#because when you do it like that’s it’s either like okay nothing important should ever happen in their lives again or else important things

[titsthedamnseason]

once again thinking of how perfect the cobalt empire series would be if it was multi pov per book including them all or at least overlapping timelines like addicted / calloway

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

[envy-of-the-apple]

Watchmen

Yandere! Sung Jin-woo x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, Implied kidnapping, stalking, kinda stockholm syndrome, mc has given up on trying to escape)

After a while, you'd given up on trying to get him to talk.

At least, you think it's a him. You're not sure if monsters have genders, much less shadow monsters. He's big, however. Two long tusks prodding from either side of his mouth. Has to crouch whenever he's moving through the room Jin-woo trapped you in. You were scared shitless when he was first summoned to 'protect you'.

Now, you much prefer this monster compared to your captor.

You put down the book. You don't know how many times you've reread this, but you could probably recite it by heart. Books were the only source of entertainment you had here. Wherever here was.

You've given up trying to find those types of questions a while ago.

When you stare back at the shadow monster, he's staring right back.

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

You don't like saying his name, so you try not to say it as often. Fortunately, the shadow monster understands what you're trying to say. Unfortunately, he decides to immediately send your message over to his higher up. The shadow monster turns away, giving a low call that you recognize.

"No, no you don't have to-"

"Is there something you need, My Queen?"

You close your eyes, resisting the urge to pinch your brows. He's already bowing, deep and low to the ground. You would've preferred Igris, or Iron, maybe even Tank. Out of Jin-woo's guardsmen, Beru was your least favorite. All the soldiers were loyal to Jin-woo, but Beru's complete submission to your captor unnerved you.

But he's the only few that could talk, so you had to make due.

"It's nothing. Sorry, if I disturbed you. You're free to go." You wave him away. Beru's head lifts up, his antennae twitches.

"I was told that you had something of importance to discuss? Is that not the case?" Beru's head flicks over to your guard who now is starting to look a bit nervous. "It appears this one lied. Shall I cut off its fingers as a punishment-"

"No! No it's okay." You quickly interrupt, knowing all too well about Beru's bloodlust. "I was just wondering when he was getting back. That's all."

Beru straightens up, eager to be talking about his master. "My King has gone to a dungeon, but he won't have any issues with the raid." He preens. "He should be back by sunset."

Damn, these days, Jin-woo took less and less time to get back. You still don't understand how he's so strong, but you know your captor typically only enters Rank A dungeons or higher. It's partially why you gave up on ever escaping. Even if you got away from his army of shadow monsters, he'd still manage to find you.

"Okay, that's all I wanted to ask."

Beru tilts his head. "My Queen, were you asking because you were worried about the King?"

Another reason why you disliked Beru. He was always so insistent on your relationship with the so-called-King. You hold your tongue, however. You remember the last time you openly portrayed any emotion towards Jin-woo that was pure disdain. You've retained your fear, however.

Instead you hum, letting him think whatever he wanted. The insect flitters in pure delight before he darts away. He's probably going back to write a 12-page report about you blinking to his dear master. Knowing Jin-woo, he'd probably read it. Like soldier; like master.

Glad that Beru's gone, you give your original shadow guardsmen a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry about that." You apologize, knowing Beru isn't just terrifying to you. The shadow monster visibly relaxes. He smiles back, both tusks showing. It's a little cute.

You reach over, patting the guy on the head. He's huge, at least four heads taller than you but with the way he's crouching beside you, it's feasible. He seems to enjoy it too.

You smile. At least there was one monster here that you enjoyed the company of.

You clear your throat and you look at the book you tossed away.

"Want me to read it to you?" You ask. The monster beams, and you decide that it's too cute to be a monster.

You only looked away for a moment. When you looked back, your reading buddy was gone, and Jin-woo had taken it's place.

He didn't look like he'd gone through a dungeon. He never did. You'd suspect him of lying if you didn't know better. Not a hair was out of place.

"Where did you send him off to?" You ask, referring to the orc-shadow.

Jin-woo thinks for a moment.

"Somewhere in Portugal." He decides on. "Forgot the city."

You hum in thought. "How was the raid?"

You don't know why you always ask this. You don't know why he always answers.

"Good." He breathes, leaning into you. He smells the same as he did when he left. Fresh. You remembered the first few times he'd left you behind to go on a raid. He'd always come back smelling like ash and blood, and that only scared you even more. Nowadays, it appears he's cut back on his bloodlust. Or he took a shower before he came back.

You let him rest his head on your lap. It's the same routine you and him always had when he came back. You stroke his hair, combing through his soft locks. You look at his clothes, his shoes. Perfectly average. He had this obsession with wanting to look human.

Even when he clearly wasn't.

"Jin?" You call because he likes it when you say his name. He hums, eyes closed.

"Why doesn't every monster have a name?"

Your question doesn't upset him. That's good. Upsetting questions make his eyes flash, teeth bare. So does begs of being let go, pleads of going home.

"Only knights rank A and above gets names. Makes things easier." He answers. "It'd be a hassle to name all 10,000 of them."

The number doesn't even feel real, but you know he isn't lying. He never is.

One of his eyes open, he stares up at you.

"Why do you want to know?"

You swallow, but you shrug anyway. "I was just curious. So he doesn't have a name? The shadow monster you just switched with?"

"No." Jin-woo continues to watch you. "Would you like to give him one?"

You jolt at his sudden question.

"What?" He smiles in a way that nearly makes you forget that he's stolen you away from your life for months.

"A name," he says, "would you like to give him a name?"

You don't know what to say. To prompt your answer, Jin-woo snaps his fingers, and the familiar shadow-monster appears before you. Seeing Jin-woo, the monster immediately bows to his master.

"Is that okay?" You ask, quietly.

"It will be." Jin-woo concedes. "You should be more comfortable with the one guarding you, after all."

That's why he was doing this. Another way of placating you. Making you feel like you had control in this drama. Like you weren't just as trapped as his thousands of puppets he pulled on his strings.

"Gan," you say anyway, "I like 'Gan'."

You're not sure what happens. You aren't a hunter. You aren't a monster. But the shadow monster seems to be listening to something.

And then, Gan smiles. Wide and toothy.

Jin-woo dismisses him with a wave, rising up from your lap to stretch.

"Have you eaten?" He asks, probably already knowing the answer from Beru.

"I haven't." You shake your head.

He pats your shoulder.

"Go wash up then." He's about to leave again, when you muster up your courage and call out his name for the second time.

"The book." You start. "I was just wondering if I could have...more?" You're careful not to insinuate how bored you were, how miserable.

He watches you. Silent. You can't tell how he took it.

"That's the second request tonight." He notes, tilting his head. "That's new."

Right, he's never been one to give something away for free. You give, he takes. Keeping you in this dollhouse isn't enough for him.

Still, you steel yourself, keeping yourself from shaking. His aura envelopes you when you step forward, it makes your knees tremble. You lean up, and quickly give a peck on the corner of his mouth.

"Please?" You ask, an inch away from his skin.

His lips quirk.

The next day when you wake up, he's gone, and Gan is cheerily holding a pile of books.

[ravengards-rogue]

i lose control (when you're not next to me.)

javier escuella x reader

✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+

✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)

✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour

✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is. 

He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you. 

In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often. 

It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting. 

Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love. 

It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him. 

He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last. 

Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him. 

You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long. 

Almost being what matters most. 

Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no. 

A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special. 

And that makes it worse. 

For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in. 

Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his. 

That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word. 

It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him. 

But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.

Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.  

He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be. 

He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless. 

Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe. 

It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully. 

He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago. 

He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck. 

He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body. 

The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you. 

You’re making a mess.

You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always. 

Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them. 

Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?” 

Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression. 

“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,” 

“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.” 

You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you. 

“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?” 

“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all. 

“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”

“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,” 

“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?” 

It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea. 

But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking. 

Pretending to think. 

“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?” 

“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.” 

He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?” 

You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,” 

“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,” 

“Javier.” 

“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.” 

“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite. 

“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?” 

You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,” 

He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more. 

“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”

“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically. 

“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?” 

You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer. 

“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy. 

You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?” 

You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal. 

You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral. 

Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard. 

You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.

“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,” 

“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all. 

He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again. 

“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,” 

Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,” 

You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you. 

“Gonna cum soon, huh?” 

You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak. 

“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,” 

“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.” 

You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh. 

You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes. 

“Are you with me still, do you think?” 

You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple. 

“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.” 

You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.” 

“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.” 

“You’re exhausted, mi vida.” 

“Please,” 

He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.” 

You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.” 

You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.” 

“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,” 

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,” 

“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.” 

It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe. 

You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  

“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard. 

“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,” 

“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?” 

“Should open you up a little.” 

“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch. 

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”

You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite. 

He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased. 

Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles. 

“One more, okay? Just the one.” 

“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,” 

“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,” 

You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.

Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard. 

He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined. 

Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs. 

“Like the view?” 

You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.” 

“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,” 

So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself. 

You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,” 

He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much. 

It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out. 

You feel good. God, you feel good. 

He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway? 

Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw. 

“Feel good?” 

“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,” 

“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?” 

“Please,” 

“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.” 

You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure. 

You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard. 

“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.” 

“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.” 

It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go. 

He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted. 

“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?” 

You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,” 

He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around. 

Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[th3lovely1]

Emily Engstler x Actress! Reader

♡♡♡♡♡

- Written in headcannon form

- Possessive Emily??

- Should I make a part 2?

♡♡♡♡♡

● Being an actress has its ups and downs especially while being with Emily. You're acting in all of these movies and whatnot when Emily is dealing with basketball, so you guys are going to be busy a bit. It was something that you guys had to get used to but it worked out after a few conversations(cause with Emily yk it'd have to take a bit).

