people

✧ He starts getting better at conversations, but only with her. He asks social questions he used to think were stupid or boring or useless, because she’s the only one whose answers he actually wants to hear

✧ Mystery remembers nothing from his actual life on earth before the demon realm, and that doesn’t change even as he gets more comfortable as a ‘human’

✧ He couldn’t care less. He outright tells Zoey that it “leaves more room in my brain for the memories we make”

✧ she has to excuse herself from the room for a moment and yell into a pillow about how cute he is

✧ He can hear her doing it. when she comes back with a notebook he’s smiling wider than she thought he was even capable of

✧ she sits him down and they make a bucket list of everything she can think of that she considers “necessary to the human experience”, no matter how small

✧ she feels bad about being *excited* over his amnesia, but she can’t help but chatter about how she was going to be ‘introducing him to all this new stuff!’

✧ items on this list include but are not limited to; seeing the ocean in person, finding a really cool rock that you wanna keep forever, going to the bathhouse, and spending an entire day on the couch

✧ Mystery doesn’t really see what’s interesting about any of it, but he agrees because he wants Zoey to go with him

✧ He likes it, mostly because *she* likes it. He could be literally stranded in the arctic, if Zoey was finding a way to have fun he would be able to do it too. His number one idea of ‘fun’ is just… being around her.

✧ Mystery constantly wants to have Zoey on his lap/between his legs/sitting in literally any position where he can wrap his entire body around her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder.

✧ he falls asleep like this fairly often. Zoey calls him her weighted blanket

✧ in general they both sleep a lot, they take afternoon naps together almost every day

✧ After enough time he’s got basically everything human down besides the ‘not barking at people who get too close to Zoey for his comfort’

✧ that one is an active choice. He has absolutely no intention of stopping that one

✧ bad saja boy became bad Mystery fairly quickly

✧ He pouts every time she says it. At first she felt bad about it, but eventually she started to find it cute

✧ he’ll sit with his head in her lap while she writes lyrics. She’s always patting his head and playing with his hair while mumbling about how soft it is.

✧ one day he realizes the whole time she’s been avoiding his bangs, and he grabs her hand and moves them away himself so she can see his face when she isn’t actively trying to kill him

✧ “You already know what I look like. I don’t care. If it’s just you.”

✧ She’s so giddy she grabs him and kisses him for the first time, and they’re both a little shocked by it

✧ it was the first time she saw him blush and she immediately became determined to make him do it as much as possible.

✧ She already has a notebook of things he likes and dislikes so she can remember (she has ones for Rumi and Mira too obvi)

✧ she adds a section to Mystery’s for things that make him blush

✧ she’s studying this guy like a bug and he secretly likes it

✧ He keeps the bangs cause most of the time he’s just so unable to control his own facial expressions that he would probably get into a fight in public

✧ but he starts pinning them back when he’s with Zoey

[clockwayswrites]

Dead on MAYn Day 6

Trope | Enemies at First Sight/Scar Soulmates

Dialogue | "I would believe that you're fine, but that's a knife sticking out of your goddamn leg, so…"

cw: blood, medical care, scars

“Hey, um, are… you okay? Can I call someone? Or, like, help you get somewhere?”

“I’m fine,” Red Hood growled back at the voice from the bright edge of the alley.

“Yeah, I would believe that you're fine, but that's a knife sticking out of your goddamn leg, so…”

Hood snorted, the sound ugly through the mask. “Yeah. Hurts like a mother too.”

“I’m sure.” The figure was a broad one—broader than Hood was maybe. It seemed like they filled up the entrance to alley. It wasn’t threatening though. In fact, they seemed almost hunched in on themselves. “I’ve got my bike close. I can give you a ride to wherever you need and completely forget where I’ve been after.”

“Yeah? Good at forgetting, are you?” Hood rasped.

“I’m a college student in the middle of finals, chances are I won’t remember this at all,” they said dryly.

“If you try anything, I can still kill you,” Hood pointed out.

“No doubt of that at all!” they said, way too cheerfully. “I’ll grab my bike and be right back.”

Hood let his head thump back against the wall. He gave it an eighty:twenty that guy would come back himself. Forty:sixty that they would try something on the way. Seventy:thirty that this would come back to bite him in the ass later. But his leg fucking hurt.

He could save himself some trouble now and later if he got dropped of at Leslie’s instead of a safe house. The clinic being somewhere Red Hood would shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. It would mean a lecture, though. And possibly some heat for Leslie.

He was pretty sure the knife didn’t hit anything vital.

Hood was just pulling out the last of the bandages he’d need with the person came back. The roar of a beast of a bike was the first hint, and then their shadow blocked the alleyway for a moment before they approached.

They were pretty nondescript. Unruly Black hair, slightly scruffy beard like they jut hadn’t had time to trip it up lately. They had on a hoodie under a worn leather jacket and jeans. It was only the bright turquoise eyes that really caught Hood’s attention.

“Time for the knife to come out? Let me help with the bandages while you do the pulling,” they said, still annoyingly cheerful.

“I could kill you with the knife,” Hood pointed out, just to be ornery.

The guy just snorted. “Sure, you could, but you wouldn’t. You’re the Red Hood and I’ve not fucked with anything on your nope list. Hell, the worst thing I’ve done this month is glared at a little old abuela because she was talking so loudly on her phone on the subway. Like, okay, you’re old, you’re look one sneeze away from scattering into dust, I’m sure there’s hearing loss, but spare the rest of us, you know?”

As they chattered, they took the bandages from Hood and then squatted down. And Jesus their thighs rivaled Hood’s. They made quite a sight down there at Hood’s feet like that.

Fuck, get a hold of yourself, Hood. So it’s been a long time, but this wasn’t the time.

Hood yanked the knife out with a bit back noise. The guy’s hands were there instantly, pressing the gauze down tightly for a little bit before wrapping it under the bandage. It was crude, but Hood just needed it to last to the safe house where he could clean it up properly.

He tossed the guy a wet wipe to clean up with and then took the trash and stowed it away to burn later. Then Hood pushed himself up off the wall, ignoring the offered hand, and limped towards the entrance of the alleyway.

The bike was impressive, even Hood had to admit it. His fingers itched a little to poke and prod at the beast. It was an old school hog, or a least that’s where most of it’s bit came from, but it was clearly a custom work in progress. It actually looked like it could support both of them too.

“He’s a looker, isn’t he?” the guy asked with a proud smile. “Not done yet, of course, but I’m working on it! Oh, I’m Danny.”

“Danny,” Hood repeated with a little nod. “He/him fine?”

Danny blinked in surprise at the consideration. “Yeah, good with me. Um, right, I know you know how to ride, just signal where you want me to turn and things.”

Hood gave a little nod, waited for Danny to climb on to his bike and put his helmet on, and then carefully settled behind him. The engine roared to life with a lovely purr and then they were of.

Danny didn’t try anything.

“I knew you were going to be a fucking problem,” Hood growled as he stalked across the roof to where Danny stood bashfully, as if he hadn’t just basically put up a bat signal to summon Hood.

Two out of three wasn’t bad.

-

“I mean, I didn’t show up at your house or anything!” Danny defended. “I just—look, we just need to talk.”

Hood crossed his arms. “Talk?”

“Or I’ll talk, and you can just listen! That’s fine too!” Danny said. “Look, so after I took you where you needed to go a few weeks ago I went home, showered, and crashed hard. But then I woke up and—look, I’m sorry for this, but you’re the one who got stabbed there!”

And then Danny started undoing his pants.

Which, what? Hood was pretty sure that he wasn’t dreaming this time. He focused on imagining a red ball to check if he was lucid dreaming.

Nope, nothing.

Danny was still pulling down his jeans over his very well toned thighs. And Jesus if Jason hadn’t been having dreams before—

“See?” Danny said. “I have a fresh scar right where you’ve been stabbed! And I haven’t done anything that could have given me it.”

There was indeed a pink, freshly healing scar on Danny’s legs, right where Hood had been stabbed. But Danny couldn’t be implying that.

“That’s one scar, it doesn’t prove anything,” Jason snapped even as he stepped closer.

Scar soulmates were one of the rarer types. Jason had never even considered having one. He had always thought empathy was mostly likely for him, with his moods. No one should have the scars that he had. No one should share his marks, not even a soulmate.

“It’s just one little scar, I know.” Danny yanked his jeans back up but didn’t bother fastening them before he pulled his shirt and hoodie up instead. An ugly, surgical Y crossed his chest. “But this one’s a little more distinctive.”

Jason stumbled back from Danny, hand pressed to his own chest.

Danny just stepped forward. “You had to have wondered where that came from. People don’t just get a scar like that.”

“What?”

“It’s—I was—”

Jason shook his head. “No, that’s my scar. I died.”

Danny paused. “What?”

“I died. And then I woke up in my coffin. I had that scar. I always assumed it was an autopsy scar…” but that didn’t make any sense, did it? Why would Bruce have let an autopsy happen? It was clear how Jason had died. And that how was revealing, too revealing. Why had Jason never thought of that before? Why had he assumed? “But… it’s not, is it. It’s yours?”

Danny nodded.

Anger surged through Jason, bubbled up like the growl in the back of his throat. He stalked forward. This time, Danny took a step back.

“Who did that to you?” Jason growled. He yanked Danny’s shirt back up and pressed his gloved fingers over the scar. “Who hurt you?”

“Well, you know, the usual. Shadowy government organization intent on studying me like a lab rat,” Danny said with an awkward chuckle.

Jason was going to get more information than that. He was going to find them and end them for what they had done to Danny. He was going to—

“Hood, breathe,” Danny said. “I’m okay now. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

Jason ran his fingers over Danny’s side and the round scar there. A bullet from his Robin days. Batman had been pissed after that one. Or was it worried?

“Can we—is there somewhere we can go to talk this over? I’m not… I’m not expecting anything from you,” Danny said in a way that already sounded heartbroken, “but I feel like we should at least talk about it, right?”

“Yeah.” Jason swallowed back his nerves and every part of him that wanted to wrap Danny up in his arms and never let go. “Yeah. Come on, I have a safe house close. We can talk there. We can talk about everything.”

---

Danny, who always knew cause wow Jason has a lot of scars, patting Jason's back and very amused and flattered that Red Hood wants to go destroy the GIW for him. Maybe Danny will let him.

AN:

Jason, who thought he didn't have a soulmate and that meant something because he didn't have the normal types and he didn't get (noticeable) scars because all of Danny's big ones were as Phantom, clinging desperately to Danny like ;-;

[rafesangelita]

♡ bsf!rafe reads something he wasn’t supposed to..

warnings: use of the name ‘daddy’ (kinda a lot, so if you don’t like this nickname, don’t read pls), male masturbation, handjob (but not really??), suggestive ending

ding—!

rafe’s ears perked up at the sound of your phone going off, a series of notifications ringing out as you sat in front of your vanity. applying the lipgloss rafe loved so much, you eyed his reflection in the mirror as he laid sprawled out on your bed, patiently waiting for you to be done with your makeup so you two could go out for dinner. “can you check my phone, please ray? it’s probably one of my girlfriends.” he grabbed the device from where it sat on your nightstand, your playlist playing softly in the background as he unlocked your phone, opening your recent text threads.

scanning down the list, his eyes zeroed in on the name ‘josh ♡’, his jaw clenching as he clicked on the contact. you were too busy singing along to your favorite song and spritzing your face with setting spray to notice rafe scrolling through your private messages with another guy, his eyes scanning down the flirtatious advances and even a few selfies here and there. you looked amazing in them, of course, and he couldn’t stand that you had granted another person to see you looking that good. scrolling down to the most recent messages, he read the texts you two exchanged just last night.

[8:21 PM] josh ♡ : why won’t you just call me daddy? like how do you expect this to go any further if you don’t call me what i want you to?

[8:27 PM] do you hear yourself? if me not calling you daddy is what’s going to be a factor in us not speaking to each other anymore, then that’s perfectly fine. you aren’t even ‘daddy’ material.. my best friend has more grit than you do.

“what was it?” your voice made rafe jump, his eyes widening slightly as he shook his head, trying his best not to show that you had completely flipped his world upside down with a single name. “oh, just some text alerts from sephora.” he cleared his throat awkwardly before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. once he was away from you, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his mind racing at what exactly you were insinuating in your text. he didn’t know what to think. were you alluding to the fact that he was indeed ‘daddy material’ or were you just trying to piss off that loser?

putting his own kinks aside, rafe cursed under his breath as he imagined you referring to him as that god forsaken word, the dirty thoughts in his head only being fueled by him not even having to ask you to call him something as depraved as daddy. he envisioned you so many times crying out for him, his fantasy of fucking his best friend haunting him every single night. groaning at the reminder that you were basically forbidden fruit, rafe sighed out in frustration when his jeans suddenly felt two sizes too tight. “rafe, i’m ready!” you sung out, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor in the hallway.

rafe panicked, shouting out a “o-okay, i’ll be right out!” as you snapped pictures of yourself for your instagram story. while you were scrolling aimlessly on your phone to pass time, rafe was splashing cold water on himself in a poor attempt to get his cock to stop straining against his pants, a groan leaving his lips as he palmed himself through the denim material. you froze when you heard the sound, your eyes lifting up from your phone as you fixated your gaze on the door knob. “rafe? are you okay?” as soon as he heard your voice, he shut the water off to the sink. “fuck— yes! yes, i’m fine!”

you continued waiting, now sitting at the top of the stairs while rafe struggled to tug one out. “come on, what the fuck?!” he whispered to himself, his cock aching mean and rock hard in his fist. “i’m starving!” you whined, resting your forehead against the staircase. “okay, that’s just unfair. i waited nearly two hours for you to get ready and now you can’t wait for me when i have an actual problem going on?!” rafe grumbled, his jaw ticking as he only made himself feel more embarrassed than he already was. problem? you turned around, walking over to the door.

you could hear him breathing heavy, a slick sound making your eyebrows knit in confusion. biting your cheek, you whispered a ‘fuck it..’ before opening the door, your jaw dropping to the floor at the sight. “oh, shit—!” rafe cupped himself, hiding everything from your view as you stood there dumbfounded. “why would you come in here?!” he shouted, your eyes raking down his form until they settled on his hands. “that’s why you’re taking so long? because you’re too busy jerking off?” rafe watched as you stepped closer, his eyes screwing shut as you leaned against the counter.

