#dat face doe

[todoroki-waifu]

[sarneo]

The best frame in the entire episode

[treebloop]

it's productive, it's revolutionary... it is purity and innocence clashing with grotesque history and culture. i am sorry

[princesscallyie]

Was watching Jojo so I could have something to watch while drawing and this man had me like this lol

[meowww-ffxiv]

on Meowdred and his gender/sexuality because I saw a WoLQotD on Twitter and it's interesting:

Meowdred had the fortune of growing up around a lot of trans/nb people or those who eventually discovered themselves to be trans/nb or otherwise non-conforming to even the loose societal expectations of Dirt Poor Bastards Living in Port City. So he got to ask the question of whether he felt the same early, and got the answer early that he was comfortable with the way his gender identity matched with his physical body.

The whole being aro/ace was more nebulous because there was no point of reference for Mordred to even think about the concept. He just knew that he didn't feel the kind of craving others seemed to have of sex, or even the loneliness that drove some friends to have 3 lovers in the span of 2 weeks. Yeah, he's kissed a guy...and a girl...and a non-binary person. It was nice, and a bit awkward, and Mordred decided to take the fact that he felt no urge to pursue a follow-up at face value.

Nowadays he's like... "I'll try and meet you in the middle of our attraction if it is mutual and if I care about you, whatever it is, but there will be no point in our relationship -- of whatever nature it is -- where I cease to be myself."

It had been both a point of appreciation and consternation with others in his previous, and current, relationships. Mordred would be incredibly upfront about his limits and hard lines, and didn't tolerate attempts at coercion or manipulation to get those hard lines to change.

But those were sweeping, hard lines drawn in the earth. For the little things, a hundred thousand compromises and small negotiations of space and however many moments of inconvenience and discomfort Mordred needed to go through, to make his friends happy? Yeah, he'd do them. The favors, the hours trekking through the rain to get them something they like, the conversations he didn't really enjoy but knew Alphinaud did.

For all that Mordred didn't experience sexual or romantic attraction, he's very clear-minded when it comes to knowing how relationships work for him, and how he can make his side of a connection work for others. Relationships, after all, aren't inherently transactional. Nor are they about feeling comfort in each individual moment. Rather they're a balance of intuition, attention, and care; if the small things inconveniences and disagreements suffered are towards a net-positive, then he would suffer them all, and be glad that there was someone he loved enough to make all this worthwhile.

But this was wisdom Mordred could never put into words. He wasn't very good with words. He could only live it, and sincerely hope that his friends understood the value he placed in those friendships, and the reason why he would keep choosing them.

[tinythebunni]

Rafe Cameron

🫧🍭🐬

Rafe is literally da definition of pussy whipped. this man cannot live without spending atleast 2 hours between ur thighs each day. he comes home from the golf club basically feigning for your taste. he gives a kiss to your clit before he starts licking u in the most sinful ways.

i feel like Rafe would 100% keep a photo of your pretty cunt leaking w his cum in his wallet. he looks at it each time he swipes his card or goes to show his ID for a drink. and if u prefer season one Rafe, then it’s right next 2 his bags of coke!

Rafe luvs it when u surprise him with pictures of u while he’s at work! this man enjoys seeing u naked and seeing ur pretty face! he gets just as hard from nudes as he does when u send him pictures of u next 2 ur crusty lil dog he can’t stand (he’d never tell you dat tho!)

he loves it when he comes home and you basically pounce on him. you’re waiting on da couch 4 him when he comes home and he can tell how worked up you are! he so did dis on purpose, sending you a mirror picture of his hands holding a box in one hand and his phone in the other. you hug him with all your strength and start leaving kisses on his neck and chest! you don’t care about dat sweat he has, u like his musk anyways.

he gets hard from the look in your eyes when u gaze up at him. you tell him how badly you need him! you drag his hand to between your thighs and slide it past your underwear. his knees almost give out form how you whimper when u feel his fingers inside you. he kisses you with all his strength and taps the back of your thigh, hinting for you to jump. he carries you all da way 2 his room and takes care of u all night. making sure his sweetest girl is feeling better and well fucked <3

[backspacingmyself]

08/02/2024, 19:05pm

It seems all I ever get.....is being used

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You smacks their ass as they walk past (Part.1)

Each X-Man reacts with a mix of surprise and playful teasing when you smacks their ass as they walk past, leading to affectionate and mischievous moments.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Alex Summers, Pietro Maximoff & Jean Grey

Logan (Wolverine):

You’re in the kitchen, mindlessly going about your business, while Logan’s at the counter slicing through a loaf of bread. He’s focused, as usual, with that familiar scowl on his face that never quite leaves. The kitchen is quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of his knife slicing through the bread. You can’t help yourself—you watch him for a moment, admiring the way his muscles move under his tight shirt, the raw strength in every little motion. He looks so serious, so in his own world.

As you pass behind him, you smirk to yourself. It’s too tempting. Without thinking twice, you let your hand drift out, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, you smack his ass, enjoying the solid *thwack* that follows. You don’t stop, just continue walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smile curling on your lips.

Logan freezes mid-slice. For a beat, he doesn’t say a word. Then you hear the low rumble of a growl deep in his chest. “Really, darlin’?” His voice is thick, a little rough around the edges, and you can hear the amusement creeping in. He turns his head, one eyebrow raised, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You glance back at him, feigning innocence, but you can see the way his eyes darken just a bit. He drops the knife, turning slowly, taking a step toward you. His movements are deliberate, almost predatory. “You think you can just walk by like that and not face the consequences?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

Before you can respond, Logan’s hand is on your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “If you’re gonna start somethin’, sweetheart, you better be ready to finish it.” There’s a playful challenge in his voice, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not about to let you off the hook that easily.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit):

Remy is leaning against the couch, casually flipping through a deck of cards, as he often does when he’s bored. The two of you have been lounging around the living room all afternoon, and there’s an easy, comfortable silence between you. He’s dressed in that effortless way he always is—dark jeans that hug him in all the right places and a shirt that’s just tight enough to show off his lean muscles. He catches you looking at him, flashing you that mischievous smile, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re already plotting something in your head. You stroll past him, heading toward the kitchen, but as you do, you let your hand dip down and smack his ass, hard enough to make him jump a little. You don’t stop, just keep walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smirk on your face.

“Mon dieu, cherie,” Remy’s voice comes out in a playful drawl, full of that Southern charm he’s famous for. He’s immediately on his feet, tossing the cards onto the couch and following you into the kitchen. “You really gonna hit an innocent man like dat and walk away?” You glance over your shoulder, and he’s grinning, his red-on-black eyes glowing with amusement.

Before you can get far, he’s behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Y’know, cher, dat’s gonna cost you somethin’,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. There’s a heat to his words, and you can feel the playful threat behind them. “You know what happens when you mess with de Ragin’ Cajun, right?”

He spins you around, pressing you up against the counter with that wicked grin still plastered on his face. His hands slide down your sides, landing right where you’d smacked him. “Might have t’ return de favor,” he purrs, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “You know Remy always collects his dues, mon amour.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):

You’re in the middle of tidying up the bedroom when you spot Kurt near the door, his back to you as he’s sorting through some papers. He’s muttering to himself in that soft, lilting German accent that you love so much, completely unaware of your eyes on him. His tail sways lazily behind him as he concentrates, and you can’t help but grin to yourself, an idea forming in your head.

You move silently, making your way over to him, and just as you pass by, you raise your hand and give his firm ass a playful smack. The sound is sharp in the quiet room, and you immediately keep walking, acting as if nothing had happened. But the reaction is instantaneous.