● Speaking of being busy, whenever either of you has to travel you guys ALWAYS make sure to call before bedtime. It doesn't even matter if you were too busy to talk throughout the day but the both of you always make sure to call each other at night. Sometimes you guys won't talk a lot and other times you'll talk for hours. But it just depends on how the day was. The good thing though is that Emily is always there to listen. In fact, she even encourages it most times.

"No, you're all good, baby. Keep on talking. I wanna hear how your day was"

AND HER TIRED VOICE OMG!!

● She will never EVER get tired of bragging about you. Whenever anyone asks who she's with she automatically pulls out her phone to show them sooooo many photos and all the shows/movies you were in. And most times they'll stand there like 🧍‍♀️ while she's going on a big rant about you.

"Oh yeah, this is my girlfriend. She's been in this show, which is totally awesome, you'll have to watch it sometime. But she's also been in some other stuff too. Isn't she amazing?"

● But since you're an actress that means that you're popular with A LOT of people and we all know what that means. Luckily, you have Emily at your side who will not hesitate to throw hands for you. So if you're out in public and you both start noticing someone following you or if someone's just trying to be weird in general, she'll walk right up to them and confront them about what they're doing. And she's like 6ft so of course it's gonna be intimidating for the other person. After a few interactions with Emily your fans finally started to calm down. There have been times where you've had to stop her from fighting someone for your sake.

"Em, you can't do that! Everyone's looking!"

"So what?! They can't take a hint for shit!"

"Oh my god..."

● When you're out together she loves to always be touching you in some way. Like holding your hand, resting her hand on your back, or your arms touching while walking together. It's not even just because she's reminding your fans that you're together but also because it lets her know you're by her and safe.

● There have been times when people got weird with you and it made her worry about you WAYYYYY more. She definitely turned into a little helicopter parent for a bit. At first it was sweet but it was something that you guys had to talk about and manage.

● When you have premiers for your movies, she makes sure to come to every. single. one. And she makes sure that she's matching the theme too. She gets a little nervous sometimes but you're always there to help sooth her.

"Are you sure this looks okay? You look all pretty and perfect, and I'm just..."

"You look just fine, Em. Fantastic even. You have nothing to worry about"

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now let's go"

● All of the paparazzi was something that she had to get used to. She's dealt with people coming up to her for photos and stuff but with you, it was completely different. She makes sure to bring sunglasses with her at all times or things that she knows will hide you guys easily. She's even researched different ways to deal with paparazzi in hopes of helping both of you. If yk that one anti-paparazzi scarf? She got one for you.

● She's really understanding about how your guy's schedules work and so are you. So being busy and sometimes missing some things isn't too big of a deal unless it is really big or important. It is a rule to communicate about it after though.

● COMMUNICATION IS MF KEY IN THIS RELATIONSHIP!!! I can not stress that enough. She knows that you have all these fans and people looking at you so there are times when you have to reassure her. And being busy so much is another thing that had to be managed. There was a lot of talking when you guys first got together. But all of that just makes your relationship stronger.

[icaruspendragon]

remember in 1x12 (faith) when dean has the conversation with the faith healer and he says, "why? why me? out of all the sick people, why save me?" and the healer answers, "well, like i said before, the lord guides me. i looked into your heart and you just... stood out from all the rest." and dean asks, "what did you see in my heart?" and the faith healer answers, "a young man with an important purpose- a job to do. and it isn't finished."

and then remember when in 2x13 (houses of the holy) when sam asks dean, "why can't you even consider the possibility?" and dean says "what, that this is an angel?" and sam says "yes. maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop. maybe this is god's will." and then dean says "okay. all right. you know what? i get it. you've got faith. that's -- hey, that's good for you. i'm sure it makes things easier. i'll tell you who else had faith like that -- mom. she used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. in fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me." and sam says, "you never told me that." and dean responds, "what's to tell? she was wrong. there was nothing protecting her. there's no higher power. there's no god. there's just chaos and violence. and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. so you want me to believe in this stuff? i'm gonna need to see some hard proof. you got any?"

and then remember in 4x01 (lazarus rising) when dean meets castiel and asks "who are you?" and castiel says, "i'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." and then again dean asks, "who are you?" and castiel responds, "castiel." and dean says, "yeah i figured that much, i mean what are you?" and cas says, "i'm an angel of the lord." and dean says, "get the hell out of here. there's no such thing." and cas shows him the fearsome wrath of heaven and later dean says, "look pal i'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" and cas says, "i told you." and dean says, "right. and why would an angel, rescue me from hell?" and cas tells him, "good things do happen, dean." and dean says, "not in my experience." and cas asks him, "what's the matter?" and then tells him, "you don't think you deserve to be saved." and dean asks, "why'd you do it?" and cas tells him "because god commanded it. because we have work for you."

and then remember when in 4x16 (on the head of a pin) when cas is talking to dean in the hospital and dean asks, "is it true? did i start all of this?" and cas has to say, "yes. when we discovered lilith's plan for you... we laid siege to hell, and we fought our way to get to you before you --" and dean cuts in to say "jump-started the apocalypse." and cas' gaze turns skyward as he says, "but we were too late." and dean asks, "why didn't you just leave me there, then?" and cas, with eyes still upward says, "it's not... blame that falls on you, dean. it's fate." and cas turns his gaze downward once more as he says, "and the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it." and then he turns to dean, looking at him for the first time, and says, "you have to stop it." and dean asks, "lucifer? the apocalypse? what does that mean?" and cas looks away from him and says nothing so dean says, "hey. don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. what does that mean?" and cas is staring resolutely forward as he says, "i don't know." and dean exclaims "bull!" and cas once more says, "i don't." before looking at dean again and saying, "dean, they don't tell me much. i know... how our fate rests with you." and then dean, with tears in his eyes says, "well, then you guys are screwed." and then he says, "i can't do it, cas. it's too big." and then he says, "alastair was right. i'm not all here. i'm not -- i'm not strong enough." and then cas looks back and dean and dean looks away from cas for the first time since the conversation started and says, "well, i guess i'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be." and cas looks away and dean says "find someone else. it's not me." and the tears dean has been trying so hard to hold back finally fall.

anyway. i just thought all of that was kinda interesting.

[fantasywater]

Catradora and Stolitz: Same Toxic Ship just Different Genders

This series has always felt like the Catra Show, and so much so that even Hordak never felt like the main villain. And nothing drove that point home more than season five proving once and for all that this series' moral line(or lack thereof) is really about a Villain Protagonist when the character that increasingly became a monster for four seasons still got everything she wanted in the end.   

Catra is the poster child for the moral bankruptcy of this series. 

I can't buy her ''redemption,'' or her relationship with Adora, because she went too far. 

Therefore nor can I buy the mental gymnastics that arise when she is the topic of discussion in the fandom. 

For four seasons I watched this character willingly and gleefully jump rope with the moral event horizon. Then she finally broke it to the pieces when she genocides the planet, and everyone on it, because of her sick, evil, obsession with being better than Adora.

Loved all this time my behind.

Catra was a vile person from her introduction, and just got increasingly more poisonous as the show went on. 

Season Five wants us to treat Catra like she was just a bad friend.

She just said a few mean words here and there, and therefore all she has to do is sincerely apologize then friendship can begin again.  

Here's the thing Catra wasn't just a bad friend she was an abuser and a fascist. 

She had multiple opportunities to leave the horde, and had no reason to stay in the first place, gleefully attacks the resistance, is the reason Angela died, tried straight up multiple times to end Adora’s and her friends lives, and was just an abomination to even the ones on her side etc..   

On the flip side we have Adora who doesn’t give a damn about Catra for four seasons. She’s too busy enjoying life with her real friends.

Try and recall, was there ever a moment where Adora was...concerned for Catra’s safety? Pining for her in any way romantically? Ever? Even once during the first four seasons? Because I don’t.

Honestly, Catra wasn’t important to Adora until Catra showed up on screen. And then they both wanted to kill each other. Any moments of Adora thinking about Catra it was in the context of Catra being her enemy.

But I'm supposed to believe in their romance based on what? Catra's toxicity? Adora's nonexistent romantic feelings for pretty much the entire series?   

It seems in season 5 all Catra had to do was one act of atonement and out of nowhere, like Adora has been possessed by the ghost of Queer Rep, she suddenly can’t get Catra out of her head.

Also, note that Catra didn't save Glimmer because she realized her past actions were evil; no it was all for Adora's sake i.e. the person she is toxically obsessed with. 

Furthermore, the redemption in question is handled with the most condescending of kid gloves.

It seems like she was replaced by a clone for season five. She’s just accepted.

It's like seasons 1-4 didn't happen. The forgiveness was excessive and forced so we could be okay with this abuser/war criminal being chummy and romantic with her victims.

For example, Glimmer cries over her, kisses her cheek, etc... Yet Catra is responsible for her mother's death, the world ending, trying to kill her, war crimes against Bright Moon, etc. 

Then Entrapta also forgives Catra like it’s nothing even though she sent her to die, and apparently, she was in this hell space for a year.

But everything is supposed to be wonderful because an abuser ends the series romantically involved with her victim?   

When Adora said you made your choice and now live with it that should have been the end of any reconciliation either platonic or romantic. 

Even her flashbacks are of her being abusive.

You see her in one of them( in her so-called redemption season at that) scratching Adora's face to the point it left blood, and jumping on her stomach just because Adora dared to be friends with other people.

This was pretty much every childhood flashback they showed.

She would emotionally and physically abuse Adora, and then Adora would take her back.