“i’ve been trying to make it go away,” he shifted uncomfortably, “it’s not like i can control this.” you were standing just a few feet away from the very thing that’s made you lose sleep just thinking about. you two had it so bad for each other and neither of you had a single clue about it. rafe stared at you as you blinked up at him, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes. “sooo.. what happened?” he shook his head, feeling slightly guilty that you caught him doing this in your bathroom. “look, we don’t need to go over anything—”

“you saw my texts with that guy, didn’t you?”

rafe swallowed thickly, a sigh leaving his lips before he nodded. “how did you know?” rafe asked, embarrassed. “i looked at my phone when you ran off over here and saw that the messages had been opened.” he narrowed his gaze at you, a shock of realization hitting him. “you knew i was going to see them. that’s why you asked me to check who was texting you.” rafe watched as your lips curved into a smile, his eyes turning dark as you put your hand over his. “i would’ve called you daddy a long time ago if it meant finding you like this.” you pulled his hand away so he wasn’t concealing himself from your view anymore, his jaw clenching as you took him in your palm.

he felt hot and heavy as you stroked him, his forehead falling against your shoulder. “oh, fuck,” he moaned, pulling you closer to him so that you could feel his bulge poking your tummy, “say it again.” rafe lifted his head, both of you sharing a knowing look before you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. he immediately tasted the sweet vanilla of your lipgloss, both of you pausing to take in the fact that you were actually kissing each other after all this time of just being friends. bringing your mouth close to his ear, you pecked the sensitive spot on his neck before whispering.

“daddy, will you please take me back to my room?”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊˚── Synopsis: Sevika has grown awfully fond of the owner of Zaun's only bakery; in fact, she'd do anything for her. So, when a hard heat hits the baker, Sevika can't help but offer a helping hand.

Word Count: 3.3k Content/Warnings: omegaverse! if it's not your thing don't read it; nsfw, top!sev, bottom!reader, soft dom!sev, reader is referred to w fem terms/pronouns, reader has female anatomy, sev has a dick bc i think all alpha's do?? idk im new here A/N: so... heyyyy guys... yes i know this is not on my wip list but i was struck with divine inspiration and who am i to work against higher forces! this is my first time dabbling in omegaverse so i hope it suffices...

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

 ──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

There’s something tugging at Sevika.

She’s already scanned the room for what it could be, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. The booth she routinely occupies at The Last Drop feels no different than it ever has, the playing cards and poker chips littering the rickety wooden table in front of her are just as beat up as they always are, and her drunken opponents are as easy to beat as ever.

She’s slouched back against the wall behind her, brows furrowed and eyes trained on the half-empty glass of whiskey dampening its paper coaster. The anticipation buzzing around her shouldn’t feel so foreign; the woman’s M.O. is to be at attention, at all times, with no exceptions. Still, there's a hum of urgency that's much louder tonight than usual. Something is telling her-something is demanding her-to remain alert, attentive, ready to be of service.

Her flesh hand twitches, fingers squeezing around the rim of the glass she holds for a split second.

Someone needs her. Someone needs her now.

She can’t put her finger on who it could be, or why it could be, so she taps at the glass’s rim with it instead.

A voice, gruff after nearly a lifetime of smoking, pulls her from her concentration on ripples running through liquid amber.

“You even payin’ attention?” The ash of his cigar falls onto the table as the hand that holds it gestures towards her chips.

On an ordinary night, she’d shoot the shit. Give him a playful scoff. Tell him that she wasn’t paying attention at all, and somehow, she was still kicking his ass.

But, despite the normalcy of The Last Drop’s Friday night debauchery, despite the inventory she’d taken of her surroundings telling her that everything should be okay, she still can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

It’s pulling her to her feet now. She downs the rest of her whiskey as she stands, mumbling something about everyone splitting her earnings evenly as she walks off. Her opponents are left entirely confused and a little bit richer as they watch her stride away with her usual purpose.

Where this pull is taking her, she has no idea. Frankly, she doesn’t care. She no longer feels her stomach wrenching as she tries to fight off the force yanking at her cloak, begging her to go wherever she’s going now. With every step, there is clarity.

Someone needs her. Someone needs her now.

She's getting closer to them. With every step she takes, she finds that her lungs are easier to fill now that she knows this person needn’t worry any longer.

When she ends up at your door, her entire body melts on exhale.

Of all the people in the world, there’s no one else she’d rather be needed by.

Be it the chaos that had ensued just before meeting you for the first time, or the way you seemed to calm her stormy seas at first glance, she remembers it like it was yesterday.

She remembers swinging the bakery’s door open in a panic, eyes wide and wild as they hurriedly scanned the room for a head of fluffy hair dyed blue.

“I’ve got her,” a voice rang out. A voice like honey to match your honeysuckle scent, she immediately noted.

You stood behind the counter, placing a piping bag down and wiping your hands on your blush-colored apron with a shy smile.

Lo and behold, there sat Isha, perched on the marble countertop next to you. She stared up at Sevika with big, innocent eyes; far too innocent for a girl who’d just escaped Sevika's grasp and booked it to the bakery she’d been begging to visit for weeks now.

“She’s quick,” you chortle. “Sugar may not have been the best idea, now that I think of it…”

You look over at the small girl whose mouth was now opening as wide as it could go to take a bite of the blueberry muffin you’d given her. It was too late. She was hooked and sure as shit to be bouncing off of the walls, now.

Sevika’s eyes trail from the crumbs stuck to Isha’s lips to the affectionate smile gracing your own. It was too late. You were sweet as honey, and she was hooked, too.

That was nearly a year ago, now. Trips to the bakery slowly but surely changed from Isha’s demand to Sevika’s suggestion. Eventually, Sevika began visiting on her own; before work to get a coffee, during her breaks to grab a cheese danish, after work to pick up a blueberry muffin for Isha.

It would have been less-than-chivalrous if she hadn’t begun offering to hang around until you closed shop so she could walk you home, would have been impolite to decline the Sunday afternoon taste-testing sessions you’d started inviting her over for.

She’s a gentlewoman. It’s only principle. That’s what she tells herself, at least.

That’s what she tells herself as her knuckles tap thrice on your door.

She starts to feel antsy again when you don’t come bounding to the door as usual, when your honeyed voice doesn't call out that you’ll be right there. She worries even more when you do reach the door, but it doesn’t swing open to reveal a bright smile, a pretty girl covered in flour and smelling of vanilla. Instead, you flick the deadbolt to the right, trail back to your room, and leave the door unlocked for her to enter of her own accord.

Her stomach turns like the doorknob she’s grasping, but as soon as the door opens, she knows what’s wrong.

The blossom of honeysuckle in the spring floats through the air. This much was a given; she knows this is what she’ll smell when she’s around you.

Tonight, though, it’s honeysuckle and something else. Something thick, hitting her like a brick wall. A white musk that nearly knocks her back when it crosses the threshold of your apartment door to meet her in the hallway.

She’s quick to step in and even quicker to close the door behind her. That scent was sure to attract unwanted visitors: Alphas looking to sink their gnashing teeth into something sweet.

She twists the deadbolt back to the left, her eyes darting across the room to find you. When that doesn’t suffice-when you’re nowhere to be seen- she follows your scent trail instead. Follows it back to your room, where her heart nearly breaks at the sight before her.

You’ve got what she figures must be every pillow in the house propped up against the headboard, every blanket you own pushed down to the foot of the bed, and you sit at the center of it all with your legs pulled into your chest, your head buried in your knees, and your arms wrapped around the ball you’ve curled yourself into.

There’s a pedestal fan pointed directly at you, despite the oversized sweater you adorn. You’re refusing to take it off, she bets. Want something soft and warm wrapped around you at all costs, even if it means you’ll sweat through it.

A soft grin spreads across her face as she approaches, slow and steady. It was her turn to calm your storm, now.

She sinks to her knees next to your bed, elbows resting on the flower-shaped throw pillow she remembers you buying when you were out shopping in the square with her one day. She’d taken a liking to it herself, always opting to rest her head on its pink petals as she stretched her long legs along the length of your couch, or holding it close to her chest as the two of you watched yet another horror movie you both knew damn well would keep you up all night.

She tries not to think too much of the fact that of all the pillows stacked upon your bed, it's the one you’ve got right next to you.

Her voice is nearly a whisper when she finally speaks, grey eyes soft and warm as they gaze up at you from her place on the floor.

“Hey, doll.”

All you manage to muster in response is a weary groan.

She exhales through her nose, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Rough heat?”

Your muffled sob cuts through the quiet, and her hand flies out to knead your thigh.

Her eyes widen in sudden consternation. Your skin is a brazier underneath her large palm.

“Janna,” she suddenly calls out, eyes frantic as they travel across your figure. “Y/n, you’re burning up. How long have you had a fever?”

She trades flesh for cold metal, anchoring her mech hand to your thigh in hopes that it’ll cool you down. Her right hand splays across your back, rubbing large circles across its expanse as you sniffle into your knees.

“Two days,” you mumble weakly, and much to her dismay.

Two days was too long for you to be in this state, nevertheless alone.

“I thought I’d have been claimed by now,” you admit, your voice wobbling.

“Don’t talk like that,” she commands. “There’s no timeline for this stuff. It’ll happen when it-”

“It’s not like that!”

Your head finally snaps up from your knees, teary eyes locking onto hers.

“It’s not… It’s not that I can’t find anyone. It’s that I can’t…”

Your voice breaks, and her hand trails up from your back to rest on the back of your neck, her thumb massaging the tightness at the base of your skull as she waits patiently for you to gather yourself.

You’re well aware that in the crux of an already grueling heat is not the best time to share an admission that very well could permanently alter your relationship with the woman you hold dearest. You’re also aware that you won’t be able to keep lying to Sevika for much longer.

You wouldn’t be able to keep lying to yourself for much longer.

Your words are still shaky despite the bracing deep breath you take before speaking.

“I can’t stand anyone else’s scent…”

Her hand stills, but her touch doesn’t falter. Her face doesn’t fall.

She’s still here. She’s still steady, still constant, but she needs you to be sure.

“Anyone else?” She asks, her voice low.

A small huff escapes you. You know Sevika. She doesn’t do vague.

She’s going to make you say it.

“I can’t stand anyone’s scent but yours.”

A pregnant pause settles in between the two of you.

And then, her hand is moving from the back of your neck to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear.

“Do you want me to help?”

You nod fervently, words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

“Want you so bad, it hurts; please, Sev, I-”

Her lips crash into yours, stealing your breath away. Your heart is already racing, your core is already throbbing, you’re already whimpering into her mouth.

It was too late. You were sweet as honey, and she’d just gotten a taste.

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

It’s been hours. She’s been fucking you for hours.

You nearly feel bad for being so insatiable; only nearly, because she had made it very clear very quickly that you needn’t ever apologize for lasting so long, for needing the next round not even five minutes after the last, for wanting it faster, harder, deeper.

You needn’t ever apologize for allowing her the opportunity to take care of you.

Much to your dismay, sometimes taking care of you meant that she would slow down to check in, insist you take a breather, or get you a glass of water. Sevika knows that what you want is to be ravaged, to let your mind go all fuzzy and your body go all limp as she takes you, claims you, breeds you. Sevika knows that what you need is someone looking out for your best interest when you’re all-consumed by your heat, someone who knows that the responsibility of an alpha is to provide far more than a good fuck.

Still, she isn’t surprised that you nearly burst into tears when her pace begins to relent. Janna knows how hard it is for her to stop when you look so pretty laid out for her like this; legs thrown over her shoulders, hands desperately grabbing at firm muscle and cool metal, brows knit together in pleasure as you cry out for her.

She leans down to press a kiss to the beads of sweat forming on your hairline, and knows she needs to stop anyway.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you plead, wrapping your legs around her waist and rolling your hips up into her own, “please don’t stop, please keep going, Sev…”

She plants a kiss on your shoulder this time, the salt of sweat-sticky skin on her lips.

“You’re getting too hot, baby,” she purrs. “We’re not done, I promise. Just need to make sure you cool off for a second.”