Kurt yelps in surprise, his tail flicking up and curling in the air as he turns to face you, a mix of shock and amusement on his face. “Liebling!” he exclaims, his yellow eyes wide with playful disbelief. “Did you just…?” His voice trails off as he stares at you, his mouth hanging open in mock offense.

You glance over your shoulder at him, feigning innocence. “What? I didn’t do anything,” you say with a smirk, knowing full well he doesn’t believe a word of it.

Before you can blink, there’s a familiar "bamf", and in an instant, Kurt’s teleported right in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his tail curls mischievously around your leg. “Oh, so you think you can get away with that, meine Liebe?” he teases, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You know I won’t let that slide.”

His lips brush against your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he continues, “Perhaps you need a reminder of what happens when you provoke a demon.” The way he says it is both playful and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. His tail tightens its grip on your leg, holding you in place as his hands move to your hips.

Kurt’s mischievous smile is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh as he presses a light kiss to your lips. “Next time, I might just have to teleport you somewhere… private,” he adds with a wink, his tail flicking playfully as he pulls you closer, the two of you lost in your little game.

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

You’re sitting at the dining room table, flipping through some documents when Scott walks by with his usual purposeful stride. His posture is perfect, as always, and that stern expression he wears doesn’t falter. He’s got a natural air of authority, but you’ve seen the softer side of him that few others get to witness. As he walks past you, that teasing side of you sparks to life, and without warning, you reach out and give his ass a firm smack.

The sound echoes in the quiet room, and Scott stops dead in his tracks. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve startled him too much, but then he turns slowly, adjusting his visor in that way he does when he’s trying to keep control. “Really?” he asks, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “You’re feeling bold today, huh?”

You grin, leaning back in your chair as if daring him to react. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you tease, enjoying the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

Scott doesn’t let himself smile, but you can see the ghost of one tugging at his lips. He strides back toward you, placing his hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until his face is mere inches from yours. His eyes are hidden behind that visor, but you know that intense gaze is focused solely on you. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and authoritative, “I could make this a teaching moment if you keep testing me.”

There’s a flicker of challenge in his tone, and you can’t help but shiver at the way he’s so controlled yet playful all at once. “Maybe I want to be taught a lesson,” you reply cheekily, smirking up at him.

Scott’s lips quirk into a small smile at that, and he leans in even closer, his breath brushing your skin. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warns softly, his tone filled with promise. You know Scott is all about discipline and control, but with you, there’s always an undercurrent of heat simmering just beneath the surface. And right now, you’re enjoying pushing all his buttons.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):

You’ve just finished straightening up a few things around the living room when you notice Erik standing by the window, his arms crossed and his expression distant. He’s always deep in thought, his mind constantly working through plans, strategies, and the weight of his responsibilities. But in moments like these, you love pulling him out of that serious headspace, even if just for a second.

As you walk past him, you let your hand trail along his lower back before delivering a quick, playful smack to his ass. You know it’ll catch him off guard, and sure enough, Erik’s head turns sharply toward you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing in his steely gaze. “Liebling,” he says slowly, his deep voice laced with a dark chuckle, “I hope you realize what you’ve just done.”

You meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, shrugging casually. “What? Can’t a person have a little fun?”

Erik narrows his eyes, though you can see the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps toward you, his movements smooth and deliberate, until he’s standing directly in front of you, his towering presence almost intimidating. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warns, his voice low and dripping with intent.

His fingers reach out, brushing against your arm with a feather-light touch before sliding to your waist. “You should know better than to provoke me,” he continues, his tone growing softer, more menacing in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. There’s always something about Erik’s raw power that makes moments like these feel electric, like you’re on the verge of something intense.

You raise an eyebrow at him, refusing to back down. “Maybe I like living dangerously.”

Erik’s smirk widens, and without warning, he pulls you closer, his hand firm on your waist. “Careful, Liebling,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Next time, I might not be so gentle.” His eyes gleam with the promise of something more, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that with Erik, every moment is charged with tension and passion.

Warren Worthington III (Angel):

Warren is pacing around the room, his wings fluttering slightly as he moves. He always gets restless like this, especially after long missions, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. His wings, magnificent as ever, brush against the walls with each step, and you can’t help but admire the effortless grace he carries with him.

You decide to lighten the mood, and as you walk by, you reach out and give his ass a playful smack. It’s quick, unexpected, and you’re already a few steps ahead by the time Warren stops and turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really, Y/N?” he says, a soft laugh escaping his lips. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into that charming smile you know so well.

“What?” you reply innocently, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Just wanted to see if you’d notice.”

Warren chuckles, shaking his head as he folds his wings neatly behind him and strides over to you. “Oh, I noticed,” he says, his voice smooth and playful, like silk brushing against your skin. He steps closer, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “You’re lucky I find it cute when you get cheeky.”

You grin up at him, but before you can say anything, Warren’s lips are by your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you should know… you’ve got my full attention now.” There’s a teasing edge to his words, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his wings subtly enclosing around you, as if shielding the two of you from the world.

His fingers glide down your back, lingering just above where your hand had landed on him. “You know,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck, “if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, and you can feel the playful energy between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. Warren always knows how to turn a simple moment into something unforgettable, and as his wings wrap around you, you know you’re in for more than just playful teasing tonight.

Bobby Drake (Iceman):

You’re standing by the counter, organizing some groceries while Bobby flips through a magazine at the kitchen table. His legs are kicked up, as casual as ever, when you pass by. Feeling playful, you give his ass a swift smack as you move past him. The sound echoes in the small space, and it’s enough to catch his attention immediately.

Bobby jerks, almost spilling his drink in surprise, before whipping around to face you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from both the slap and embarrassment. “Woah! Y/N, what was that for?” he asks, though there’s no hiding the grin pulling at his lips.

You shrug, flashing him an innocent look. “Just making sure you’re awake.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, crossing the room to stand next to you. “Oh, I’m awake now, alright,” he teases, sliding his arms around your waist, his touch cool against your skin. “I didn’t know you had it in you to get so… bold.”

His playful tone matches the mischievous glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you challenge, enjoying the light banter between you two.

Bobby leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “I can handle anything you throw at me, but don’t think I’ll let you get away with that.” His voice is laced with a teasing edge, and you feel a cool breeze sweep through the room, a subtle reminder of the icy powers he wields. You know he’s up to something, but before you can react, he presses a quick kiss to your neck and steps back with a wink. “You’re gonna pay for that, you know.”

Alex Summers (Havok):

Alex is sprawled out on the couch, looking through some reports when you walk by. His feet are up, and there’s a focused look on his face, the kind he always wears when he’s trying to deal with the endless responsibilities of being an X-Man. You take the opportunity as you pass, leaning over to give his ass a firm smack, catching him completely off guard.

Alex sits up instantly, his eyes narrowing playfully as he turns to you. “Did you just…?” he starts, not quite believing what just happened. He’s still processing it, a mix of amusement and shock spreading across his face.

You grin, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow. “What? Just thought I’d remind you who’s boss around here,” you tease, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him.

Alex chuckles, shaking his head as he stands up, his presence commanding yet relaxed. “Oh, is that right?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of mischief lacing his words. He walks toward you, closing the space between you quickly. “Well, I think you’re about to find out that I don’t take orders so easily.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, his energy always simmering just beneath the surface. “You like playing with fire, huh?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Careful, Y/N… you might just get burned.”

The tension between you sizzles, and there’s a playful challenge in his eyes as he leans in closer. Alex has always had that perfect balance of power and charm, and moments like this remind you just how intoxicating he can be.

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver):

Pietro is a blur of motion, zipping around the room as he organizes everything at lightning speed. You’ve gotten used to his constant fast-paced movements, but that doesn’t stop you from messing with him whenever you get the chance. As he darts past you, you reach out, timing it perfectly to give his ass a swift smack.