This would continue even as young adults. It was a pattern(red flag) that Adora unfortunately didn't escape. 

But.....I always loved you,says Catra. 

For Adora's own mental health/closure, she could forgive, but only if she also makes it clear that she doesn't want her abuser/ex-friend back in her life.   

I could have tolerated that ending instead of Adora becoming a couple with her abuser. 

Basically, this Villain Sue ends the show getting everything she wants even after manipulation of several characters, genocide, war crimes against her own people, physical and mental abuse(especially toward Adora), repeated attempts at murder, and just being a complete psychopath to anyone within spitting distance of her toxicity. 

She gets to be pretty much abusive scum for four seasons, on top of actually doing the same thing Prime wanted to do, yet whiplash forgiveness and Lesbians 4 Evah is her ending.   

"So we're all just okay with this?", says Mermista incredulously of the war criminal Hordak. Good question, but then I remember you all seem to be okay with war criminal Catra sooo.....

Her mirror Hordak, according to the showrunner, is sentenced to Beast Island for his war crimes. However, my question then becomes where is Catra's sentence? Oh, that's right if you're Catra you get to be a war criminal in peace, and especially if you're dating the protagonist.   

It's also convenient that Mermista's was chipped, and therefore didn't get to say anything to the girl who helped bring down her kingdom with a smile on her face.

Funny how that worked out. 

It's even more convenient that her victims gave their lighting fast forgiveness.  

Can't have icky things like abuse and war crimes get in the way of that ending smooch you know.

I suppose we also just need to look at Angella as collateral damage while we smile as her daughter hugs and kisses her killer I guess.   

I also find it odd(since we're loving abusers) that Shadow Weaver point blank doesn't get forgiveness from Adora, and she even ends the series dead.

However, she defected to the hero's side in season two(regardless of any impure motivation), and stayed there and helped the protagonists until her season five death.

But Catra, who not only stayed with the conquering organization the Horde for almost the entire series while also eventually becoming their leader, was not only forgiven but also rewarded with a romance with her victim. Curious. 

The only way I can stomach her season five 'redemption', and lighting quick forgiveness, is if I forget the monster of four seasons didn't exist.

Problem is I can't do that. 

Why should I get any catharsis that the protagonists prevailed over Horde Prime when Catra is pretty much him with a sob story attached.

So it seems this show's message is no matter how much emotional and physical pain a person does to you it's okay to not only let them back in your life(damn your mental health I guess), but also enter a romantic relationship with them too.

It’s also hilarious that some of her fans say she’s Zuko.

No.

She’s what would happen if Azula and Kylo Ren were made into one character.

Titles the show should I have had:

She-Ra: The Story of a Villain Sue Antagonist That Gets a Happily Ever After With Her Victim

Another alternate: She-Ra: The Story of Lesbian Reylo or more current Lesbian Stolitz.

[webslingingslasher]

hi babeeee!!! idk if this is how requests work bc i never request fics but i was wondering if u could do something super duper angsty, like really angsty, and then hurt comfort with a fluffy end? it can be anything you want, but like that sort of timeline would be so so so good, if u could and if requests r open,, xoxoxox

it may have taken me 12 years but i did it bestie.

Peter Parker wasn’t the type of boyfriend to have rules. 

You were your own person, and should live as one. However, there were some things he was a bit more passionate about. 

Like: texting him when you get home (and he wasn’t around), calling him if you feel unsafe or nervous, keep him informed of your whereabouts so he could try and track you down if he needed to, and always, always, call him back. 

Peter had one rule, let him know you're safe. Always. Even when you’re mad at eachother, even at your most ugly, you’d let him know you’re okay. It was Peter’s one true rule, the other things he liked and he preferred you’d do, but this was his number one thing. 

And you’re not following it. 

The third time you ignored his call he felt frustration brew so deeply he almost slammed his phone to the ground, it would’ve done nothing to fix anything, and would’ve made a bigger problem, but the satisfaction of watching something break apart into a million pieces would’ve made him feel better. Even if just for a moment. 

It’s almost like you knew it’s pissing him off, you’ve never dug this deeply into a wound. You knew it would get under his skin in the right places, it was something that either of you didn’t play with. It was too serious for Peter, and knowing you were most likely safe and just doing this to try and get even with him made him furious. Because he can’t prove it. And because he can’t all he could think about how not okay you might be. 

Peter hates leaving angry voicemails but he can’t stop himself this time. 

‘This is the fourth fucking call you’ve ignored, I think you proved your point. I know you’re mad at me but this is just childish, you made this night go from a small hiccup to a massive fight because you won’t answer your phone. Just call me back, goddamn it.’ 

Peter’s never once gotten loud with you, he’s never once felt enough rage towards you he could ever buck up enough energy to yell at you. But all he wanted to do was scream about how inconsiderate you were. He understands he may have started it, he even tried to apologize but you must’ve had this in your heart for a minute because you couldn’t wait to bulldoze him. 

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I got caught up in the low-’ 

‘Whatever, I don’t care. I’m going home.’ 

‘Hey, no, no, no! We can still hang out! I haven’t ate-’ 

‘I did. I waited over an hour, Peter. I’m going home.’ 

‘I’m sorry, I really am, baby. I know tonight was important to you.’ 

And that’s when the night switched. 

‘No, Peter, this wasn’t important to me. This was important for us, this was about you trying to prove you still care about us.’ 

‘Woah, hold on, don’t you dare stand there and tell me I don’t care about you or us, that’s unfair and you know it.’ 

‘You know what, Peter? I didn’t sign up to date two guys. I was willing to accept the other because it was a package deal, but I’m tired of being picked last. You know I’ll always be waiting around and it’s so fucking tiresome just waiting around.’ 

‘Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were signing up for, you don’t get to act like this is new news.’ 

‘I’m always picked last! I understand who you are, Peter, who you share a life with, trust me, if anyone here knows best about understanding, it’s fucking me, but that doesn’t mean I’m always the last priority. I know sometimes I have to be on the backburner, and guess what, Peter? I fucking understand. But, tonight? What stopped you? Because it’s not like there’s a domestic attack on the city, so tell me, what was so fucking important tonight I was shot to the bottom of the list for it?’ 

‘Okay, I get it. I know you’re mad, but I think we both need to take a breath and talk about this at home.’ 

‘No! I want you to look at me and tell me what was so important NYPD’s finest couldn’t handle it for an evening.’ 

‘Baby, I really don’t-’ 

‘Fucking tell me! I want you to admit right now it was nothing important. Look me in the eye and admit you didn’t care about my feelings.’ 

‘It was a robbery. I have a responsibility to keep the city safe, a city you very much live in, by the way.’ 

‘Ah, the classic, ‘if you really think about it, I’m doing this for you’ line. Real original.’ 

‘Can we please just go home? If you’re going to be pissed at me anyways I’d rather it be in the comfort of our home.’

‘You can go wherever you want, but I’m not going anywhere with you.’ 

‘I’m gonna get a cab, hold on.’ 

‘No, I’m not going anywhere with you and I mean it.’ 

‘You can hate me at home, let’s go.’ 

‘No! I’m leaving, you can sit around waiting on me for once.’ 

‘Why are you doing this now? You’ve never been this persistent before, I moved in with you and you still don’t think it’s enough. What else do you want from me? I’m giving you all I can, fuck.’ 

‘You know what? I hope someone fucking kidnaps me, maybe then I’d be your first choice.’ 

‘Don’t, don’t you even dare go there. You know that’s a low blow.’

‘I do. I hope I’m fucking tortured with you on the line, too.’ 

Peter tried calling out for you, screamed your name even, but you walked across the street and were swallowed into the crowd. He tugged at his hair a few times before looking around, he wasn’t sure what to do. Get a cab, bus, train? Does he walk in the direction you went? It’s a start. 

Pulling out his phone he tried calling, you sent him to voicemail on the second ring. You’re pissed, that’s fine, he just needs you mad and safe. Peter dodged bodies on his left and right, checking each alleyway for you, assuming you’d stop to collect yourself and call him when you had a breather. 

No sight of you. He doesn’t know where you went from here, it splits two ways. He tries using his boyfriend intuition and attempts to channel you, he’s left hopeless. Like a hail mary he remembers you share locations, Peter’s hands shake when he reaches for the app, your name loading until a small circle appears in his. 

You’re close. He follows the road forward, he knows you took this way and his heart squeezes. You deliberately took the sketchy route, the one you told Peter you wouldn’t dare walk without him. It looks like he’s getting closer, but it’s impossible to tell when he has to wait for it to constantly reload. 

Peter swears he can see your jacket ahead, he calls your phone, picking up the pace and trying his best to catch up. You blocked his call again, but he saw you do it.

He knows you heard your name get called, because you started to walk faster, it’s useless, Peter’s quicker. The only option you had was to hide in the crowd, squeezing yourself in the middle and out through the front. Sighing heavy at your escape, and a bit unamused by the childish behavior. Peter looked down at his phone refreshing your name ‘find friends.’ 

His face crumbled into a thousand pieces when the notification appeared, ‘- stopped sharing their location with you.’ His response was to call you, this time you let it ring out, and he left a nasty voicemail. It was like he snapped, he pulled at his curls and exhaled a loud ‘fuck!’ before gripping his phone so tight he thought it’d snap, and that's why he put it away. 

If you wanted to play dirty so could he, you’re hard to find from the street but when he’s swinging from building to building you’d be out of luck. He was tired and hungry, he wanted this to be over. Fight about it like grown adults, at home, while he’s making a grilled cheese or something. 

Peter ran down a back alleyway, ripping his clothes from his body and pulling his mask from his pocket. The suit came in handy tonight after all. Taking a sharp inhale, he took a leap, screaming out when he took flight. 