You whine in defiance, and she hums in understanding, but you’re too fucked out to do anything but lay there and let her press a cool rag to your forehead and your flushed chest.

“You feelin’ okay, mama?”

She doesn’t miss the way your lip quirks up into the beginnings of a smirk.

“What?” She asks with a grin, bearing the gap in between her teeth. You’d told her it was cute once. The tips of her ears were dark red for the rest of the day.

“Don’t call me that,” you smile.

She just quirks a brow in playful curiosity.

“Not unless you plan on putting a baby in me.”

Her hands still. Her grin falters. For a moment, you worry that you’ve crossed a line.

Then, glittery grey irises go dark like a storm cloud rolling in. Her eyes are lidded, full of desire. Her jaw clenches, her nostrils flare, her muscles twitch for a split second.

Her head dips down to hide in your neck, but there, she finds that honeysuckle and musk hit her even harder here. You don’t miss the way her body writhes atop your own.

“Careful joking around like that,” she husks.

You buck your hips up in a challenge. “Who said I was joking?”

And then, she whines. Sevika whines.

“Couldn’t get you pregnant if I wanted to, doll,” she resigns. “I’m on suppressants.”

“That’s okay,” you coo, hands stroking up and down the length of her back, her skin warm and her muscles strong underneath your palm. “You can pretend. Jus’ want you to cum inside of me.”

This time, she growls, and you don’t miss the way her canines scrape across your pulse point.

She trails open-mouthed kisses from your neck, to your jaw, to the corner of your lips, breath shaky along the way.

Her resolve is crumbling, her restraint weakening. She had found you in need, and now, here she was, just as desperate as you had been.

“Come on, baby,” you urge, voice just over a whisper. “Take me.”

You're flipped over and pinned to the bed in a second. She yanks you up onto your knees by your waist, and her mech hand travels down your spine to push you further into the mattress while her flesh hand works to line herself up in between your legs. You gasp when you feel her sliding through your slick, whine when she presses an inch in before slipping back out and dipping down to nudge your swollen bud of nerves, groan when she finally presses into you completely, the head of her length prodding at your cervix.

She pants above you, both hands settling on your waist as she gives you a moment to adjust, and as soon as you're pushing back against her, she’s snapping her hips into you. Her grip is bruising as she pulls you back to meet every thrust. Your hands fly out to grab at the sheets next to you, your heady cries of pleasure muffled by the soft pillows piled at the head of the bed.

“How’s that? Huh?”

Her voice is gravelly from exertion. Sexier than it already is. How that’s even possible, you’re not sure. You don’t care. You can’t even think.

Sevika leans down to nip at your earlobe.

“Talk to me, baby,” she rasps. “This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck a baby into you, hm? Wanted me to make you mine?”

You nod frantically, babbling out a yes, sobbing into the pillow. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, hiccupping against the breath you can’t seem to catch.

“I’ve got you,” she croons, her pace gentler now. “Deep breath for me, doll.”

Her flesh hand interlaces with your own, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into the meaty flesh between your thumb and your forefinger. You nod with a whimper, following her command.

“Good girl.”

She reaches down in between your slick-covered thighs to circle at your clit, rubbing lazy circles in tandem with her slow, deep strokes. She hisses at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around her, grits her teeth as she begins to speed up.

You make it so damn hard for her to keep it together, reaching up to grab the hair at the nape of her neck and pushing her head down into your shoulder. She knows exactly what you’re asking for.

Her bite.

You’re asking her to sink her teeth into sugar, and Sevika’s always had a sweet tooth.

She clenches her jaw even tighter. Takes deep breaths through her nose. Fucks you into the mattress instead.

The bite will come later. When you’re not in heat, when you’re thinking clearly, when you can comprehend that what you’re asking for is to be bound to her. When it does come- when you do ask for that- she’ll say yes. No question.

She’s been yours since the moment she walked through the bakery’s doors nearly a year ago.

But right now, she’s here to take care of you. Nothing more, nothing in return.

A voice like honey rings out like music to her ears.

“Oh- fuck, don’t stop. Mm- gonna… gonna cum…”

“That’s right, baby. Give me another, yeah?”

And when she latches onto the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, sucking just hard enough for you to feel a dull pinch, you fall apart, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

That’s when she liked her name most. When it came from you.

This time, it’s what pushes her over the edge. It’s all nearly too much; the sound of you moaning her name, your scent inundating her senses, the feeling of you tightening around her, the pulse that thrums against her canines.

Shimmer doesn’t even make her feel this feral.

You can feel her twitching against your walls as she fucks you through your release with a new vigor.

“Fuck,” she grits, “say the word and I’ll pull out.”

“Don’t.”

Sugar meets spice. Your command is stern, and Sevika is good at following orders.

She ruts into you with a broken moan, hissing with each involuntary twitch of her hips as she spills into you.

Soon, she joins you in a leaden slump, her warm body caging you in and her cock still sheathed inside of you. The hum of the pedestal fan and the rasp of your pants fill the room like white noise.

And then, you giggle. A blissed out, breathy giggle that has the corner of Sevika’s mouth quirking up into a smile.

“What?” she pants.

“Nothing. Jus’ happy.”

She hums in contentment. “Feel better?”

“Much better.”

And Sevika can’t ignore the way her heart flutters, the pride she feels knowing she was able to take care of you, the desire she has to take care of you for as long as she lives.

The bite will come later, she reminds herself. Right now, there’s just you. Sweet as honey.

“Good,” she muses. “That’s what I’m here for.”

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

p.s. anybody want pt.2 feat. reader getting sev's bite...?

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[alisonsfics]

better kisser

pairing: john walker x reader

summary: your boyfriend was a dick, no way around it. and john loathed him. tonight is no different when the three of you and the rest of the thunderbolts go to a hockey game. so when you and john end up on the kiss cam, john seizes his shot.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cheating, toxic relationship, cocky/smug/flirty walker, mentions of smut

“You excited, baby?” You asked, looking over at your boyfriend, Ryan.

Bucky had surprised the whole team with tickets to a hockey game. Alexei had been talking for weeks about wanting to learn about non-Russian sports. Bucky had mainly bought the tickets to shut him up.

There’d been enough tickets for some friends of the team to join you: including Ryan.

Ryan was, on his best day, an asshole. The entire team loathed him, especially because they adored you so much.

Ryan shrugged your hand out of his, brushing off your question. “Why do we have to hang out with your friends?” He groaned. You took a deep breath, trying to remember the things you loved about Ryan— even though that list shrunk daily.

“I want you to have a good relationship with my friends. It’s important to me. Why do you hate them so much?” You asked in a hushed tone. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he made it harder each time. John’s familiar eyes glanced back and found yours.

He tried to read your expression— to judge whether he needed to step in or not. All your friends saw through the happy couple facade, but John took a more direct approach.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Ryan groaned, annoyed that he was even having this conversation.

“C’mon, baby. Just talk to me,” you begged him. You reached out for his hand, but he tensed and retracted.

John noticed the way your face fell as your boyfriend pulled away from you. He jogged back towards you. Anything he could do to make you feel less alone— he’d do it.

You glanced over at John as he joined you. You saw that knowing look in his eyes— the same one he had anytime Ryan was around.

“Hey, Ryan, buddy. Don’t know if you noticed, but your girlfriend was actually trying to hold your hand. So, maybe stop being a dick and treat her with some respect.” John snapped.

“John, don’t—” you grabbed his forearm. Before you could try to deescalate the situation, Ryan shot back.

“How about you do it for me? Since you always seem so willing to insert yourself into our relationship. Or, crazy idea, mind your fucking business.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

John meant well, he always did. And he made you feel so protected, but he knew just how to push Ryan’s buttons— and he seemed to enjoy it.

His eyes caught your gaze. He recognized the look you gave him instantly— ease up on him, please.

He gave you a short nod and dropped the topic. He stayed glued to your side as you all waited in the line to get through security. Any time Ryan looked at him, he’d just scowl in response.

“I’m going to get a beer.” Ryan rushed off after you all got through security.

You had to fight to keep the disappointment off your face. “You alright?” Bucky asked you, cautiously.

Everyone on the team recognized your expression— the pretending to be okay even though your world is crumbling. They’d all worn that expression before.

“I’m fine. He just had a rough day at work. That’s it.” You lied, unconvincingly.

They all nodded— not even slightly believing you. Yelena gave you a sympathetic smile. It gave you a pit in your stomach. It always did— the pity.

You knew that they were your friends and they cared about your wellbeing, but you hated feeling like they pitied you. “Why don’t you guys go find the seats? We’ll catch up in a bit.” John said, nodding at the others.

John Walker was the last person you’d expected to bond with when you joined the Thunderbolts turned New Avengers. But slowly, you’d both started to care for each other.

And he’d started to become fiercely protective of you. Especially when your boyfriend was being an ass.

As soon as they left, you felt John’s gaze on you. It burned into your skin as you focused on the ground. His finger ghosted over your hips— there was a hesitancy in the way he touched you.

He slowly tugged you towards him.

“Why do you do that, Walker? You know it just winds him up.” You asked, still not having the courage to face him.

He stepped closer towards you. It was force of habit at this point— he always felt like he was being drawn towards you like a magnet.

He nudged your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His blue eyes bore into yours. It felt like he could see right into your soul.

“You deserve better.” He said, softly.

It was just three words, but there was so much more unspoken. Don’t stay with him. Be with me. Let me take care of you the way he can’t.

“He loves me. He just has bad days.” You covered for Ryan as you’d done countless times before.

Even you didn’t know why you were still with him. Probably just nostalgia at this point. You’d been together since high school. He wasn’t always cold and standoffish. It was only in the last year that things had soured.

Every time you told yourself that you were going to call it quits, you were reminded of all the good times.

“I’m only saying this because I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Every time you’re around him, you seem tense. And he acts like such a jackass. You can do so much better than him.” He told you, softly.

His rough calloused fingers traveled lightly down your side. He caressed your hand slowly. His eyes were glued on your face. He’d stop the minute you told him to— but you didn’t. He started to slot his fingers in yours when Ryan appeared at your side.

You jumped away from John, startled by Ryan’s presence. You followed Ryan's gaze to where your hands had been connected five seconds ago.

The way Ryan was clenching his jaw was a pretty good indicator that he’d seen it. “Ready to go to the seats?” John asked. He was technically asking both of you, but his eyes never left yours.

You started to step towards him, but Ryan grabbed your wrist. “We’ll catch up. We’re just gonna chat for a minute.” Ryan said through clenched teeth.

Ryan’s tight grip on your wrist made John’s skin crawl. He wanted to pry him off of you and break every bone in his hand. Then, he could finally sweep you up off your feet— away from Ryan.

“Call me if you need me.” John told you before walking away. He didn’t care if Ryan heard him— in fact, he hoped he did. He wanted Ryan to know that he had to answer to him if he hurt you.

“What is your fucking problem tonight?” You hissed at Ryan.

He scoffed. You wanted to smack the smug look off his face. “I’m being a pretty good sport considering I have to spend the whole night with your friends.” He told you.

You took a deep breath— feeling the air fill up your lungs and hoping it would replace the rage in your body. “They’ve been so friendly and accommodating. They keep trying to get to know you, and you brush them off.” You argued.

They were some of your best friends, and you hated hearing Ryan bash them when they’d been more than welcoming.

“They all act like they don’t like me. And don’t get me started on Walker.” He ranted.

You sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. “Oh my god. You’re always ranting about John. Nothing is going on between us. If you’re that insecure that you can’t handle me being friends with a guy, just say that.” You snapped.

“Oh, bullshit. He wants to get in your pants and you know it.” He yelled, drawing attention from other guests. You could feel the eyes on you— it made your skin crawl.

“No, he doesn’t. And stop yelling.” You said, smacking his hand.

He rolled his eyes. “Stop being so naive. Everyone can see it. He’s into you, and it pisses him off that you’re not his.” He explained.

You brushed him off— hating the voice in the back of your head that told you he was right. Ryan sulked behind you as you both headed towards your seats.

There were two empty seats on the end next to John. “Oh, that’s fucking perfect,” Ryan muttered behind you.

You felt the team’s eyes on you as you approached your seat. Concern written across all of their faces.

You both sat down silently. “You alright?” You heard John quietly whisper beside you. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead, knowing Ryan would lose it if he saw you both talking.

When he only heard silence in response, he frantically looked over at you. That’s when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Count your fucking days, Ryan.” John snarled at him before slipping some tissues into your hand.

“Yeah yeah go fuck yourself,” Ryan mumbled in response.

This encounter had grabbed the whole group’s attention. The boys were debating punching Ryan in the face. At the other end of your row, Yelena and Ava were watching how heartbroken you looked. “There’s an extra seat down here, love. C’mere for a minute.” Ava waved you over towards them.

You slowly stood up. John noticed how much your hands were shaking. His heart fractured into pieces. You carefully walked past all the guys— each of them gave your hand a quick squeeze as you passed them.

The girls quickly pulled you into a hug and comforted you. They were the closest things you had to sisters. They’d been there for every long night after a fight with Ryan.

John turned in his seat, facing Ryan. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to keep up the protective friend act when she’s not here.” Ryan said, sensing his gaze.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John snapped.

