#but this isn’t doing what you think it is and your intentions have failed. you’re just another person in a long list of people who have

[keepingitformyself]

especially for tender ones like us

A/N: hehehehehehehehehehehehe synopsis: humor, anxiety, and the salvation of love.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: no?

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha tries not to stumble over her words when she suggests staying in, instead of going out. she does not mean to, but she does. 

how could she not? could you really blame her for wanting a quiet night? something that isn’t so public. she wanted to see you, of course, but she wanted to see you in a space you could be comfortable in, without any of the outside world and free from any distractions.  

you listen intently through the other line, you fight the giggle at catching her little stutter. she can’t see, but you smile widely at the whole thing.

“yeah, we can stay in. i can cook us dinner,” you nod. natasha’s shoulders drop in a quiet sense of relief at your words. her lips curl into a smile. “i’d like that. i can’t wait.”

although this would only be the fourth time you had met up together, to natasha, it felt like the first every single time. 

you continue talking for a little while more. natasha shares details about her day, work, and what she ate during lunch. she tells you how on her way to grab her usual coffee order, an americano, she decided she’d switch her order to a matcha latte after having had you recommend it to her. she tells you, 

“it was good, but not nearly enough caffeine for me to keep up with,” she said, her tone light but teasing. and while it hadn’t become her new favorite drink, just knowing she’d tried it for you was more than enough. her words sent your thoughts spiraling, a warmth blooming in your chest. you were certain that if she were standing next to you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss her right then and there.

but you can’t do that so instead, you just fall back on your bed like a high schooler talking to her crush. 

when you finally do meet up the following evening, natasha is buzzing with nerves she doesn't understand. she has taken down whole regimes and has fought aliens from space, yet she seems to draw the line when it comes to facing you. 

she knocks on your door, her other arm clutching a brown bag containing wine and flowers. a reasonable offering if you’re having dinner with someone you want to impress. 

when you answer the door, you're wearing a cream-colored knit sweater. 

“i thought i heard pacing out there.” you joke. 

natasha’s cheeks flush as she tries—and ultimately fails—to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “i wasn’t pacing,” she says, though the slight crack in her voice gives her away.

you step aside and invite her in, and neither of you acknowledges the quiet intimacy of the moment. it feels like more than just dinner, more than just a simple evening in your apartment.

you’re about to cook for her, and somehow, that feels monumental.

natasha’s nerves are a mess, though she can’t quite figure out why—or maybe she can. maybe it’s the way your presence makes her feel unsteady, as though the ground beneath her shifts whenever you’re near.

but natasha doesn’t want to be nervous.

she saw once—a penguin mistaking a sleeping walrus for a rock. the penguin had been caught completely off guard when the walrus stirred, nearly crushing it before it scurried away just in time.

natasha had found it funny at the time, the way surprises can sneak up on you. but now, thinking about it, it doesn’t feel so funny. it feels… unnerving.

surprises are bad for the heart, she thinks. she’s been taught her whole life to avoid them, to anticipate every possibility before it unfolds.

but knowing too much, being too prepared—that can hurt, too.

her thoughts are interrupted by your laughter, light and unburdened, as you guide her toward the kitchen. your smile is so easy, so genuine, and she can’t help but feel how good it is to exist in this space with you.

she offers to help you cook, but you shoo her away instead. you make her watch.

she sits there, with her hands on her lap, and just stares. and she can’t help the look of longing on her face. the kind of thing that suggests she wouldn’t mind this being a constant. 

you made pasta for the evening. nothing too spectacular, but natasha had treated it like you were a top chef and had spent hours crafting everything with your bare hands. 

and then once you’ve plated food for you both and you’ve gotten down to a few bites, you notice the small sigh natasha lets out. the flutter of her eyes as she takes in the meal. 

you smile at her reaction as you move some of the food with your fork. 

“do you like it?”

she looks at you, mid-chew, her mouth stuffed with the food, but she manages a smile. 

“yeah, uh, yes it’s good. it’s so good,” she says, hand over her mouth. 

you continue eating, talking about everything and anything. the night was filled with small moments that would bleed into much deeper ones. you laughed, she smiled, you smiled, she laughed. the kind of things one feels they become when around those who make you tender. 

and you don’t know how or when but you try not to notice how little by little natasha seems to retract a little. 

you decide maybe she needs a small moment for herself and start cleaning up the table. she offers to help, but you wave her off, insisting she relaxes. 

she tries to, but realistically, natasha doesn’t know how to relax. so she sits back and stares at you like she isn’t sure what to do with herself. she isn’t used to this at all. spaces like this–warm, cozy, comfortable.

the impending guilt comes. it’s all so layered. she feels so much at once. the nervousness, the anxiety, the fear of loss, the fear of not being present enough. 

natasha doesn’t know how to be here without sacrificing so much. 

after a while, natasha speaks up. 

“i should probably get going.” her voice too casual to sound like she meant it. she tries not to notice the look of disappointment on your face when you turn around to face her. 

“you don’t have to.” you find yourself saying, not wanting her to leave. 

she hums, something that says she’s already made up her mind. she gets up and gathers her things. 

you follow her to the door, or at least try to—but you pause at the end of the hall when you see her linger near the door, uncomfortably. unsure if she should leave. 

you call her out on it. “you can stay longer if you want.”

natasha wrestles with herself because she really wants to. she looks at the door as if it’d answer for her. 

you’re letting her know. 

natasha feels awkward, clammy hands. she doesn't know what she’s doing. and it’s hard to think of anything else when your eyes are screaming, don't actually leave, at her. 

you look at her carefully, trying to see if you can find any clear indication of what she may be feeling, but it isn’t hard to figure out the redhead in front of you. 

you’ve noted quite quickly how easy it comes for her walls to lower when you’re around. and if there’s anything you’ve learned from that, it’s that natasha romanoff isn’t the trained killer everyone thinks she is. 

sure we all have certain versions we show to certain people. but the natasha you know is anything but rough-edged. the natasha you’ve come to know is actually quite the opposite of what everyone else perceives. 

she’s tender, in her own silent way. too afraid to ever let too much slip away that she’s so painfully aware of everything around her. 

natasha is tenderness wrapped in quiet strength, a paradox of someone who feels deeply but guards herself fiercely. she sees the world clearly—the beauty and the harm—and carries that weight like a constant ache.

like she knows the world hurts more for those most aware of hurt. 

her tenderness isn’t soft; it’s sharp, vigilant, always bracing for the pain that comes with letting others in. you can see it in the flicker of her gaze, the way she hesitates as if expecting the world to hurt her.

and yet, she doesn’t harden. she holds onto that fragile, open part of herself, even when it would be easier not to. it’s beautiful and a little heartbreaking.

natasha looks up at you, then back down at her hands. just above a whisper, she says, 

“i don't know what i’m doing.” 

“that’s the most fun part.” you joke. she smiles, she doesn’t know how to say she wants more time. 

how could she say she feels greedy at this moment? she wants to protect being here with you. we have such little time, she thinks. 

bashfully, she steps closer to you, “i don't want to go.” she says. 

“then don’t.” and natasha almost complies. instead, she takes a step closer, her hand lifting towards your cheek. she’s so close now. 

she kisses you, soft, and shy, but you make her feel sure when your arm circles her neck, deepening the kiss altogether. when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“maybe i’ll forget my scarf,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“please do,” you replied. please leave your scarf, please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of leaving. please always come back. “that way you’ll have to come back later for it.”  

and just like that, her quiet uncertainty washes away. 

she takes her scarf off and drops it near the door. you follow her actions, you smile, amusement in your eyes. 

later that night, when natasha gets home, she texts you. 

i forgot my scarf. 

you reply, you’ll have to come get it then. 

[monsterfuckermilligan]

hey… not so quick question op……… are you not cishet? or do you love and respect any not cishet? better yet, have you ever even spoken to a not cishet person? or do you have knowledge about the cishet industry and the predatory behavior towards non cishet people? or do you just think that being not cishet is something cute and fun for stuffed or real animals that doesn’t happen to real people? i need you to explain why this is fun for you. you and all the people that do this stuff (voting or making these polls) owe real not cishet people explanations on why this is cute and not insensitive towards a marginalized group.

- hope you can hear how you sound bc ngl, it felt crazy to read your post. fucking. block people and shut up.

you really thought you did something with this but it really just puts it more into perspective on how adoptees are not taken seriously lmao. could i have blocked and moved on? yes. should i have? yeah, i even apologized to op because of it. i was unable to maintain control of my impulses, manage my own triggers, and practice solid emotion regulation at the time, and that’s on me. i take responsibility for that.

but your anon is just…yeah of course. how could i ever expect anything less? the fact is adoptees are mocked and belittled when we don’t think adoption is cute or act as if adoption is the human rights issue that it is.

adoption agencies are the backbone of the private adoption industry. they make money off of babies. they make money selling babies. this is an irrefutable fact.

they base our prices off of gender, age, disability, and race. they advertise in low income communities the most and tell first parents that their child will be better off with someone else. they tell them that it is an act of love. they take money from infertile couples, who are constantly told that they have ‘other options’ and given very little respect for the trauma and deep sadness infertility causes. they were started and popularized by a human trafficker named georgia tann. the adoption industry is now a multi billion dollar industry.

you are speaking to someone who just has to live with the knowledge that my adoption agency could’ve forged my documents because they did it to others. i am someone who has to accept that my adoption agency has been investigated for human trafficking. i am someone who exists with the knowledge that there is a price tag on my head. i was given to the people who bought me in a hotel room. compared to some of my friends, i am lucky, and my adoption was not wonderful by any means. i lost my first family, my siblings, my language, my country, and that doesn’t even count anything that happened after. i sounded like a person who’s been adopted who is angry that adoption is often not taken seriously, especially in fandom, and especially especially by (presumed) non adopted people.

you felt the need to parody my rb in an attempt to mock me and minimized the issues of two marginalized groups, and walked directly into the point.

one of the big differences in your comparison is that queer people and trans people are recognized by the majority, and legally to many countries, as a marginalized group. this is not true for adoptees. adoptees are 4x more likely to attempt suicide, more likely to be harmed and abused by their adopters, more likely to be killed, have higher rates of institutionalization and incarceration, and we even have our own remembrance day for those of us who don’t make it. it is this month. october 30th.

and as someone who is exceedingly educated on adoptee issues; the history of adoption, how it coincides with colonization and genocide when we talk about transnational adoption, transracial adoption, not to mention just the sheer amount how many of us have our records falsified by adoption agencies, how we are rehomed online, and the lack of regulation with the private adoption industry, and the way our identities are legally changed with no way of ever undoing it, this is genuinely not a 1:1 comparison.

queer issues are seen as real. adoptee issues are not.

it’s ironic to me because as a queer and trans person, i am allowed to be angry and pissed off to many people, even according to cishet people! i am allowed to make mistakes and still be seen as having a valid opinion even when i don’t express it correctly.

as an adoptee, however, i am always expected to be the bigger person, to just deal with it in silence, and if i have an issue, say it in the most polite way as to not offend anyone. as adoptees, we are just supposed to sit back and be fine with not having access to our medical records, we are supposed to be fine with how kids get posted online for people to buy adopt, ignore the amount of suicides and those of us who die by abusive adopters, and just be accepting of how the ACLU fought to give queer couples the right to adopt but won’t fight for adoptees’ rights because they financially benefit from the adoption industry. we’re supposed to just get therapy and never publicly express complex emotions or anger about the adoption industry or the way we are invalidated.

and honestly? that’s fucking bullshit. i don’t subscribe to that idea.

adoptees are allowed to be angry and make mistakes. we are human beings who have survived a trauma that isn’t even deemed as one by many. we shouldn’t have to be happy and grateful, kind and polite. this shouldn’t be the case. it’s not a commonly accepted practice to tell queer and trans people that we should be grateful for having to be closeted and shouldn’t express any negative emotions about our oppression or the violence we face. it’s not expected of us to just be quiet or respectful about our oppression.

adoptees deserve that same grace and respect. if you think otherwise, then do some internal reflection. that’s not my problem.

but… thank you for being an example of how adoptees are gaslit into staying silent about our injustices.

thank you for showing your whole ass and proving my point.

not to mention the hypocrisy of this anon in the first place; you could’ve just as easily blocked me and moved on, but you didn’t. you felt the need to mock me and say something you’re clearly uneducated about. you wanted me to know ‘how i sound’—well, you sound like maybe you should take your on advice. it’s also interesting to me how you kept it on anon so i couldn’t have a genuine conversation. hey…not so quick question anon……are you a fucking coward?

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

[salemlunaa]

SHIFTING ISNT MAGIC, ITS NOT SPECIAL ꨄ

you need to understand that if you ever want to leave this place….

i feel like me and so many bloggers have stated this but for the millionth time, here we go!!

you cannot fail to shift, nope. sorry. idc what you think, it genuinely isn’t possible, manifesting is shifting, wether you have manifested actual things you wanted or you’ve manifested that awful mindset where you are so sure you can’t shift and tap in to the void, you still shifted to a reality where that was true by manifesting it.

Stop thinking shifting is impossible, it isnt, like at all. The reason you fail is because you think this is impossible and that you're using some magic method to live a new life but you’re not, there are infinite realities and the idea that you have your dream life is the fact in many realities, so for those who wanted the logical side to thinks there you go, it has been proven that we live in a multiverse, so shift your consciousness to a reality where you have all you have dreamt of. the void isn't some magical place it is in you, it IS you, you need to remember that

I saw this absolutely perfect analogy on @rainshifts page: think of the universe as a chocolate chip cookie and the different realities as the chocolate chips. When we shift consciousness, we aren't jumping from chocolate chip to chocolate chip, we are the batter the ingredients we ARE all those chips, not jumping to and from them. We are not new characters in our desired realities we ARE those realities

The reality in which you want to be in isn’t some faraway place where you are new character, that reality is in you, it is you, all you are seeing now IS you. You are the fabric, nothing less

Shifting consciousness isn’t special, if you have a brain you are more than capable of shifting consciousness, again, we were born for this, it’s not some special, magical talent, it’s something that is as simple as breathing, something that has been owed to us since the beginning. Stop asking bloggers the same questions, if you have the intent it can be instant, you need to remember shifting isn't some form of magic, it's a basic human ability that only requires the brain. you're just shifting consciousness, you're just shifting your awareness to a specific reality, it's not magic or some cool discovery you can do it instantly if you believe that you're god of your reality

believe that you are the operant power and it’s done, look to imagination, you have shifted because it’s as easy as breathing the void is a lifeless space that only gains power when YOU, PURE CONSCIOUSNESS step into the equation.

The reality you’re in now only has life to it because you’re consciousness has been placed here, shift it with ease simply because you can.

STOP MOPING ABOUT HOW HARD THIS IS, ITS REALLY NOTHING SPECIAL 🐆💋

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo watching 'How to Be a Better Husband' videos in secret so he'd be ready if you ever said yes

Satoru Gojo isn’t exactly known for being serious. He’s loud, playful, and the absolute embodiment of overconfidence dripping from each and every pore. So when you walk into the living room and see him hunched over his phone, intently focused on something, it’s strange enough to make you stop in your tracks.

You peer over the back of the couch, curious. His earbuds are in, and his eyes are glued to the screen. You can’t hear the sound, but the title of the video makes your brows shoot up and heart skip a beat.

“How to Be a Better Husband.”