‘Not you, not you, not you, not…. You? No, not you.’ 

‘Where the fuck did you go?’ 

You were nowhere to be found, still no answer on his calls or texts. He knows it’s irrational, but he’s terrified you’ve jinxed yourself and really are in trouble. He’s taken the route on a spin three times and he still hasn’t seen you, there’s three options, you either went into a gay nightclub, were kidnapped, or somehow snuck your way across the road and into… central park. 

Of course you did, Peter should’ve known that. He told you one time it was a weak vantage point, he couldn’t see through the treelines all that well, and didn’t have much to swing from. At least he has a general idea of where you are, he just has to do it on foot. 

Maybe you were right, maybe he just sucked at prioritizing you now. He doesn’t know when he became this way. He just feels so responsible, he got a great gift and it’s only right he shares it. He just hasn’t figured out how to share Peter with you and Spider-Man with the world yet. Both people need him at the same time. 

At last, sitting on the edge of the fountain, is the love of his life. Just looking terribly sad, he hates to know he caused it. He may have started the fight, but you said some terrible things, things that were only said to jab at the most vulnerable spots. 

Taking a seat next to you he sighs, his entire body deflating in one breath. You mimic the sigh. 

“Rough night?” 

You hum, “my boyfriend and I got in a fight. Maybe we still are, I don’t know. What about you?” 

Peter stretches his legs, red feet scrape the brick. “My girlfriend went nuclear, kinda deserved. But, she also really hurt my feelings.” 

“Did you hurt her feelings too?” 

“Does that make it deserved?” 

Silence. It didn’t. 

Peter watches you twiddle your thumbs, chewing on your bottom lip and sniffing. 

“I’m sure she’s really sorry, and she knows whatever she said hit a soft spot. It seems like your job comes with some downsides, and maybe she kept it all bottled up until she couldn’t anymore, because how do you tell a superhero you want their attention more than a city needs protection?” 

He knows what you mean, he knows how selfish it could sound, but it’s not. You’re allowed to want him around every second, because he does too. 

“You don’t.” 

Peter can feel your eyes, “you don’t tell the superhero, you tell your boyfriend.” 

Your throat clears, “what if he’s both? What if he’s already spread too thin and his whining girlfriend is his last straw?” 

“No. He’s not spread too thin. He was unaware of how you felt, he didn’t know how much it bothered you. He didn’t know how far he pushed you away.” 

“So what changes now he knows?” 

Peter breaks character, this is about real solutions. 

“We figure it out. We’ll go home and look at our schedules and work around it, and have a set day where it’s only us. Twice a month we’ll have a standing date, attendance mandatory. The police scanner gets turned off unless it’s a slow night, and from now on, unless it’s a domestic attack, nothing comes before you.” 

[delcakoo]

enha’s favorite petnames ´✩ˎ˗

requested <3

PAIRING ! enhypen x f!reader

WC ! 2.1k

GENRE ! tooth rotting fluff

WARNINGS ! lots of petnames ofc ^^

a/n: finally ot7 post woo! a bit shorter than my usual but hope u all enjoy <3

// LEE HEESEUNG !

if you’re the type to get flustered easily.. oh boy

you miiiight be in trouble

but even if you aren’t? hee WILL change that

this man will search a whole dictionary just to find a name that’ll get you shy for him

but on the average day he’s pretty chill yet flirty with pet names

its a bit unexpected.. the longer you’ve been dating the worse it gets

everything begins with baby

it just starts replacing your name like

“there’s my baby, how was your day, hm?”

before you can even get used to that he’s already gotten more confident

his other go to names for you are angel and occasionally pretty

mushy yet effective c:

for example if you’ve been having a rough day or just got back from work or school? healing gamer boyf hee to the rescue!

“missed you, angel. wanna come sit on my lap while i game?” with a kiss against your temple :c

it’s such a simple name that he’d only ever call you, n’ he always says it so absentmindedly as if the name was your own

the latter is commonly used when you’re mad at him

“m’ sorry pretty. can your boyfriend try and make it up with some cuddles? and i’ll let you pick a movie?”

or perhaps when he’s being evil and wants a reaction out of you

“hey pretty girl, can you pass the remote?” pArdon

where did that come from sir..

when your reply comes out stuttered he snickers

this is not to say he isn’t just as weak for you!!

make sure to get him back since IT ISN’T THAT HARD

hit him with ‘handsome’ and bros a goner

“morning handsome, how’d you sleep?”

“i just woke up, stop..” suddenly your smug, confident boyfriend is hiding the grin on his face in the safety of your shoulder

BUT proceed with caution because hee will never just let you win, nuh uh!

if you step up your game so will he, be prepared for him to hunt down any name in the book that can get you going <3

// PARK JAY !

cmon this man is the epitome of romance!

he doesn’t even nOtice the effect it has on you, as his s/o jay thinks it’s common sense that you should have all the special names ^^

“darling, want me to get you a drink? i washed your favorite mug.”

“sweetheart, should i cut up some fruit for you and the boys?” yeAh he’d literally be in the kitchen doing shit instead of joining in movie night (just like in sosofun T-T)

THE BOYS DON’T EVEN TEASE because it’s just so cute and pure

even if they did it isn’t like he’d care

brushes them off because nothing can stop him from showering you in love

after a while you soooorta get used to it

but like can you ever really get used to jay’s way of waking you up in the morning

“my love,” he mumbles, peppering kisses along the back of your head while holding you tighter against his sturdy chest, “time to get up, okay?”

you just ask how he expects you to get up when he’s holding and talking to you like that :c

either way pet names are quite important for jay

it’s a method to show how serious he is about your relationship, he doesn’t go around calling just anyone beautiful,,

so if you use them on him as well? his heart will MELT

literally anything you do makes him happy, even just baby would get him smiling

even if it’s over text,, “sleep well! goodnight, love” HE IS FAST ASLEEP WITH A GIDDY SMILE ON HIS FACE

all in all jay is a giver!

doesn’t expect anything in return for his labor, so having you call him such praising names like he does for you..?

just?! starts malfunctioning

his brain immediately goes to things like “how’d i get so lucky” “i don’t deserve her”

also why words of affirmation is one of his top love languages!! give him the affection he deserves <3

and and one time you tried to see his reaction by calling him husband on the phone with a friend

..bro didn’t even bat an eye

the real definition of husband material

// SIM JAKE !

now this one.. unironically uses all the playboy pet names

you see

he started calling you babygirl as a joke A JOKE OKAY

just teasingly or fake flirting as if you weren’t already together y’know

however.. the annoying name

kinda stuck

and now he brings it up every so often,,

bro’s lucky because it’d probs give you the ick from anyone else..

when you’d show off a new outfit or arrive at your date location?

“yoi! looking pretty, babygirl!” :)

his other favourite is princess! no reason just that you’re his princess

you rarely hear your own name any more it’s always just

“when’d you buy that, princess?”

“hey princess, is the food warm enough?”

not that you mind!

as for him.. jake literally loves anything and everything when it’s from your mouth

call him snookums for all he cares as long as it isn’t his boring old name

if you even try to call him jaEhyun or jake you’re getting the injured puppy eyes >:[

baby, love, handsome, literally anything makes him smile and mentally kick his feet like AUGHHH hes so in love with you it hurts!!

however this may seem oddly specific

‘cause it is but

calling him dumb things like my hero WILL GET HIM GRINNING SO FAST

jake loves! feeling helpful! and important! mainly for you!!

EVEN IF ITS JUST. he tied your shoe just go ‘my knight in shining armour! i would’ve tripped without you’ and mans will be doing a lil’ dance in his head <3

yes you could’ve tied your own shoe but heeee did that he’s such a good helpful caring wonderful boyfriend right?? right

let him have his moments,,

// PARK SUNGHOON !

he is. sort of sorry

listen.. hoon can’t help his shyness

even after dating for a while this man still blushes at the thought of calling you something besides your name T-T

he settles for.. babe

around others it’ll be your name

but in private he’ll just quietly go “babe, now that they’re gone can we continue that show?” awWw

sure when he’s being a teasing nuisance he’ll pinch your cheeks and start calling you cutie or my baby just to see your annoyed frown

but when you harmlessly ask why he doesn’t call you that at any other time he gets all fidgety and shrugs his shoulders

“i dunno! it’s.. embarrassing.”

so pretty much

the only real way to get pet names out of hoon is if you can muster up the courage to start using them first

just jump scare him like

“pretty boy, wanna go get ice cream?” he’ll be looking around the room pointing to himself going mE??!

then he’ll eventually start using them in return, maybe just baby or angel here or there

more specifically if he’s really missing you or needs something

“yah, angel~” he’d yell from your apartment’s entrance, “you look good and all.. but we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!!”

“wanna come visit the recording room at break? baby i’ll cry from exhaustion if you don’t.”

synopsis is. you know he reaaally needs you when those names come out

but but! like mentioned before he feels most comfy with casual nicknames

and if you’re okay with it, your own name which sometimes feels even more special to hoon ^^

he just loves saying your name as much as he loves everything else about you

however if pet names mean a lot to you no need to worry, he’ll get the hang of em’ and soon this dork will have you a blushing mess 24/7 mwahaha!

// KIM SUNOO !

baby is.. more romantic than you think!

as he warms up,, his favourite is simply calling you his love :c

in fact, he doesn’t mind saying it in front of the members even if they’re sure to tease him later on

“my love!” he exclaims as soon as you answer the phone, “i’m on the way to practise with everyone, wanna visit at lunch? jungwon keeps mentioning some mario movie he wants to watch with you..” *eyeroll*

he’s very.. go with the flow

if you call him a specific name then he may use the same one on you too ^^

for example, it was a bit unexpected to hear him start calling you hun

but at the same time you’ve called him that a couple times before too

sunoo always tries to catch on quickly when it comes to what you’re comfy with!

you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's waist just as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, “sun, how was recording?”