Ryan chuckled. He’d gladly take any shot to get under John’s skin. “Being glued to my girlfriend’s side. You don’t have to pretend it comes from friendship. We all know you just want to fuck her. And I know you can’t stand that I’m the only one who gets to fuck her.” He said.

John clenched his fists— it was becoming harder and harder to keep his cool. John was riled up, and Ryan knew.

It was John’s turn. He knew you’d probably kill him if you heard him, but he wanted to put Ryan in his place— even if he had to lie to do it.

“If that helps you sleep at night, go ahead and keep thinking that. But, do you really think I haven’t fucked her already? What exactly do you think happens on our long missions? Somebody has to keep her satisfied, and she knows to come to me and not you.” John said, with a cocky smirk.

Every last word of it was lies, but Ryan ate it right up. “What the fuck?” He asked, mouth agape.

Next to John, Bucky was covering his mouth to keep from laughing. Less than a hundred words and John was in Ryan’s head.

“You’re bluffing.” Ryan said, still in disbelief. John shrugged, shooting him a playful wink. “Am I?” He asked. And Ryan was spiraling again.

A couple seats down, you got a text from Ryan.

Ryan: “You lying bitch. Your little boytoy just told me about your mission hookups. Knew you were lying.”

You quickly typed back a response.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s trying to get under your skin. Just ignore him.”

You got up to go back to your seat— hoping you could quell his anger before it blew up into a big fight. “I promise, he’s just messing with you. Can you just try to be civil, please?” You whispered to Ryan. He sighed and nodded, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

The rest of the game went as smoothly as possible, until Ryan started flirting with the girls sitting behind him. It was revenge— you knew it was just a way to punish you. But you hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

You sat there still, not letting your face show any emotion. That was what he wanted.

You focused your eyes on the screen at the center of the arena. They were showing the kiss cam and random couples.

The few elderly couples made your heart swoon. That was what you wanted— someone to grow old with. You knew that someone wasn’t Ryan. You needed someone to choose you.

John nudged you with his shoulder. “I’m sorry that I lied to him earlier. I should’ve been the bigger person, I know that. I don’t want to do anything that complicates your life. It’s just that…you deserve so much more than him.” He said, genuinely.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a sweet smile. A smile that made him weak in the knees.

“You deserve the fairytale and all that romance shit. Not that asshole,” he said, almost perfectly reading your mind.

Before you could respond, you heard cheering around the arena. You glanced up and realized you and Ryan were on the kiss cam— not that he noticed, he was too busy talking to those girls.

The entire arena roared, and then started booing when they realized your boyfriend was ignoring you. You looked over at Ryan, hoping for him to just turn his head.

Looking back up at the kiss cam, you shrugged your shoulders, earning a laugh from the crowd.

Then, the camera operator started to scoot the camera, so that you and John were in the frame. You could hear the “Ooooo’s” from around the room.

The heat rushed to your cheeks. Suddenly, the attention was making your skin burn. The commotion finally got Ryan’s attention. His eyes went wide as he saw the both of you on the screen.

He jumped to his feet, frantically waving his hands in front of you. “No, she’s my girlfriend.” He yelled, desperately trying to stop anything from happening.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the smirk on John’s face. He scanned your face, waiting until he saw the start of a smile.

It was a blur. Suddenly, he was cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it. You felt your entire body relax and melt into his touch.

He smirked against your lips as Ryan started to protest. He cupped the back of your head, devouring you.

Your stomach was doing flips as his lips attacked yours. The kiss was hungry— and made you feel wanted.

You heard cheers and whistles from your friends. You ran your fingers over his chest— trying to memorize the feeling. You wanted to remember every second, in case you woke up and this was all just a dream.

“Fuck both of you,” you heard Ryan complain before he stormed off.

You both pulled out of the kiss— giddy and smiling. John shot his arms up in the air victoriously, earning a cheer from the crowd. He swooped you out of your seat and pulled you into his arms.

“Hi, honey,” he said, the pet name effortlessly rolling off his tongue.

“I’m gonna treat you so much better than he did. I promise,” he said, pecking your lips again.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guiltandguitarstrings @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @iamavailablesstuff @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore  @astheskycries @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @marvelcasey05 @velyssaraptor @amanda08319 @sunwardsss @studentville-struggles @impossibleapricotlampbat @infjwinchester44 @weirdfishy @lickmymelaninn @eternally-timeless @andreasworlsboring101 @glassesandthunderthighs @spiderstyles04 @mostly-marvel-musings @madisondelstan @spookyparadisesheep @beyondthesefourwalls @basicfangirlx @linkpk88 @gonzo-induced-gender-crisis

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my fics or for a specific character/fandom!!

[jadevine]

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[neilsbeloved]

the alchemy

summary: clark’s always been adamant on being private with his personal life. few friends, low profile, and a hushed relationship. he can’t understand why people would want to publicize everything about their life. that is until he sees you talking to one of the school’s football players.

pairing: quarterback!clark x student body president!fem!reader

tags: tooth rotting FLUFF, legally aged students making out, established secret relationships, clark being Whipped with a capital W, slightly insecure clark, emotionally mature reader, football descriptions, no use of y/n

The faint smell of donuts and caramel coffee fill the council office as you hear the soft click of the door lock. You turn around and you're immediately met with your boyfriend, clad in his plaid blue button-up longsleeve shirt, worn-out bag slung over his shoulders, and lips immediately placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Woah, woah, hold it there farm boy," you laugh, placing a hand right in the middle of his chest as his kisses quickly descended to your neck. The thought of him not actually locking the door haunted your mind.

"What?" He breathes. Still continuing his attacks on the column of your neck while carefully placing your food and beverage on your table. "I missed you."

With a little more effort on your push—which was exceptionally hard considering how much Clark has improved in terms of making you lose your mind—he finally pulls away. A bummed-out pout shaping his lips.

You smile even wider. Who knew the big friendly farm boy everyone walks all over on is actually the biggest grump when he doesn't get kisses?

No one, of course. Not one soul in Smallville High School knows because your relationship with Clark isn't even out to the public. Not even your closest friend knows about it—and you're sure his closest friends don't know either.

But it's been like that for three out of the on-going four years you two have spent in Smallville High and so naturally neither of you wanted to break the streak.

You run your head through his soft brown locks, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. Clark's face immediately lights up, already pulling you off of the table you were leaning on to exchange positions. This time, he has a better view of the blank canvas that is your collarbone.

"Missed you," he repeated. "Brought you donuts and coffee from the Talon."

"Didn't know they did deliveries again." You humor him, grabbing the brown bag and pulling a donut out. Clark watched as you point the donut at him, urging him to take a bite. With his eyes locked in yours, he takes a slow and relaxed bite. You wipe the side of his mouth with your finger before taking your own bite. Groaning when the sweet taste of the glazed donut touches your tongue.

"They allow it for certain people." Clark plays along, nodding at you. His eyes wander to the gigantic bulletin board you had in the council office, seeing almost ten listed items now struck-off with a bright red marker. "Specifically people that are overworking themselves again."

You roll your eyes, rolling to his side as you grab the cup of coffee. "Who says I was? I just did my job."

"Babe, you aren't the only one on the council. You can't just cover for everyone's jobs just 'cause they aren't doing theirs," Clark replies, watching you eat.

"Says the one that always takes on Chloe's extra load," You retort with a sly grin. "You do know that the reason most of Chloe's writers are bailing on her is because they don't like her way of gathering her news, right?" You place down the coffee, still eating your donut as you place a hand on the one Clark had resting on the table.

Clark chuckles, "Chloe's my friend, what can I say? She's been like that since fifth grade."

"At least she's passionate about it. It's so rare to see someone so committed in their craft that I can't even deny whenever Chloe asks me for an exclusive… which, mind you, is almost seven times a week." You sigh, head subtly shaking.

"Weren't you the one that wanted somebody aside from me to interview you?" Clark furrows his eyebrows, putting on a thinking face. His eyes squint, "Something along the lines of not getting work done."

Your eyes roll back, finishing the glazed donut in your hand. "Yeah, 'cause I clearly remember how we spent twenty-five minutes eating each other's faces and five minutes actually answering questions."

You throw the crumpled brown bag to the trash bin from afar. You miss, badly, but Clark's quick to distract you from your lack of shooting skills by kissing you. Again.

"Let's shorten that twenty-five minutes then," he smiles into the kiss. Snaking his arm around your waist as he could still taste the sugary taste of the donut on your tongue.

The kiss was anything but sweet. It was full of hunger, desire… and something you can't quite pinpoint. Usually Clark has his own rhythm of sucking the air out of you but this time it's messy—all over the place. Like you'd disappear any moment now if he didn't move faster.

He doesn't mistake the very subtle jingle of door handle. He hears it crystal clear and yet, he doesn't pull away. When the sound registers in your ear, you pull away without a second to think.

You immediately grab a spare folder on the other table. Clearing your throat as you looked down on it, pretending to flip through the papers. Clark on the other hand looked directly at the student who came in.

It was Adam. The same guy he saw you with earlier.

"Oh—is this a bad time? I can come by later?"

"Actually," Clark begins but you cut him off.

"No, it's fine. Do you have a concern?" You ask directly. Putting on your professional mask as you looked at Adam by the door. Ignoring how you can actually feel Clark  glaring holes at the side of your face with his jaw clenched.

Adam stutters. Shifting from you to Clark, then back to you. "I, uh, I was wondering if there were any other tutors available? I'm kinda flunking Chemistry and I need to ace the upcoming test."

"Then study," you hear Clark mumble. It was a little louder than he had expected but who cares, obviously not him.

You inhale sharply, turning your head to the bulletin board for the tutoring sessions for the month. Your shoulders flunk when you see your name under the Chemistry border. The other one—Lana—was already done with her tutoring hours so it was only you left.

Your head turns to Clark. He had already seen the arrangement on the bulletin board, he was looking at you now to wait for your response to Adam's request.

"Uhm, you can take my slot. What time works for you?"

"Any time you're free." Adam smiles at you. Clark rolls his eyes.

You nod unenthusiastically. Taking the clipboard beside Clark and handing it to Adam. "You can write on the 4:30 PM row. I'll be at the library fifteen minutes prior to our schedule, and I can wait for you until quarter to five."

Adam happily writes his name, glancing up to see you and Clark exchanging looks. "Is he signing up for a tutoring class too?"

"No," the two of you say in unison.

Your eyebrows furrow slightly at Clark. The farm boy breathing deeply before he responds. "I'm asking about the, uh, football schedule," he looks at you for confirmation. When you nod approvingly, he does too. "Yeah, the football schedule."

"Oh… Well, shouldn't you be asking Coach Teague that?"

"How would you know?" Clark raises an eyebrow, sounding way sassier than you ever heard him speak. Adam looks at him with subtle surprise, masking it with a friendly smile. "Because I am in the football team?"

The air quickly shifts as Clark and Adam have a stare-down. Only broken off when you clear your throat. Adam reluctantly says goodbye, stepping out of the office with a wave directed to you.

When the door closes, you turn to Clark with your arms crossed. "What?" He groans. He knows that look all too well.

"Are you okay with me tutoring him?" You ask straightforwardly.

"Why wouldn't I be? You've tutored dozens of our classmates over the years." He shrugs. His hand slowly coming up to tug on the strap of his bag.

"You sure? 'Cause it's a yes or no question, Clark. I can have someone else cover for me if you don't want me to tutor him," you say genuinely. Brushing away the lock of hair that fell in front of his handsome face.

Clark's lips purse into a thin line as he nods, hands finding solace on your hips. "Yes, baby, I'm sure. Just… don't overwork yourself, okay? I don't want you gettin' tired from something that isn't even your job."

You bite back a smile, looking into his eyes with stars in yours while he pulls you in for a hug. Your head rests on his shoulder as you wonder to yourself—how exactly did I manage to score a man like this?

"Gotta go, handsome. I'll see you back home," you give him a chaste kiss. Using every self-control you have not to respond to Clark's obvious attempts of deepening the kiss.

The first tutoring session you had with Adam was a quick one. Adam had a pretty solid foundation, he understood the concepts clearly, his only flaw was in his application of said concepts. Usually, he'd do well on the conceptual-based questions while also failing the problems connected to it.

One session wasn't going to cut it and so he booked you for four other sessions. All of which had a longer time frame, extending thirty minutes more from the usual one and a half hour long session. That only meant that you had to spend two hours with him every Tuesday and Thursday for two whole weeks.

Now if Clark didn't find it bothersome the first time, he definitely did now.

"So, uh, we still up for six later?" Adam leans on the locker next to years, smiling.

"Yeah, uh, sure. Of course. I'll see you at the library." You smile back. You quickly turn back to your locker and grab your things fast. Adam wasted no time diving into another subject.

"Oh, by the way, I—y'know, I really appreciate you being my tutor. I know you're juggling a lot of responsibilities and still, you never come to a session late and…" your eyebrow arches, waiting for him to finish. Thankfully, he takes the look in your face as a hint. "I was wondering if you'd let me treat you to a coffee? Just something after our session to show my thanks."

Your response arrives fast, without any hesitation. "No, Adam."

Adam gets caught off-guard by the firmness in your voice. He didn't expect you to say yes right away but he didn't exactly expect you to deny it in a split second too. He thought you'd at least think it over for a minute.