Your first instinct is to laugh. Satoru watching something like that? The man who can't even remember what day of the week it is, let alone handle responsibility in any meaningful way? The man who never fails to make fun of you, who never gave you the feeling that your relationship is this serious before?

But as you watch him sit there, shoulders tense and gaze unwavering, a strange warmth curls in your chest. Is this...really how he feels?

He pauses the video to take notes - actual notes. Scribbling them down on a notepad with the same intensity he usually reserves for strategizing in battle. You blink, feeling heat shoot up your cheeks.

What’s more shocking is the care written all over his face. His usual cocky smirk is gone, replaced with concentration, like this is something he doesn’t want to mess up. And maybe that’s what hits you hardest. The fact that he’s trying. That he’s preparing for something you haven’t even agreed to yet.

You haven’t said yes to marriage, haven’t even had a real conversation about it. But here he is, studying for a future he’s hoping for, one where you’ve chosen him. He’s already thinking of how he can be better, how he can be enough for you.

The thought stirs something deep in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you finally ask, your voice teasing but soft as you lean over the back of the couch.

He jumps slightly, pulling out one earbud as he looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, y’know… just, uh… preparing.”

He waves his phone in the air, as if that explains everything.

“Preparing for what?”

You tilt your head, pretending not to notice the blush creeping up his neck.

“For… when you marry me, obviously.”

He grins wider, but there's a nervousness underneath it, like he's half-joking but also completely serious.

“Gotta make sure I’m husband material, right?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“And watching YouTube videos is going to make you a better husband?”

“Hey, don’t knock it 'til you try it. These guys have great tips.”

He taps his phone, the confidence slipping back into his voice, though his eyes still flicker to you like he’s waiting for your reaction.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself.

“Satoru, you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” he teases, sliding his arm around your waist as you lean over the couch.

His tone is light, but the way his eyes hold yours for a moment longer than usual - it makes your heart flutter.

And he’s right. You do love him. In all his chaotic, larger-than-life glory. But this? Seeing him like this, quietly working to be better for you? It’s a different side of him, one that makes you realize just how much he’s thought about a future with you.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he blinks up at you, surprised.

“What was that for?”

“For trying,” you say quietly.

"You’re already enough, you know."

His grin softens, and he pulls you down into his lap, wrapping you in his arms.

“Good to know. But I’m still watching these videos. Just in case.”

You chuckle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Whatever makes you feel prepared.”

Satoru hums, content. “I want to be ready for the day you say yes.”

And the way he says it. Like he knows that one day you will makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to feel the same way.

[nanamistiee]

loverboy. // megumi fushiguro x reader

ooh, lover boy! what're you doing tonight? ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ megumi fushiguro x reader ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ━━━ ( ⋆｡°✩ tw: n/a) ━ (wc: 1,015 ) ━ ( song inspo ✩°｡⋆) ━━━

what kind of woman is your type?

ever since todo had posed the question, megumi hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. at the time, he’d spewed some nonsense -- not having a particular type -- mostly because he’d believed the question was completely out of place and nonsensical; which, in his defense, it was. the other male was less than pleased with his answer, even going as far as to call him boring. yet, megumi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even answered truthfully.

“gumi,” your voice finally breaks the silence between you two. he’d been so lost in thought he’d nearly forgotten you were a foot away from him, staring intently as you sipped away at your matcha latte. “you’re so quiet today,” you frown, fiddling around with your straw. has he upset you? 

he matches your frown almost instantaneously. “i don’t think i’m being any more quiet than usual,” he tries his hardest to coolly retort, an impulsive hand rushing toward you to ruffle your hair in a desperate attempt to act like nothing’s wrong. no, his mind totally isn’t waging an entire war right now. no, he’s not at all debating on, perhaps, one of the most crucial decisions of his life.

whether or not to dare risk ruining your friendship. 

──────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────────

“you make me sick,” maki’s voice, a disgusted groan, breaks his concentration entirely. as he whips his head toward the green haired girl, he realizes something. he’d been staring at you this entire time. you were several feet away, talking to panda. yet, the black haired boy is absolutely mesmerized. the way your eyes light up and sparkle every time someone makes you laugh… the way every time you flash your pearly white teeth seems to make his heart flutter. there’s something about you that he’s absolutely addicted to, but megumi fushiguro swears he’d never tell a soul about any of this. no, you two are friends. what if you didn’t like him back? what if he tells you how he feels and you never want to speak to him ever again? consumed by his thoughts, he fails to realize you and panda are waltzing right up to them. 

he clears his mind with a visible shake of his head, tilting his head and looking at maki with his best ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. was he really that obvious? he makes a mental note to stop trying to stare at you less, yet this feels like an impossible task.

“just ask her out already, loverboy,” maki sticks out her tongue. he doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“ooh, ask who out?” you question, clasping your hands together as you sit down next to your best boyfriend. he heard your voice. your voice. you just sat next to him. 

he swears he nearly jumps out of his skin upon realizing you’d just walked into a conversation about you. could he play it off? act stupid? what kind of lie could he tell to get out of explaining that maki was teasing him about you? were they talking about another girl from another school? no -- something about even pretending to like another girl feels wrong. 

“‘gumi’ likes a girl, but he’s too much of a pussy to ask her out,” maki snickers. it seems she’s even poking fun at your nickname for him, and he silently prays that you don’t notice this. “as a fantastic and the best friend anyone could ever ask for, i’ve been trying to encourage him.” her sarcasm is nearly enough to make his skin crawl. she’s deadpanning and making it so obvious it hurts. 

“do we know who this girl is?” you ask. maybe he’s making things up -- imaging things to make himself feel better -- but he swears your eyes dull and shift from the beautiful, sparkling orbs they always were. “we do not!” maki clicks her tongue, and megumi can finally breathe a sigh of relief. or so he thinks. “say… what’s your type anyway?” she segways the conversation almost cruelly, staring you dead in your eyes.

you seem to take a moment. firstly, to inhale a sharp breath. then, you take a second to think, furrowing your brows together in a moment of deep thought. a few beats pass and you finally exhale your sigh, and megumi swears you three have been sitting in silence for eternity. “tall,” you start, and he swears his stomach is tying itself into knots. “reserved… smart -- gotta be smart,” you chuckle and grin. “maybe even a little stoic. like i can never tell what’s going on in his head, but i always at least hope he’s thinking about me somewhere in there.”

in his state of sheer panic, he nearly misses the obvious blush dusting your cheeks. maki could’ve smacked him right in the back of his head and he still would’ve missed it. yet, somehow, you still have more to say. “someone who’s always thinking about other people… protective, i guess. someone mature and who always takes things seriously, even if other people think he’s a pain in the ass for it.” he can’t help but feel a bit guilty about giving such a lame answer to todo now, especially when you’ve had plenty to say. megumi opens his mouth to speak, yet he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say to that. he prays deep down you’re talking about him, but it’s not exactly like he can voice that out loud--

“oh my god!” maki groans, throwing her head back. “you two are absolutely disgusting!” “you know she’s talking about you, right?” she hisses aloud, giving megumi, perhaps, the dirtiest look she could ever muster. “it’s actually so painful to watch you two dance around each other!” with her opinions growing quite vocal, maki stands up and crosses her arms. “do i have to do it for you? or are you two gonna talk about your disgusting and obvious feelings for each other?”

[p0orbaby]

A Drop in the Ocean

summary: you buy barça for alexia

warnings: none

a/n: requested on the back of a similar one i wrote

word count: 1.5k

-

You don’t even think about it anymore, the money. The commas and zeros stopped meaning anything the moment they started adding up faster than you could count. You don’t remember exactly when it happened, just that it did. One day you were checking the balances on your brokerage account religiously, watching the stock tickers on your phone at breakfast, and then at some point—probably after that second meeting in Geneva or maybe the fourth trip to Dubai—you stopped caring altogether. The accounts became endless, infinite, numbers that only existed on a screen and held no weight in the real world. You could buy anything, do anything. You do.

You’ve bought Barcelona FC. For Alexia.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult purchase, and that’s what bothers you, how easy it was. You’d made a few calls, orchestrated a few backroom meetings with men in navy-blue suits who wear Patek Philippe watches but don’t know how to spell "integrity," and within weeks, it was done. The club—one of the most storied institutions in world football—was now, for all intents and purposes, yours. They were failing in every department that mattered, so it wasn’t hard to make them see reason. The board was crumbling under its own corruption and incompetence anyway, the men in charge having long ago stopped caring about anything other than their own salaries. They saw the numbers you offered and couldn’t sign the dotted lines fast enough.

You’re sitting in the back of your Bentley Bentayga—the V8 model because the W12 felt too much, like gilding the lily—watching the city of Barcelona pass by in blurred streaks of sunlight and shadows. You don’t drive yourself anymore; it’s not that you’ve forgotten how, but why would you bother when you can pay someone to do it for you? You’re sipping on an iced Americano from a local coffee roaster that isn’t La Colombe but isn’t Starbucks either—because Starbucks is for tourists and people who don’t care what real coffee tastes like—and tapping your thumb against the cool glass, counting down the minutes until you get home. Home isn’t the place you grew up, or even the first penthouse you bought in Barcelona—God, you’ve already sold that one off—but the sprawling villa in the hills that overlooks the city like a predator watching its prey.

You’d bought the house because Alexia liked it. You had taken her to see it on a whim, even though you knew you’d buy it regardless of her opinion. But she’d loved it, her eyes lighting up in that way they do when she’s genuinely moved by something, not when she’s just being polite or trying to please you. It’s rare, that reaction, and you’ve noticed it only happens when she’s either on the pitch or somewhere quiet, somewhere she can breathe. It makes you feel something, a tightness in your chest, almost a panic, like the world’s collapsing in on itself, but in a good way. If there even is a good way for that to happen.

Your phone buzzes, vibrating against the buttery-soft leather of your seat. You glance at it and see it’s a text from her.

Training's over. Home soon?

You smile, the kind of smile that makes the people around you uneasy, because they never know if it’s genuine or not. It is, but it’s small, fleeting, like everything in your life that isn't Alexia.

On my way. You send the reply quickly, almost too quickly, like you’re not supposed to care that much. But you do. You always do.

You met Alexia when you were young—stupid young—back when you still believed that success was something you had to fight for. She was everything you weren’t: grounded, focused, humble. Even now, with all the accolades and the Ballon d'Ors and the fanfare, she still feels *real* in a way you don’t anymore. She still eats cereal for breakfast sometimes, not some overpriced organic granola shipped in from the Swiss Alps. She’ll sit on the sofa in her sweatpants and watch trashy reality TV with you, her feet in your lap, like the world outside doesn’t exist. Like she’s not the face of women’s football, the woman everyone wants to be. You want to be her too, sometimes.

But then you remember: she’s yours. And you’re the one with the power, the one pulling the strings now. You’re the one who’s going to fix everything for her.

You think about the RFEF, the Royal Spanish Football Federation, and how utterly revolting they are, how they’ve mishandled everything about the women’s game. It makes you angry, but not in the way normal people get angry, not in that quick, fleeting way. Your anger is cold, calculated, the kind of anger that doesn’t make itself known until it’s too late. You’d called in favours—favours you didn’t even know you had—and now you’re restructuring the whole thing from the inside out. The old guard, the men who’ve spent years belittling and undermining women’s football, will be gone soon, and they don’t even see it coming. You’ll replace them with people who actually care, people who understand what’s at stake.

Alexia doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t need to. She already carries enough weight on her shoulders; you see it in the way she moves, the subtle slump in her posture after a long day. She’s been fighting this fight for years, but you can take it from here. You’ll make sure she never has to fight again.

When you finally pull up to the villa, the sky is turning that particular shade of burnt orange that only seems to exist in Spain. The driver opens your door, and you step out, the sound of your Louboutins clicking against the cobblestone driveway. You’re wearing something understated but expensive—a cream-coloured silk blouse from The Row, tailored trousers that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, and a watch that could fund a small country’s healthcare system for a year. You’ve always preferred quiet luxury, the kind of wealth that doesn’t scream but whispers, softly, in the background. Alexia likes that about you. At least, you think she does.

You walk through the front door—minimalist, custom-made, imported from Italy—and the scent of jasmine fills your lungs. Alexia’s perfume. She’s here.

You find her in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa, her legs up on the coffee table, still in her training kit. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her face. She’s scrolling through her phone, probably reading up on whatever the media is saying about the latest match, and she looks up when you walk in. There’s that smile again, the one that makes everything else disappear for a moment, just a moment, but long enough to matter.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, like it’s only meant for you.

You cross the room and sit next to her, pulling her legs into your lap, your fingers automatically tracing circles on her shins. You don’t say anything for a while, because neither of you needs to. The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, the kind of silence that only comes when two people have been through everything together and still come out on the other side.

“I bought the club,” you say, casually, like you’re talking about picking up milk from the store.

Alexia looks at you, her eyes widening for a second before she catches herself. She’s good at that, at pretending nothing surprises her, but you know her well enough to see through it.

“You did what?” she asks, her tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“I bought Barcelona,” you repeat, leaning back against the cushions. “They were fucking it all up, especially with the women’s team. I’m fixing it. For you”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you can see the gears turning in her head, trying to process what you’ve just said. It’s not that she doesn’t believe you; she does. It’s just…a lot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says finally, but there’s no conviction in her voice. She knows as well as you do that you don’t *have* to do anything. You want to.

“I did,” you reply, your voice firm. “Because they don’t care about you. Not like I do”

She looks at you for a long moment, and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the push and pull of wanting to argue but knowing there’s no point. You’ve already made up your mind. You always have.

“Thank you,” she says eventually, and the sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. You’re used to people thanking you, sure, but it’s always perfunctory, transactional. This is different. This is real.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything is perfect. You don’t think about the money or the power or the corruption you’ve spent years navigating. You don’t think about the board meetings or the backroom deals or the restructuring of the RFEF. You just think about her, and how she’s the only thing that makes any of it worth it.

When you pull back, she’s smiling, and it’s that smile again—the one that makes your chest tighten and your heart race in a way that nothing else does. Not even the money.

“Let’s go fix everything,” you say, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you already have.

[izvmimi]

cw: repost. oral (fem giving), inexperienced!zhongli.

for someone who’s been alive for well over 6000 years and prides himself on knowing... well, everything, zhongli isn’t always well-experienced.

not in one particular domain, anyway.

there’s a lot you have had to teach him about life among mortals that fails to be captured by faraway observation or between the pages of a thick encyclopedia. 

but he learns quickly. always.

“t-too many!” you blurt out breathlessly, pulling your lips away from him to gently push his hand out of the way. you have been making out, your back against the wall by a bookcase in his living room, your arms around his neck, one leg hiked up and hooked around his waist to allow him access to your pussy. zhongli’s fingers look slender and delicate when compared to his large hand, but each finger is quite thick and he’s made it up to three in your hole while sticking his tongue down your throat. the stretch would be delightful if not for the fact that you haven’t been made ready yet.

he pulls out immediately, murmuring a word of apology. his cheeks are still flushed and the golden glow in his red-rimmed eyes hasn’t yet faded. mouth still slightly parted and wanting, he waits for your next step.

is it a hard stop you’re requesting? he doesn’t want to stop. his heart is pounding quickly and frankly he’d like to simply bury himself inside you at this point and lose his mind but he knows some restraint.

easing his internal distress you smile and kiss him on the cheek. 