“ahh.. the others were yelling and gave me a headache. but it’s okay now that i’m with you, hun,” despite his exhaustion, he squeezes you with equal enthusiasm <3

as for himself, sunoo can’t help but smile when you call him the softer stuff

AND sun of course, it’s cute but simple — his favourite!

despite being the oldest of the maknae line, he’s used to being coddled a lot and sometimes.. it gets annoying

especially when the younger members join in

however when it comes to you?? he couldn’t care LESS

“my baby looks so tired, wanna sleep in my lap?” yep he’s absolutely sold

sometimes you have to repeat yourself ‘cause he was too busy getting flustered over your names for him <\3

// YANG JUNGWON !

being known for copying things like ‘yoi’

wonnie sometimes gets his pet names by watching/reading things

he could be on the plane during tour, watching a movie when the main lead says ‘beautiful’ and his first thought is just

“ah, that’s a good name for y/n”

may or may not have a note tab in his phone dedicated to names for you..

he would even research ones in other languages because he LOVES seeing your shy reaction when he explains what it means

“yah, why’d you text me something in a different language?”

when his cat eyes turn to crescents and his dimple poked through, you know he’s proud of whatever it is

“it means ‘darling’ in chinese, jagiya.”

when your expression changes and you turn to hide your smile, he leans over to give you a victory kiss through many giggles <3

on a day to day basis though

he enjoys saying your name in a cute way, besides the classic jagi/jagiya

“y/n~ come cuddle!” c’mon how’re you gonna say no!?

“look jagi,” he says it absentmindedly, even with the members nearby, “you’re my lockscreen now!”

will think it’s cute if you use the same names back, but won doesn’t mind anything ^^

he just really enjoys matching with you whether it be petnames, outfits, jewelry, anything really

so if there’s a specific name you like calling him

he’ll definitely steal it..

“bub, wanna order something for dinner?”

cat boyfriend just tilts his head, “okay, but why am i bub now?”

“i dunno, it’s just a cute name.”

then a few days later he—

“bub! i missed you!!” as soon as you walk through the door <3

cutie T-T

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

creative boy likes being unique with it :0

also ‘cause using super mushy names simply isn’t his style bUt

perhaps when he gets older that’ll change,,

most of the time babe/baby is an exception though

its quick, sweet, and right to the chase which is perfect for your impatient boy especially when he needs attention

“babe, babe, babe-“

you push him away slightly, holding the phone closer to your ear, “can’t you see i’m on the phone, ki?”

before you know it his arms are wrapped around you as his head dips into the crook of your neck, “baby i’m bored..”

“just a bit longer, okay?”

sometimes you may need some patience T-T

he also enjoys finding ways to make his own personal nickname out of your name, it feels much more special to him even if it’s not as ‘romantic’

AND OH BOY if anyone

absolutely anyone tries to use HIS name for you they’re getting the coldest death glare >:[

especially if it’s one of his members

in that case he has zero shame telling them off

“ow! what was that for?” jake whines, recoiling from the punch the younger had delivered to his arm

“you used my name for y/n,” he explains with a shy yet scolding grin, “the only thing you’re allowed to call her is her name, idiot.”

poor jake had to retell his story from the beginning,, sigh

just because he doesn’t do it himself does noT mean he won’t want you to call him cute shit!!

his reactions are always so worth it

“love, do you see my phone over there?” you feel bad interrupting your boyfriend who was peacefully napping in the living room, but the stress of being late for work was worse

instead of looking around though, riki only peels his eyes over to you, smiling giddily

“what was that?”

“have you seen my phone, doofus,” you repeat

“no, the first part!”

“love…?” suddenly he’s running over, picking you up and pulling you right over to the couch with him happily

good luck escaping his grasp c:

if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated!

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[bobbile-blog]

Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

[overlyspecific]

Part 10 of Merlin Hood

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 11, Part 12

Merlin didn’t have a lot of regrets in his life. Sure, he wished he could spend more time with his friends and do more with his magic than what he was doing, but he understood the constraints of his life. He accepted it through and through. What he did regret however was not eating back at the hideout when he got the chance.

Okay, maybe he was a little loopy from pain and blood loss, but that didn’t stop his stomach from rumbling. Merlin half excepted the noise to echo off the walls.

Merlin: *mumbling a little deliriously* Hey, Mr. Witchfinder, sir! You wouldn’t by chance have a sliver of bread or a sweet meat I can have? I would be forever grateful and I may even forgive you for the whole nasty torture business for a sausage.

Aredian: I have tortured hundreds of sorcerers to the point of madness. I have interrogated thousands of people for very important information. Never once have I ever wished for someone to be silent rather than be subjected the utter rubbish you have spewed to me and I still know absolutely nothing. You are either the most intelligent person in all of Albion or the craziest idiot I have ever met.

Merlin: Hey, I only allow one person to call me an idiot and he is currently busy retrieving a mythical sword from a lake.

Aredian: How do I even respond to something like that?

Merlin: *thinking with a determined look on his face* I mean you could ask me who the person is or why they are retrieving the sword.

Aredian: Who is the person and why are they retrieving this mythical sword?

Merlin: *smiling* The once and future king is retrieving the sword because a forest druid friend of mine told him he needed to in order to be able to follow a beacon of magic which is connected by the strings of destiny.

Aredian: *regretting every life decision he has made that brought him to this point* I really don’t know whether to let you go to put an end to your madness or kill you for wasting my time, but either way I would be going against the king’s orders.

Merlin: *sympathizing* King Uther is really picky about orders. Found that out the hard way when I ruined his favorite shirt but I couldn’t exactly offer to clean it with magic at the time. Do you think he would be mad if I broke in and fixed it now? No, don’t answer I know its too risky for something unimportant. Its still gonna bother me though.

Aredian: *storming out of the dark room* DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?!

Merlin: *alone now* I think that may have been rhetorical.

Merlin shrugs his shoulders and closes his eyes.

Meanwhile, Leon is pacing where he is stationed at the front of the castle. He helped Arthur sneak out hours ago when they returned and Arthur learned of his father’s plans. Uther expected Arthur to be thrilled that their problem would finally be put to an end and Arthur played the part well, but Leon knew Arthur. He had known him since they started training to be knights together. Leon would even go as far as to say he was the one who taught Arthur how to lie when they stayed out too late at the tavern or when he disagreed with his father.

Leon saw the signs in Arthur. He saw the tightening of his fist, the crinkle of his brow and the locked in focus of his gaze. He knew Arthur was going to leave the castle and warn Merlin. What Leon didn’t know was why.

Arthur was a very smart and talented warrior and hunter. He should have tracked Merlin down years ago, but he didn’t. Leon has never understood it. However, Leon came to the conclusion that when it comes time to pick sides between Arthur and the king, Leon will support his best friend. He’s seen the good in Arthur and he decided he doesn’t always need to understand his friend to support him. All of that doesn’t mean he is any less frustrated about being left in the dark.

A couple of shadows approaching pull Leon out of his thoughts.

Gwen: *smiling* Hi, Leon.

Leon: Hello, Gwen. What has you out so late? Surely, Morgana doesn’t keep you that busy to work dusk to dawn.

Lancelot: Sorry, that would be my fault. I offered to buy Gwen a drink at the tavern and we lost track of time.

Leon: *narrowing his eyes a little* Have we met before?

Gwen: Lance here is from a neighboring village so you might have seen him around.

Leon: *unsure* yeah, maybe…

Lancelot: Well, Gwen I’d better be on my way back home. *he leans down to kiss her hand*

Gwen: *embarrassed* That’s really not necessary!

Lancelot: For you, the world, Guinevere! *Lancelot takes off back through the courtyard to the forest*

Leon: *clears his throat*

Gwen: *blushes* Sorry about that, Leon. I’d better get inside to help the Lady Morgana to bed.

Leon clears the way for Gwen to pass through, thoughts going back to Arthur. Where was that friend of his?

In the woods, just outside the clearing with the lake, Arthur was trying to traverse very quietly. His companion didn’t seem to get the memo.

Arthur: Could you be any louder?

Gwaine: Depends, what kind of noise making tools you got?

Arthur: *turning around and approaching Gwaine angrily* I’m already worried about making it to my friend in time before something really bad happens to him which will most definitely happen if the person keeping him hears us coming. So quiet down before I make you!

Gwaine: *whistles sarcastically* hey you’re the one who threatened me for help. I’m the one trusting you to keep your word, your majesty.

Arthur: *under his breath* its actually your highness.

The two continue walking in silence until Gwaine steps on a loud branch.

Gwaine: Okay so that was actually on accident, I swear.

Arthur holds up a hand to silence Gwaine. Gwaine scrunches his face in disbelief but stays still. The wait for a minute and nothing happens

Arthur: Sorry, I thought I heard-

Arthur is cut off by five bandits emerging from the trees, weapons drawn. Gwaine and Arthur immediately close ranks and stand back to back like they have fought together many times.

Bandit 1: Gwaine, fancy seeing you here. If I remember correctly, you owe me and my friends here a round. Care to pay up?

Arthur: *whispering angrily* You know these guys?!

Gwaine: *to Arthur* Unfortunately *to the bandits* You apparently don’t remember correctly. I believe I was forced to empty you and your friends cups when I knocked your sorry behind over the table for insulting a lass. I’m happy to clear up the confusion for you though.