"Oh! But, it's, uh, y'know, coffee as friends. I'm not asking you out on a date," he laughs awkwardly but you could see right through him.

"I appreciate the thought, Adam, but no. If you have any questions about the lessons we're discussing, you can reach out to me—but anything else besides that, please do not." You breathe deeply. Eyes catching on the tall figure at the end of the hall, watching your encounter with Adam. "I have to go. I'll see you at the library."

You don't give Adam a second to respond, immediately slipping out of his sight only to find the end of the hall empty. No plaid-wearing farm boy in sight. You swallow on nothing, beginning to feel a thump in your chest.

It takes you some time of walking around to finally catch a glimpse of him. He was standing beside Chloe, visibly talking about something as they had laughs on their faces. You walk over to them, locking eyes with Clark in the process.

Just as you were about to walk by them—and possibly strike up some small talk—your shoulder gets nudged by your friends.

"Hey! We were looking all over for you! Did you hear the news?" Janet, your friend, says.

"What news?"

"Not so fresh meat just made it onto the roster. Rumor says he's starting quarterback," another friend, Rose, says. Her tone held a bit of bite to it, as if she didn't want him on the spot in the first place.

"Now that's a nice headline," a bright voice speaks. All three of you turning to the shaggy-haired blonde. "What d'you think, Clark? Not so fresh senior meat now starting quarterback. Kinda has a ring to me."

You tried to act naturally, chuckling at Chloe's words despite your friends glaring at them. Since he is the topic, you look at Clark. Eyes round and awaiting a response from him.

He doesn't respond though. He simply shrugs, looking at you like your were nothing before pulling Chloe away from probably stirring up a fight.

"That guy has some problems," Rose rolls her eyes, checking her nails carelessly.

"Yeah. He's already senior and he's only just tried out for football now? Damn. Talk about a late bloomer," Janet says high-fiving Rose.

"At least he's cute… right?" Janet turns to you.

"Huh?"

"Clark Kent. He's cute, right?" When Janet repeats her question, you felt something inside of you twitch. Janet's calling your boyfriend cute, and Rose's agreeing with her too. They're checking your boyfriend out. Shamelessly.

But you can't even worry about that now—your mind is filled with the way Clark looked at you moments ago. Like you were nothing. Like he hasn't met you even once.

Of course, you two hide your relationship to the school but there's always something unspoken of each time you look into each other's eyes. It's a comfort and a pleasure at the same time. A cozy blanket in the cold air. Hot chocolate every Christmas. Donuts and caramel coffee in hidden rendezvouses.

There were none of those when Clark looked at you earlier. You can't help but feel there's something wrong.

"Hey Mr. and Mrs. K! I was wondering if Clark was around?" You ask with a smile.

Your relationship with Clark may be a secret to everyone in Smallville, but his parents are a definite exception. Yours, not so much.

Jonathan and Martha share a look you recognize to be an apologetic one. "He's, uh, he's at the barn. He's been there since he got home." Martha answers with a strained smile.

You feel even weirder because Clark's parents have been nothing short of supportive. You two may have hidden the relationship from them for four months but they definitely enjoyed the idea of their son going out with you.

When you nod determinedly, turning around to head to said barn, Jonathan calls you. "Clark's, uh… you may want to be careful approaching him. He's a bit pent-up, with the football and stuff."

You nod. "Oh, of course! I'll be careful. Maybe he just needs a little cheer up." 

You head over to the barn in haste. Walking up the loft to see Clark with his head down, writing something in his notebook as a stack of textbooks sat beside it.

"Knock knock." You knock on the wooden rails, letting the sound resonate through the barn.

Clark looks up from his notebook, smiling the moment he registers it was you. But you notice his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, you set that aside.

"What a surprise," he replies, voice clipped. "I thought you'd be slumped up with your council work and tutoring."

"And miss out an awesome opportunity to spend time with the charming plaid-wearing farm boy? Pftt, never," you drop yourself beside him. Propping your elbow up on the backrest as you turned your body towards him.

Clark chuckles, looking back down on the coffee table as he began writing again. You felt an even stronger twitch in your body when he does that—ignore you.

He may be tired, drained, or pissed off—but he had never gone through a second of seeing you without kissing you the moment the coast was clear. He'd always sneak in the quickest of kisses even though you two would get caught if he was slower by a millisecond.

"Clark, hey," you touch his shoulder. "I missed you."

His head keeps itself in place, "Missed you too, baby. How was your day?"

"Clearly not as harsh as yours has been. Wanna talk about it? I can spend the night…" you pause. "Oh, also, I heard you're starting quarterback! How'd that happen?"

"Did you now?" He laughs dryly.

The smile on your face falters, his tone felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head without your knowledge. He drops his pen, leaning back on the couch as he actually looks at you for the first time this night.

"Well, the previous one was injured. I stepped in." His answer is short and direct. His voice lacking the enthusiasm you're used to. "How about your day?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"Clark, what's the problem?"

Clark's eyes flicker up towards yours, hurt and anxiety evident in your pupils. He feels a tinge of guilt in his chest. Licking his lips, he reaches out for you only for you to pull away.

"Did I do something wrong?" You question. Though no matter how firm your voice was, Clark knew it was close to breaking.

"No, no, baby, you did nothing wrong—" Clark's voice rises as he panics. Fully reaching out to you so he can pull you to his chest. "It's… it's me, okay? I… I just—" he takes in a deep breath. "Don't you think it's time we made our relationship public?" 

It's clear that you were surprised with his question. The sharp inhale and your raised eyebrows gave it away no doubt. But why wouldn't you be? Not once has Clark ever thought about making your relationship public. In fact, he was the one that actually proposed it in the first place.

You tried your best to understand him though. "Is there a reason why you want to make our relationship public?"

"Babe, we've been hiding our relationship for three years. We started when we were sophomores, we're seniors now. No one can worry about us anymore. We're graduating in a few months—who cares by now?" This is the first time his voice actually held some energy to it. His hands intertwined with yours as he looks at you for approval.

"Clark, I know when you're lying," you say. Clark's throat bobbing up and down as he clenches his jaw. You place a hand on his cheek, your other hand running through his hair comfortingly, "You know you can tell me anything, Clark. Let's talk about this like adults."

It takes him a second to actually decide to speak, and another second to construct the words in his head. "I don't like how people still think you're single," he starts. "The guys talk about you, people in the hall talk about you… I hear so many promises from people that they'll ask you out either after the game or after graduation—regardless, I can't even respond. I can't tell them that you're my girlfriend because in the first place, no one knows about us—no one'd believe me." You feel his heart beat faster. The continuous thump underneath his chest makes your stomach flip as well.

"Call me selfish, but I can't take it when other people look at you and think that they can have you." His voice drops, hands tightening on yours.

"Like Adam?"

A scoff comes from him. "Yeah, like Adam. Have you even heard half of the stuff he says about you in the locker rooms?" Clark's voice raises. His sharp features straining furiously before he feels your hand tighten around his. It prompts him to raise your intertwined hands, kissing your knuckles. "It's nothing bad, baby, believe me. He wouldn't be walkin' straight if they were bad. It was just that he's so in his head that he actually thought he can take you out on a date."

"So this is about Adam?" You arch a brow, testing the waters. When Clark shakes his head, looking away to hide the smile on his face, you laugh. "Well, y'know, farm boy, he actually just asked me out earlier."

"I know. I heard."

"Then you also heard what I responded with?" Your lips widen slowly.

He sighs, turning his head back to you. "Yes, I did."

You smile at him. He returns it, ten times wider than yours. Your heart flips as the smile finally reaches his eyes—finally feeling right.

Quiet envelopes you both. A comfortable silence before you snuggle on his lap, resting your head on his muscular chest. "I understand how you feel, baby."

One of the things Clark loved about you was your ability to always have him heard and understood. Even the dozens of times he's missed your dates, suddenly cancelling unannounced; you've always been there for him with a patient mind, an awaiting ear… and probably a grumpy attitude when Clark specifically dipped on a day you were really looking forward to.

Now, one thing definitely changed; if before you had to trap him in the barn, force him to be honest and say his feelings, you were content that now all you had to do was talk to him sincerely and directly, no interruptions, and no hotheads.

"Does this mean we're going public?" Clark asks cautiously.

You lift your head, letting your chin rest on the center of his chest. "Just do good on the game tomorrow, 'kay farm boy? We'll see how the day goes."

It wasn't the answer Clark wanted, but he accepted it. It was better than giving him the hard no.

And so you laid there the whole night, trying your best to stay awake while Clark told you about his day. His hands running aimlessly through your hair and body until you fell asleep. When you did, he took you to his bedroom and let you sleep there.

A soft and tender kiss on your forehead to end the night.

Loud roars of the crowd could be heard from any side of the field.

The bleachers were packed with people, majority came from Smallville High while some were from the rival school playing. It's been quite some time since the game started and yet, it still feels like a win can be called any moment now.

You were there—since the very start—sitting at the very front row with Chloe by your side. Your friends Janet and Rose sitting away where the cheerleaders were sat. Each time you watched Clark fall short of a goal, you could feel your heart thump even harder.

Way before the game started, you had another little rendezvous with Clark. Giving him the best good luck charm in the form of red lace—which God knows where he kept—and a kiss on the cheek.

Clark's been training for this game for so long now. Weeks of hardworking and sweat come to this very day where he finally gets to earn his teammates' respect.

31-28, in favor of the opponent.

The air gets struck out of your system when you see the opposing team score another point. Slowly building on their lead against the Crows. Your teeth unconsciously nibbles on your lower lip, pulling and biting the soft tissue as you prayed for a plot twist.

"C'mon Clark, c'mon," you mumble under your breath. Glancing at Jonathan and Martha from a far as they too shared nervous and worried looks.

You hear a ring from somewhere, and suddenly they're all splitting into their respective teams. "The Crows asked for a time out," Chloe says. You nod, noting that on the pad of paper that Chloe gave you earlier. Both of you have been noting game highlights since the start of the game.

"Should we try interviewing them?" The blonde was already standing when she asks you that, eyes narrowed at the group of players bundled far from them.

"No." You shake your head. Chloe looks at you weirdly, you sounded way too energetic. "It's not really the best time, Chloe."

Seven seconds remain on the clock. All players head back to the center line as the game resumes back. Your eyes lock with Clark despite the distance. You could barely make out the expression on his face while he could clearly see yours—full of anxiety and hope, hands in a prayer position in the middle of your face.

With a new found drive to make you proud, he turns to the front to look at the opposing team.

You watch as all of the players scramble fast as soon as the clock began. Clark inhaled, clocking his arm back before throwing the football with all of his human force, every fiber in his being hoping that the other quarterback is able to catch it before the time ran out.

The football felt like it was on air for more than five minutes. Every head in the football grounds followed the brown ball as it made its way across the field, every person holding in their breaths as the second player reached up as the time hit two seconds.

On the last second, he lands a touchdown.

Happiness shoots through your body as you jump with Chloe on the stands. Lungs screaming Clark's name as thunderous cheers filled the space, loud enough to even make the ground shake. The players run over to Clark, crashing into him while he throws away his helmet, eyes immediately searching for you. Just you.

Your heart begins beating faster, the idea in your head being thrown away as your legs move on their own.

Clark watches as you rush down the bleachers, sliding past everyone and anyone in your way. Confusion hits him for a second until he finally understands what you're going to do. Shrugging off his teammates, he runs over to the bleachers' side, the amount of adrenaline running in his veins was almost enough to push him to super speed onto your side and lift you up—almost.

The moment you reach the ground, Clark's already jumping over the fence, catching you in his arms.

"Clark!" You yell out, feeling his strong arms tighten around your waist as he spins you around. Your hair moves with the wind as it splatters messily all over Clark's face, his lips stretched into the widest and biggest smile you've ever seen from him. "You did—"

Your words are cut off as Clark lifts you even higher, crashing his lips into yours. The outside world is anything but a figment of his imagination now that he has you in his arms just after winning his first game as a quarterback—and the best thing of it all, was that it was in front of the whole school.

The deafening sound of cheers and wolf whistles make you smile into the kiss, head subtly pulling back only for Clark to hungrily chase after you, not letting you up so easily. When he finally does, with his lips all puffy and swollen, he's staring at you with nothing but affection.

"A real quarterback now, huh?" You tease, smirking lightheartedly at him.

Clark rolls his eyes, lunging forward to give you another kiss on your lips. "Not really, just your boyfriend."

You lose yourself in his smile, only to be pulled away from it when your head moves to the side. You see Clark's parents looking at you two with proud smiles while beside them were his friends—all of which had a shocked look on their faces.

Clark squeezes your side to get your attention back. A contented look grows on his face as he keeps his hold around you, making the moment last just a little longer before you two face the outcome of whatever just happened.

"Ready to put me down, farm boy?"

"Never.”

hearts, reblogs, and comments are highly appreaciated if you loved the fic !

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Sleep-Deprived Overlord Extraordinaire (and the Boy Who Grounds Him)

The thing about Tim Drake is that he’s brilliant. The thing about Tim Drake without sleep is that he’s unhinged.