“let’s do something different.”

something different is having him sit back at the chair where he had been catching up on some reading just before you’d gotten entangled. you turn him in the chair to face you; he takes a careful look at your expression, unable to discern whether or not you’re angry.

knowing fully well what he’s thinking, you decide to be forthright with your intentions. leaning over him in his chair, you ask,

“do you trust me?” there’s a mischievous glint in your eye that he should be a little wary of. his eyebrows knit together but he replies yes.

“stay still then,” you sing. zhongli is normally controlled to the point of being immovable, but now you can feel how tense he becomes gradually as you slowly unbutton his pants. 

zhongli’s erection is impressive in size, as you are well aware, with hardness fitting the literal god of rocks. his eyes lower as your hand circles the base, your touch light enough simply to cause him some nervous anticipation. you pause, appreciating the heat, and he fights the instinct to move against your palm.

“sweetheart...” he starts hesitantly, as you move painfully slowly to your knees. there’s a thickness to his voice that betrays his arousal. “what are you doing?”

his legs part to make room for you as you approach closer. from this angle, you realize you haven’t taken a very good look at his cock before. a lovely light brown, perfectly straight and thick all around with a prominent vein on the underside and a healthy blush at the head. he’s leaking from the slit, possibly more so because you’re staring at his package so intently. he might cum just from the sight.

you pump just once before wrapping your lips around the head and he deteriorates.

“shit.”

zhongli's speech has always been proper up until now. but at this very moment, as he feels the warmth and wetness of your mouth that is similar but also far different from the warmth of your walls, there’s no polite way to express the fact that he’s never had his head spin in exactly this way before. there’s only the deep moans that leave his throat as you hollow out your cheeks and take in as much of him as you can in your throat and tense grip in your hair that can express his excitement. his head falls back and he seems to wear away in his chair, then maybe he’s far too overwhelmed and trembles his hips jerk upwards, meeting your ministrations up and down his shaft.

his hands find their way around the back of your head as he fucks your face and gingerly, then with more force, he pushes himself even further into you, and tips over; you can feel hot cum hit the back of your throat and you breathe diligently through your nose, digging your hands around his hard thighs for steadiness.

zhongli has always looked at you with awe but now as you swallow every drop and pull back so you can breathe freely once again, giggling a little at his flustered/partially terrified face, he’s certain you’re a goddess.

“you must teach me how to do that for you.”

you straddle his lap and walk a few fingers onto his chest.

“now?” you tease.

“now.”

[xxsabitoxx]

Fushiguro Megumi hates it when you get injured.

Something about it, no matter how big or small the injury is, just gets under his skin and pisses him off. Which comes off has him being mad at you, unfortunately. It’s not his intention, fuck no, he’s just so upset it happened in the first place.

It’s not till you get injured bad that you realize he’s not mad at you, rather, he’s mad at himself. There is a lingering guilt in Megumi’s eyes when you get hurt, as if he failed you.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” You had questioned late one night, laying in an infirmary bed with an IV in your arm because Shoko’s technique and the curse’s attack were not working well together. Meaning you were on strict bed rest until you were fully healed. Megumi hated that too, of course.

He didn’t answer, instead he flipped the page of his book with pursed lips. “I’m talking to you, Meg. It’s rude to ignore.” That got to him, closing his book slowly as he dragged his eyes up the bed to look at you. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

You repeated your previous statement, knowing he heard you the first time but he wouldn’t answer unless you asked again. “Yeah.” His tone was low, not convincing whatever. “Liar.” You shot back, moving your arm to rub your tired eyes.

Megumi watched the tube move with you, the dark liquid slowly dripping from the bag down the line and into your veins. “I’m not lying.” He nearly spat, anger bubbling in his gut at the sight of the retched medical machinery you were hooked too.

You sighed, “I’m sorry for getting hurt. I know it’s frustrating and all but li-“ but Megumi was cutting you off with a near incredulous look. “What?” Was all he said, leaving you to blink at him as you tried to wrap your head around his confusion.

“Y-you’re mad cause I’m careless, right? Because I keep weighing you down by getting myself injured?” You stated this as if it were factual, watching Megumi’s face morph into one of genuine bewilderment and mild offense.

“No?! What the fuck makes you think that?!”

"Because... you don't talk to me for like three days after the fact?" Megumi couldn't exactly fight you on that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it really did come off that way. "I...shit no that's not..." he tossed his book on your bed, hands coming up to rub his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not mad at you. I've never once been mad at you for getting injured. I just..." he sighed, turning to look at you now "...I just get frustrated with myself. I don't like seeing you hurt, it makes me feel like I didn't do enough. Then, I sit here promising myself to do better for you the next time we go out on a mission together, and then we end up right back here. With you in a hospital bed."

Megumi's face had turned a shade of pink. He always felt fidgety having these kinds of conversations. Especially with you, especially about his feelings. "Oh..." you started, mulling over his words carefully before sighing. "You can't beat yourself up over this stuff, Megumi. It's my life and my choice to be a sorcerer. Getting hurt is part of the job." You watched him shift in his chair.

"I know it's part of the job. I just don't like seeing you get hurt. Especially when I'm supposed to be supporting you. We're supposed to look out for each other on these missions and I keep failing you." Megumi's eyes darted anywhere around the room, hands folding neatly as he tried not to seem nervous.

"Megumi." You stated it bluntly, praying he'd look up. He did, of course, he did. For some reason, he couldn't deny you when you said his name like that. "C'mere." you whispered, motioning him to sit on the edge of your bed. He listened, getting up to move the small distance and trying his best to keep you stable as the bed dipped.

"You can't go on with your life quietly beating yourself up for things that are out of your control... and mine for that matter." Your hand carefully reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth burning under your fingertips. Megumi looks at you, head-turning reluctantly. "I love you too much to let you feel guilty."

Quiet. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The look on Megumi's face was utterly priceless. Pure disbelief. No way he heard you correctly. His tired mind and sore back must be playing tricks on him. "You... what?" He croaked, brows furrowing in denial. You smile, huffing out a laugh. "I said I love you, Megumi."

He wasn't sure how to act in that moment. Every word he could think of was fizzling out before it could reach his mouth. Instead of killing himself trying to respond verbally, Megumi did the only thing he could think of. A surprised squeak left you as his lips pressed against yours, hands shaking as they gingerly cupped your cheeks.

The kiss itself lasted maybe twenty seconds, leaving you a little breathless from being unprepared as he pulled away. "I... guess that means you love me too?" you teased him, a grin on your face. Softly, Megumi huffed out a laugh before responding.

"Yeah, it means I love you too."

Started this a few days ago and didn’t even realize it was Megumi’s birthday today! So, happy birthday, Meg :)

Hope you enjoyed! - May

[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader. (part 2)

①PART TWO: DO NOT TOUCH, PERFECT WORLD, CANDY.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering. PART 1. words: 4k+

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, marking, fingering (f receiving) & oral (m receiving) , mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, handcuffs, degradation kink, cock warming, nipple pinching, slapping, spitting, jealousy, cum eating, almost caught, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, cunnilingus, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

After all, Donna is a friend and you have to be loyal. She’s done nothing wrong, like others… 

Time hasn’t been the best, but it's making progress. People guess things have been complicated, thanks to… well, the incident of some days ago.  They didn’t know the whole story though.

After leaving Dick in his room alone, you proceed to go and call Harley to tell her all. You weren’t as excited as her, some part of you felt… bad? Watching him everyday now, felt like the past but in a bad way. Your heart wasn’t ready to deal with this.

You enjoyed the moment, but that’s all.

You need to prepare your heart for the following days. But it was becoming too much. Is that how he felt? If what he told you was true…

Even though he hasn’t shown any kind of anger towards you, it made you even more confused than before. Did this not affect him? 

Who would’ve imagined this bitter ending. You felt good, like you let out a part of you. It’s like you gave your back to the titans again. 

And the worst thing after him being unbothered with this whole ordeal it’s like he got closer with Kory. Something about their relationship seemed SO suspicious that it made you even madder. You’re pretty sure they’ve definitely slept together. 

None of your intentions of being ‘annoying’ towards Dick made any progress, but oh how naive you are.

To say he’s not mad at you isn’t completely true. He is, but he’s more heart-broken than anything else. Is this how you felt? Everything seemed different for him; a whole new sky, a whole new view, a whole new you.

He used to think there was hope in the future without you, but oh how wrong was he. He forgot that shine you brought him everyday, your beautiful smile when you woke up in his arms. He needed that again.

He tried to make you think he was unbothered with this, he didn’t need to show you his hurt side again. He had to be strong until the time was ready to touch you again. Right now he had to watch you, watch you take care of Conner, being in the tower with him.

And he never failed to notice how your brows slightly furrowed every time you saw him with Kory. So he started doing it more times, just to keep that hope up you still love him and miss him just like he does. 

But he needed to show and prove he won’t hurt you again, that he’s not that man that left you. It’s like you wanted to keep him away with your wholehearted rejection, but somehow he’s always a step behind from telling you ‘I love you’.

One night, you decided to take a break from being a ‘fake titan’ and decided to distract yourself by going out with Harley and maybe cause some problem. How could you think you wouldn’t cause any problem when Harley Quinn is by your side?

Running away from the siren police after robbing a luxury store, Harley by your side, you knew this wasn’t to be easy.  Running into an empty dark alley, it was a crowded night, and crimes were easily found this night. So it’s impossible for you two not to find a fucking hero.

And by a fucking hero, I mean fucking nightwing.

Great.

‘Oh, what do we have here? The mysterious friend Harley is always with. Where’s your partner huh?’

You looked at your left where Harley was supposed to be, looking confused back at Nightwing. ‘Oh right, don’t worry, one of my friends is dealing with her.’ He stepped closer at you, examining your costume, mask, if you're armed. ‘Now… Who are you?’

‘It’s none of your business.’ You tried to act rough but it sounded more of a mumble, knowing you were about to fight with fucking Nightwing. Fucking Dick Grayson.

‘Is that so?… What's so special about you that you don’t get caught as easily as Harley?’ 

Uh well, maybe she’s over-confident and clumsier? But she always knows the Joker is going to save her, so that’s why you don’t get scared for her safety. It’s kinda obvious…

‘Stop with the shitty chat, are we going to fight or not?’

‘I think you deserve another kind of punishment, is that so… Y/N?’

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

You felt your blood run cold at the words that left out Dick’s mouth, trying to regain your composure you coughed a little, ‘What are you talking about? Who is she huh? Our dear nightwing finally got a girlfriend?’

He let out an audibly laugh coming out from his chest, ‘Quit the act. We discovered your fantastic note Harley let you with the underwear, a nice pair by the way, would look good in your body. I have to admit she has a nice taste.’

He stepped even closer to you, ‘Oh, and what about your little call with her? Talking about Ivy and the fucking sex pollen? Thank God Kory was there to notice something was going on and told me to check the cameras.’

The fucking cameras. Shit. How could you be so fucking stupid? Of course he would have cameras everywhere. ‘My question is, why do you keep helping us? What 's your plan?’ 

‘If I tell you my plan, what are you going to do about it?’

He made a mocking gesture of him thinking for a second before sighing, ‘Depends on how bad it is.’

Fuck it. You already did it, and you’re sure you could get some hits right now. ‘My plan was for you to fucking cry for me.’

You could swear you noticed his face breaking a little before smirking again, he chuckled at you, what’s so funny?, ‘Oh…’ He stepped even closer to you, centimeters away from finally being completely close enough, ‘That’s the thing? That’s why you said those things?’ You slightly nodded, his presence becoming too much for you, looking at the floor you mumbled a little yes. ‘Mmm, let me think about how hard your punishment should be.’

Without a second to react, your body was caged between his arms and the wall. Taking the air out of you, looking up at him with an angry face he looked happy. ‘Quit the fucking act Dick, just hit me or something.’

‘You think i’m going to be that nice to you? I’ll just return the favor.’ Your face changed into confusion, his lips almost touching yours. You could feel his breath. ‘W-what do you mean?’ His lips locked with yous, catching you by surprise

His thumb digs into your cheeks and the other four fingers grip your face as he opens your mouth with pressure, tongue jutting out slightly. Dick sniggers, You might as well be begging to get fucked right now.’ Your eyes glisten, thighs and core clenching. Dick spits into your mouth and you swallow immediately. He laughs. Ah, you slutty whore. That’s what you wanted?’

You tried to move but your body wouldn’t listen, secretly you know you miss him too, as much as he does, but you couldn’t let yourself break that easily, ‘I’m not the one who was horny for almost a week, dumbass.’

‘And whose fault is that mhm?’ With no time for reaction he made you kneel down, falling with a small ‘tmmph’ ‘It’s my turn to have fun while watching you cry, don’t you think? This may also be a punishment for the crime you just did.’ His head slightly turned to the right, looking if someone else was in this dark alley, but everyone seemed as busy as the two of you, focusing on their own thing. The siren alarms quieting down all the chat the both of you have.

‘Ah, the siren alarms, I don’t see anything you stole, was this all Harley’s plan?’ You tried to answer and tell him to fuck off, but you heard him unzipping his suit, your mind fighting with your body to move away from him, but oh shit. You won’t lie you’ve been fingering yourself these last days in the shower thinking of his cock. Half of his body suit rested on his hips, showing his chest, some hickeys still a little bit visible on his chest, the same as red marks of your nails digging on him. ‘You like what you see? Makes me remember the day I fucking had you in my hands again. And ever since I got a taste of you again, you don’t know how stupid I felt to leave you.’

Your doe eyes looked at him, searching for any kind of lie, but all you could see was lust and sincere feelings for you. ‘Ah, but here’s the thing, you can’t touch me. Maybe you’ll miss my touch as much as I do for yours.’ Everything was happening so fast you didn’t realize him kneeling down and handcuffing your hands before he stood up again. ‘That's better.’ His hand caressed your cheek before the nice and warm touch turned into a slap.

‘I shouldn’t treat you like the love of my life, right? You just committed a crime, baby, you need to be punished by your actions.’ He didn’t seem angry, he seemed full of lust and excited to have you again.

‘Oh, but this doesn’t mean we’re okay, we still need to talk it out. Right now it’s Nightwing giving his favorite criminal a punishment.’  You looked down at his crotch, a visible bulge had you closing your legs trying to get some friction out of it. He slowly made his suit get lower so his cock could finally be free, sprinting up so it touched his stomach, a pearl of cum coming out of it, sliding down until his base.

‘Open up and say ah…’ You did as he said, feeling completely defenseless and not in control like the other time, knowing you fell for him and his tactic again. He grabbed you by your hair and then he inserted his cock inside of you, winning a groan out of his mouth before he started thrusting in and out. Your mouth couldn’t get all of it, but you couldn’t use your hands to satisfy the missing parts of his cock, he wouldn’t let you. You tried moving your hands, which made his movements stop, staying inside of you. ‘Ah-ah, do not touch, If you still love me, you know you have to watch first and maybe I'll let you.’

You stopped fighting for his touch and gave into him, he moaned when you relaxed your throat and took him all in. He wouldn’t give you a break and thrust shamelessly into you, making you leave choked moans out of you, tears forming around your eyes making your vision blurry. ‘That’s it, you fucking criminal whore. These are the punishments you want right?’

You tried nodding, but he only chuckled at your try. He thrusted some times more before he finally came in your mouth with a moan that sounded almost like a whimper. Like the old times you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, ‘Good girl.’ Then you swallowed.

‘I’ll see you at the tower.’ He started getting his suit on again, and with just a wink he left.