Bandit 2: Where’s your little crew, Gwaine? They get fed up with you yet? Word on the street is you mess up everything eventually and have to leave town.

Gwaine breaks rank to attack Bandit 2, leaving Arthur to deal with the others for a moment. Arthur being the advanced warrior he is, barely breaks a sweat incapacitating Bandit 1. Excalibur moves in fast graceful arcs as he works through the bandits.

Gwaine, similarly dispatches his bandit easily and closes back in with Arthur to watch his back. They fight like a well-oiled machine and make quick work of the remaining bandits.

Arthur: *laughing and pushing Gwaine’s arm in familiarity* Where did you learn to fight? I wish some of my men were have as good as you.

Gwaine: *laughing with Arthur* Oh, here and there. You aren’t so bad yourself. Wait, what do you mean your men?

Arthur: My knights.

Gwaine: *smile dropping* Your knights as in they serve you.

Arthur: *realizing that Gwaine is peicing together that he is the prince and getting serious* Yes.

Gwaine: The person you care greatly about, it’s Merlin.

Arthur: *drawing his sword suddenly* How do you know, Merlin? Where is he?

Gwaine: Well, princess, I have good news and bad news.

[yan-randomfandom]

Hello! We're back! Can you perhaps give us yan! Dev headcanons? Like he sees us as a new, better parent than his dad, and he decides to stop trying with his dad and ends up putting all of his efforts into us instead.

I love our adopted son lol

💘ficto anon

P!Yandere!Dev Dimmadome & GN!Reader

[PLATONIC] oh no... i love this req... dev,,, our poor bb 😔 half bullet & half drabble!!

"We can't just leave him here," a foreign voice murmured, careful to try and not wake the kid. Unbeknownst to them, Dev could vaguely hear two voices under his floaty sleep.

"Eh, he should be fine," another familiar voice shrugged. His son's heart would have shattered hearing that if he were fully awake. "Now, follow me to the office—what are you doing?"

Warmth. Warmth has enveloped Dev's entire body. Your arms gently carried him, a hand cradling his head.

Dev couldn't avoid the sigh of relief leaving his lips. He unconsciously snuggled closer to you.

"...Where's his bedroom? That's where he should be sleeping." You can't believe Dale was about to leave his son on the couch. Not even sparing a blanket or a pillow. It's freezing in their living room.

A scoff left the man before he turned around. "Follow me then."

You pursed your lips as you trailed after him. Are you being too intrusive? Seeing Dev like that just reminded you of your childhood, when you'd wake up in your bedroom after sleeping somewhere random. Your hold on Dev subtly becomes more protective, which is nothing short of a welcome change for him.

When you carefully put him on the bed, his hand quickly shot up and grasped your sleeve. You and Dale exchanged looks before he personally separated Dev's hand from you.

🕶️

The day after that, you visited their house again for important business, but Dev doesn't recognize who you are.

In fact, he despised you. He thought he was about to get bonding time with his dad again, but then you rang the doorbell and took him away.

Though... Dev was surprised to see you smile when you saw him. "Hello, Dev! We haven't officially met, but I'm your dad's business partner!"

You offered your hand. His dad is behind you. He took your hand for a shake, only for his sunglasses to drop halfway when his skin touched yours.

It definitely took you some time to gain his favor. And when you finally do, well... He's the sweetest boy you could have ever met.

That's right. Sweet. He'd offer you food and make sure you're comfortable in your stay at their home.

He just soaks in every second of your company whenever either you or him and his father would visit. Sometimes, he swears that he doesn't even need his father's attention anymore. It felt new... it felt like freedom, strangely.

Dev is a sassy one. Witty banter is something you'll always expect. Calling each other the wrong name is a thing now, apparently.

His father often sees the two of you bonding. He doesn't mind it, he doesn't exactly do anything.

Surprisingly, physical touch is one of his main love languages. He likes holding hands a lot and really likes it when you carry him.

The AU Pairs are barely used whenever you're around. They're mainly there for convenience, which is strange because Dev used to utilize them for everything.

But then, Dev finds you talking to someone else. He's clearly standing right in front of you. Why aren't you greeting him? Haven't you seen him yet?

You eventually turn, smiling when you see him. He wholeheartedly smiles back. "Dev! Hi! Make yourself comfortable, okay? I just gotta take care of things first."

... He isn't a priority?

If Peri's still here (rip), then he's obviously going to use his wishes as an advantage. Although he didn't even need to wish for your affection! No rules are limiting him! How lucky is he?!

Whatever he wishes for will likely backfire on him or you, and whether he chooses to learn a lesson from that or not is up to him. Peri will always try to support his godchild.

But... If there's no Peri... Dev starts to be more and more demanding. He's absolutely needy and won't stand if you reject his request.

At some point, he'd give you the silent treatment, his shades back up and everything, and you'll have to be one begging for forgiveness.

He certainly doesn't like the fights any more than you do, but he just... he needs you.

And he'd do anything for your attention.

"Let's try and make lemonade later, okay? I'll teach you how," you grinned, carefully patting his gel-filled head. "I promise."

"You better not forget," he quipped, excitement brimming through his very core. He has always wanted to do that with his dad, but now you're here! All the lacking years of quality time can be filled by you!

then you guys will pull pranks on his dad

[onsraas]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

┊luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader — angst-fluff

summary: although the daughter of aphrodite tries, the feeling of love won't come other than from the person who not only seems oblivious, but also lacks the reciprocation of the love she so wildly desires. but, is that right?

warnings: use of y/n, 1st person, like one cuss word, (some poor writing tbh) — not proofread !!

wc: 1.3k

a/n: hello, I'm back with my take on why an "i love you, too." is more important than a bare "i love you." — also, can you notice the big fat crush I have rn through this? lmao.

ps. reblogs helps a whole lot.

photo credits | masterlist | navigation | request

My chest feels empty with the lack of a heart. I can feel it beating in my chest yet somehow the sense of emptiness remains there as I kiss this boy.

I can't remember his name, I don't even remeber if he said it or not, to be honest. But when his hands reach for my waist I try to help myself from gagging. I don't like the feeling of his hands on me.

Not as much as I like Luke's.

He's never touched me romantically, and yet his hand on my thigh trying to calm me down, his shaking hand in mine looking for comfort, his arms wrapped around me, lifting be from the ground after I told him big news, it all comes back to me before I feel a hand tug me backwards, tearing me away from the stranger I'd been kissing, who I now realise is Mark, a son of Ares.

"What is going on in here?" The voice behind me makes me shiver with recognition.

"What does it look like, dude? Leave." Mark says. He attempts to reach for my arm but I snatch it away.

Before either of them can say anything else, I turn to look at the person behind me: Luke. His face is contorted in an angry frown, glaring at Mark as if he'd just killed a kitten.

"What is it, Luke?" I say, my voice sounds annoyed, but although I'm looking at Luke, is not him whom I'm annoyed at. It's me. The fact that I had been imagining Luke kissing me while kissing someone else makes me think I'm stupid enough to not realize the truth: it's never gonna happen.

Luke's gaze softens when he looks at me, but still keeping the look of superiority. "You shouldn't be here. It's dark and you're very deep into the woods." He pauses and looks at me, but whatever he's looking for he doesn't find it. "We should get back."

"Okay," I agree. I think both of them were expecting me to put more of a fight because they look at me in confusion...or anger on Mark's side could be.

I pay Mark's insults no mind as I follow the path that will lead us back to the camp, Luke beside me.

Eventually we stop hearing Mark altogether and Luke finally says something. "Not a good one, huh?"

I shrug. My heart is overwhelmed with the sense of dread and the need to tear it out of my chest becomes more powerful with each step.

Why do I feel like this is my mother is the goddess of love? Why do I feel like this when everyone fights to get the bare minimum from me: a child of Aphrodite?

Could it be because the only person whom I really want looks at me with a shine that lacks of love?

Because every night I go to sleep I think about the stars and how they are my only companion when I see him look at someone else with the look I want all for myself.

I think about the stars whispering in my ear how I'm still dumb enough to not give up on the idea. What they don't realize, though, is that he's the one not letting me go.

He doesn't know my heart is his but still he won't drop it for it to break completely.

"Hey," Luke's hand on my shoulder stops me on my track, making me flinch a little. "What is going on?" His voice makes me want to break down and cry from how soft it is.

He is looking me right in the eye, and I can't help but notice that he's already invading my personal space with his closeness. "Nothing is going on, okay? Can we just...walk in silence?" 

"No, we can't." I don't think he's ever talked to me this serious. "Not until you stop pushing me away." 

I'm dumbfounded. "Wait, what?" My voice sounds weird to my own ears. "What are you talking about? I'm not pushing you away, Luke." 

"Yes, you are, y/n, and you've been for the last year." His eyes reflect nothing but hurt, probably remembering how this last year has gone for both of us. "You think I don't realise? You think I don't realise how you do anything to stay away from me? And my only question is: why?" 

He is closer to me than he's ever been and I can only focus on his intense blue eyes staring back at me. "That is none of your bussiness." I somehow get it out, still my voice sound breathier than normal.

I could get it out now, try to make the damage the least painful as possible, but my selfish heart tells me I can't make it better if a lose him.

"I think it is. Now, either you say it, or I'm going to say it myself." Still, I don't say a word. He leans impossibly closer, and my breath hitches when I feel his hand slightly touching mine, as if waiting for and invitation. 

Fuck it. "You think you know, everything about me, Luke, well you don't. The answer to your question is the only thing you should have noticed and it's yet the only thing you see to have no clue about. The only reason I've been avoiding you, and doing anything to stay away from you is because..." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "It is because I love you, Luke. I have loved you from the very moment I met you all those years ago."