It always starts subtly. A missed night of sleep here, a triple shift there. His words get sharper, his focus becomes razor-edged, and the bats can practically see the neurons in his brain firing like a thousand fireworks.

Then, somewhere around hour 56 of no sleep, Tim crosses the threshold into full-blown megalomania.

He doesn’t just think he’s smart—he knows it. He’ll drop gems like, “Honestly, Gotham’s infrastructure is appalling. If I really wanted to, I could take over the city in 72 hours, tops,” or “Do you think I could reprogram every Bat-computer in the Cave before Bruce notices? Because I can.”

Which—yeah, okay, the family knows he’s capable of it, but it’s terrifying.

When he’s in this state, Tim walks around with the energy of someone who’s cracked the secrets of the universe and is two steps away from becoming a benevolent dictator. His confidence is unsettling. His hyper-awareness is borderline supernatural.

The bats try. Oh, do they try.

“Tim,” Dick says gently, holding out a cup of chamomile tea and a soft blanket. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Tim doesn’t even glance at him. “Lying down is for the weak, Dick. Also, you left your phone on the counter. Might wanna grab it before someone texts Kori again.”

Dick freezes. He did leave his phone on the counter, and he can only hope Tim didn't do anything with it (Though his comment definitely says otherwise).

“Tim,” Bruce says, the Big Bat Voice in full swing. “You need to rest.”

Tim smirks, flipping through his tablet. “Rest is for the dead, and I’m not in the mood for ghosts tonight. Also, you forgot to update the encryption on your personal server. Again.”

Even Damian tries, but he gets as far as hurling a batarang at Tim’s leg before Tim dodges it without looking. “Tsk tsk, Damian. You’re getting predictable.”

It’s chaos. It’s exhausting.

Enter Danny Fenton.

Danny’s used to Tim’s shenanigans by now. He’s been around for enough of Tim’s sleep-deprivation arcs to know the signs. The sharp eyes, the slightly-too-bright smile, the way he starts muttering plans for world domination like he’s drafting a grocery list.

Danny lets it slide for a while—Tim in hyper-mode is kind of cute, in a “my boyfriend might accidentally take over the world” way. But then he sees the bags under Tim’s eyes, the way his hands tremble just slightly from over-caffeination, and he knows it’s time to intervene.

Danny doesn’t use tea. He doesn’t try reason. He doesn’t even bother with the blanket method.

Instead, Danny steps into the Cave, tilts his head at Tim, and says, “Honey, can we cuddle?”

Tim freezes.

The bats, who have been subjected to hours of Tim’s unrelenting, untouchable brilliance, watch in shock as their insurmountable sibling folds like a deck of cards.

“I—uh—cuddle?” Tim stammers, blinking like a deer in headlights.

Danny smiles, soft and sweet and just shy of smug. “Yeah, I miss you. Come to bed with me?”

Tim’s resolve crumbles. He’s already pulling off his gauntlets. “Yeah, okay. Just for a bit.”

“A bit,” Danny agrees, but he’s already leading Tim upstairs.

The bats are left standing in the Cave, mouths agape.

Jason’s the first to break the silence. “Did we just get out-maneuvered by Tim’s boyfriend? The guy who hangs out with Harley Quinn for fun?”

Dick snorts. “I mean, are we really surprised? Danny’s been handling Tim better than any of us for years.”

Bruce exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “As long as Tim’s resting, I don’t care how it happened. Danny’s good for him.”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees with a shrug. “Kid’s weird, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. And if he can get Replacement to sleep, I’ll send him a damn fruit basket.”

The bats exchange a rare moment of collective relief.

Upstairs, Danny tucks Tim into bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as Tim curls into him. He doesn’t care about strategies or what the bats think. All that matters is Tim, finally at peace in his arms.

"Sleep well, genius," Danny murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. And for the first time in days, Tim does.

[wendichester]

Can I request cute Dean fluff of him realising he’s in love with you when you take care or save Sam from something bc we all know that man would know he’s found the one when she cares just as much for Sam as he does

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ 🩹｡˚ aftercare,

summary. taking care of sam is also taking care of dean ‹𝟹

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 782

notes. the softest boy sigh

You’re kneeling next to Sam, your hands moving quickly as you press a clean rag against the gash on his arm. The hunt had gone sideways—too many moving parts, too many variables—but you’d managed to keep it from going completely off the rails. Now, the three of you are holed up in a shabby motel room, the faint smell of antiseptic mixing with the metallic tang of blood.

Dean stands a few feet away, his hands gripping the back of a chair, watching as you work. He should be helping, should be doing something, but all he can do is stare. There’s a look of determination on your face, tempered by the kind of gentle care that makes his chest ache.

“Hold still, Sam,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm. “I know it hurts, but this needs to be cleaned.”

Sam winces but doesn’t argue. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”

You glance up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because you’re bleeding all over my jeans.”

Sam chuckles weakly, the sound turning into a hiss of pain as you dab at the wound. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bad.”

Dean’s lips twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too busy trying to process the strange, overwhelming warmth blooming in his chest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you take care of someone before—you’ve patched him up more times than he can count—but this feels different. Watching you with Sam, seeing the way you’re willing to get your hands dirty to keep his brother safe... it does something to him.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you say, your tone matter-of-fact as you reach for the first aid kit. “Dean, can you grab me the thread and needle?”

He snaps out of his daze, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” He rummages through the kit, pulling out the supplies and handing them to you. His fingers brush yours, and for a second, he forgets how to breathe.

You don’t notice—or maybe you do, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you focus on threading the needle, your hands steady despite the tension in the room. “This is gonna sting,” you warn Sam, your voice gentle.

“Just do it,” Sam mutters, bracing himself.

Dean watches as you work, your movements precise but careful. You talk to Sam the whole time, distracting him with small jokes and reassurances, and Dean can see the way his brother relaxes under your touch. It’s like you’ve got this magic about you, this ability to make even the worst situations feel manageable.

When you finally finish, tying off the last stitch, you sit back on your heels and let out a sigh. “There. You’re all patched up. Try not to rip it open again, okay?”

Sam gives you a small smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all that.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I did. What kind of person would I be if I let you bleed out in a crappy motel room?”

Dean’s heart stumbles in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone cared about Sam like that—someone who wasn’t him. And it’s not just the act of taking care of him; it’s the way you do it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like Sam’s life is just as important to you as it is to him.

You stand up, brushing off your hands, and glance at Dean. “He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. And food. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten since this morning?”

Dean blinks, caught off guard. “Uh... no. Not really.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Alright, I’ll order something. You two sit tight.”

As you step into the adjoining room to make the call, Dean looks over at Sam. His brother’s eyes are already closing, exhaustion pulling him under, but there’s a faint smile on his face.

When you come back, carrying your phone and rattling off a list of takeout options, Dean feels it hit him like a freight train. This is it. This is love. It’s not just about how he feels when you’re around—it’s about how you make everything better. How you make him better. How you’d do anything for Sam, the way he would.

You catch him staring and raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean shakes his head, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “Nothing,” he says, his voice warm. “Just... thanks. For everything.”

Your expression softens, and you give him a small smile in return. “Always.”

Dean watches you for a moment longer, the realization settling deep in his bones. He’s in love with you. And if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he ever stood a chance.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas

[lia-linny]

summary: A hilarious TikTok trend changes yn's life when her crush sees the funny video titled "reasons why i would date Lee Felix" and a notification pops up in her phone the day after: "@leefelix_brownieboy posted a video"

genre: fluff, Highschool au, social media romance

words: 1.9k

"What about Wooyoung?"

The chatter in the school cafeteria was as loud as ever, but at the table where yn sat with her friends, it felt like a world of its own. Loud, chaotic, and full of giggles. Typical teenage conversations were held, from the latest fashion trends to celebrity gossip. That day, they first passionately discussed how cute Bang Chan and his new girlfriend the skater girl looked together. Then, the topic had shifted to relationships in general, and her friends had started wondering why yn was still single. Determined to change that as soon as possible, they decided to set her up with someone. All they needed now was to find someone who match all her criteria.

"Wooyoung is way too flirty for me," yn replied with a smirk to Karina’s question.

"Jungwon?" Winter chimed in.

"Nah... not really my type..." Yn was sitting between Karina and Winter, across from Ningning and Giselle, while her friends worked through their mental list of guys with the precision of a detective team. As she twirled the straw in her iced tea can, Giselle asked:

"Sunghoon? Figure skater energy?"

"I’d fall, and he’d definitely laugh at me." That sparked another round of giggles.

Giselle rested her chin in her hand. "Girl, your type doesn’t even exist. You’re picky times ten."

"That’s called having standards," yn shot back with a grin but deep down, she knew her friend was right. She had never been someone who fell in love easily. She preferred to watch, analyze, and take her time. If you were going to fall, then it should be for the right one, right? Why waste time just to find out that he is an asshole?

"Okay, wait." Ningning leaned in, her voice a little softer, almost teasing. "What about Felix?" Something tightened in yn’s stomach. Bullseye.

"Felix?"

"Yeah, you know. Bakes like a god, gamer, freckles." All eyes turned to her. Yn had tried to stay neutral, but the telltale blush on her cheeks had given her away. Plus, she was pretty sure anyone within a ten-kilometer radius could hear her pounding heartbeat.

"Oh my God, she’s blushing!" Karina exclaimed.

"He’s just..." yn sighed, playing with her fork in the food. "He’s exactly my type. Looks-wise. Personality-wise. He’s just so..."

"Sunshine?" Giselle teased with a grin. Yn nodded slowly, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

"Guys, I think our angel is in love! Omg, we have to get them together!!! Sunshine meets sunshine!"

"You two TikTok nerds would vibe perfectly," Winter said.

"You’d go viral before you’re even official!" Ningning laughed. Yn laughed along, but one thought stuck in her mind. Felix. She had never really talked to him just a few fleeting glances in the hallway, maybe some mutual TikTok likes but something about him felt... magnetic.

She pushed the thought aside. It was just a fun conversation among friends, nothing more. It wasn’t like she actually had anything to do with him...

But later that night, while scrolling through TikTok and stumbling upon the new trend “Reasons why I would date…”, a thought flickered. What if?

It was just after midnight, the light in yn’s room dimmed, only the fairy lights above her desk casting a warm, flickering glow across the walls. Her finger hovered above the record button. It was just for fun. She propped up her phone on a stack of books, fixed her hair, and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt slightly over her forehead for the vibe. Then she hit record.

“Reasons why I would date... Lee Felix.”

For social media, yn had scraped together every bit of confidence she could find. It was meant to be funny. She looked at the camera with a grin as she raised her fingers one by one, counting off the reasons.

"1. He's nicer to strangers than 90% of people will ever be.

2. He bakes. And well. I mean, come on.

3. His freckles are cuter than anything I’ve ever seen. They are like little stars on his face. It looks so friendly.

4. His laugh. I can’t even explain it, but my heart literally does a flip. I’m convinced that every time Felix smiles, he saves a life somewhere in the world.

5. His voice is fucking hot..."

At the last point, she had to giggl a bit and hid her face in her hands. She ended the video with a crooked smile and added a caption:

@ just.yn'n.bakin: just girly things ~ only my mutuals will see this anyway lol 🍪☀️"

The next morning, she had just wanted to check if her best friend had replied to one of her messages. Instead, TikTok had been blinking with 999+ new notifications. Her eyes widened with shock.

"Oh my God." The video had gone viral overnight. Not “haha a few likes”-viral. Millions of views. And tens of thousands of comments, like: “I ship you two SO HARD.” “Felix, you’ve got 24 hours, bro.” “Manifesting this relationship.” “Why am I crying over this???”

Yn stared at the screen as her fingers trembled.

Ping!

Message from Karina: “YOU’RE GOING VIRAL?!”

Then Winter: “Felix definitely saw it.” Seconds later, another one: “He’s literally liking the comments?? Girl I see your love story already!”

Her heart had started racing fast. Faster. Way too fast. She had never thought this would turn into something real when she recorded the video. She hadn’t even dreamed that Felix might actually see it. Somehow, it all felt... embarrassing. Did it make her seem hopelessly in love? Would he find it weird? Cringe? She could already imagine a response video: "Reasons why I would NOT date yn!!!!!! 🤢🤮😂"

Ping!

Notification TikTok: “@leefelix_brownieboy posted a new video.” Still trying to steady her breathing, she quickly tapped the push notification. Her video the one she had half-jokingly recorded before bed was now part of a duet.

Left side: her original. Right side: Felix.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed in a hoodie, a blanket half-draped over his legs, his hair messy. But his grin was bright and a little shy. He let the video play in full lenght without interrupting, but it was clear he was struggling not to laugh. His cheeks growing redder with every reason she listed.

Yn, watching, had also turned increasingly red as she saw Felix listening to every single word she had said about him the night before. And just when she was about to die of embarrassment... He started his own list.

“Reasons why I would date yn.

Sunshine recognizes sunshine.

2. She bakes better than me. And I don’t say that lightly. You can literally taste the love in her baking. I almost proposed to her when she handed out those cinnamon rolls on her birthday last year.

3. She makes TikToks that are meant just for her friends and still manages to make me laugh so hard I’ve got a whole folder where I save them.