How the fuck are you supposed to get off this handcuffs?

When you came back to the tower with a sore throat and normal clothes, as soon as you entered the tower you saw Kory waiting for you in her cocky posture and a smirk adorning her face. ‘How was your night sneaky friend?’

You rolled your eyes trying to ignore her, hopefully she’s the only one who knows besides Dick, but she wouldn’t let you go so easily, so she grabbed you by the wrist stopping you from leaving. ‘Fuck off Kory.’

‘I’m not the one betraying everyone here dumbass.’

‘Go and fuck Dick or something,' Ironic isn't it?, since you're the one fucking him. 'don’t you want that? Maybe he could take this anger out of you and leave me the fuck alone.’

‘I don’t want to fuck him, i’m trying to keep my friends safe.’

‘Safe by being with them like a fucking tick? As if.’ You said those words with venom coming out of your mouth, never breaking eye contact with her.

‘That’s how things are going to be huh? Jealous, I'm spending more time with your ex than you?’ You felt your wrist getting warmer, trying to get off you whining at the hot sensation of her using her powers. ‘Let go Kory.’

‘Or what? You’re going to whine about this to your little friend Joker?’ 

‘Might as well ask him to fucking kill you.’ You said, kicking her on the stomach so she could let go, looking at your arm you could see a small burn, nothing too serious.

You hissed, touching the affected area, looking back at Kory, who stood there with a confused face, looking back, you saw Dick standing there, a black t-shirt hugging his chest and biceps just right, and some gray sweatpants. 

‘What the fuck Dick? Isn’t she supposed to be beaten out or something? She’s a fucking villian!’

You smirked at her assumption, side-eyeing her back and then looking back at Dick. ‘Let’s say she’s a good fighter…’ He shrugged it off while getting closer to the both of you, looking at your injured arm, he looked back at Kory. ‘Let’s get you healed up.’ Dick grabbed you by the hand leading you to the nursery.

‘Are you being for real Dick? You’re still letting her in the house after knowing who she truly is?’ Her voice seemed more distant every step you took, you were getting giddy with all that was happening that you didn’t even realize you were sitting on a chair, Dick kneeled down looking for some medicines. Your arm already bandaged.

'...'

‘So… How did you become a villain?’ He asked, testing the waters. ‘I dunno, guess it just happened with no explanations.’ He took the hint at what you were referring to, deciding to just sigh. ‘I was stupid okay? Not being Robin gave me a kind of breakdown trying to decipher who I was, I fucked up. I dissolved the titans because of that, and the worst thing of all is that I lost you.’ You thought there was a nice future without him, not letting him crumble your world, but hearing his breaking voice while telling you this, made you rethink everything.

Dick isn’t good at expressing his emotions, so him trying really meant he was serious with this, ‘I couldn’t imagine myself with other girls, because the fantasy of you shatters my heart, I’ll always be by your side, I promise, please forgive me.’

You shakily sighed at his confession, remembering the first time he told you ‘I love you’ you had your emotions just in control before all of this, but now you realize the both of you are below the same sky and you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around him again. All you could hear in the room were sobs coming out of the both of you. Old lovers reuniting again, but the tension in the air was still visible, not forgetting what happened earlier this night.

‘Can I keep being a villain so you could just fuck me everytime I commit a crime?’ He chuckled at this, making him stop crying, and looking at you, ‘Maybe I should lock you up, and give those punishments for free, I don’t need you causing problems out there.’

You made a gesture like you were thinking about it, ‘Mmh, that doesn’t sound too bad, but I’ll miss Harley so that’s a no.’ He rolled his eyes, ‘I can lock her up too.’ he said, grabbing both of your hands. ‘And punish her too? I don’t think the Joker nor me would be happy with that.’

He laughed, how much you missed his laugh. ‘Obviously no. She would be locked up serving her sentence or something.’ The both of you looked at eachother, missing the comfortable silence, until a question came to mind. ‘And Kory?’

‘What about her?’

‘She’ll tell everyone.’

A small oh left his lips, looking at the floor then bringing his eyes back to yours. ‘I’ll talk with her.'

'...'

'....'

‘Do you… uh… like her?’

‘Would I be here waiting for you to give me a chance to kiss you again if I liked her?’ Unable to control yourself, you crashed your lips onto his, and he responded immediately. He grabbed you by your legs, immediately wrapping them around his waist, he somehow opened up the door and led the both of you to his room. Lips never breaking apart.

Without breaking the kiss, you pushed him onto his back, laying flat on the bed and  straddling his lap. Dick smirked at your actions and you leaned down, reconnecting your lips. You involuntarily grinded onto his growing bulge, causing him to groan in pleasure. You could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds while you moved on him. Without breaking the heated kiss, Dick sat up, pulling you along with him, so that his back was resting against the headboard of your bed and you were still straddling him. He broke the kiss to trail open mouth kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more access.

‘Can I touch you?’ he mumbled against your skin, giving it a little nibble.

‘Yes, please…’

Dick’s hands moved up your body to your breasts. He gently massaged your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He flicked it with his tongue, giving it a little swirl before repeating the same action for the other one.

‘You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this to you again,’ he said, lips meeting yours in a quick kiss before he changed positions, hovering above you. ‘Every time the both of us were alone, I had to control myself so much from wanting to kiss you… to touch you…’ his hand moved down to your thighs, giving it a squeeze before he teased your inner thighs. He slowly moved his hand to cup your clothed heat, making you whimper.

‘‘Fuck, please touch me,’ you begged.

Dick slowly took your panties off, mouth watering at the sight of your glistening core. His fingers moved to your clit, gently stroking your sensitive nub. You grabbed his hand once your clit became too over sensitive again, stopping him from touching you.

“I… it’s very sensitive from what we did earlier before…’ Dick kissed your neck while his fingers explored the area around your entrance, avoiding your sensitive clit; he didn’t want to just shove his fingers up immediately. ‘Just relax, baby,’ he murmured against your skin, and your tense body relaxed a bit. He ran his finger along your wet folds, collecting your juices. He took his time, teasing you around that area, trying to get you wetter.

When you felt wetter, he moved his body to rest in between your legs. He slowly slipped a finger into your hole. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked. You shook your head and he continued pushing his finger all the way in. You winced at the slight sting you felt when he pulled his finger back a little. ‘Are you okay? Does it hurt, baby?’ 

‘No, it feels so good.’ you said, your hands moving to his messy black hair.

He tapped around your walls, searching for your g-spot. You sucked in a breath when he found your spot, clutching a fistful of his hair. “Found it,” he smirked, continuing to finger you, making sure to hit that very spot. ‘D-Dick…’ you moaned, your walls clenching around his finger. He kissed and gently sucked on the skin of your inner thighs while he fingered you. You could feel something building up in your lower stomach, and you assumed you were close to orgasming. ‘Dick… I think I’m-’ 

‘Let it go,’ he pumped his fingers faster, making your back arch. ‘Cum for me, baby.’ His words and a few more pumps was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you, making you loudly moan his name. He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your taste. ‘So fucking sweet. I fucking missed you.’

He leaned down for a kiss, which you gratefully accepted, taking off his shirt and pants, his cock was as hard as before, searching for attention. He then inserted his cock, pushing through your gummy walls, making you moan at the feeling. He slowly started thrusting, making sure to keep the stimulation from your previous orgasm, the both of you were so focused on the other that you didn’t hear the knocks on the door until the second time.

‘Dick! Are you there?’ Fuck. It was Kory. ‘The door is locked.’ The both of you heard another voice, it sounded a lot like Rachel’s. ‘Dick! We can’t find Y/N’ Shit. Gar is also there?

‘We need to find her before she causes something big.’ Rachel said, knocking on his door again. The both of you looked at eachother with wide eyes, before he shut you up with his hand  on your mouth, keeping you from making any sound, but he continued thrusting, finding a rhythms which touched your g-spot just perfectly. You moaned, earning a look from him, ‘Uh- I haven’t seen her anywhere.’

‘C’mon Dick, you took her to the nursery.’ Kory said from the other side of the door, ‘But- I ha- ah! haven-t seen her since..’ You clenched his cock, catching him by surprise, making his voice break and whimper, his hand reaching your nipple pinching on it, giving him an angry look, you clenched your hole earning a moan out of him, making you giggle. ‘Are you okay Dick?’ Gar asked.

‘U-uh, yeah, just putting on my suit for, mmh~ go and search for her, y’all should do the same.’ You couldn’t quite hear the voices coming from the other side, too giddy feeling the way Dick’s cock moves inside of you.

‘Okay… we’ll see you in 10.’ That was the last thing the both of you heard, before making sure they left.

‘You heard that princess? We only have 10 minutes before we go searching for you. Guess I couldn’t- Ah!’ A specific thrust made the both of you feel an electric shock, ‘I couldn’t stop Kory from telling the other, ha…’

He started thrusting harder and faster this time, knowing he was searching for his high, you were quite close to it. His hand traveled down your body until it found your clit and started rubbing it. Making you almost scream if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth. Not even 30 seconds passed and you saw stars, your vision becoming white thanks to the overstimulation and him not stopping so you could take a break from your high. Actually motivating him to thrust faster to search for his.

Tears formed again into your eyes, staining your cheeks, his other arm over your head holding himself up while he thrusts into you. He leaned down and licked the tears out your face,  before uncovering your mouth, taking a big breath before breaking down into a moaning mess, he thrusted into you harder, cock deep down inside of you, shaking while stripes of cum filled you up.

All you could hear were whimpers coming out of him, until he finally calmed down and tools his cock out, making the both of you hiss at the feeling. He laid down beside you, audibly breaths coming out of the both of you, looking up at the roof.

He grabbed down the blankets and covered the both of you, him being the big spoon and you the small one.

‘What about the others?’

‘If we don’t answer they’ll think I went alone and also go search for me’ He chuckled, hugging you even closer. ‘Here I am right now, and tomorrow when you wake up. By your side. I’m sure we’ll find an agreement with the others, since you didn’t commit the crimes like that, just an accomplice, maybe you could become a hero again.’

You scoffed at that, ‘We’ll see about that Dickie.’

[coralinnii]

Leaving a kiss mark on him…and how long did it take for him to realize  feat: Kalim · Cater · Idia · Rook  genre: fluff note: not gender-specific reader (everyone is allowed to wear lipstick), no pronouns, established relationships,

Me: I have to study, I have mountains of assignments and projects to do! *hides in tumblr to avoid study anxiety* can I just fail my classes and say I tried? T_T

I'm starting to enjoy Rook mostly cuz I can go ham with the romantic words or as Idia would probably call it "cringe worthy crap"

Until recess, when Jamil points it out

This ball of sunshine is too  giddy in your presence to notice anything. How do you expect him to pay attention to anything when you’re laughing and chatting with him before the start of class. The two of you parted ways with Kalim having a big grin on his face, never realizing you left an obvious imprint on your love on his cheek. 

Kalim would never think that the loud chattering in the hallways were about him, ignorant of the stares of the other students as he waves to them happily. Some whispered how embarrassing it must be if he ever finds out, some muttered what a lucky b*stard he was. 

Said lucky b*stard stayed oblivious even in class as no one felt the need to risk being called out in class by informing the white-haired Housewarden. Trein of course saw the mark on the boy but kept silent over it, deciding to let young love be. 

The kiss mark was finally brought to Kalim’s attention when he met with Jamil in the cafeteria, the vice Housewarden shocked by the image but soon replaced with an exasperated sigh. Jamil pulled out a compact mirror (I’m 110% sure Jamil is the type to carry one) and pointed to the Asim heir’s cheek.

Kalim was ecstatic at what he saw and why wouldn’t he? His beautiful treasure just left a cute reminder on his cheek and just seeing the mark makes him remember your kiss which makes him giddy once more. 

Jamil had to practically fight Kalim to wipe the kiss mark off his face. He can’t let the Asim family find out their oldest son was walking around with such an embarrassing appearance. 

But Jamil isn’t gonna have a break from this as Kalim would just run back to you and ask you to leave your mark on him once more. 

“Come on, do it again! Please~? It doesn’t have to be on my cheek this time!”

As soon as he check his reflection in his phone

The extrovert he is, Cater is not going to say no to some PDA. His Magicam has been filling up with cute pictures of you two, whether it’d be on your dates or a quick selfie before class. 

For this selfie, you decided to land a smooch on your boyfriend’s cheek as he takes his daily selfie pic. Once Cater was done posting the uber cute memory with you, the two of you split from each other towards your respective classes. 

Despite his itchy hands, Cater knows better than to mess with his phone during lessons. Unlike Kalim however, he definitely picked up the weird looks sent his way and the whispers behind his back. His ability to read the room hints to him that the whispering wasn't of malice intent or anything negative but he knows it pertains to him. 

Once the bell rang, the redhead immediately picked up his phone and caught something in the reflection of the darkened screen. Was there something on his face? 

Opening his camera app, he finally saw the hot topic in the classroom, the cheeky little mark you left on him. 

You would think the easygoing student would laugh over the cute gesture, maybe tease you later on your bold expression of love. You’d be partially right. 

You caught him by surprise. His face will be dusted with a reddish hue as he inspects a mark on his face in addition to his diamond mark. He had to cover the lower half of his face with his hand to hide the goofy smile blooming on his lips. A genuine, not Magicam perfect smile. This is beyond cute, it’s downright adorable in all the best ways with messy lipstick smudges and all. 

But yes, he will absolutely tease you about this little souvenir you left him. He even sent a new selfie on Magicam showing off your handiwork and tagging you right on the mark. He was just lucky Riddle didn’t catch him with your mark on him. 

“Aren’t me and my bae just #couplegoals? Hope you ain’t jelly~” 

Would have never noticed if not for Ortho 

Idia would never allow PDA, nope never. He isn’t the type of guy that wants to show off his relationship. It’s not that he’s embarrassed by you, of course not! But he’s more of a lowkey guy that rather show his love in the comforts of his or your room. 

Which was why he was happy to receive a loving kiss from you before you leave his room to head to your classes. But Idia was gonna send his tablet off as usual while he laid back in the safety of his room. 

As stated, this man would have gone the whole day without realizing what you did. He gets into the zone once he starts his gaming session. He is also not the type to really check himself in the mirror if he goes to the bathroom, only doing the bare minimum in there and then going right back to his video games. 

It wasn’t until Ortho came by to check up on his brother did he finally take notice of his appearance. 

“Brother, what’s that on your cheek?” 

Confused, Idia reached for his phone and opened the rarely used camera app on his phone (only used for you and cats) and shrieked when he saw your little present clear as day on his pale face. 

How could you do this to him? How could you do something this embarrassing to this weak man?? It was a damn good thing he didn’t leave his room or he could never leave this down. What if someone other than Ortho showed up at his door, like one of his dormmates? 

He quickly commanded his tablet to locate you, bringing you to a secluded place then screaming at you for your sneaky trick. His throat hurting from the amount of talking and yelling he has done, more than he has in a while

But when you asked him if he really didn’t like it, Idia turned quiet real quick. You can’t just corner him with a kill shot question like that. 

Seriously, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, you just can’t just do things like that out of the blue! H-huh, you’re asking when can you do it, then?!”

The moment you did it

You think Rook wouldn’t notice? The man who not only has amazing senses but also the right hand man to Vil who has taught him the skills of makeup application? One look at your lips (and of course, he has looked) and he can tell if the product is smudge-proof or not.