Luke looks at me as if a just grew a third head. Yet, somehow, I can for the first time feel my heart. 

"Why were you kissing mark then?" He asks.

I scoff. "None of them matter, I've only ever done it because I wanted to stay away from you, Luke."

"Away from me? Why would you wanna make that?"

Is he serious? "You're just making fun of me at this point." I attempt to leave, but I fail when Luke grabs my arm, keeping me from leaving. 

"I would never make fun of you." His voice is soft as silk. "I truly want to know."

I sigh. "I know you don't feel the same, Luke. That's okay. Just...please, don't become a stranger." 

"I would never." He takes my hand in his, bringing us closer, or noses touching. I could lean a little and our lips would touch, but I won't unless he asks me to. "Can I kiss you now?" 

When people said they felt butterflies I'd never undestood. Sure, I'd felt nervous, yet the feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach right now was so strong I wanted to vomit. I decide to nod instead.

His lips are soft in mine. One of my hands is occupied in his, while the other moves to wrap around his neck. 

The kiss is sweet at first, two people showing affection through the art of kissing. But when Luke's tongue gets access inside my mouth I feel like we are both making up for all the times we wanted to do it but couldn't, for all the years of waiting, and for the time we need to catch up.

His hand leaves mine only to get bothe his hands in my waist, tugging me closer to him, closing any possible gap there could be between our bodies. 

His hands are everywhere in my body and when his hands find the bare skin underneath my shirt I break the kiss, searching for his eyes. "Was that too fast?" He asks with pure panic.

I smile and shake my head before I wrap my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, while he does the same. 

"I love you, too." He says leaving a soft kiss in my neck. 

And there a realise that the emptiness is long gone.

[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Swapped places

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Sinister Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: Here's another one of my old fics. I have edited it and added some extra bits to it, as I thought it could be improved. I hope you like it. Thank you @strangelockd for the ideas to add :)

Summary: Stephen returns home after a 2-week-long mission, and he seems desperate to touch you. But the Stephen you give yourself to, isn't the Stephen you knew and cared for.

It had been two weeks. Two long weeks. You had been left alone, all by yourself in the New York Sanctum. It was weird staying there without Stephen. But he had work to do. Before he left he had informed you that he needed to go on a mission. A rather important one as well – because the girl he was trying to help also had the ability to travel throughout the multiverse. And you wanted to go. Really, truly did. Stephen, however, had insisted that you remain behind. It made you feel good to know he didn't want you to get hurt, and you appreciated his kindness, but you still loved being by his side.

You could never say no to him in the first place. It was impossible. And you weren’t about to argue with him and go against his opinion and word. You liked him far too much for that. Genuinely liked him. It started off as a simple and innocent crush, and that crush developed into rather strong feelings, and it led to you falling head over heels for him. But he didn’t seem to understand.

Despite your best efforts, you were never able to get him to react the way you wanted. Dropping hints, being affectionate, and responding to him in a flirtatious manner was one of your favourite things to do. There were times when you would look at him with a bright, shy smile, and he sometimes smiled at you in response. The act alone was enough for your heart to skip a beat. But that was all he gave you. A smile. A bright, wonderful smile that often made you feel faint… but that was all. You had decided that either he wasn't paying attention to you as much as you were paying attention to him, or that he wasn't as interested in you as you were in him.

*******

You were alone in your room, inside the big sanctum without another soul to keep you company. You were in the upstairs room, trying to study, but your mind was stuck on Stephen – like it usually is. But you were worried. He had been away on his mission for quite some time. The same thing had happened before: he had left for days upon days when busy with a mission, but the longest he had been away was only about a week. Stephen had been helping that girl for quite a while.

For a moment, you wondered if you should go looking for him. Maybe he was in need of assistance. Perhaps he was trapped somewhere, desperate for help. But leaving the sanctum unguarded wasn’t an option. He would never allow that.  

You tapped a finger against your chin, wondering where Stephen could be. What was he doing? Was he okay? Who was he with? Was he thinking of you as well?

There was a sudden noise downstairs that forced you to focus on your surroundings and let go of your thoughts. It was the sound of the sanctum doors opening. You bolted out of your seat, moving quicker than you ever had before. You were surprised you didn’t fall right down the stairs as you practically flew down them. Soft pants were escaping your lips when you made it down them, and then you saw him.

Stephen.

You sighed happily, your heart skipping a beat upon sight of him. He looked as handsome as ever. His eyes were darting around, and you moved over to him quickly, so eager to hear his voice, to see him up close.

“Hi,” you beamed up at him. “I missed you so, so much.”

Stephen said nothing. There was silence between the two of you, and you stared at him curiously. You focused on his eyes and noted that his own were stuck on you. His gaze was intense. Dark. He was staring at you with slightly narrowed eyes and a tilted head. The look he gave you was unlike anything he had ever given you before. It made your cheeks flush red, because you were certain he was staring at you with a look of want in his eyes. With a look of desire.

Your eyes scanned his features, trying to capture every detail. Something was different about him. The goatee on his face was longer than you remembered. There was no sign of his cloak of levitation that always seemed to drape across his shoulders. When did he change so much? And why?

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, not sure what his response would be.

“I’m fine,” he answered quickly, his voice a little nervous sounding. “Why are you asking?”

You shrugged at him. “You just look so different. Your goatee is longer.”

“I’ve been gone for so long. And I haven’t had time while I was away to trim my goatee.”

Oh, that made sense. You gave him a nod. “I see, so that’s why you look so different. But where’s your cloak?”

You noted that he seemed uneasy. His body appeared stiff, his eyes darting here and there. It was like he couldn’t get the answer out. Just as you were about to repeat the question, he blurted out a quick reply.

“It’s in another room,” he told you quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at his words and thought about his response for a moment. That didn’t really make sense. As far as you were aware, the cloak never left his shoulders unless it was for a valid reason. Like trying to save someone from falling.

“But I know your cloak never leaves your shoulders,” you told him quietly. “Unless you have a reason to take it off.”

Stephen’s cheeks seemed to go red at that, his eyes widening slightly. You could have sworn you saw him sweating a little. Why did it look like he was about to faint? You'd never seen him look that way before.

Just as you were about to ask him if he was alright, you suddenly felt his lips on yours. His tongue pushed in between your lips, a moan escaping his mouth. You gasped, your eyes widening as you tried to comprehend what was happening. Stephen was kissing you. Your Stephen. The Stephen you had such strong feelings for. The Stephen you had wanted for such a long, long time.

It was a wild kiss. Intense and deep. It was hard not to whimper as you got lost in the taste of Stephen's soft, warm lips. Having craved his touch for what seemed like a decade, you found yourself kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. As he pulled you closer, the kiss became even more heated, your bodies pressing against each other without an inch of air between you.

You then felt his hands reach down more and more until they landed on your ass. He cupped you, squeezing you tight, and you let out a soft whine. It felt so good to have him touch you, to feel him, to have him. Finally.

But why? Why was he suddenly all over you?

Placing your hands on his chest, you pulled away from Stephen, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. “Why… Why did you kiss me like that out of nowhere?”

“I’ve been waiting such a long time to kiss you, Y/N,” he told you, his voice gravelly.

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Haven’t… Haven’t you been feeling the same way?”

“I have. I have for such a long time. But… But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

Stephen said nothing after that. He just leaned back in and started kissing you again, his tongue once again pushing between your lips. Another whine left your mouth, getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours once more. The kiss got wilder and wilder, and you soon found yourself getting wet from the act alone. It was the same feeling you got when you looked at Stephen. When he smiled at you. When he made you want to pounce and pull him close and have him touch you.

And it seemed as if Stephen could suspect exactly how you were feeling, because he pushed one of his big hands into your underwear, a long finger pressed up against your clit. He rubbed at it softly at first, using your wetness to coat the bud, playing with your clit with gentle circles.

“Oh, Stephen,” you let out with a whine. You gripped his shoulders tightly, letting the new pleasure take over.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered into your ear. “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You whimpered at his words. “Please do it. Please fuck me. Want it so bad.”

With that, he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around him, staring down at him and noting the lust in his eyes as he moved. Taking you to his bedroom, he climbed on top of you immediately after placing you down on the bed. The two of you kissed, your limbs tangled on his bed as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

Pulling away from you after yet another wild kiss, he cast a quick, straight-to-the-point spell. Your clothes were suddenly off, leaving you both lying there in the nude. It was noticeable that his magic for that particular spell was a vibrant purple. It was different. However, you pushed the thought aside... Stephen was always learning new spells.

He then got back on the bed and quickly spread your legs apart. Your teeth bit into your lip as you watched him settle between your legs. There was a darkness in his eyes that you had never seen before. Watching him squeeze his cock, he pumped it a few times before pressing the swollen tip against your entrance. Then he moved into you slowly, pushing into you inch by inch.

Feeling pleasure take over, you let out a gasp. “Oh, Stephen!”

A grunt left his own lips, and you wrapped your arms around his form, your nails scratching up and down his back. Moving in and out of you, he took you with slow thrusts, pushing into you with gentle pumps of his cock. You knew why he was moving in and out of you with such gentle strokes: he was giving you time to get used to his cock, to adjust to his length. It made your heart soar, thanking him in your head for his kindness.

But, you wanted more. You wanted to feel him really take you. There was only one thing on your mind: you wanted it hard, deep, and fast.

“Please… Please move faster,” you begged him with a whisper. “Oh, please, want it faster.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes at you. There was such intensity in his gaze. He had a hunger you had never seen in him before. It was as if complete and utter desire had taken over. He did exactly as you had asked. He fucked you hard and fast, his thrusts suddenly rough. He filled you up to the hilt, stretching you out as he took you. You gasped, feeling a whole new kind of pleasure. You could feel yourself dripping on his cock, coating his length with your juices as he fucked you. He made every thrust count. Every one.