In a flash, Pietro skids to a halt, spinning around to face you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and excitement. “Did you just smack me?” he asks, his voice incredulous but laced with laughter. “I didn’t even see that coming!”

You grin, leaning against the counter as you shrug casually. “Maybe you’re losing your touch, Speedy.”

Pietro narrows his eyes playfully, zipping right in front of you in the blink of an eye. He’s so close, you can feel the rush of air from his speed. “Losing my touch? Oh, you’re in for it now,” he teases, his lips curling into that trademark smirk that always makes your heart race.

Before you can respond, he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re lucky I find this little game of yours amusing,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “But don’t think for a second I won’t get you back. Faster than you can blink.”

Pietro’s hand slides down your side, and you can feel the energy buzzing off him, the tension between you electric. His eyes gleam with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. “Next time you try that, you better be ready to run,” he warns, but there’s no real danger in his tone—only the promise of more playful banter to come.

Jean Grey:

Jean is standing at the stove, her mind likely a million miles away as she stirs something in the pot. You’ve always loved watching her in these quiet moments, the way her hair seems to glow in the soft light, her expression so calm and serene. As you walk by, you decide to playfully break the stillness and give her a quick, teasing smack on the ass.

Jean gasps in surprise, her stirring hand freezing mid-motion as she looks over her shoulder at you, eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice half-laughing, half-scolding. You can see the blush rising on her cheeks, and it only makes your grin widen.

“What?” you reply innocently, trying your best to look like you didn’t just commit the playful act. “I couldn’t resist.”

Jean sets the spoon down and turns fully toward you, hands on her hips, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, though the smile tugging at her lips betrays any attempt at a stern tone.

Before you can respond, you feel a subtle tug in your mind—Jean’s way of playfully reminding you she’s always got the upper hand when it comes to your little games. She steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “You know I could have you pinned with a single thought,” she teases, her voice soft yet teasing. “But I think I’ll let you off the hook this time… unless you want me to show you what happens when you mess with a telepath.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the warmth of her body as she presses closer, her lips ghosting over your ear. “Think you’re fast enough to get away next time?” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin, leaving you anticipating her next move.

[burts-baked-bees]

One of a Kind

D&WGambit! x X-Men97!Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, X-Men 97' Spoilers, Pining, happy ending, two idiots, hurt/comfort, mention of character death

WC: 1686

“Have you been watching the news?” Scotts voice came as Y/n entered the mansion. The mutant looked up at the team leader with a look of confusion as she placed her bag down on the counter. 

“No? Why?” Her brow furrowed as Scott swallowed hard. He moved quietly to the small TV on the kitchen counter and flipped it on; Y/n watched in horror as images of the aftermath of a full scale attack on Genosha flashed on the screen. She felt a chill run through her body as flames danced in her vision and ashes coated what was once a proud and new country. She gripped the counter as Scott watched the unfolding news with her. 

“We have people there.” Y/n croaked as she kept her gaze locked on the screen. “Scott. Rogue, Kurt and Magneto are there.” Her eyes moved to her leader as his emotionless sunglasses reflected her distressed expression back at her. “Scott.” She said sternly. “Remy is there.”

Scotts brows furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. Y/n Felt her stomach drop as the horrors of the news broadcast played in her ears. 

“Are they okay?” She asked, her voice breaking as she gripped the side of the counter. The same counter that Remy taught her to make jambalaya at. The same counter she had sat on and shared a late night bowl of cereal with him just a few nights before. “Scott.” She practically snarled. He took a step forward, his arm reaching out, almost like he was looking for comfort as well, like he was trying to tell her he had lost something too. 

Lost something.

“Scott. Is Remy okay?” 

…

 “Eva’ since you wandered up in ‘ere, you been lookin’ at ole’Gambit like you seen a ghost sha.” 

Y/n was ripped from her thoughts as she glanced at the man next to her. She was suddenly reminded she was in the Void and not the kitchen of the Xavier Mansion grieving loss all over again. 

“What?” She asked horsley as she looked up at the tall man on her left. He gave her a small smile. 

“Sha, you been up in ‘ere a few weeks now, yeah? When you gon tell Gambit why you lookin at him like dat? Hmm?” The Cajun sat down across from her his gaze intense as he perched his elbows on his knees. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, she kept her gaze on the floor, on his boots. His voice felt like a million knives in her chest as she fiddled with the frayed ends of her shirt sleeves. It wasn’t him; not her version of him anyways. He sounded like Remy, moved like Remy, laughed like Remy… His eyes were different though, clear green instead of a red iris surrounded by black.His hair was slightly different too, not red but a natural brown. He gave her a pointed look, as if to say he wasn’t leaving till she answered him. Y/n sighed. 

 “Don’t know what you mean…” She spoke softly rubbing her face; Gambit chuckled. 

“You don know? Or you jus’ don wanna’ say, sha?” He sat back slightly, fidgeting with his deck of cards like he always did. Shuffling in an endless loop just to keep his hands busy. She watched his hands intently, bile rising in her throat as she watched the dance of the cards, feeling that same emptiness she had when Kurt gave his homily at the funeral…. 

“Been tree’ weeks since you popped into da void, been known you was an X-Men from da way you fight. We had a lot of X-Men up in ere’, but not like you.” He sighed, hands still moving and shuffling, but his eyes never left her face. Y/n sighed again, swallowing down the lump in her throat. 

 “So? Why do you care?” She asked, finally looking up to meet his gaze. He gave her a small smile, almost proud of her for finally looking at him head on. She felt sick again. 

“Gambit cares. He always does, sha. ‘Specially when one of his own kind gets dumped in dis hellscape.” His words were soft, like he was speaking to a cornered animal. Her Remy never talked to her like that. He was always obnoxious and snarky, pushing her buttons and trying to get a rise out of her. She scowled before leaning back. 

 “I've got my own reasons to be apprehensive. Everything here, everyone, it's all very new… Very… real…” Her eyes drifted away again as Gambit nodded in an understanding way. 

  “No one here knew da Gambit when dey first seen him. But you? Toi mon amie, you took one look at da Gambit et, mon dieu thought you was gonna combust on da spot. You looked at me like you known me. But da thing is, sha. Gambit don’t know you.” 

Her eyes glossed over at that statement; he didn’t know her. He was intrigued by her, but he didn’t know her. She scoffed,

 “Guess I don't exist outside of my timeline. Everyone seems to have variants except me.” She spoke with a shake of her head. She had seen countless Deadpool’s in the void since she got here, a few other versions of her teammates and even some Avengers, but she had never seen another Y/n. She was the only one, and now she had been put here. 

The last thing she remembered was Charles and Magnus asking her and her teammates to pick a side. The answer was clear for most of them, Rogue went with Magneto and so did Sunspot. The rest stayed loyal to a cause that didn’t seem to have a point anymore. She had fled the choice, unsure how she was supposed to pick a side when the only person she had fought for was dead. Humans had killed him. And she hadn’t even been there to tell him she loved him… to tell her best friend that after all this time, she had loved him more than she had ever loved anyone in her life. 

That’s when the TVA showed up, spouting something about how she was a danger to her timeline and needed to be removed to ensure the survival of the true X-Men. She had been thrown in, against her will, to a hellish landscape that was fitting of a reject like herself. She had fought tooth and nail against bandits in the wastelands before she came across a face that she hadn’t expected to ever see again. 

“I lost you ‘dere, sha. Where you gon off too now?” Gambit���s voice cut through her memories like Logan’s claws as she snapped her eyes back up to him. He gave her a warm smile before shuffling his deck again. She watched his hands again and he chuckled. “People are like cards, sha. Different suits, but all made of da same material. I like to tink’ of myself as a jack of all trades-” He flipped the jacks of the deck out to face her before shuffling them back in. “You doe? You give da Gambit a very specific type’o vibe.” 