The moment your lips graced his cheek, he could feel the residue of your lipstick left on his sensitive skin. Judging by the smile on your face, he knew you were intentional with your marking and was proud of it. 

What a trickster you are, was this your way of marking your man? Making sure everyone is aware that the vice Housewarden is spoken for? How beautifully devilish of you. 

Before you could escape, Rook captured you in his arms with a coy smile on his face. 

“My dear Trickster, how sneaky of you to try to leave your lovely mark on me. But, I've noticed you weren’t wearing smudge-proof lipstick today. You would have to do better than that~” 

You pouted, hoping you could at least be out of your hunter’s line of sight before he called you out. Leave it to him to notice the most minuscule of things, you suppose.

“You didn’t try to stop me, though?” you questioned suspiciously, your so-called keen boyfriend letting you attack him so easily. 

He simply responded to you with a bright smile on his face, “How could I ever deny my beautiful beloved? For you, I surrender myself to your whims of love for I am but a weak prey ensnared by your beauty” 

You left more kiss marks on this crazy poet of a man 

“To be graced with your lips, a show of loving passion bestowed only to me…I am a helpless fool to my lover”

[moghedien]

Actually obsessed with the whole dynamic Minthara has with the tadpole mind melding powers. Because while I believe almost every other companion with a tadpole does use the powers to sort of communicate/share thoughts with the PC at some point, and even to share personal information, it feels different with Minthara

For one thing, while all (except Gale for some reason) of the tadpoled origin characters sorta mind meld with you upon meeting, it isn’t intentional with them. You’re all doing that on accident. But the first thing Minthara does upon meeting you is intentionally grab your mind and pry into it. She 100% knows she’s doing it and means to do it and the way it’s described is almost sensual

Like it’s jarring and firm, but not worded as being rough or aggressive. She caresses your mind.

But you also have to keep in mind that she is under mind control at this moment and while her decisions aren’t her own to a significant degree, her desires to reach into other people’s minds and look inside seems to be a largely Minthara thing. Other true souls do it but generally only to identify you and they’re content after learning you’re a true soul. Minthara wants to see what’s going on in your head, to an extent maybe only Z’rell does, though even with Z’rell it’s more sadism on wanting to see the goblins suffer and testing your loyalty (notably after she’s just had to sentence a high ranking true soul to death for failing under her watch so loyalty is a concern atm).

And the really interesting thing here is that Minthara is the only one (at this moment because you don’t have Minsc yet) that has a real and genuine trauma around the tadpole controlling her mind. All of the origin characters were being protected from the absolute’s control pretty much from the start. Minthara wasn’t, and she was tadpoled in an intentionally violent and horrifying way by Orin, and only after Orin made her suffer while in possession of her own mind. Orin tortured her, tadpoles her and made Minthara worship her, and then tortured her some more while Minthara couldn’t do anything but love her. It’s to the point where even all of her hatred of Ketheric stems from the sole fact he handed her over to Orin. Anything else he did, she hardly seems bothered by and even says she respects him. Him being the reason that Orin had her is the one reason she wanted him to die.

After Minthara is free from the absolute’s mind control, she doesn’t really noticeably pry into your mind until the scene where you can start a romance with her, and the dynamic there is what really makes the whole thing interesting to me.

Because she is clearly concerned about your relationship status, because she has to be at a high approval rating to get this scene, meaning SHE likes you. That doesn’t mean that you like her or that you’re trustworthy. She is a Baenre. Her last allegiances were with people that falsely welcomed her in and then tortured her. She isn’t going to accept that anyone is trustworthy.

Not unless she can go in and see that you really truly are.

Which is what really makes this dynamic, because Minthara has THE most trauma around being tadpoled and mind controlled, and yet the only way she can trust someone that she’s started to like is by using said tadpole abilities to look into their mind and seeing what they think about her. Like the tadpoling combined with her upbringing in Menzoberranzan made literally looking inside someone’s mind the only option for her to determine if they’re trustworthy. Which is probably why that was her go-to even when she was under the absolute’s control. Then, being chosen by the absolute was enough for her to accept you, even if you’re a darthiir

And when you get the scene where she wants to look in your kind, it starts with her trying to do so and then pulling back. Almost as if she did it without meaning to. Like she’d been worried if she couldn’t trust you and so her instinct was just to check, but then she realized what she was doing and that it’s wrong to do that so she stops herself. Like she’s definitely grown used to just doing that, but being aware now means she’s aware of that being wrong, even if it’s really really something she needs to see. So she stops herself and explains what’s bothering her and then asks to go in and look at your mind.

And notably, the thing she says she’s having trouble with is her identity, which yeah. She absolutely is having identity issues but that is another post, and I don’t think that’s even really the main reason she’s doing this. Like I said, she has to like you a lot in order to get this scene and what comes from this scene implies that she was trying to pin down your relationship, not her identity.

If you let her in and she sees that you view her positively and not in a way that threatens her, she just comes onto you right there. She very clearly wanted to trust you and if she looks in and sees that you’re not a threat to her, she just goes all in on that. If you don’t immediately see her as a love interest, she does try to talk you into it and expresses the need your absolute trust and whatnot. Like ensuring trust was always her goal there.

But if you basically come onto her first by indicating you see her as a lover, she immediately makes herself even more vulnerable. She does so by just letting you touch her mind after she’s been through the worst fucking mind control, but if you indicate you want her, she just immediately drops whatever guards she still had up and lets you in.

It was absolutely a test of her ability to trust you, not her trying to figure out her identity, at least not her identity outside of her relationship with you.

And once you’ve both peeped inside and determined you aren’t going to hurt each other, like I said she’s much more vulnerable both in her tone and words but also she’s still in your mind

She already admitted her fears to you at this point, but reading her almost hesitance to touch your mind after this is just a whole other level. Because this is after you agree to be with her, and now she’s all of a sudden afraid of touching your mind. Not because she’s afraid of what she’ll see there because she’s already seen it. And idk what I’m even saying here but just the moment when Minthara knows without a doubt that the two of you are something is the moment she shows hesitance with touching her mind. And it wasn’t as if the first time she did it in the goblin camp it was rough. It was notably not rough and described as a caress.

But it’s just all coming together now. Touching your minds is the only way she can feel safe, but it’s also the thing that hurt her the most in the past with others. So now she has safety and she has you and she has permission to be in your mind, and she hesitates, like she’s afraid of doing even the slightest thing to hurt you now.

Because if you’ve gotten this far with her, you are literally the only person what Minthara has ever loved that the love didn’t come with stipulations and violence. And if you realize that, it’s clear why she would so immediately devote herself to the first person she liked who she could be absolutely sure wouldn’t hurt her and why she hesitates now when doing things that even slightly resemble how she was hurt in the past.

[genshin-scenarios]

what flowers they’d give their s/o

Summary: A raffle request from my Adopt a Wanderer preorders! They’re a mix of genshin and HSR, but I’m posting it here as Wanderer’s included! If you'd like to see more HSR content from me, feel free to drop a request at @tiramisu-rambles! 

Characters: Wanderer, Luocha, Jingyuan, Aventurine, Sunday

Content warnings: implications of character death in Luocha’s part.

Adopt a Wanderer: Digital Store

Red String of Fate Prompt List

Wanderer: Anemones

Sincerity, forsaken love, anticipation, protection from evil.

Just like the many versions of himself, anemones are windflowers with various meanings depending on their color. And despite the hurt Wanderer’s been through, his barriers are worn down by your honest intentions; your brightness, moments of quiet connection, and how you’re adored by many.

He’s glad the wind has brought him to you. These flowers may have a delicate appearance, but it’s obvious that neither of you are so fickle.

“They’re a protection from evil, apparently. Something about closing its petals when it rains.” 

“Really? In that case, I have a version of that already with you!”

It’s a bouquet made with multicolored hues, where he hands himself to you. A small thanks for acknowledging his past, and a few blooms that represent anticipation for the future.

It’s been a while since he’s been vulnerable enough to feel nervous about something. But it’s a more positive spin on the emotion, akin to excitement when he knows he’s going to see you — but Wanderer would rather choke than use a word so innocently childish to describe himself.

Due to its wild nature, anemones also symbolize relaxation and a reminder to enjoy the moment. To take in opportunities at the right time, as he’s learned from you.

Luocha: Marigolds

Resurrection, energy, good luck, warmth, prosperity, jealousy.

Luocha sees you in the warmth of the flowers, as powerful as the Sun despite your bubbly outlook. He sees the light, which makes him worry he might taint your smile with his true nature.

You thank him for the flowers, thinking of him as the miracle doctor that’s giving you a gift. He is, but he also hopes you don’t get closer without being aware of what he is.

Marigolds represent despaired love, although this is mostly on Luocha’s part as he constantly sidelines himself, making himself a ‘side character’ rather than a potential partner for you. But he’s too selfish to completely step out of your life, accepting your invitations to lunch and walks along the harbor. He says the world feels peaceful around you. It’s true.

These flowers are often associated with life and death. In this case, it’s Luocha’s silent promise to always protect you, even if you might not want it yourself. 

And if there comes a day where he has to pick between saving one or another… He’ll make sure you get out alive. Perhaps he’ll even save the bystanders around so you’ll keep calling him a wonderful doctor, before his powers fail to heal his own wounds.

Jingyuan: Forget Me Nots

Clinging to the past, faithfulness, remembrance, true love, fidelity.

‘I’ll keep you in my thoughts,’ they say. A warm sentiment from the General, and behind them the memories of all he’s gained and lost in the past.

Jingyuan is used to being alone. He’s a leader after all, who wears the air of one without a care in the world. He’s capable and busy, but what he says as a teasing remark contains words that can be read very differently.

‘Don’t forget me.’

Forget me nots also symbolize links to the past. For a long-life species, it’s easy to feel the days melt together, and beautiful sights aren’t as vivid anymore.

That’s why Jingyuan thanks you for letting him remember — remember what it’s like to be surprised again, to see the sky and find it breathtaking, along with your voice in the wind. He wants to remember all of this as long as he can, so he gives you these flowers on occasion to remind himself.

“Do you miss me that much, General?” 

“Of course. There isn’t enough time in the world to spend with you.”

He starts to appreciate his lifespan again, for having the chance to run into you along the way.

Aventurine: Daffodils 

Honesty, truth, forgiveness, appreciation. 

Despite the amount of lying and masks he wears, Aventurine knows there is truth in the anxiety he feels around you. The same feeling before a risky gamble, where he hopes his bluffs will deceive his opponent.

…He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever looked at him with disappointment. If he somehow managed to fool you into expecting something he cannot give; heart ringing hollow, echoing deeper and deeper in resonance every time you interact.

Perhaps one day this hollow ringing will actually turn into a heartbeat, and he can finally face you as Kakavasha. (Put aside the fact that despite his persona, Aventurine is still facing the world with honesty in every act).

He also chooses Daffodils because, in his attempt at excusing these sentiments, he simply thinks of you as his source of honesty and truth. A Sun that the flowers lean toward, after blooming each spring despite the desolate, cutthroat winter.

‘Please forgive me. Please don’t look away.’

Daffodils also symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, and good luck. Perhaps you can draw this out of Aventurine, who’s been on guard against the world for as long as he can remember?

Be the sunlight that sifts through the window, greeting him every day; a good-luck charm he continues to believe in.

Sunday: Violets 

Peace, devotion, healing. 

You bring him peace. With every smile you direct at Sunday, he feels hope that the world around him can be rebuilt. ‘You heal me,’ the flowers say. And despite how candied flowers dry bitterly on the tongue…

‘After all this is over, I’ll devote myself to you.’

He can’t be sure if you believe him, but Sunday has long disposed of the idea of predicting you. ‘It makes you human’, his sister once said.

Violets are reminders of loyalty, thoughtfulness, and dependability. Sunday looks out for you at every corner, even if his presence isn’t tangible. He notices your little victories and joys, feeling his heart twinge from the distance. And when your days are bleak, just know there is another soul mourning with you, playing a song to soothe your sorrows.

He’s devoted to you long before the drama of politics are done. In a sense, one can almost say he’s too caring — from a glance it appears he’s not bothered with you, and watch for a minute longer, the small, irrelevant commands given to his subordinates ring clear with thoughts of you.

Sunday doesn’t put a spotlight on his love, yet showers it with the adoration of the moon. Quiet, graceful, and just a bit selfish.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7B

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. Jus sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: took a page from @whytheylosttheirminds with separating the part into 2. Because it’s a bit of writing. About 3k words each. I wanted to finish this off before S4 P2 begins so it’s finishing this is the last part until it airs.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, bit of angst, smut (oral m receiving, chest riding, p in v riding) death, Luke Maybank

“Can we please talk?”

You give it a second but you can see the desperation in his eyes, “okay, talk.”

He runs a hand through his buzz cut, eyes heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. I do want to be better. I’m the man of the Cameron family now, and what am I supposed to do when all the women in my life hate me? Fear me? It eats at me. I should’ve stood up for Kie, set an example that Ruthie and Topper’s bullshit isn’t acceptable anymore, never was, I don’t care about that reputation anymore, not like I used to. When I look at V, all I want is to be better. I have no excuse.

He watches you, searching for a sign that you’re listening. You offer him nothing, forcing him to keep talking. “I took you for granted for so long. Used you, kept you a secret because I was scared of what people would think, all because of stupid titles. I knew Topper and Kelce wouldn’t say anything but that’s always what they’d use to try to piss me off when we’d be messing with each other. You always meant something to me and I constantly pushed you away. I hurt you more times than I can count, some of the times worse than others.”

Painful memories flash between you—He’s talking about the time he handcuffed you to his bed during his downward spiral after killing Peterkin, dragging you with him to Barry’s when he needed to hide out, putting you in the middle of gunfire with the police when he got caught. Drugging you alongside Sarah and bringing you on that ship then standing idle why he watched his dad strangle you until you were blue when you got smart with him about murdering Big John. All because he didn’t want to be alone.

“You came to me for protection from your father, and I failed you. You tried to help me, and I pushed you away. But all I want now is to see you happy. You shouldn’t have even forgiven me.”

Tears slip down your face as you reach out, cupping his cheek. “I told you what I thought your problem was, and I was right. You’ve grown without your father’s shadow. Even before I came back, you’d changed. You are the man of the Cameron family now, and you can be the kind of man your father never was. I need you to be all in, Rafe. No more half-measures. V needs you. I need to know we can count on you. Only then can we move forward.”

You grab the sea turtle V left on the bed this morning, unintentionally but great for the point you’re trying to make. “Because what if she was there, what if she could understand all that happened.” You toss it to him. “Think about her Rafe.”

“I promise,” he says, voice cracking. “Forever and always.”

A bittersweet smile spreads across your face. The words that once comforted you in your darkest moments return, anchoring you both.

I’ll protect you, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll be here for you when you need me, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll kick his ass for you, I promise, forever and always.

“I love you, Rafe, and that’s never changing.” You kneel closer, wrapping him in a hug.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice resolute. “Forever and always.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You look at him, and he smirks. You kiss him on the lips, then his jaw, then his neck. He coos at the feeling. You sit up and pull off your tank top, laying back down. You stare into his eyes intently as you play with the waistline of your shorts. He goes to reach out for you, but you smack his hand away.

“Uh uh, take your clothes off.” “Yes, mam.” He stands up and rids himself of his own pajamas, now standing completely bare in front of you. “Lay.”