4. She always likes the same TikToks I do. It’s creepy. But cute. She’s funnier than she admits.

5. And… she stole my heart faster than my friends could even send me her video."

At the end, he looked straight into the camera, tilted his head slightly, his tone soft almost unsure but clearly meant for her.

“Yn, if you’re watching this… I wouldn’t be uninterested. Just saying.” The video had ended with a wink, and her eyes had immediately jumped to the caption:

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Someone tell her I’ll be looking for her in the hallway today.

~☆~

Yn felt like every pair of eyes in the hallway was on her. And she probably wasn’t wrong at least three students had already smiled at her like she was some kind of local celebrity. Some of the younger girls, standing in a whispering circle, looked like they were seconds away from asking for a selfie, the way they were dreamily staring at yn.

She tried her best at stucking close to Karina as they made their way to the lockers. But then yn heard a familiar voice. The same voice she had, just yesterday, publicly declared as hot. “Hey.”

She turned around. Felix stood right in front of her, hands tucked into his pockets, that same crooked grin from his TikTok but somehow more real in person. From the far end of the hallway, the group of girls squealed in delight, and yn was pretty sure one of them was about to faint.

“So… uh. Sunshine meets sunshine, huh?” His gaze turned a little cautious, like he was trying to gauge her reaction. Yn let out a soft laugh, then nodded.

“I guess TikTok shipps us.”

“Then we probably shouldn’t disappoint the internet,” he said with a smirk. A brief pause followed. Yn couldn’t quite tell if he was flirting or asking if she wanted to film a TikTok together.

“Kinda random but... coffee after school? Or cupcake baking? I’ll bring the ingredients, you bring that love-recipe of yours?” Yn’s grin grew.

“Only if you help bake.”

“Deal.”

TikTok or date? Maybe it could be both.

~☆~

The air was thick with the scent of vanilla and melted chocolate, wrapping around the two of them like a second layer of sugar. They both had a natural charm when it came to socializing. Chatting with people had never been hard for either of them but this didn’t feel like just any new aquintance. The conversation flowed easily, jumping from topic to topic, laughter echoing between them as they built inside jokes like it was second nature. Something between them just clicked.

While yn kneaded dough for the second batch with flour-dusted fingers, Felix stood beside her with a piping bag in hand, brows furrowed in concentration like cupcake decorating was a sacred art.

“If you stare at that piece of baked dough any harder, I’m gonna get jealous,” yn teased. Felix looked up, pushed his bottom lip out playfully, and grinned.

“I just want you to know I can do more than TikTok dances. I have to bring out all my baking skills to impress you.” He held up a cupcake with a tiny, hand-drawn heart on top.

“Try it.” She took a bite and immediately burst into laughter.

“You swapped salt and sugar in the frosting, sweetie.”

“What?! No-” He yanked the cupcake back, tasted it himself, and pulled a disgusted face. “Okay, plan B: I bring the romance, you save the flavor.” He wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated flirt, which sent them both into another round of laughter.

Once yn had finished baking the rest of the muffins and they had decorated them this time with actual sweet frosting they arranged the cupcakes neatly on the kitchen table. The phone was clipped into the tripod, TikTok already recording. Felix grinned into the camera.

“Okay, guys, you wanted an update…” He gestured to yn, who gave a shy little wave, cheeks slightly pink. “This gorgeous girl said yes mostly to cupcakes, but also kinda to me.” They both giggled and grabbed a cupcake each, holding them up in front of their faces like silly dough-eyed monsters. And just before the recording timer ran out, Felix leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

@ just.yn’n.baking: From TikTok mutuals to cupcake partners. Recipe for love?

The comments exploded: “STOP I’M CRYING THIS IS TOO WHOLESOME” “The internet really just played cupid for a softboy and a softgirl.” “Think I’ll try TikTok instead of Tinder now. This gives me hope.” “If they start dating I won’t even know which one I’m more jealous of.”

~☆~

A warm Sunday afternoon, sunlight spilling golden through the half-open window. Felix’s room was a cozy mess: a gaming setup in one corner, a plushie on the bed that yn had jokingly given him weeks ago now clearly treasured and a fruit plate his mom had brought in with a knowing look. A TikTok tripod stood in the middle of the room.

“Okay, this time you’re nailing the drop, right?” yn teased.

“Hey! I’ve gotten better.” She tossed him a hair tie with a laugh. He caught it and tried to tie back the loose strands of his long blond hair, but the ponytail failed miserably most of his hair fell right back into his face.

“Let me do it,” she said without thinking and stepped closer, gently gathering his hair in her hands. She was standing so close now that Felix had to swallow hard. When her hands dropped, they looked at each other. Their eyes met long, deep, and quiet. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

They both stepped back, the music started. Three… two… one they danced. But at the crucial part, Felix missed the beat, stumbled, and nearly fell backward straight into yn. She didn’t fall, thankfully, instinctively placing her hands on his waist to steady him. His face was just inches from hers. Suddenly everything went quiet. The music was still playing, but they could barely hear it. Yn’s heart thudded in her chest. Felix’s breath brushed against her cheek. The distance between them was so small. So easy to close. But neither moved. They were too new at this. Too unsure. As far as yn knew, Felix had never had a partner. Neither had she.

Later she saved the video in her drafts. Too sweet to delete. Too intimate to post.

~☆~

A gray Tuesday. The sky above the school looked like someone had drained all the color from it. Thick, looming clouds were gathering. something was definitely brewing up there. And right on cue, as the final bell of the day echoed through the halls, a sudden downpour broke loose.

“Oh no,” yn murmured, clutching her backpack closer. Of course she hadn’t checked her weather app that morning. Now she was standing there no umbrella, no jacket just a light top already fluttering from the sharp wind.

“Here.” Before she could protest, Felix had tugged off his hoodie. warm, soft, smelling like him and pulled it over her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But you’ll get soaked.”

“I’m Australian. I’ve seen worse,” he grinned. They walked through the rain together, shoulders brushing. Even though his shirt was getting soaked, he looked at her like none of it mattered like she was the only thing that did.

Cautiously, she slipped her hand into his. And it felt so right, they practically floated home.

“Keep it warm for me. Or keep yourself warm with it. Both work.” That had been Felix’s last message. He’d walked her home, hoodie and all flashing her a shy smile as he told her to keep it. The butterflies it gave her then? Gone now.

Because the rain had left her with a cold. Her nose was red, her throat scratchy. She layed curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, some random Netflix series droning in the background as she scrolled aimlessly through social media. The day dragged on like molasses. She had canceled on her friends and was now just... existing in a pile of tissues and self-pity.

The soft chime from the doorbell snapped her out of it. Groaning, she shuffled to the door only to blink in surprise when she opened it to see familiar doe eyes and a freckled face. Felix stood there. One hand held a small paper bag, the other a thermos. His hoodie was pulled up over his damp blonde hair, misted with rain. Somehow, that made him look even more handsome.

“Heard you’re not quite yourself today.” yn blinked.

“How did you…?”

“Karina. And the TikTok silence. Very un-yn to not post something silly all day.” He offered the bag to her.

“Cough drops figured your throat’s killing you. And… ginger tea. I know, it tastes like trash, but it works.” She gave a raspy laugh.

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But cute while doing it.” She let him in. They didn’t talk much he sat on the floor while she remained bundled up on the couch. They both scrolled through TikTok, showing each other their favorites now and then. It was low-energy, simple… but somehow perfect. And somewhere between one video and the next, yn fell asleep.

~☆~

The TikTok started with light and romantic pop music. Felix stood in the foreground, Chan holding the phone, and Hyunjin commentating loudly off-camera: “Okay guys, today’s the day. Sunshine’s asking Sunshine!”

Cut.

A timelapse of the boys decorating a small garden, fairy lights twinkled overhead, handmade paper stars hung from branches, and colorful paintings swayed gently in the breeze.

Cut.

Felix, in a pastel yellow shirt, tried to mask his nerves with his signature crooked grin.

“She has no idea,” he said to the camera. “when this works, it’s gotta be the most wholesome TikTok move of the year. Holy crap, I’m nervous.”

Cut.

Yn appeared, led into the garden by Ningning, who could barely suppress her squeal. When yn saw the lights, she froze. Her eyes widened. The boys stood in a line, each holding a sign. Above them hung a banner: "REASONS WHY I WANT YOU TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND:"

Cut.

A clip played showing the signs up close:

1. Because every day with you feels like my favorite song and I never want to hit pause.

2. Because you wear my hoodie like it’s always been yours.

3. Because you’d give me the last cupcake.

4. Because you record our cringe moments and turn them into my favorites.

5. Because you’re sweet. But not just that. You’re brave, smart, funny… and most off all perfect for me.

6. Because your laugh makes me laugh even when I have no idea what’s funny.

7. Because you make me feel chosen. And you’re picky. But you picked me.

At the end, Felix stood there holding a cupcake, his eyes soft, his smile quietly excited.

Cut.

YN’s eyes glistened as the realization hit. Gently, Felix stepped closer.

“Yn… from the first video, I knew you were special. And with every laugh, every cupcake, every second together… I knew it even more.” He cleared his throat, voice shaking slightly as he looked into her eyes.

“So… will you be my girlfriend? Officially? My Sunshine?” Yn covered her mouth, eyes wide. She was laughing half overwhelmed, half head-over-heels.

“Yes. A hundred times yes.” She threw her arms around him, and as cheers erupted behind them, she kissed him. Soft. Warm. Honest.

The boys exploded behind them. Changbin shouted, “FINALLY!” Hyunjin zoomed in dramatically. Seungmin threw confetti. Jisung yelled, “THAT’S MY BOY!”

Pure chaos erupted. The video ended on a freeze frame of the kiss, calmly lit by the fairy lights.

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Sunshine x Sunshine official now! 🙀🥳💙

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

I Don't Hate You (1)

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- As you were about to knock on her door you heard what sounded like a groan. You froze at the door. Did you hurt her badly in training? Was she in pain? Steve was going to kill you. Oh god you had fucked up. “Fuck Y/n, right there please,” the witch moaned and you realised. Oh.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI- Enemies to Lovers?, Dom Reader, Top Reader, Praise, Sub Wanda, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral sex, Multiple Orgasms.

This is an old fic I found from my ao3 so the writing quality isn't that good, apologies but I don't have the time to improve it.

General Master List | Chapter 2

You hated her. She hated you. That was the only thing you and Wanda Maximoff could agree on. The rest of the team had no idea what happened to make you hate a certain witch so much but by the way you acted towards her they could tell it must have been something big. So here you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the Avengers compound with a scowl on your face as Wanda had just entered the room.

“Can’t you just try to be civil with her?” asked Natasha who was your best friend. The spy had been there when they rescued you from Hydra and helped you understand your abilities and control them so you couldn’t hurt anyone else. Natasha was the only person you willingly told about your past. The testing, the abuse, the torture and the stripping of your humanity really did a number on you but you managed to get through it. You had to. With an annoyed look, you turned to the redhead and met her eyes.

“I’m sorry Nat but I just don’t trust her,” you said for what felt like the millionth time. The whole team wanted you two to get along but that was quiet hard as you were both strong independent women who could be annoyingly stubborn. The spy dropped the conversation with a huff and continued to run by old mission files with you. During this you found yourself looking out for a certain brunette and you couldn’t help it. You thought it was just your paranoia acting up as that was a habit you couldn’t shake but you didn’t miss that other odd feeling you felt when looking for her.

“Y/n? Wanda? A word please,” spoke Captain America and you audibly groaned at the names called. You heard her mumbled something under her breath and you just help yourself from being a dick.

“What’s wrong darling?” you sarcastically retort.

“What do you think?” she spat out, her accent thick.

“I think your thinking about having to spend time all alone with me,” you started with a smirk and she just raised her eyebrow at you, “Trying your hardest to keep that little mind of yours from thinking about being under me.” Thanks to your abilities you heard her breath hitch and knew you had riled her up.

“As If I would want to be under you,” she growled but you could see the way her legs slowly squeezed together. You loved teasing her because it always worked and well if you were being honest you had definitely thought about her being under you. The woman was gorgeous! She had a stunning body from all her training, she could kill men twice the size of her and she never backed down from a challenge. How could you not fantasize about her? It would be like some amazing fanfic where the two people who hated each other would some reason have amazing hot sex and maybe fall in love.

“Keep telling yourself that darling,” you said. You were about to tease her even more but a firm grip on your shoulder stopped you.

“Go now,” ordered Natasha and you saluted at her in a mocking manner and walked down the hall to follow the captain and witch. You couldn’t stop yourself and your eyes wandered lower until they reached the brunettes behind. You quickly averted your gaze once you released what you were doing.

“So what’s this for Grandpa,” you joke as he leads you to the training room. You jump up onto the pile of mats to sit on while he just rolls his eyes at the nickname. You and Steve were close as you both shared the super soldier serum but yours was more enhanced.

“You and Wanda will be sparring partners from now on,” his tone serious and you just laughed.

“You think she could fight me?” your voice shocked. “Wow I’m officially hurt Captain,” for dramatics you placed your hand on your heart and acted as if he had shot you.

“Get down Y/n,” he grumbled but you listened as he was still your friend. “You are going to spar with each other and settle your differences otherwise you are both banned from missions.”

“What?” you and Wanda both asked in unison.