Y/n watched as he shuffled a bit more before the queen of hearts flipped from the deck. Her blood ran cold. That wasn’t her card. That was Rogues. It had always been Rogues. Never her. Gambit's smug smile fell as she stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing with a twinge of panic. He stood up with her hands out in a show of surrender as he chuckled airly.

    “Gambit done take things too far. I apologize, meant no ‘arm in it. Je suis désolé mon amie.” 

She shook her head before reaching forward and taking the deck from his hand. He protested but watched her as she pulled the Joker card from the deck and pressed it back in his hand, atop the Queen of Hearts. 

 “This card. You always said this was me.” She pressed the glossy paper to his palm, staring at the jester printed in black and white. “You would pull this card and laugh at the resemblance, saying I was a damn couyon.” She frowned as tears pricked her eyes. “That Queen was reserved for far better than me. Never for me. Don’t you dare.” Her voice sounded labored as she locked eyes with him; his green eyes flashed with sympathy and hurt as he slowly closed his hand around hers. She didn’t pull away, instead she felt her breath hitch as a wave of burning hot emotions flooded her chest and mind. 

“Comment une personne si belle peut-elle être si triste?” He spoke softly. “You did know me den? Where you come from?” 

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before nodding. 

 “I did. But I lost you.” She choked out. 

He squeezed her hand softly. 

“And me and you? Was we…?” He asked softly, eyes searching hers. “Dis Gambit only ever known da Void. Pretty sure I was born here, neva known another way.” 

  “He was my best friend. My whole world.” She choked out with a sad smile. “But I was his couyon, never his queen.” She laughed, remembering the way he used to throw that word around with a charming smile running away from her playful wrath everytime. This Gambit gave her a sad smile.

  “He must have been blind ta not see da gift he had.” He spoke softly. Y/n shook her head. 

 “If you knew Rogue, you wouldn't say that. A Queen of hearts through and through. I could never blame him for picking her.” With that she dropped his hand, the lingering warmth fading from her skin. 

“Dis Gambit wants to know you more, sha. Dis Gambit don't wanna’ leave you lone.” His words were followed by him placing a card in her palm.

Y/n smiled softly before looking at the card he had handed her. “You aint no couyon-” He chuckled. 

Ace of Hearts.

“You one of a kind.”  

[bopero]

sunspots

summary - a collection of hamzah’s lack of self control when it comes to you. warnings - swearing, reader is a kpop stan lol note - hai :3 i have been so obsessed with hamzah lately i had to get it out of my system. this is a side blog as im too embarrassed to post on my main fic blog. enjoy and send ideas!

polycule reveal - out of character #100

The podcast starts like any other. Hamzah and Martin sit in the middle of the couch, with Mandy and you on either side of them. It’s the first episode that has you featured in it, and Hamzah is quick to settle any nerves you have with a soft smile and a squeeze of your shoulder. “So, yeah guys. There’s another member in our polycule now, this is Hamzah’s contribution.” Martin points towards you. Hamzah shakes his head, “Alright, bro…”. “Does that mean I get a share of the YouTube channel? Mandy, have they ever given you money?” Mandy clicks her tongue and continues in her deadpan voice, “Um, no. Basically they keep me in their dungeon until they need more views. I’d run away if I were you, honestly.” You pretend to look nervously between Hamzah and Martin, “Honestly I didn’t wanna say it but the basement Hamzah keeps me in is super gross.” “I don’t like this bit. Viewers, please be advised I do not keep my girlfriend in a basement for views. I don’t know about Martin, though.” “Dang it, first episode and they’re already making us look like idiots, Mandy. We need to try harder.”

becoming bts - out of character #104

The episode is you, Hamzah, and Martin. Hamzah is sat obviously much closer to you (which the comments are quick to mention, laughing at the lack of personal space he gives you.) “Yeah, a lot of the Slushies have been asking me if I’m a kpop stan. My ult bias-” Hamzah throws his hands into the air dramatically as he sees you pull a small photocard out of your wallet. A familiar face makes him groan loudly, “Oh, don’t even get me started on this fool! I am sick and tired of seeing him everywhere!” You proudly show off the photocard to the camera despite Hamzah’s childish complaints. Martin leans over to take a look at the photo in your hands, “Bro, what’s the big deal? Is this like challenging your alphaness?” You laugh loudly and Hamzah smiles, betraying the annoyed facade he’s putting on, “No! He just haunts me. She knows when his birthday is and shit and what he ate for breakfast that day, like bro,” he turns to you, pointing at you accusingly, “You don’t ask what I eat for breakfast.” Martin grabs his shoulder, as if to calm him down, “Bro. You know what this means. You have to defend your woman.” Hamzah turns to Martin and before you can question them, they begin singing together and waving their arms in the air, “Shoot dat boy in da head, shoot dat boy in da head!” The episode ends with you deadpanning at the camera as they chant beside you.

don’t play this game at 3 am (not clickbait!!!)

Martin and Hamzah had listened to their viewers, your first feature on the channel being in a Resident Evil gameplay. The comments are filled with ‘i slushed everywhere when i saw yn in the thumbnail’ and ‘hamzah holding onto yn everytime there’s a jumpscare boyy aren’t u supposed to b da man?’ You sit between the two men who both inadvertently curl into you as the creepy aura permeates outside the game as well. Martin dramatically holds onto his head as you shoot bullets into the grossly looking zombies on the screen, “Oh, god they’re gonna eat us out! Quick, grab more ammo!” “Ok, I don’t think they’re gonna do all that-” They both jump as a loud, sharp groan comes from the speaker. Hamzah in particular lets out his signature high-pitched scream. Martin seems to break character and laughs aloud as Hamzah shakes his head in embarrassment, turning away from the camera so it won’t catch the bright blush on his cheeks when you coo at him. “Aww, did you pee yourself?” Martin tries to speak through laughter, “I think you did, dude there’s a wet spot-” Hamzah quickly denies it, “Ok, stop lying to all the slushies, bro, I did not pee myself. I’m sick of this, turn off this trash ass game-” “It’s ok, babe. I’ll protect you, I’m your Leon.” Martin waves a blushing Hamzah over, “Yeah, come on you big baby. It’s not even that scary-wait don’t go in there-“

vacation

Hamzah had convinced you to create your own channel, due to the growing comments begging him to convince you to do so. You hadn’t expected much, but it’d at least be a nice way to share sweet memories between the two of you. The vlog starts with you sat in front of your vanity, as you complete your routine. You talk animatedly about the vacation you’re on with your boyfriend, mentioning the beautiful sights you’ve seen and the delicious food you’ve had so far. You don’t notice but Hamzah walks into the room, quietly sneaking into view when he notices you’re filming. He’s too sweet to scare you on purpose, so he only places the bag of food in front of you and waves towards the camera, “Hiii, it’s me, Hamzah. Remember me?” You push him out of frame, “Ew, get your big head out of here!” The bottom half of his body remains in frame as you look up at him from the seat, “What?! This is how youtubers act behind the camera guys, leave hate comments below, please.” He leans down to be to your level, staring longingly as you get ready. He imagines this is how it feels to watch art being made. You don’t notice his blatant staring, “Tell them how nice it is here.” He’s pulled out of his thoughts with your voice, “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. Think we’ll bring our kids here cause kids like beaches. Right?” You both seem to forget the camera is even there as you turn to him, “We should take them to Legoland.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Really? That’s the best you got?” You give him a side eye that makes him laugh harder, “Ok, get out, this is my video.” Hamzah only waves at the camera before giving you a gentle kiss on top of your head and leaving. It’s barely in frame, but it’s enough to show the burning warmth he holds for you.