He does exactly as you say. You straddle his legs, running a finger down his length to tease him. Kneeling your upper body down, arch your ass into the air, and he smiles down at you. You grab him in your hand, running your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum. You drop a glob of spit down onto him. You lower your head onto him, beginning to bob up and down. He thrusts up into you at the sensation, and you remove your mouth from him.

“Uh uh, I’m in charge tonight, baby.”

He nods his head and throws his hands up in a mock surrender. You begin bobbing again, taking as much of him as you can, gagging on his huge length but taking him nonetheless. You run your hand that's not pumping him up and down his torso, scratching your nails on the way down. You hear his series of grunts and moans and feel the way he'd tense up trying to refrain from thrusting up.

He was getting close, and you could tell by the way he'd twitch in your throat. When his breathing started to hitch, you let him go and watched for his reaction. As he realizes his orgasm was lost, he opens his eyes to see you kneeling in front of him with a big smirk.

“Not fun being treated like shit, right?” You laugh, and he rolls his eyes but eventually laughs quietly. He goes to sit up, and you push him back into the pillow. You want to tease him as much as you can. You made up, but it's nice to give him a little taste of his own medicine.

You start making your way up him, taking a seat right below his chin. You push down into him and moan. You begin to ride his chest. Rafe always loved to eat you out, and you know having him this close to your pussy drives him crazy.

“Let me taste you.” Gripping his head, moving it up closer to your clit. “Tongue out.” He lays his tongue out flat, and you move a little closer to also ride his tongue. Using him like this feels so good since you'd usually let him take control.

Your movements quicken, digging your nails into the back of his head, and you crane his neck. You're getting close, and you don't plan on slowing down. You hold yourself up on the headboard, and your body twitches. Rafe moans into your clit, and your head throws back. You shake as you come, arousal sticking to his chest. You lift up a bit to his mouth, and he cleans up what's left.

You move back down to his waist. Licking the palm of your hand and reaching back to stroke him. His body jolts at the feelings. You line yourself up with him and sink down onto him. Your nails dig into his chest at the stretching. No matter how many times you do this, the feeling always has you shocked.

You settle on him for a second before you lift up and throw yourself back down onto him. Your pace is immediately quick. You bounce like there's no tomorrow. Taking control of him like this is so rewarding. The feeling is amazing, but you need more stimulation. You begin to grind, feeling his pelvic bone rub against you has seeing stars.

“Can I touch?” You nod, and Rafe's hands roam your body. You're driving him crazy tonight, but his touch is soft. Taking every inch of you in. You're an angel sent from heaven to him. You're both close, and you're getting tired. Rafe grabs your hips and keeps you moving. You lean down and begin to kiss him.

“Love you, baby doll. Forever and always.” You lean your forehead on his as you continue your movements. “Fuck, Rafe. I love you more. Forever and always.” You cry out with a high-pitched moan as you release your orgasm. Rafe follows right behind you, gripping your waist hard and letting out a bunch of grunts.

You lift off of Rafe but stay on top of him. You shift down a little, enough to be able to lay your head on his chest. Following the rise and fall of his heavy breaths and listen to his heart race, while he holds you tightly, leaving kisses on the top of your head. You could lay like that forever.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The next morning you and Rafe wake up still tangled up with one another. He’s dressed and doesn’t smell like sweat and sex anymore, which means he left at some point. It angers you a bit but you chose to let it go for now. You take a shower and come out of the bathroom to see Rafe flying V around the room like Superman. You’re downstairs having breakfast, really just talking to V trying to make her laugh. That fell into a bit of a silence.

“I took the deal.”

“What?”

“Last night, I took the deal. That’s why I was dressed. I know you noticed but didn’t say anything.”

Taken aback just a bit. You were still very nervous of what Hollis’s intentions were. But you said you’d be supportive no matter what. “Ok, so now what?”

“She sent the info to the investors. The deposit should come out at some point today. And now I’m in contract with them.”

“Did you read the fine print about murder if this thing goes wrong?”

He laughs at the outrageous statements and goes to reach for your hand. “Yes, I read the whole thing, no there isn’t anything about murder. Not sure it’s something they’d want in paper.”

You smile and grip his hand a little harder. You go to say something but he cuts you off, “after yesterday, after our talk, after last night (he winks and you giggle), I thought this was the best step for US.” I want to be taken seriously, I want to be a strong father for V. Then I saw a photo of me and Sarah and I thought about the things I did to her. How she hates my guts, how she looked at me yesterday. I can’t be that person anymore. I’m gonna do the right thing and this is a stepping stone in that. This is for our family. I know you always hated that I’d tried to treat you with gifts and money, but you’re stuck with me and what’s mine is yours. So get used to it.” He takes a deep breath and smiles at you.

You release his hand and walk to the other side of the table to sit on his lap. “Ok Rafe Cameron. I told you I’d be there with you the whole way. Anything you need I’ll help you. I’m not going anywhere this time.” You give him a big kiss on the cheek when your phone starts to vibrate.

You reach over and pick it up and JJ is yelling in the other side. “JJ calm down!”

“Sis I need you here right now. I’m alone and got this letter and I’m freaking out.”

“Okay, OKAY, I’ll come.” You hang up and turn back to Rafe. “Do you think you’d be ok for a few when I go handle something for my brother?

“I mean sure but I thought we’d celebrate.”

“Ok first rule of the “be a better man” journey is to know that when a sibling calls in distress saying they need you. They probably need you. That would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”

Rafe looks at you with a blank stare. “Ok- go then. I’ve got V.” You’re shocked at the reaction. Not being able to tell if he was mad at it or not was difficult. You didn’t mean to throw in a little jab about the past. It’s just a good lesson for him to learn.

You lean down to give him a kiss. “I love you.” Looking deeply into his eyes. “Forever and always.” He returns back.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Meeting JJ at your old house feels strange. He’s standing in the living room, staring at a piece of paper and rubbing his head. He hadn’t explained anything on the phone, which left you uneasy, but seeing his disheveled state makes your anxiety spike.

“J? What’s going on? Where is everyone?” you ask, voice tight with worry.

“They’re out on the boat, taking care of Terrance’s body,” he mutters, barely looking up.

“Terrance? As in Cleo’s Terrance? What happened?”

JJ sighs, exhaustion lining his face. “Cleo got kidnapped. Terrance was involved but didn’t know who the target was. He tried to save her, and it got him killed. I’ll fill you in later, but I need you to read this.”

He hands you the letter. The first line catches your eye: “Master JJ Maybank. Don’t let that go to your head.” You laugh nervously, but JJ doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Genrette’s groundskeeper brought this to me,” he explains. “Said Genrette left it for me.”

The words on the letter blur as you try to piece together its meaning. “I think we need to find dad,” JJ say, your eyes dart back to him.

“Absolutely not. I’m not seeing him,” you snap.

“Good thing it’s not about you,” he counters. “He’s the only one who might have answers to whatever this is.”

JJ’s expression softens, and he nods reluctantly. “You’re right. Sorry. Any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.”

Minutes later, you’re on JJ’s boat, slicing through the water toward Barracuda Mike’s house. When you arrive, Mike is in his yard fidgeting with a go kart, watching the approaching storm clouds.

“Hey, Big B, you know there’s a storm coming, right?” JJ calls out.

“Yeah, I see it,” Mike responds.

You hang back as JJ pleads with Mike for information on your dad’s whereabouts. Moments later, Mike sighs and mutters, “I’ll call you if Luke gets in touch.” Sending you both off to the dock.

JJ sets the phone on speaker as it rings. Luke’s familiar voice comes through, cautious and calculating, until he hears Mike’s dog bark in the background. Realization hits him too late.

“We gotta move,” JJ says, eyes wide. You both sprint back to the house and bang on the door. Mike steps out, irritation creasing his brow.

“Mike, I’ve got a daughter to get home to. Don’t waste my time with this bullshit,” you says, voice cracking under the strain.

“I’m a grandpa, huh?” Luke’s voice drips with smugness as he steps out, a twisted smile on his face. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Actually, you’re not,” you retort coldly. “She’ll never know you exist.”

Luke’s smirk falters, replaced by a fleeting shadow of disappointment. “That’s no way to talk to your old man,” he says, trying and failing to sound fatherly.

JJ shifts protectively in front of you, confronting Luke about his sudden reappearance and silence. You take a step back to the dock, needing space to process. Pulling out your phone, you FaceTime Rafe and V for a distraction. Rafe’s face lights up with a grin.

“Hey, when are you coming back? I’ve got something to tell you,” he says.

Before you can respond, the sound of sirens fills the air, and you see JJ and Luke sprinting toward the boat.

“Shit,” you mutter, forgetting you’re still on the call. “I gotta go. Bye, V. Rafe, I’ll call you later.”

JJ jumps in the boat with Luke behind him. “Take me home on the way,” you tell JJ firmly as you climb aboard.

Luke glances at you. “So, you’re a mom?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply flatly, not sparing him a look. “And don’t ask anything about her. You don’t deserve to know her.”

“It’s with that Cameron kid, isn’t it?” Luke chuckles, as if confirming a suspicion. “I always thought that’d happen—the way he used to sneak in and out of your window. And I knew that’s where you’d be when you disappeared. Good for you, little miss new Kook.”

You clench your jaw, holding back a response. As the boat nears your house, you quickly text Rafe: Home. Meet me at the dock.

When you hop off the boat, you wave to JJ as he drives him and Luke off. Rafe and V are already walking down to meet you. You pull them into a tight hug.

“So, what’s up?” you ask, sensing the weight in Rafe’s eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about everything,” Rafe begins. “I’m really sorry for all the shit at the beach. Pogue this, Pogue that. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, tilting your head at him.

“I know,” he continues, “but I need to know we’re good. My dad was a Pogue; that shit doesn’t matter. What matters is I wanna be like him, hardworking and keeping this family together. I want to build things, be better, in my own way. I’m going to patch things up with my sister, and I want you there with me. When the deal with Hollis goes through, I’m keeping a piece for us. For the three of us.”

The thought of the deal makes you pause, the uncertainty gnawing at you. Rafe notices and takes your hand. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work—you and me. I promise.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With that reassurance, the three of you head inside, ready to face whatever comes next.

TBC

Taglist:

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505

@dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative

@writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[sunshinescribes]

Hi! Can I request how law would react if his partner calls him baby or babe (any pet names) by accident in front of everyone? The crew doesn’t really know but they got a feeling they’re dating

Baby

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader

Warning: Established Relationship, Heart Pirates shenanigans, Soft Law, Reader is stupid in love with Law (as we all are)

You swear you can hear color and see sound…or at least you feel like you can.

Pulling an all-nighter working on internal ship repairs seemed like such a good idea in theory. It felt like pure genius on your part, being able to avoid the headache of having to work around your unruly crewmates—or worse, having to stop completely.

You love them, you really do, but your fellow Heart Pirates are a rowdy bunch. You don’t entirely blame them, though. It’s difficult being stuck in the ocean’s depths for days on end, missing the blinding sun and salty sea air—you hunger for it just as much as anyone, but when denied, you’d at least like to make certain that the Polar Tang is able to get you all to your next destination in one piece.

All your hard work and good intentions, and yet you had failed to consider one pivotal component: how long it would take to complete your repairs. The hours had passed in the blink of an eye, and much to your surprise, your late-night work had spilled into the early morning hours.

 You wonder how Law does it. He spends nights nose-deep in medical texts or hunched over his desk, flipping between scrolls and maps with ease. The dark circles under his eyes are a clear sign that he doesn’t get nearly as much sleep as he needs, but he moves and thinks like a fully rested man. Even when you slip into his room in the late hours, mindful of making sure your crewmates don’t know where you run off to, you find Law at his desk, lost in that brilliant mind of his.

He makes it look good, but you aren’t so sure you can say the same. You trudge down the narrow halls of the Polar Tang like an undead creature—sluggish and half-alert.

But you’re so close. Nearly done with your work. All you need is just one final push, a little boost to keep you on the mend. You can already taste the creamy milk and rich espresso on your tongue, topped with a dribble of caramel, just for that additional burst of energy. Yes, that’s exactly what you need.

You feel like you could float into the mess hall if you weren’t so worn. You nearly stumble as you push your way inside, avoiding Bepo while he rushes to his seat with Shachi and Penguin in tow. The trio is already deep in an argument that you can’t quite make out but know isn’t even worth listening to. You swear those three share blood, even if Bepo isn’t human.

Ikkaku is already seated, protecting her plate from Hakugan, who still can’t seem to grasp the concept of keeping his grubby little hands out of other people's plates, no matter how many times Ikkaku or Jean Bart try to beat it into him.

Others slip in and out of the mess hall, exchanging a kind greeting or snide remark before shuffling to their stations.

You hear Law before you see him, his rich voice carrying through the crowded space as he calmly explains to Uni that the Polar Tang will have to make port soon. You can’t help but stare. Even in your hazy, sleep-deprived state, Law is still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Reliable as always, Uni nods before rushing to the control room. Law catches sight of you as you stagger towards the counter. His expression is flat, his lips pulled in a tight line, but you notice the softness in his eyes. No matter how convincing his scowl may be, his eyes are always so telling—the singular piece of his soul he can’t hide.

He shifts closer, leaving a respectable space so as not to draw attention to you two. “Good morning.”

You yawn the greeting back unceremoniously, and god, you swear you feel your heart stutter when you glimpse the smile he’s trying so hard to hide.

“Late night?”

Your response is a tired hum. A joke sits comfortably on your tongue, but you can’t compel yourself to say it. You need your morning boost before you fall face-flat on the floor. You glance up at the cupboard, too tired to struggle.

“Baby,” you call, your voice slightly slurred, “can you pass me a cup?"

Law reaches above you, finding the mug you always seem to gravitate to—it’s nearly in his hands before he stops suddenly.

He stands as still as a statue, and you know your confusion is evident. 

The sudden silence that falls over the room doesn’t help. You can’t make out the usual jokes and jabs shared at the tables. No clattering forks. No loud, obnoxious slurping.

Did you push yourself too far? Is this what sleep-deprivation psychosis feels like?

“…baby?” Penguin questions.

Oh.

Oh shit.

The voices come all at once. A shrill cry from Bepo. Shocked laughter from Jean Bart. Shachi and Penguin yell over each other, triumphantly claiming they knew it. The only person who seems wholly unaffected is Ikkaku, who shoots you a knowing grin before returning her attention to her plate.

You glance at Law, who glares at his crew as a multitude of questions are fired his way. Each inquiry is louder than the last, and voices begin to blend as your crewmates shout over each other, desperately trying to get to the bottom of your secret relationship.

Maybe it’s the sleep-deprived delirium that makes the situation funnier than it actually is, because you laugh. Inelegant and uncontrolled. You shoot Law an apologetic glance, attempting to look as guilty as you feel, but from the way your shoulders shake and your lip quivers, you know you look anything but.

You expect his signature scowl—the look that makes marines blood run cold—but you receive something far sweeter—that surprised, uncertain smile that makes Law look years younger. His irritation has a habit of fading when you laugh, as if your joy is contagious.

He ignores the cries of his crew, finally passing you your cup.

“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to sound regretful, but your voice sounds far too cherry, laced with laughter.

“Don’t be.” There’s a devious glint in his golden eyes, and you hear the tell-tale sound of his room being created before you even see the blue film that contains it. “You have to deal with them now.”