“You heard me,” his tone stern, “Now sort this out so we don’t have to listen to anymore arguing.” With that said he left the room and slammed the door making you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she snapped while tying her hair up and getting in a fighting stance. You looked her up and down unconsciously before clearing your throat.

“Looks like you’ll have plenty of time to be under me darling,” you purred and launched yourself at her. She dodged a few of your punches but you noticed how she put way to much weight onto one of her legs meaning if you swiped at her other-

“Fuck,” she shouted as her back hit the mat and you climbed on top of her to pin her down. You moved her hands over her head while moving your hips to straddle hers. Your faces were inches apart and your smirk was predatory. You looked deeply into her ocean eyes and wondered has she always had such beautiful eyes? You watched as her breathing started to pick up as you moved to whisper in her ear.

“If you want to be under me just ask,” you purred. “I’m sure I could make you scream,” your tone was sultry and as you pulled back you saw her eyes dilate so much only slivers of the green were left. You chuckled at her reaction before getting of her and waiting for her to get back up. You let her make the first move this time and quickly avoided her incoming attacks. You read her movements and analysed her techniques before predicting her next moves. You knew Natasha had trained her mostly so she had learned the spy’s skills but they just weren’t as developed as hers. Once she lifted the weight on one foot you knew she was going to swing her foot at you so you moved back and caught it with your hand. You flipped her over as she was now off balanced but made sure to put a hand on her back before she hit the mat once again. You hated her but that didn’t mean you were going to purposely hurt her. You weren’t like that anymore.

“You really do like being on your back for me,” you teased as you pinned her once again.

“Shut up,” she said with her accent coming out strong. “I’m getting a drink.” You gazed at her as she drank from her water bottle. From where you were you could see the light showing off the sweat that was dripping down the column of her neck and slowly trickling its way to the valley of her breasts. The sight of her was intoxicating and you couldn’t help but stare. You managed to look away before you came off as creepy and she returned to you a few moments later.

“Ready to be beaten again?” you taunted and she just rolled her eyes before throwing a surprise punch. You were impressed but it didn’t work as you countered it and swiped her off her feet once again.

“Wow you really are falling for me,” you joked and she groaned in annoyance. The two of you continued to spar for another hour until Wanda finally called it quits as she was getting annoyed. She managed to land a few hits on you occasionally but would always end up underneath you. When she stormed out of the training room you assumed it was out of frustration as you had being egging her on for ages. However Wanda left in such a hurry as the wetness between her thighs was becoming too much.

Once in her room she quickly shed her self of her sweaty workout clothes and laid down on her bed in nothing but her underwear. She didn’t get why you hated her so much. The only reason she acted the way she did to you was because that’s how you treated her. Wanda pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind as she moved her hands along her sculpted body. Sparring with you had awoken something in her. Yeah sure she had thought about you multiple times while pleasuring herself but to actually be under you and be so close? It had her wet within seconds. Her nimble fingers found themselves teasing her nipples through the fabric of her bra before she moved to unclasp it and throw it somewhere into her room. She pictured you above her, your hands teasing her nipples as she moaned under you. Your name falling out of her lips like a prayer as you took her desperately in her bed. One of her hands moved from her breast to slip underneath the fabric of her underwear and start rubbing circles into her clit. She wondered if you would be dominating during sex as you had that cocky personality or if you were really just a brat who needed to be tamed like she was. She hoped you would take charge and make her scream like you promised. She found herself getting unbearably wet between her thighs as the coil in her stomach started to tighten. She slipped in two fingers and thrusted at a leisurely pace imagining they were your fingers and you were teasing her for being such a brat this morning. Her hips bucked every time her palm brushed her clit and soft whimpers left her lips. She didn’t even notice that she was moaning your name as she edged closer and closer to the edge.

“Y/n,” spoke a voice and you whipped your head around. It was Steve great. “Why did Wanda look so annoyed after training with you?”

“I don’t know maybe because all she did was get pinned to the floor by me? I’m sorry Cap I really am but she’s too easy to fight!” you exclaimed and he sighed in frustration.

“Then why don’t you try and help her improve!” he said and you looked at him confused.

“Isn’t that your job? Or Nat’s?” he pinched the bridge of his nose at you and huffed.

“It’s yours now ok?” he said in a serious voice and you just groaned. Why God, why? “Also you can go check on her and apologise for being so rough on her in training,” his voice left no room for arguing so you mumbled stuff under your breath before leaving to go see the witch.

“God Y/n,” she whimpered as her fingers hit her g-spot repeatedly. She was a wet mess by now and she didn’t care. The image of you pounding into her with a strap on was doing wonders for her and she was so close to coming for a second time.

As you were about to knock on her door you heard what sounded like a groan. You froze at the door. Did you hurt her badly in training? Was she in pain? Steve was going to kill you. Oh god you had fucked up. “Fuck Y/n, right there please,” the witch moaned and you realised. Oh.

Wanda curled the two fingers inside her and rubbed tight, fast circles into her clit with her other hand bringing herself right to the edge. With a final thrust she came with a guttural scream and trembled on the bed as her orgasm washed over her. She laid on the bed panting after having two of the best orgasms of her life. Who knew you turned the witch on that much.

You remained frozen at the door as you had just heard Wanda moaning your name and had just orgasmed at the thought of you. Every single ounce of confidence in you went flying out of the widow as Wanda just came thinking about you. You knew you had to see the witch otherwise Steve would definitely ban you from missions so you did the only thing you could think off- make dirty jokes while talking to her.

You knocked three times on the door before saying, “Hey Wanda, I’m sorry for going so hard on you in training I just thought you would have liked it hard and rough.” You could hear an embarrassed noise from through the door and quietly chuckled. “Anyway I can’t wait for you to come tomorrow.” Wanda groaned loudly into her pillow and dreaded training with you tomorrow.

The next day you and Wanda met for training you had decided to wear a tight fitting black t-shirt that showed off how defined your body was as well as slightly curvy. You certainly didn’t expect Wanda to turn up in tight leggings that hugged her ass perfectly and a small sports bra that made her chest look bigger. You had to control yourself as she swayed her hips towards you. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes and you could tell she was going to be a brat.

“Hey Y/n,” her tone sultry and accent thick.

“Hey Wanda,” your tone equally seductive. “Did you have fun last night?” You saw how she blushed and thought this was going to be easy.

“I did actually,” she murmured, her face inches from yours. “I did what you said I would.”

“And what was that darling?” the nickname slipping from your lips.

“Thinking of you,” her voice raspy. You raised an eyebrow at her boldness but let her carry on. “I thought of what it would be like to be under you,” she stepped closer to you and moved to a fight pose. She made sure that in the position she was in her breasts would be pushed up and it would give you a clear view of them. “To have your hands all over me,” she threw a punch and you easily dodged it but grabbed her arm and flung her over you. She landed on her back with you onto and her eyes dilated. You could see how flustered she was and how her thighs tried to squeeze together. You moved apart her legs with your hands, spreading her out for you before crawling above her and putting your knew in between her legs. A soft moan left her lips at the contact and you stopped advancing on her. It felt so wrong to have her here on the floor of the training room.

“Do you actually want this?” you asked in case she didn’t for some reason.

“Yes,” she gasped out. You pressed your lips against hers and heard her moan into the kiss. Fuck she was addicting. The taste of her lips, the sound of her whimpers, the smell of her perfume. You couldn’t get enough of her. You pulled away and saw how her eyes fluttered open, her lips chasing yours. A small peck on her lips was placed before you pulled away for good to stare at her.

“Not here darling,” you panted out on her lips. Her nose brushed yours and you so desperately wanted her now. “My room or yours?”

“Mine,” she whispered and you moved off her and pulled her up. You pulled her close to murmur into her ear.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you nibbled on her ear lobe. “Go.” Swiftly she left the training room and you chuckled as she fumbled with the door.

Around five minutes later you knocked on her door after making sure no one would see you. As soon as the door opened a hand made its way to the collar of your shirt and she dragged you into her room. Wanda pressed you against the door and reattached your lips together in a hungry kiss. You groaned into her mouth as her body became flush with yours. In one motion, you switched the positions and trapped her body between you and the door.

“If you want to stop just say,” you panted out while resting your forehead against hers, “I won’t judge and will stop as soon as you want me to.” She smiled before lacing her hands through your hair and pulling you in for a bruising kiss. Your knee made its way back between her thighs and she took this as the chance to grind along it. Your hands moved from beside her head to massage her chest before pulling down the sports bra revealing her chest. She gasped as the cold air met her nipples while you just let out a low chuckle. Your fingers rolled and pinched her nipples as she sighed against your lips and grinded her core on your toned thigh.

“Please,” she whimpered as you moved your kisses to her neck. You sucked hard onto a spot on her neck where everyone could see as it and felt her buck her hips especially hard.

“Oh you like that darling?” you teased. “Do you want everyone to see your mine? To see this and think of me and you?” you bit down on another part of her neck and soothed it with your tongue before moving to her chest. Your name fell from her lips as you took a breast into your mouth and worshipped it. With a pop you let it go before moving onto the other.

“Y/n,” she whined, “Please I’m so close. I need you to,” she moaned out before you cut her off with your lips.

“Need me to what?”

“Touch me here,” she guided one of your hands to between her thighs and you instantly felt how wet she was.

“You’re so wet for me,” you growled out and she moaned at the tone of your voice. You rubbed her through the fabric of her leggings and felt her getting extremely close. “Do you want to come?” you felt her nod against your shoulder and you tsked her. “You’ve got to use your words if you want to be a good girl,” she moaned at the words. “Good girls get to come.”

“Please let me come,” she whimpered and you felt bad for what you were about to do but it would be worth it. “I’m so close,” as soon as she said that you picked her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around your toned abdomen. She whined as you placed her on the bed as she was so close to coming. Once she was on the bed you knelt by the end of it and reached for the waistband of her leggings. You looked at her in the eyes, asking the silent question, and waited for her to say yes. She nodded but you tsked again so she said, “Yes. Please!” You laughed at her neediness but continued to pull the remaining clothing off her skin. As you unveiled the soft, smooth skin of her legs you groaned quietly as she was breath-taking.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered while moving her legs over your shoulder. You peppered open mouthed kisses in between her thighs before leaving a few bites to leave as a reminder. “Is this what you wanted?” you murmured into her skin. “To be spread out and wanting for me?” your hot breath sent all sorts of pleasurable feelings throughout the witch and a low moan left her lips. “Desperate for my touch?” you finally gave in and took her clit into your mouth. Her hips jerked at pleasure so with one of your hands you held her hips down. The show of strength made Wanda feel even more aroused and a new gush of wetness pooled between her thighs. Your tongue licked between her folds while your free hand moved to circle her clit. You thrusted your tongue into her dripping core and felt her clench around you. Wanda was already extremely close from before so it only took a few thrusts of your tongue against her walls and a few rubs of her clit for her legs to wrap around your head. Her legs trembled as she came with a long string of moans, her back arching beautifully and chest heaving from the intensity of it. Once she had rode out the last of her aftershocks you switched your tongue with your fingers and easily slipped two into her.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned as her hips bucked as best they could under your grip. You started a fast pace of moving your digits within her while your mouth sucked and licked around your extremely sensitive clit. It took only a minute or so for the witch to cry out your name out as another orgasm washed over her. You waited once again for her to calm down and tested to see if she could handle another. You worked her up slowly this time and her hands unclenched the sheet in her hand and tangled in your hair. You made her come another time before deciding she had enough and it would be too much for another.

“Are you alright?” you whispered as you moved back above her body. She sighed out a yes before pressing her lips against yours. The brunette moaned as she tasted herself on your lips before pulling away.

“Do you want me to?” she asked breathlessly and you shook your head.

“Its ok,” you said after pressing your lips together once again, “You’re tired. Go and rest.” You moved to her bathroom to grab a towel so you could quickly wipe her down and clean her up. Once you were happy she was alright you went to grab her clothes and put them into a wash basket before passing her some comfortable clothes to wear. You heard her call your name so you turned around to look at her.

“Stay?” she had hope in her eyes and for some reason you felt like you couldn’t deny her. You crawled into the bed with her and felt her move close to cuddle you. This felt weird for you as you had never expected to do this with her but it didn’t feel wrong so you went with it. “Y/n?” you hummed in response, “Why do you hate me?

“I don’t hate you,” you admitted. It was true. You never hated Wanda you were just scared of what she thought of you. When she went into your mind all that time ago when she was with Ultron you were still a new member of the team. You hadn’t done much to remove the ‘red in your ledger’ as Natasha phrased it and you assumed she just thought you were evil. “I just thought you would see me as a monster. I pushed you away because you saw all of me and it just….scared me I guess.” She removed her head from your chest to look at you in the eyes.

“You’re not a monster Y/n. And I never thought that of you.” She pressed her lips onto yours and this time it felt different.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you,” you whispered against her lips, not meeting her eyes.

“I’m sorry too,” she cooed and you finally looked at her, “But to be honest I was just mad at you. I had a huge crush on you and you just wanted to push me away.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m yours now,” you said and you saw her raise her eyebrow, “Well that’s if you still want me.” She answered you by kissing you passionately on the lips and pulling you closer.

“Of course I do.”