The headboard banged against the wall, the noises blending in with your own whines and moans. Your nails sank into the skin of his back as you whimpered. You were sure you would leave him bleeding, but he was making you feel so good. With each pump of his cock, you moan loudly, and with half-opened eyes, you stare up at Stephen. There was a smile on his face. A satisfied smile. You could tell he was happy, seemed to be in awe that he was making you feel so good.

It was all so wild. So intense. You had no idea Stephen could be so rough and raw during lovemaking. It wasn’t a complaint. You absolutely loved every second. Every move, every touch felt like heaven. You didn’t want it to end.

“Mm, please don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“Oh, I won’t, darling, don’t worry,” Stephen muttered back at you.

The word alone made you squeal. Darling. It sounded so good coming from his lips. So filthy but good.

Suddenly, you felt large fingers wrapping around your throat. Stephen placed his hand on your neck, grasping you firmly. The feeling wasn't enough to hurt or choke you. But it was enough for the room to suddenly spin, your vision blurry as you struggled to let out any sound. With those same dark eyes, Stephen stared down at you as he fucked you, keeping his hand firmly on your throat.

“Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well,” he grunted. “So fucking good.”

He then released his grip on your neck, and you gasped, letting out a happy cry.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you whined. “So, so good.”

“I know, my love, I know.” He moved in close, kissing you again, your lips moving together as he continued pumping his length in and out of you.

He didn’t let up. Not for a second. Every thrust of his cock was so deep. You could feel his swollen tip hitting that sweet spot deep inside your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. The feeling bloomed quickly, and you couldn't control it. Your eyes shut. Your toes curled. You were so close to meeting your peak. So close

“Mm, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

Stephen moved, getting up on his knees quickly. He grabbed your hips with his hands, holding you tightly as he fucked you. He pumped into you hard and fast, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. The room was spinning and your heart was racing and your skin felt so hot. Your centre felt like it was dripping with each thrust Stephen gave you, your pussy getting wetter and wetter. The sound of skin slapping skin hit your ears, mixing in with the sounds of your moans. A shrill cry then escaped your lips as you arched your back.

“Cum on my cock, darling. I wanna feel you come undone around me,” Stephen said, and his words had you whining. 

“Oh, Stephen!” you managed to let out. All it took was a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge. That feeling inside of you suddenly erupted, your pussy gushing around his cock as you lost it. “I’m cumming!”

Stephen grunted. Your pussy squeezed around him tight, pulling him in deeper.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum, I'm gonna cum for you, darling,” he muttered out a second later.

“Mm, please cum inside me,” you licked at your lips. “Please.”

Grunting again, Stephen pushed his length into you three more times before his eyes shut and he let out a deep “fuck!” He exploded inside of you, filling up your little slit with drop after drop of thick ropes of cum. He emptied himself inside of you, your pussy completely draining him as he moved in and out of you, his thrusts still deep and hard and wild. Like he had never felt anything as good as you.

You whined at the feeling of him cumming inside of you, your slit filled with his dripping, hot cum. He gave you one more deep thrust before he pulled his length from you, settling down next to you on the bed. You looked over at Stephen, taking in his still dark eyes, red face, and messy hair, feeling more satisfied than you'd ever been before. You couldn’t believe how rough and intense he had been. But you loved every heated second.

Your eyes remained fixed on him as you moved closer to cuddle with him. There was a look of satisfaction on his face as well. You nuzzled into his chest, hearing the sound of his heartbeat. You took a few shallow breaths. You had never felt anything so extraordinary. Your body still felt hot, covered in a light layer of sweat.

“That felt so good,” you whispered.

“Agreed,” he smiled. “That was amazing.” He moved, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close.

It only took a minute for you to fall asleep. You were so tired after what you had just done, and so happy and relieved that Stephen was back. And finally, he was looking at you in the way you had craved for so long.

You let out a soft, happy sigh, your eyes fluttering shut. You were exhausted, and you fell asleep there on Stephen’s chest, happier than you had ever felt in your life.

******

Stephen didn’t hide his smirk as he watched you. You were sleeping peacefully on his chest, letting out soft, little noises. He was proud of himself. Mighty proud. He had finally got what he had waited so long to get. He had been using the Darkhold in his own universe to watch you, spying on you every day, so desperately wanting to feel your touch…

You had no idea who you had just given yourself to. The Stephen you had grown to love and care for wasn't the Stephen that was laying in bed with you. No. Deep down, he was different from your Stephen, even though he looked almost identical to him.

The Stephen in your bed was an evil variant of the real thing. And to make matters worse: your Stephen was trapped. Trapped in an incursion universe, which was home to the evil Stephen you had just slept with, the evil Stephen you were lying next to, the evil Stephen who was staring down at you with a look of complete and utter darkness.

He had finally achieved what he had been seeking. He got you. Despite having to pretend to be someone he wasn't... It was worth it in the end. For he would do it a thousand times over just for your touch.

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @ssinimbrn-catsr0pia @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re

[inkedroplets]

#i will take the bait

i love this for me :D can i start with the 🖤supercorp that i’ve been sending everyone :DDD

I don't really like how this one turned out but I've made my peace with it. Hope you like angst. I know you do.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted…

The kiss that they share on the couch in Lena’s office is sweet and clumsy in the best kind of way. The kind of first kiss that until now Kara has only thought to exist in movies. Real life is never quite that romantic. Never that perfect. Only, this is perfect.

Almost… 

The kiss is brief and all the sweeter for its brevity but so is the rush of excitement, of joy bordering on rapturous that is there and gone in an instant. It should have flourished in her chest bursting into something so much larger than itself like a firework exploding across the dark canvas of the night sky. But the guilt makes it impossible. She can feel it seeping in through invisible cracks and with it that familiar feeling of shame from having kept something so important from Lena as it eats away at her. 

She tries to shove it aside to no avail, to cajole it into slipping back into that all-too happily forgotten corner of her mind. I’ll deal with you later, she pleads. Later, later, later. But the answer she gets back is one she doesn’t want to hear. There is no more later. Not anymore. Not after this. It’s already too late.

“Kara?” She smiles reflexively when she hears Lena call her name and brightens a little despite the storm raging inside her. It’s even easy to do so. It’s Lena, after all. 

“Are you… Is this okay?” Lena asks. She smiles just as sweetly, just as softly as the kiss they’ve just shared. “Nothing needs to change,” she says in a low whisper. “We can pretend it—” “Of course it’s okay,” Kara whispers. She touches her lips with the tips of her fingers, hoping that doing so will help her quantify what the kiss means to her. She thinks she knows what it means, or at least what she hopes it could mean for the both of them. But it feels far too soon to say aloud. Instead she leans forward shyly, tentatively and kisses Lena again. Their second kiss is as brief as their first and there’s that same rush of excitement, that same joy and Kara realizes what it reminds her of. It feels like flying… She almost tells Lena this, wondering, maybe a part of her hoping that Lena might feel the same but stops herself. She can see Lena smiling at that. The lips of her mouth curving up into an amused grin and then sees her asking: How do you know what it feels like to fly?  Playful teasing. A question to which Lena would expect no answer but one that Kara would feel obligated to provide. Because you feel guilty…

Would she launch into an awkward retelling of the last time she was on a plane, and rob her words of their sweetness? Or would she simply stumble over her words until Lena tactfully guided their conversation elsewhere like she had done so many other times in the past whenever Kara had been forced to clumsily explain away either her appearance or disappearance whenever some crisis occurred. Trying desperately not to draw attention to the fact that whenever Supergirl was around, Kara Danvers wasn’t. 

“Is this okay?” Kara asks shyly, trying to ignore the guilt that is now so much like a specter looming over her that she feels that if she turns around she might actually see it there. That if it had a shape she would see it as a faceless entity wreathed in a cape. 

“One way to put it…” Lena smiles again and glances away for a moment. She’s still looking out the window when she speaks again, maybe too afraid to see Kara’s reaction to what she has to say. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” 

 Her statement seems to shock Lena just as much as it does Kara and she understands why almost immediately. After all, is there anyone we can lie better to than ourselves?

“I think,” Kara says carefully and now it's her turn to look away, “I have too.” She nods, a little, more sure now. “Yes… I know I have.” 

It's her own little epiphany although one without any fanfare. Because it's not a truth that she's buried away in some deep, secret part of her heart. It's a truth she's run from more times than she cares to count. That she would have kept running if the circumstances were a bit different, if she had been more mindful of what it would mean, because now…

It's too late.

“Kara?” 

She knows what Lena wants to ask her. She smiles. It's harder this time and she reaches up to brush away the tears that have begun to fall like the first drops of a summer storm. 

“Happy tears,” she lies and knows that they could be. They should be, she thinks because this is everything she's ever wanted. 

Lena brushes one of them away gently before Kara can get to it. Instead of pulling her hand away it lingers and after Kara is finally able to meet her gaze, Lena leans closer and kisses her again.

It's not too late, she insists. The lie is just as sweet as it was the first time but she finds that it’s become cloying. Not that it stops her from trying to swallow it. To hope that it’s not too late. Another tear slides down her face and another. It’s only when she feels that she can no longer hold back the sob building up in her chest any longer that she reluctantly pulls away. 

“I need to tell you something,” Kara says. It spills out of her all at once like a jar of water being upended. She watches as Lena’s expression turns stony and her eyes fill with tears that shimmer but do not fall as she stands to leave.  She understands that she’s lost everything she’s ever wanted.