[rogueddie]

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

OMG no way are you going to write an AU of Daemon's visions at Harrenhal??? I know its AAAAAGES away from where you are in the current story but desperate hos wanna kno ;)

Ask, and ye shall receive!

until i bleed myself dry

Note: This is technically using the characters/characterisation I have established in my terms of endearment series, but really you only need to know that the Reader is Rhaenyra's younger sister and that, instead of marrying Laena, he spent a decade ho-ing it up in Pentos before coming home and getting dazzled by his niece before deciding to wife dat gurl.

WARNING: Please note this is dark, dark stuff. Discretion is advised. Please use your judgement wisely before engaging.

Triggers: graphic depictions of violence, violence against children, character d*ath, MAJOR hallucinations, sexual scenes including visibly underaged character/s.

There is something fucking wrong with this place.

Daemon feels like a skittish child as he withdraws to his chambers, covers drawn up to his neck like the fabric will keep away the very worst of midnight evils. He does not know if the steady drip, drip, drip he hears is in his head or if the stone ceiling is cracked enough to let through the rain. Knowing Harrenhal, he would hardly be surprised by the latter. Still, the noise only serves to speed the racing of his thoughts, turning them fearful as he has not felt since the weakness of his youth.

In this moment, he curses his own doings. If he had stayed his hand—if he had held his tongue—the boy would not be dead, and mayhaps you would not be so wroth with him. He would not be alone in this shithole of a keep a world away, chilled to the bone and miserable as he thinks of you warm and safe in your bed with the children. Without him.

When he finally falls asleep, he dreams.

He knows it is a dream, for he can hear your humming. Soft, sweet, the kind of tune you sing to Daeryx after one of his tantrums. His head lifts from the pillow and he finds himself back in your shared rooms on Dragonstone, eyes finding you in the chair by the hearth. Your hair, unbound, shines like molten amber in the firelight, swaying softly as you tend to business that is concealed from his gaze. Enthralled, he rises, making his way to you.

Drip, drip, drip.

He pauses. That sound… it doesn’t belong here. He calls your name. You ignore him. He moves closer, tentative.

“Come look,” you murmur suddenly, startling him. “Come, kepus.”

His feet move unbidden, out of his control.

Bile pools at the back of his throat, gut curdling at the sight of the boy—the boy—cradled in your lap. You and he are wet with blood, and it drip, drip, drips to the floor, echoing eerily. His eyes are open, face petrified, and Daemon realises that the dark at his neck is not in fact a shadow but a gaping wound, made jagged by the weapon used.

You look up at him, skin shining with sweat and expression exultant. “Look at him, kepus. Look at what you made.”

Memory flashes—he brings his son back down to rest beside his daughter on your lap, two moonshine miracles side by side. “Look at them, kepus,” you whisper, spellbound. “Look at what we made”—and his lungs constrict. You make to lift the child up, but the movement jostles his head off its perch, and it rolls to the ground to stop by his feet. He cannot move. He is frozen, horrified.

You smile, tucking the headless corpse under your chin. Gore pulses against your throat as your chin settles to the yawning maw of the child’s open neck. You rock in your seat, a faint squelch each time your shifting weight disturbs the sodden cushion beneath you.

“I love him,” you whisper, lips pressing to where flesh meets innards. Your mouth comes away red. “I love him so much.”

Daemon awakens with a yell. He swallows once, twice, and then—

He leans over the side of the bed, retching violently. When it is over, he curls up on his side, shaking, staring at his hands. They are wet with blood.

It does not take long for terror to settle in his bones like a longtime companion. It follows him each day, in every waking moment, manifesting in strange visions that he knows—he knows—must be untrue, cannot possibly be real, and yet… And yet. There is a sort of verity in them.

Dark Sister feels like a leaden weight at his hip as he stalks the keep, a reminder of his earlier encounter with Rhaenyra. Only she was not the Rhaenyra he knows, and instead a strange sort of blend of child-queen, the face of the girl peering out accusingly from under her father’s too-large crown, exclaiming all manner of hurt as she stepped from the Iron Throne upon which she perched.

“You put me on that throne. And you love me, and you hate me for it. You created me, Daemon. Yet you are now set on destroying me. All because your brother loved me more than he did you.”

And, without warning, he had taken his blade up in arms and struck off her head, a puppet on strings pulled by another. As her body fell, it morphed into the boy again. Jaehaerys. The child he had murdered. He heard your humming even while Simon Strong’s voice filtered through his unconscious mind, alerting him of the raven that just arrived.

The healer woman’s concoctions have helped little. He still wakes to strange noises, still finds himself stalking after his monstrous one-eyed nephew down the halls, only to find that it is himself he is pursuing. He hears the words you yelled at him in that last great quarrel— “get away, leave before you turn on us and murder us like you murdered that boy”—interspersed with the sound of your screams, and perhaps they are the screams you let out when birthing his children, or perhaps they are screams of a different kind, a version of himself making good on the implication of your words, steel in hand and pursuing his love, his life, his blood—

These figments blur with reality to the point that he becomes unsure of what is before him and what exists only in his head to haunt him. He comes to dread the resting hours, only to find their horrors bleeding into daylight. Whatever strange power has come to roost in his mind serves only to bring him torment.

Perhaps this is why he is not immediately suspicious when he comes face-to-face with you once more.

You stand by the window, the dim light filtering weakly over your bare form. Your back is to him, curls spilling to brush the tops of your buttocks. Their gentle sway—the barest kiss to your skin—is tantalising, and his mouth dries even as he watches your neck crane, sly smile tossed back over your shoulder at him.

“Daemon,” you beckon. Like a cuntstruck fool, he is helpless to resist the call.

His hands settle to the familiar divots of your waist, up and up and up to cup the fullness of your tits. You lean into him, a quiet huff of pleasure escaping as his fingers squeeze and his lips fall unbidden to the slope of your jaw. He inhales deeply, stirred even now by the simplicity of your scent, a throbbing line straight to his groin. You turn in his hold, nose nuzzling against his chin.

“You were right,” you say, eyes shining. “You were always right.”

He is under some enchantment, surely, for he is incapable of coherent speech. All he can do is feel the satisfaction heat his veins, allow it to tug at the corner of his mouth. I knew it, he thinks. I knew her will would bend eventually.

You speak still, even as he backs you toward the bed. “Papa was weak. Rhaenyra is weak. Only you are the true blood of the dragon.”

You shift backward onto the mattress, legs parting invitingly. The split of you opens, revealing flushed folds and the teasing glimmer of want, shining slick for his hungered gaze.

“Fearless”—your hand trails down your belly, fingers tracing around your pearl—“brave”—you venture lower, pressing teasingly at your cunt, your lip caught between your teeth—“strong.”

Daemon drops to his knees before you, tongue licking through the spill and catching on your finger. He bullies it out of the way, arms locking around your thighs as he gluts himself on the sweet tang of you, senses clouding and narrowing to a singular point of existence. You grip his hair, the arches of your feet digging against his back.

“It is not my place to question you,” you breathe, twisting and writhing with his ministrations. He watches your face, enraptured by the toss of your head and the shape of your lips as they form moan after moan. Your release is quick, a final sobbing yelp followed by a flood of slick warmth. When your eyes reopen, they are blazing with reverence. Reverence for him. Your knees flex up, your lower half folded almost to your chest. Your cunt contracts, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. “I live to serve you, my king.”

His head feels heavy as he rises just barely to crawl over you. He frowns. When he lifts his hand to extricate yours from his hair, he finds not flesh, but cool metal. A crown.

“My king,” you coo below him.