You swear you hear that snarky chuckle of his, but he’s gone too quick, replaced with a crumpled piece of paper. There’s a moment of silence, a temporary peace, before all eyes fall on you, and the questions spill forth once more.

A/N: I WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG TO FINISH THIS REQUEST!! Despite that, I hope you enjoyed!

divider credit: cafekitsune

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part VI

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Warnings: light angst

Words: 6225

The metal glove left behind by the attacker a few days ago rests on the simple wooden table, its presence out of place in the otherwise humble surroundings.

Around you, the room is still sparsely furnished with little more than the bare essentials.

You sit across from Bucky, watching intently as he examines the piece of armor. The silence stretches on, thick with unspoken thoughts, until you can no longer keep your curiosity at bay. 

“So, what do you think?” you ask, your voice cutting through the quiet.

Bucky tilts his head, scrutinizing the glove with a practiced eye before finally shaking his head, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I’ve never seen this type of weapon before,” he admits, his tone carrying the weight of years of experience. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was made by someone from the Stark kingdom.”

You lean in closer, your interest piqued at his answer.

“How can you tell?” 

Bucky gestures to the details on the glove, pointing out subtle features that had escaped your attention.

“The design—these engravings and the traces of rare metal used—is very similar to the signatures of weapons crafted when I was still the Captain.” 

His fingers trace the outline of the glove’s surface until they rest on the top, where the dull, gray stone is embedded.  

“This, however,” he continues, his voice dropping to a wary tone, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” 

He looks up at you, eyes serious and filled with curious suspicion.

“You said it was glowing?”

You furrow your brows as you stare at the stone in thought, focusing hard as you try to recall the chaos of the attack before giving a slight nod of your head.

“I think that’s what I saw glowing from the shadows during the attack,” you begin slowly, trying to piece together the memories. “And what caused that blinding flash when the attacker escaped. But after everything calmed down…”

You pause, the words catching in your throat as you struggle to explain the strange occurrence that followed.

“One moment, I was heading towards the twins, and the next…I’m kneeling beside this glove with my hand hovering above the stone.” 

You lock eyes with Bucky, giving him a worried expression.

“I can’t seem to remember what happened in between,” you admit, your voice tinged with frustration and a growing sense of unease. “It’s as if that time was completely erased from my mind.” 

You glance down at your hand, the one that had hovered so closely over the stone. 

“I think...the stone did something to my memories when I reached for it.” 

Closing your eyes briefly, you take a deep breath, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You think about the recent gaps and blurry memories in your mind, like how you failed to remember the moments after Dreykov captured you.

“And I have this feeling—it’s not the first time,” you admit quietly.

Bucky’s expression hardens with a mix of concern and sympathetic understanding of what you’re implying. 

“Do you have any idea or…”

You grimace apologetically, hesitating as you acknowledge the reason you came to Bucky with this unsettling situation.

“…experience with what it could be?” 

Thankfully, he isn’t offended by your question.

Instead, he leans back slightly, his expression thoughtful as he considers your words. After a moment of contemplation, he begins to speak, his tone measured and reflective.

“You know, your father—” he starts, but when he notices you tense, he quickly corrects himself, “Howard Stark was researching something similar to what Dreykov and the Romanovs were working on. The whole mind control possibility. Of course, he never knew about their success in that field, but he did explore a different angle, something leaning more towards the mystical elements.” 

Intrigued by the revelation, you think about the book you received from Melina, wondering if his notes on such topics might be included there.

Bucky’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he continues.

“Before he…died, he was close to figuring out how to harness the powers of sorcerers for non-magically inclined people. More specifically, the power of those with innate abilities to influence others’ minds,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “Like your powerful little friend.” 

Bucky pauses, letting his words sink in before addressing the question that’s been looming ever since you mentioned the stone and its possible effects on your memories.

“Speaking of which, why haven’t you asked her to take a look inside your mind? See if she can figure out what’s wrong.”

You sigh sadly at his suggestion. The idea of asking Wanda had crossed your mind, but you’ve been reluctant to push her, given her current condition.

“She’s still shaken from the attack and from how her powers accidentally hurt me,” you explain. “I’ll consider asking her when she feels better, but I thought maybe you might have some ideas too.” 

Bucky gives you a slight smirk, his eyes softening.

“Well, maybe next time, try not to touch things you don’t understand yet.”

You chuckle lightly, the tension easing just a bit as you glance around the small home. 

The cabin is simple, built from weathered wood that blends seamlessly with the surrounding forest. The only sounds you hear outside are the rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of a distant bird. 

“You know, I could always get you someplace with more room,” you offer, shifting the conversation to lighter topics. 

Bucky shakes his head, glancing around the space he’s come to know as his own. 

“I like this. It’s simple.”

“And isolated,” you add pointedly, your gaze sweeping the quiet surroundings. “Far from town and people. Have you even had any other visitors besides me?”

“I go into town occasionally for supplies, and I meet with Steve in the clearing sometimes for a spar,” Bucky defends, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“So you don’t even invite him over?” you ask with a hint of disappointment before encouraging him gently. “This is your chance to live without always worrying about looking over your shoulders.”

“I am living. This is the most peace I’ve had in years,” Bucky replies, his voice steady with conviction. He nods at you, his expression filled with gratitude and trust. “And I’m content to have one person I trust know where I am for now.”

You return his nod with a small smile, relenting with a sigh. 

Your occasional visits have made Bucky more comfortable and open with you recently, and you don’t want to push him too much.

“Alright then, I should head home,” you say, rising from your seat and carefully placing the glove back into your satchel.

“To prepare for the intimidation from the other council members today?” Bucky guesses knowingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I don’t miss that.”

You nod, a rueful smile crossing your face at the reminder.

“I also have some people coming today to start on the repairs for the gates.” 

As you reach the door, you pause and suggest, “You should visit sometime.” 

Bucky offers a small, appreciative smile but shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but I’m not good at meeting new people,” he replies.

You nod in understanding and bid him farewell before making your way to where your horse is waiting. As you ride through the quiet forest, your thoughts drift back to the satchel at your side. 

The strange events surrounding the stone still weigh heavily on your mind, and you wonder if you should ask Natasha for her thoughts on the situation.  

It’s been days since you last saw her, and the ache of missing her has settled deep in your chest. But now, with the upcoming council meeting providing a chance to see her without raising suspicion, you’re faced with a different challenge: pretending that you’re not in love with her. 

That’s easier said than done, considering you were exposed so quickly last time when your gaze lingered on Natasha just a little too long. 

Maybe you should avoid looking directly at her during the meeting. Hopefully, that might help conceal your feelings from the others.

As you near your manor, the sound of raised voices pulls you from your thoughts. In the distance, you recognize Pietro's voice, sharp and edged with anger.

“You can’t just spread your stuff everywhere like this! I work in this area!” Pietro exclaims, clearly frustrated.

"Where else am I supposed to set up?” Tony retorts impatiently. “In case you forgot, I’m supposed to be fixing this gate.”

Sighing in exasperation, you urge your horse forward, hurrying to intervene before their argument escalates.

As you approach, Tony's taunting voice cuts through the air.

“Let's be honest, is there really a need for you here? What's the point of a gatekeeper with no gate?” he quips, clearly enjoying his own provocation.

Quickly, you bring your horse to a halt in front of Pietro, blocking his path before things can get worse. Dismounting smoothly, you step between the two, determined to diffuse the tension.

“Don’t listen to him, Pietro,” you say, ruffling his hair with a fond smile. “You’re very much needed here.”

Offering him the reins, you add, “Could you please take the horse back to the stables for me?”

Though still clearly irritated, Pietro takes the reins and heads off, but not without shooting a glare at Tony over his shoulder.

Tony, unfazed, flashes a smug grin and waves mockingly after Pietro. When he turns back to you, you meet his gaze with a stern, disapproving look.

“That was uncalled for,” you say firmly. 

Tony shrugs, clearly unbothered by your reprimand. 

“It’s a tough world. If he can’t handle a bit of honest criticism, he’ll have a rough time in life,” he replies, his tone unapologetic.

Then, pointing at you, he adds, “And you can’t keep coddling him.”

You brush his hand aside dismissively.

“I’m not coddling him. I look out for him because he's someone I care about. There's a difference.”

Tony shudders dramatically.

“Sounds exhausting. Me, I only ever had to look out for myself. You should try it more often—really helps lower the stress,” he quips, waving at your disapproving frown.

“How about you just focus on the gate?” you suggest, gesturing toward the entrance. “It seems like Vision is the only one taking this job seriously.” 

Near the entrance, Vision stands at the remnants of the broken gates and hinges, meticulously measuring and taking notes with a notepad and quill in hand.

Tony smirks and gestures dramatically toward himself.

“He wouldn’t be doing that if I hadn’t told him to, so in a way, that’s all thanks to me.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with an exasperated sigh. 

“You really love complimenting yourself, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Tony responds with a grin. “It’s called confidence. If I don’t believe in myself, how could I expect others to?”

You pause, caught off guard by his answer.

Just when you think you’ve figured him out, he drops a casually insightful comment like this that makes you reconsider what sort of person you thought he was.

Before you can respond, Vision approaches with his calm and focused demeanor.

“I've documented all the specifications for the gates. Shall I move on to the outer walls now, or would you prefer I wait for later?” Vision asks.

You raise a hand, stopping him, your brows knitting together in confusion.

“Outer walls? I never mentioned anything about those.”

“About that," Tony interjects, gesturing at the surroundings.

“I walked around your perimeter earlier, and to be blunt, your security is pretty much non-existent. No defenses, no countermeasures against threats. For someone as protective of that kid as you are, I’m surprised you haven’t done anything about it.”

You glare at him, catching his little jab at you, but you answer calmly.

“That’s because my family’s reputation has always been enough to keep people from testing our boundaries,” you reply, before muttering under your breath, “At least it used to be.”

Vision studies you with a curious expression.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Y/n, what caused the damage to the gates?”

“It was a carriage crash,” you respond smoothly, hoping the explanation will be enough without digging into the details.

Vision's brows furrow slightly as he raises a hand to his chin, clearly skeptical.

Tony notices his reaction and quirks a brow.

“What's the problem?”

Vision shakes his head lightly, his eyes drifting back to you.

“The damage suggests the gates were torn off…” he trails off as his gaze shifts to something behind you.

You turn to see what caught his attention and find Wanda approaching, her arms crossed defensively, eyeing the two strangers warily. She stops beside you, and you introduce her.

“This is Wanda, Pietro’s twin sister.”

“Oh great, another one,” Tony mutters under his breath.

Wanda’s eyes narrow at his comment, and she gives Tony a sharp once-over before turning to you with a questioning look.

You sigh inwardly, marveling at how quickly Tony manages to get on the twins' bad side with so little effort.

Leaning closer to her, you whisper, "Be nice. We didn’t have any other options."

Wanda’s lips press into a thin line, clearly displeased, but she turns to Tony, her tone calm and commanding.

“Your things are blocking the entrance. You need to move them.”

To your surprise, Vision quietly excuses himself, stepping away, and begins moving their tools and supplies to the side. You can’t help but smile in mild amusement, wondering if Wanda noticed his reaction to her.

Tony, however, remains where he is, letting out a huff of disbelief at Vision’s actions before chuckling as he turns back to the two of you.

He reaches out as if to pat Wanda on the head.

“For someone so small, you sure know how to act like you’re in charge.”

Your eyes widen in alarm, but before you can intervene, it’s too late.

Wanda’s eyes flare red, and Tony’s hand freezes mid-air, wrapped in the familiar glow of her power.

A brief flicker of surprise crosses Tony’s face as he glances between Wanda and his immobilized hand.

Then, with an understanding smirk, he remarks, “Well, looks like we found the culprit who really destroyed the gates.”

You quickly step forward, placing a calming hand on Wanda’s shoulder, pulling her protectively closer to you.

“The crash destroyed the gates, not Wanda,” you say firmly, your tone carrying a warning as you glare at Tony.

Still smirking, Tony raises his free hand in mock surrender.

“If you say so.” He nods toward his trapped hand. “Mind letting this go? Kinda need it to do my job—assuming you still want my help.”

With a reluctant sigh, you glance at Wanda, who continues to glare at Tony, and give her a nod to let him go.

After a moment, the red glow fades from her eyes, and Tony’s hand is released. He rubs his wrist, his grin never faltering.

“I wouldn’t provoke her any further if I were you,” you warn, your voice low but clear.

“Noted,” Tony replies, still grinning. Then, with a teasing smirk, he adds, “So, anyone else you’re coddling that I should meet before I get started?”

You roll your eyes and turn to leave, guiding Wanda away with you.

“I don't like him,” Wanda mutters. Then, with a hint of concern, she asks, “Can we even trust someone like him?"

Her question lingers in the air as you weigh your thoughts.

Despite his arrogance and sarcasm, Tony doesn’t strike you as a bad person. He clearly has the skills for the job, and beneath the bravado, there’s something capable and dependable about him.

“I think we can,” you reply honestly, though a nagging feeling lingers concerning something else.

Based on what you've observed, Tony doesn’t appear to you as just some ordinary traveler visiting the kingdom. Your instincts tell you there’s something more.

With a slight shake of your head, you push the thought aside for later and decide to focus on what's next.

“Come on, help me get ready for the council meeting.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha strides purposefully across the courtyard toward the council room, her mind racing about the impending meeting.

Suddenly, Steve’s voice cut through her focus, pulling her back to the present.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern evident in his tone.

She stops at the edge of the training grounds, turning to face him. Her expression hardens slightly, reflecting the frustration she’s been harboring for the past few days.

“I’d feel a lot better if we weren’t about to waste time on a pointless interrogation,” she replies, her voice tinged with irritation. “What do they even hope to accomplish with this?” 

Steve places a comforting pat on her shoulder.

“I understand how you feel,” he says softly, his tone both supportive and firm. “But people like Lord Sitwell need to feel in control. Maybe going through the motions with this will calm him and the others down.”

Natasha’s eyes flicker with a mix of annoyance and reluctant acceptance.

She knows Steve is right, but the frustration of the situation–especially with putting you in the middle of it–irritates her all the same.

Her gaze drifts past him toward the towering council chamber in the distance, wondering if you had already arrived.

The thought of seeing you is the only silver lining in this otherwise dreadful meeting.

She wonders if you feel the same.

Before she can dwell on it, a voice rings out, sharp and urgent.

“Careful! On your left!” 

Natasha reacts instinctively, stepping to the side just as a shadow swoops down, brushing the space where she had stood moments before.

The bird completes its dive and soars back into the sky with a few strong beats of its wings. 

Her gaze follows the bird’s path as it circles back and lands gracefully on the arm of a knight approaching them.

The knight dips his head apologetically as he nears.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, Captain,” he says with a small bow. “Redwing got a little excited.” 

Natasha tilts her head, eyeing the bird with mild curiosity.

“Redwing?” she asks. 

The knight nods, lifting his arm to show the bird more clearly.

“My falcon. See the red streak of feathers on his wings? He’s cute, isn’t he?” He grins, clearly proud of his feathered friend, and holds the bird closer. “Would you like to pet him?” 

Natasha eyes the falcon warily, noting the bird's sharp beak and calculating gaze.

“I’m good,” she replies dryly, stepping back. 

Steve chuckles and takes the opportunity to introduce the knight properly.

“This is Sir Sam Wilson and his companion, Redwing.” 

Natasha gives a curt nod of understanding and acknowledgment.

“The knight you trust with your life,” she guesses.