Your surroundings are changed. It is not the meagre offerings of Harrenhal that frame you now, but the sumptuous trimmings of the king’s chambers in the Red Keep, only brighter, more lavish than they ever have been. Jewels sparkle at your throat, in your hair, at your wrists. The sheets are molten gold against your silver-pale, and you wind your hips up at him provocatively, catching his cockhead against your opening.

“You belong on the throne, husband,” you say, fist closing around his shaft and pumping once, twice. You lead him back to the core of you, nudging him just inside. “Uncle. My love. And I belong at your side—at your feet—under your body.”

“My queen,” he gasps, driving forward with a grunt, and oh, he has missed you, missed this, missed the clutch of your walls like a mother’s embrace and the sound of your breathy cries as he plunges deep. Plunges home.

“My king,” you call out, rising into him with unrestrained abandon, precious gems clinking frantically with each fevered hitch of his hips against yours. “My lord. My master. I was made for you.”

“Yes…”

“Chain me to this bed, my king.” Your spine arches toward him, hands grabbing for his own and leading them above your head. He takes this for the encouragement it is, pinning your wrists to the pillow and rutting harder. You shout, elbows flexing to no avail. “Give to me my purpose. Give me your heirs.”

He is helpless to stop the noises escaping his mouth, feral and uninhibited, fucking with near painful intent. You take it all, curving yourself deeper, holding yourself more open so that he may lay claim to his conquest. As only a king can.

“And when I have birthed one,” you say, though now it is more a prolonged keening sound, “give me another. Never stop. Oh! Make me—make me take it—”

He does not know if he is imagining it or if it is happening before his eyes, but he can see it: ruling the Seven Kingdoms, sitting the Iron Throne the way his brother never could, striding down the halls of the keep as the commons bow and scrape to their sovereign, bursting into his chambers after small council to find his queen, to find you where you always are, naked in his bed and belly round and leaking milky white between your thighs, for it is his kingly law that the only part you play here is this, waiting for him to find you and fuck you and fill you and keep you, his little niecewifequeenpet—

He snarls, pulsing and burning. You squeal as he pushes past onslaught and straight to violence, bodies colliding so forcefully that his bones ache and his brain feels like jelly wobbling in his skull. What leaves his mouth can only be bestial in nature now. “I’ll make you—”

“Yes, make me take it until I cannot. Until my cunt is ruined by you.” He feels his end rushing up with every word you wail, his joints locking and grinding and gut roiling with the anticipation of it. “Until my womb is destroyed. Until I bleed myself dry, my king. Only for you.”

“Wha—”

The horror of it escapes him, for it is too late: the release crashes on him like a tidal wave, shoving him below its surface and imprisoning him in its current. He makes a noise like a wounded boar, chasing through the high despite the alarm in his mind, so at odds with the soaring rhythm in his loins.

You laugh, tilting welcomingly to receive him. “Make me bleed, my king. Make me bleed like my mother.”

It is enough to chill the heat in his blood to ice, destroying any semblance of enjoyment. But he cannot stop the unsteady eking out of what remains of his peak. He tries, but he cannot stop.

“No,” he says, a contradiction to the enthusiasm of his flesh prison. “No, no, I cannot. No—”

“What do you mean?” you ask, a strange quality to it. A duality. It crystallises into something comprehensible with every word that comes from your lips. All at once, it is not your voice he hears, but something much higher, younger, blending and overlapping with the cadence he recognises. “You already have.”

He looks down as he makes his final groaning thrusts, only to feel his stomach drop through the floor. Your thighs are soaked in blood, his cock sluicing a path through it all the while. All that flesh covered in red, and he glances up, only to see that you are gone, you are replaced by someone so small, so frightfully small, and he realises you are not replaced, it is you, but it is a you he has not seen for well over ten years, eyes wide and frightened and gleaming like game stuck through by an arrow and taking its final breath.

Daemon rears back, but it is too late. You begin to cry. A dark patch spreads out from underneath your broken body, from where he had torn your fragile opening apart. What have I done? he thinks.

“It hurts, kepus,” you say. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, fixed to stillness by revulsion. “I’m sorry. I never meant to—”

“But you did,” you insist, childish pout despite your obvious agony.

Your hands reach out, and he leans away, too horrified to touch you—and he doesn’t know if it is you or he that he is more afraid of in this moment—but you are not searching through the air for him, no. Instead, a bundled weight is settled in them, and you bring it into the crook of your arms, gripping it as though it is the most precious of objects. You smooth the fabric from the top of it to reveal a tiny head of silver hair. The babe gurgles and roots at your flat chest, absurd and awful.

“This is what you wanted,” you say, eyes filled with betrayal. “Am I going to die now, kepus?”

Your Grace…

He shakes his head, but he is no fool. You are too little to withstand the sheer volume of blood you have lost if the bedding is anything to go by. He feels it stain his legs. He feels it drying on his cock.

“Your Grace?”

“I will, though. I’m too young. You’ve killed me.” The babe begins to suckle, and you cry harder. Your body isn’t built for this task, not yet, not like this. He wants to protest, to tell you that this is not his work, cannot be, for he has and would never do something so foul, so wholly inhuman, that the you he has gotten with child has only ever been a woman grown, but it is like you know his thoughts for you scoff and say, “You’re lying to yourself. I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He stares down at you, immobile, unable to even think. The metallic scent of your life leaving you fills the air, floods his nostrils with stinging heat.

“… Your Grace?”

Daemon jolts, blinking. Ser Simon Strong looks back at him. “Is the duck not to your liking, Your Grace?”

All at once, you are gone. The king’s chambers are gone. He is not even within his dank chambers at Harrenhal. Instead, he sits at the table in what passes for the dining hall here, a plate full of food steaming before him. The smell makes him ill.

“There’s also goose, if you’d prefer…”

He swallows, trying to ground himself in the present. Voices waft all around him, but he finds it difficult to pay attention.

“I’m not hungry,” he says shortly. It sounds stronger than he feels.

A pause, and then—

Simon clears his throat, turning to his companions. “I was saying, given the rather dire news…”

Daemon tries to concentrate. He does. He knows the others are speaking of matters of utmost importance. Of  Rook’s Rest, of his nephew, of the war. But his mind can only turn over his encounter—his vision? His nightmare? Or is it merely truth finally unveiled to unworthy eyes?—with you, the last of your words haunting him near to madness.

“I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He has grown restless here, revolving between the frustration of securing an army from those who see naught in him but the very worst and the torment of these terrible visions that seek him out at their pleasure, heedless of his duty or desire. Tedium or terror—when he is entrenched in one, he wishes for the other, and there is always a sick sort of irony in the granting of said wishes. In truth, he is able enough to tolerate the resistance of these riverlanders, insulting as it is. The phantasms that pursue him have almost become too much to bear.

What is worse? The accusations from the mouth of a juvenile Rhaenyra, full of admonishments for the way he’d so thoroughly undermined her claim before she ever got the right to exercise it? The condemnations from Viserys, a retracing of steps trod so long ago, brought to life once more and forcing Daemon to relive the very worst of his brother? The boy’s laughter darting through the stone halls, an ominous prelude to the sickening sound of steel sawing through skin and the rolling of his head, landing always at the feet of the one responsible for his fate?

They are all bad enough as they are, but for the simple fact that they do not surprise him. Monster, they call him, and he wears the name well. In most all aspects, he is a monster. But never has he thought himself monstrous to you.

He has come to despise the sight of you here, sometimes docile and worshipful, sometimes angered and raving. Sometimes you appear as a siren come to lure him to iniquity, and like a fool he always falls into the trap. Other times, you are battered, caged, a shell of yourself. No matter how it begins, the end is always the same: bloodied, beaten, fading from the world, and it is always his hands he finds the cause of it in. A new reminder every time of all the ways he has thought of taking you, owning you, keeping you. Always, he thinks to save you—to protect you. Always, he destroys you.

Just as he thinks himself finally driven to the edge of all reason, the Rivers woman beckons him to the godswood.

“When you came here,” she says, “you were a closed fist. You wished to bend the world to your will. But you’ve discovered, I think, that… this world will not be governed. There are omens here for those who seek them.”

She pauses. The air seems to whisper, to creak in the dark. Daemon suppresses the urge to shiver. Her eyes move to him, an odd little quirk to her mouth. Amusement, he thinks. Or pity.

“You do not scoff?” she asks.

How can he, after all he has seen here? He has been brought to the very edge of sanity by these omens. What irony, it is, after the great complaints he has made of superstition in past weeks (and months, and years).

“I’m no longer inclined to,” is his short reply.

She laughs. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

She stops before the heart tree and turns to him, expression solemn.

“Do you wish, then, to learn what is given to you?” The answer must lie in his face, for he cannot do anything but stare, silent, tense. “All your life, you have sought to command your own fate”—she takes his hand—“but today, you are ready.”

Gentle pressure at his wrist, and something in him knows to move past her, to take those final few steps so that he is close enough to make out the details of the face carved into the wood. His arm raises by itself, acting on its own power, or perhaps some higher power, his fingers brushing bark and the hot pulse of… blood? But he has no time to truly question it for—

He is flying—

No—

He is a raven, staring at the face of a pale-haired man with a wine-dark stain on his face and he flies into the forest, towards an army, only there is something wrong with the soldiers, they are blue and their eyes glow ice-cold and their breath is frosted with death and their bodies carry the look of corpses stood upright once more—

And then the dragons are dead, all of them, the ground wet not with water but with blood and he walks through it, falls straight into the ground and he is drowning, steel plate armour dragging him down into the depths and he looks up at the sky—

A red comet bursts through the air, hot like fire, and he sees eggs embroiled in flame, a girl sat in ash cradling the bodies of three newly-hatched dragons, a whisper of a memory on the air, “we are the only ones able to bring the fire to life… It is the secret”—

And he is before the Iron Throne, suddenly silent.

Rhaenyra stands before the seat. Viserys’s crown is in his hands. She moves toward him, down the stairs of the throne. He hears her speak.

“From my blood…”

But she does not finish. A roaring conflagration engulfs her and she screams, twisting and warping before him, burning, only not, because you step from the flames, unburnt, voice mingling with that of your sister’s, a haunting echo.

“… come the Prince Who Was Promised…”

You are before him, taking the crown from his grasp and retracing the steps your sister took, and then you are stepping over a charred body, Rhaenyra, oh gods, and ascending the steps. You sit. You lift the crown. You place it on your head.

“… and his shall be the song of ice and fire.”

He is on his knees now, right on that final step at your feet. He feels the warmth of you as you bend forward, your palm caressing his jaw. You look otherworldly in the shadow, backlit silver and gold and wearing a king’s accoutrements far better than any of your predecessors.

“You know what must happen now, Uncle,” you say gently, kindly. “You know what you must do.”

He bows his head to kiss your ring—the seal of the king—no, the queen—and then wind is whistling in his ears, chilling him to the bone and spraying his hair about wildly, so much so that he can barely hear the words yelled at him by the boy sitting astride Vhagar.

“You have lived too long, nuncle.”

—and he wrenches away, panting, body collapsing before the heart tree like a puppet with its strings cut. The world comes back to him in fragments: the scent of dirt and woodlands, the sharp sting of cold, the ache in his muscles that has since settled like sludge at the bottom of a river, ever-present and persisting. Finally, finally, he withdraws with hands washed clean, free of his many sins.

At last, he has come to the crux of it. At last, he understands.

He sits at the base of the tree, stunned and overcome, as faint words slither on the breeze, a final knell from the liminal space of prophecy. Your name. A cheer.

“Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”

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[onlinedolly]

SAVIOR COMPLEX 2

au where leon has a pretty little captive he thinks he’s saved

cw: manipulative leon, drug use, p in mouth, slight degradation, mentions of cum, obsessive leon, i think dats it folks

an: not proof read guys don’t kill me…..also this is dark/dd:dne content if you don’t like any of the tags above mentioned please do not partake in my content. as always MDNI!

Leon in his mind, was a perfect, downright good man. He was the star of his force, helped countless people a day, and saved you. Leon had swooped down and rescued you as if you were a baby bird with a clipped wing (at least that’s how he looked at it). And since then, the past four months in his home, Leon had never been so far on cloud nine.

People at work noticed, pushing into him and laughing asking if he had a woman at home that finally got that chip off his shoulder. And Leon would laugh and retort that he had ‘something like that.’

You were the definition of perfect, doe eyed and sweet waiting for him the waltz through the door like he always did and wrap you up in a big hug. It’d been a little over a few weeks since he let you free roam the home, trusting you since the outbursts had died down due to the pills he had you on.

When Leon got home that evening you were waiting by the door per usual as you heard the multiple locks turn. He came through the door smiling when he saw your tinier frame.

“Today was rough baby, come give me a hug, hm?” He spoke, holding his arms out as you wrapped yourself around him.

“Bet it was,” You spoke back, pliant and kind as ever, “I made dinner.” Leon could smell it then, the waft of spices flowing into the entry way.

“What a good, sweet, thing.” He smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Dinner went like it usually did, with Leon filling your head with all of the gruesome details of the day. “Bet you’re glad you’re here, yeah?” He always asked after he was finished which caused you to nod your head eagerly.

You were a kind thing, he knows he says that a lot, but it’s true. Always had dinner on the table, listened to him so eagerly as he talked and winched when he told you about the death he witnessed at work. And maybe, okay, Leon stretched the truth a bit. A majority of his day was actually filled with paper work and a minor domestic case that came down to a misunderstanding, but you didn’t need to know that.

After dinner, like always, like a good girl, you open your mouth wide as Leon places the pills onto your tongue, shoving his fingers into the back of your throat slightly making you gag. You swallow them dry before looking up at him with a hazy love filled look. He grabs your face between his big hand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your glossy lips.

“Why don’t we watch a movie, yeah? You pick tonight.” He spoke when he pulled away, running his fingers through your hair.

Like a good girl you nod eagerly pulling him upstairs into his bedroom (where you always ‘watched movies’), Leon laughing and following along.

Once up to his room you put a movie on, one Leon didn’t particularly care about, as you climb into the bed next to him, curling up. He smiles, places his hand around your hip and he pretends to listen to whatever nonsense was playing on the screen. His big hand made circles into your hip causing you to mewl under his touch.

“Missed you so much today sweet girl,” He spoke, gripping your hip a little tighter as you let out a shiver at his touch.

“Missed you,” You spoke dismissively, too intrigued on the movie in front of you.

“Sounds like you didn’t miss me too bad,” Leon spoke, referring to the way you were more inclined to watch the movie then talk to the man who saved you.

You gasp, “I missed you terribly, you gotta believe me.” You spoke out, looking up at him with glossy eyes. So well trained, he thought to himself. He loved the way you shook like a dog at the slightest inclination that Leon seemed upset.

“Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?” He spoke, pulling you closer to him by your hip. You knew what that meant, what Leon wanted when he asked that question, and before Leon could repeat himself you had his belt buckle in your hand.

“What a dirty thing,” Leon degraded, leaning back in the bed as you fumbled around with his belt. After a few moments you moved on to his pants, letting him lift himself up as you worked them down his legs. His cock sprung out, hot and angry as you immediately took it into your hands.

“Shit, not that hard baby, tryin’ to kill your old man or somethin?” He speaks running his fingers through your hair and pulling. You ease up on your touch, stroking him slowly at first until he quips an eyebrow at you causing you to pick your pace up.