Sam raises an amused brow, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. 

“Aw, Captain, I’m honored. Though maybe if you didn’t keep finding trouble, I wouldn’t have to save you so often.” 

Steve groans, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t bring you here to make fun of me,” he says, gesturing toward Natasha. “You mentioned you had something to report, and I figured we both needed to hear it.” 

Sam’s playful demeanor shifts as he straightens, adopting a more professional tone.

“Right. I’ve got good news and bad news,” he begins, gently urging Redwing to move from his arm to his shoulder.

The falcon complies, ruffling its feathers as it settles in.

“The good news is that I’ve dismissed all of Councillor Ross’ spies. It doesn’t seem like he’s sending any more, so for now, the only person keeping an eye on Lady Y/n’s movements is you, Your Majesty.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens, and she grimaces at his choice of words. 

“You’re not surveilling her,” she corrects, her voice firm. “The goal is to watch for potential threats, not to…monitor her.”

Steve sighs quietly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression.

“I still think you should at least let Lady Y/n know. I’m not sure how she’d feel about this if she found out, especially considering…everything recently.”

He hesitates before continuing, his eyes softening with sympathy.

“If you regret the breakup, maybe it’s better to talk to her about it rather than doing all this.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, offended at the suggestion of ulterior motives.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she snaps.

Beside Steve, Sam raises his hands in mock surrender, an understanding smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, no judgments here. I’d be curious too whether my ex was meeting with anyone after we split.”

“That’s not—” Natasha starts, but cuts herself off, groaning in frustration as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

Deciding it’s not worth her energy, she waves the comment away.

“What’s the bad news?” she asks, eager to shift the focus.

Sam’s playful demeanor fades entirely as his face grows serious. He exchanges a concerned glance with Steve before continuing.

“Lord Sitwell’s been behaving strangely these last few days. Recently, he met with some people in one of the shadier parts of town. They were demanding something from him—something that was supposed to be ready already. I overheard him promise them he’d have it by the end of the week.”

Steve’s brows furrow, his eyes narrowing in concern at the information.

“That sounds like he’s desperate,” he mutters, the implications sinking in. “Whatever he’s supposed to give them…it can’t be good.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow as her mind races, connecting the new information with a sudden thought.

“You think this has something to do with today’s meeting? It was his idea, after all,” she muses, her tone sharpening.

“It's possible,” Steve responds, nodding gravely before turning to Sam with a serious expression.

“Keep digging. Let us know as soon as you find anything. In the meantime, we’ll proceed with the meeting and see if we can figure out what Sitwell’s after.”

Sam straightens, a look of determination crossing his face.

“Will do. Redwing and I will keep you both updated on Sitwell and Lady Y/n’s situation.”

As Redwing lets out a sharp cry and soars back into the sky, Sam gives them a respectful nod and turns to leave.

Natasha and Steve watch him go, the weight of the new information heavy between them. After a moment, Natasha glances at Steve curiously.

“So, is the bird watching Y/n then?” she asks, her tone dry but with a hint of amusement.

Steve chuckles, the tension easing slightly.

“Don’t worry, Redwing’s got sharper eyes than any of us,” he replies with a grin. 

Natasha hums skeptically before turning her gaze back to the council chamber, her expression hardening once more.

“Let’s get this over with,” she says firmly, striding toward the chamber with renewed determination. 

As Natasha and Steve approach the council room doors, a familiar, anxious voice nearby interrupts the low hum of conversation from within.

Natasha makes out the soft, frantic muttering, and she instinctively turns her head in the direction of the sound.

“You go ahead,” she tells Steve.

He pauses and looks toward the sound before giving her a knowing nod and continuing toward the council chamber. 

Natasha veers off toward the balcony, following the sound of Kate Bishop’s voice.

As she draws closer, Natasha can make out Kate’s words more clearly, the younger woman’s tone laced with uncertainty and rising panic.

“What was I thinking? I don’t know the first thing about what to do in a council meeting!”

Kate’s hands flutter wildly in the air, her pacing quickening as she becomes more consumed by her spiraling thoughts.

Natasha stops outside the balcony’s entrance, watching for a moment as Kate’s obvious distress plays out before her. 

She knows the younger woman is more than capable, but this challenge is different.

The pressure of the council can be overwhelming, even for the most seasoned members.

Deciding that it’s time to step in before Kate’s anxiety spirals out of control, Natasha takes a step forward, her boots making a soft sound on the stone floor as she approaches. 

“You know,” Natasha begins, her voice calm and steady as it cuts through Kate’s rambling, “the whole reason I gave you the option was so that you could decide what's best for yourself.”

Kate jumps at Natasha’s voice, spinning around to face her. 

“Natasha! I didn’t see you there,” she exclaims, her tone tinged with a mixture of surprise and relief.

Natasha gives her a small smile, reassuring her,  “If you don’t want to be on the council, you could just refuse.”

Kate's expression shifts as her words sink in, and she quickly waves her hands in protest. 

“No, no, I’m grateful for the consideration. It’s just…what if I mess up? What if I say something stupid or make the wrong call? These people are all so experienced, and I’m just—” 

“You’re just what?” Natasha interrupts gently, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just as capable as anyone in that room, Kate. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Kate sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of her doubts. 

“I know, but it’s still intimidating. It’s not exactly the same as shooting arrows or sparring on the training grounds. And then I couldn’t find Yelena anywhere in the castle to talk about this with her. She wasn’t at her usual spots, so that means she must’ve snuck out again—without me,” Kate rambles, her words quickening with anxiousness and exasperation.

Natasha’s expression softens in understanding as she places a reassuring hand on Kate’s shoulder, grounding her. 

“Breathe, Kate.” 

She makes a mental note about Yelena’s mysterious unknown whereabouts, tucking away that piece of information to deal with later.

For now, her focus is on calming Kate down. 

After a couple of deep breaths from Kate, Natasha asks, “What made you decide to accept the seat and join the council?” 

Kate hesitates for a moment before answering, her voice quieter now. 

“When I visited Y/n the other day, she mentioned how some on the council gave you a hard time,” Kate replies, shrugging lightly. “And I thought, maybe if I were on the council—you'd have another person on your side, you know? But now I’m not so sure if I’d be able to do anything to help you.” 

Natasha’s gaze softens, touched by Kate’s concern and the thoughtfulness behind her decision. 

“Kate, you don’t have to be perfect; you just have to be yourself,” she says, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “You’ve got a perspective that no one else on that council has. That’s valuable. And you’ve got more courage than most people I’ve ever met.”

Kate looks up at Natasha, the tension in her features easing slightly.

“Do you really think I can do this?”

“I know you can,” Natasha replies with a small, encouraging smile. “But remember, the choice is still yours. If you ever feel like you don't want to do this anymore, there’s no shame in stepping back. But if you decide to stay, know that I’m grateful to have you on my side.”

Kate takes a deep breath, her resolve strengthening.

“Okay,” she says finally, her voice firmer now. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Natasha smiles, giving Kate’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“Good. Now, let’s get in there.” 

Kate nods, her confidence returning as she walks toward the council chamber with Natasha.

As they enter, the murmurs of the council members die down, all eyes turning toward Natasha and Kate. Steve, already seated, gives them both a nod of acknowledgment. 

Natasha takes her seat beside him, her presence commanding respect without a word. 

Kate hesitates for a brief moment, but with a reassuring glance from Natasha, she moves to an empty chair further down the table. 

With her settled, Natasha’s eyes instinctively seek you out in the room. She spots you quickly enough, engaged in a conversation with Maria.

The sight of your face lit with a warm smile instantly softens the tension she’s been carrying for the past few days. 

However, as soon as your gaze meets hers, something shifts.

Your smile fades slightly, replaced by a neutral, unreadable expression. Without hesitation, you turn away from her, directing your attention back to your discussion with Maria.

The abrupt shift in your demeanor leaves Natasha momentarily unsettled, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion. 

That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting from you.

Natasha quickly masks her surprise, forcing herself to focus on the matters at hand, but the lingering question of your action remains at the back of her mind.

The meeting begins as Ross formally welcomes Kate to the council and acknowledges your presence before passing the floor to Sitwell.

Natasha’s attention sharpens as Sitwell takes the lead, his tone smooth and calculated. 

“Lady Y/n,” Sitwell begins, addressing you directly with a practiced politeness. “Were you aware of any indications about the attack that day?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation in his question.

This is exactly what she had feared, Sitwell’s subtle attempt to paint you as a suspect rather than focusing on the real threat.

Her eyes flick to you, searching your face for signs of discomfort, but you remain composed and relaxed under the scrutiny.

“No,” you say calmly, your voice steady and unwavering. “My father’s early return from his trip that morning was unexpected though.”

Natasha suppresses a smirk of admiration as she watches you handle Sitwell’s probing with ease.

You’ve always had a way of turning the conversation back to the facts, refusing to be rattled.

The subtle redirection is clear—returning the focus to Dreykov, where it belongs.

But Sitwell ignores the opportunity you’ve given him to move on, and his next question cuts back toward you, determined to keep the discussion fixed on you.

“Can you remind the council again how you first became aware of the plans for the attack?” he asks, his tone pressing.

You remain unshaken, delivering your response with unwavering grace.

“We discovered correspondence between Lord Rumlow and Madam B about his next plans of action at the prison.”

Natasha watches Sitwell as he lowers his gaze to the documents in front of him, the ones Steve compiled during his investigation.

“And before that,” Sitwell presses on, “you were alone with Madam B for a short period, separated from the others. Could you tell us what happened during that time?” 

There’s a beat of silence, but you don’t flinch. Instead, you offer him a polite, practiced smile. 

“Unless you have something specific you’d like to ask, Lord Sitwell, I fail to see how my brief interaction with her is relevant to this discussion.”

The challenge in your tone is subtle, but Natasha picks up on it immediately. She can’t help but be impressed by your calm defiance.

Sitwell, however, remains undeterred. He leans forward, his tone sharpening.

“Madam B was your governess for years,” Sitwell remarks. “More importantly, she was involved in developing techniques similar to those used in the attack on the castle’s soldiers. Did she mention anything about that to you?”

Natasha exchanges a quick glance with Steve, her concern and suspicion mirrored in his eyes.

Sitwell is pushing into dangerous territory with his line of questioning, and Natasha can feel her patience start to thin at relentless probing.

“She mentioned developing a quicker way to control individuals for Lord Rumlow,” you reply calmly, not giving him more than he needs. 

Sitwell’s gaze narrows.

“Using Queen Melina’s serum, correct? A serum that was highly classified. And yet, Madam B had access to it.”

He gestures pointedly toward you.

“You’ve been known to assist Queen Melina in recent years—do you have any idea how Madam B came into possession of such sensitive information?”

Natasha clenches her fists beneath the table, her temper flaring at Sitwell’s attempt to blame you for something that was not in your control.

She’s on the verge of stepping in when Steve firmly places his hand on the table, speaking up with a calm yet authoritative voice.

“As you said, Lord Sitwell, that information is restricted. It will be handled by the appropriate parties who need to know,” Steve interjects. “We’re here to discuss Lord Dreykov’s involvement in the attack, not to speculate on unrelated matters.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Sitwell scowls, clearly displeased by Steve’s interruption.

Natasha can feel the frustration radiating off him, but he knows better than to challenge Steve directly. With a slight sneer, he drops the subject.

“Very well,” Sitwell says, his tone now colder. “Lady Y/n, what do you believe to be the extent of your father’s involvement in the attack?” 

You remain poised, your voice calm and measured.

“We can start with how the soldiers who attacked us at the prison were his,” you respond. 

A murmur ripples through the council, and one of the members chimes in, their voice skeptical.

“But how can you be sure they were following his orders and not acting independently?”

You draw in a deep breath, and Natasha notices the subtle tightening of your jaw as you answer.

“Dreykov is all about control. He surrounds himself with those who follow his every command. Anyone who doesn’t is…dispensable.”

Sitwell seizes on your words, raising an eyebrow as he rifles through his documents before fixing his gaze on you.

“I assume that’s why you chose to return to your manor—to save your servants?” he asks, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Maximoff twins. One of whom you’ve conveniently kept secret about her dangerous abilities.” 

Your eyes flash with warning, but you maintain your composure.

“We all have our secrets, Lord Sitwell,” you reply smoothly. “Secrets we keep to protect the people we care about.”

A thin smile creeps onto Sitwell’s face, and Natasha feels a chill of unease. She becomes more alert, sensing the shift in the conversation.

“That’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it?” Sitwell continues, his voice dangerously calm. “To uncover those secrets—the things that were left out of these so-called official reports.”

He tosses the documents onto the table dismissively, his gaze fixed on you.

“So, Lady Y/n, why don’t you tell us what happened during those moments before the final confrontation between you and your father?”

The room falls into tense silence as everyone waits for your response.

Natasha’s attention remains locked on you, her entire being ready to intervene if necessary.

For a brief second, your eyes flicker to hers, and in that instant, Natasha offers a small, subtle nod—a wordless gesture of support, silently reassuring you that she’s with you.

Taking a deep breath, you speak, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions beneath the surface.

“Lord Dreykov tried to use me to kill Natasha.”

The revelation sends a shockwave through the room, gasps and murmurs rising from the council members.

One of them leans forward, their voice urgent and concerned. “He threatened you?”

“In a way,” you admit, your voice quiet but firm. “He controlled me, just like Rumlow controlled the other soldiers.” 

There was a palpable shift in the room.

The realization of what you’ve endured begins to sink in, and for a moment, the air is thick with the gravity of your admission.

But before the silence can stretch too long, Sitwell seizes the opportunity to regain control of the conversation.

“And we’re supposed to believe that you somehow broke free from his control on your own?” Sitwell’s eyes narrow, his tone sharp as he probes deeper. “Can you even explain the process he used to bring you under his control in the first place?”

At his question, Natasha notices a flicker of something—unease, confusion—flash across your face, and for the first time during the meeting, she sees a crack in your composed exterior.

You hesitate, and then, with a strained voice,  you admit, “I can’t remember.” 

Sitwell scoffs in disbelief. He leans forward, his voice dripping with skepticism.

“You can’t—or you won’t?” 

You straighten in your seat, a flare of defiance in your eyes.

“I would never want to harm Natasha or anyone in her family intentionally. That’s the truth.” 

Sitwell leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he regards you with cold calculation. His next question is calculated and sharp, aimed to undermine and cast doubt on everything you’ve said.

“How can we be sure you’re even telling the truth?” 

The room falls into a tense, oppressive silence, every eye now locked on you. The weight of Sitwell’s words lingers in the air, thick with suspicion and judgment. 

Natasha, already at her breaking point from watching Sitwell chip away at your integrity, feels the urge to intervene and finally put an end to this interrogation. She’s ready to speak when your voice cuts through the silence.

“The serum.”

The room seems to freeze for a moment, and Sitwell blinks, momentarily thrown by your response.

“What?”

Natasha swings her head toward you, her brows knitting together in confusion and concern.

Your suggestion is reckless, dangerous even, and she can hardly believe you would propose such a thing. 

But there it is—that familiar look of determination she knows so well, etched across your face. It’s the same expression you wear when you’re willing to risk everything for what you believe in.

“Have me take the serum,” you repeat, your voice unwavering and resolute. “Then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: thank you for reading! and sorry for the long break in between chapters, I didn’t mean for it to be a whole month since an update on this series, but hopefully it won’t be like this for next time.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

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