“God—“ He groans, pulling harder on your hair as you wince in pain, “Feels so fucking good, baby, put your mouth on it. Don’t leave me hangin’.” He speaks out, tapping your jaw as you open your mouth and place your glossy lips around his tip. “That’s more like it, baby. *Good.*” He groans out, running his hand down your neck and back and you begin bobbing yourself up and down on his cock.

You choke a bit, still a little inexperienced, as you attempt to take his full length. Leon was big and thick, making it hard to fully take him down your throat. Leon’s a moaning mess underneath you as you bob your head up and down on his cock, hollowing your cheeks out which earns a deep groan from him.

Leon, unlike his words was a rough man, groping your tits and pulling your hair as he begins to rock his hips into your mouth, laughing a bit as you gag around his cock.

“Sweet thing, can barely take it all, hm?” He pushes further into your mouth as he says it, pushing past the ring in the back of your throat making you sob. You feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out all at once, but oh so determined you still sucked him down greedily, massaging his balls in your small soft hands.

Leon had never felt so blessed to have a thing like you as he shoves your head down, his bush tickling your nose. He was going to cum soon, you could feel it in the way his hips stuttered, his pace into your mouth quickening and becoming sloppier.

When he cums he pushes your head all the way down and you feel the liquid spurt down your throat as you choke and cry out. You’re forced to swallow like always, as Leon smushes your face down against his pelvic bone.

“That’s it baby, take it all like a good girl,” He growls out.

Once done he yanks your head up by your hair roughly and you whine as he grabs your face with a big hand, “Betcha your so glad I took you in, hm? Where else you gunna get dick like me babydoll?”

Your voice is hoarse and comes out as barely a whisper as you speak out, “N-nowhere sir.” You whine out, falling into his body in exhaustion as he lets go of your head, wrapping his big arms around you.

“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” He whispers as he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

“The bestest.” You whisper back, falling fast asleep into Leon’s arms.

Leon was a downright, honest-to-good man, a star in his force, and the man who picked you up and saved you.

[raya-hunter01]

The Christmas Present

One-shot

PAIRING:  Roman reigns x OC Starr

Word Count: 5,832

Warning: Smut

What do you do when your bestfriend you've known all of your life tells you he wants to unwrap you for christmas and you've always wanted him to be your first?

Sorry this one was late, it was requested months ago and i'm finally working through requests in my inbox. Happy New Year everyone

As I made my way inside, I felt somewhat out of place as it seemed I had walked into a tense situation as Jey guided me further into the house. I already was two hours late because I had to help my mom wrap some gifts for my niece.

“Jey, who was that yelling before you opened the door?” I asked. “Just Sarah acting a damn fool,” he said continuing to guide me through the beautiful two-story home.

“Wait…Sarah, as in Roman’s cheating ass ex…Roman told me she was history.”

“Oh, she is…..Has been for about months but won’t take the hint.”

 Everything seemed calmer now that I was inside, as Christmas music filled the room, and everyone seemed to be in their own world.

Seeing a few familiar faces, I waved but stayed close to Jey as my eyes scanned the room finally spotting Roman and Sarah talking in the corner.

His stoic expression and powerful stance made many nervous but not me. I could tell he wasn’t pleased she had crashed his party but was trying to be respectful.

“How is he really doing, Jey?” I asked as he sighed looking at his cousin shaking his head. “He’s on edge you know, especially with the back-to-back losses. Big Uce, is getting better though.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make Alfa’s funeral; I wanted to be there.” I said looking at my best friend really taking him in. He looked so tired, his beautiful beard more full and now had spots of gray.

“Starr, stop that…..You came home to be with us for Uncle Sika’s funeral, stood in the gap for me and was there for big Uce.”

“Hey, that’s what family does,” I assured him giving him a hug.

“I’m glad you home, we be worried about you.” he whispered as I caressed his back.

“I’m fine, besides I didn’t re-enlist this time, twenty years in the Airforce is enough,” I said as Jey held me tighter.

“I am so happy for you…I know he's gon’ be happy you back home. I mean it is for good right?”

“Yea, I’m home for good.”

“Good, cause that beautiful house you bought deserves to be lived in.”

“I know and thank ya’ll for helping mama keep it up for me.”

“You know dat wasn’t a problem. We were just worried about you all the way over in Italy by yourself.”

“I know but at least I’m home now.”

I knew how much they worried about me, but I was so thankful they supported my decisions. We had all been inseparable since the age of five, so it was a big change when we all graduated, and all went our separate ways.

The twins and Roman went off to college and I went into the Airforce following in my father’s footsteps. What can I say, we were some ambitious young people with the world at our fingertips.

“Booger we missed you!” Jimmy yelled, pulling me out of Jey’s arms scooping me up in a hug bear hug as I rolled my eyes.

“Ugh get off me, you just always have to bring up that mean ass nickname,” I hissed as he put me down laughing.

“Ignore him, you know he’s special,” Trin jokes slapping him on the shoulder as Jey cleared his throat trying to stop laughing.

“Aye, it ain’t my fault she kept a booger nose when we were kids.”

“Just like it ain’t my fault your bed stayed pissy when we were kids,” I countered as Jey and Trin busted out laughing.

“Daaaammmn! She got yo’ ass.” Jey laughed as Trin, and I embraced.

Our banter cut short as we heard Roman raising his voice. “Look just leave, Sarah!”

“I ain’t leaving without you! We can work this out!” she screamed as I looked at Trin and she shook her head as Jey’s wife Candice came over.

“Can you believe this shit?” she asked as Jey pulled her close and kissed her on the temple.  “Bae, let it go.”

“I mean how you cheat on somebody and now you here begging like ain’t shit happened?” Trin asked as I shook my head as Jimmy tapped me on the shoulder gently.

“What do you have in mind, sis. I see you thinking over there?”

“I’m gonna get Roman outta here, maybe have him take me home so he can get a break,” I said looking at my watch realizing it was close to 11 :00 anyway.

“You do that, and we will get her outta here, then shut down the party and lock up,” Trin said as I left them heading towards the ex-couple.

The look of happiness on Roman’s face when he spotted me made me smile as he ignored Sarah, scooping me up in his arms as soon as I was within arm’s reach.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home,” he whispered in my ear as I chuckled. “What’s the fun in that, now come take me home..I want to give you your Christmas present” I whispered feeling the tension leaving his body.

“Shit, I been ready for that.…let’s go, you ain't gotta tell me twice,” Roman said ignoring Sarah putting me down as Jey tapped her on the shoulder.

“Aye, time to go shawty, party is over for you,” he said as she scoffed.

“Wait, so you gon’ throw me out Jey and you leavin’ with her Roman!? Roman…Roman come back!” she screamed as Roman, and I headed towards the backdoor.

---

Roman’s POV

I looked back just in time to see Trin grabbing Sarah by the arm leading her out of the living room. Something tells me that I wouldn’t have a problem with Sarah after tonight by the look on Trin and Candice’s face.

 They both had been looking for a reason to beat her ass since they found out she had cheated on me and was still sniffing around.

I was anxious to be alone with Starr. The last time we were alone we almost crossed a line, there was no coming back from, but we stopped ourselves.

As I helped her in the car, I really didn’t even know how to approach the elephant in the room. Closing her door, I gave myself a pep talk as I walked around to the driver’s side.

“Don’t fuck this up, just be in the moment with her.” If it happens, it happens. If it does or doesn’t nothing changes between ya’ll.”

Four months ago

“Roman we got to stop,” Starr panted as I kissed her neck, my hands roaming her body.

“Why..This what we both want,” I moaned pulling her closer wrapping her legs around my waist grinding against her as she gasped in shock.

“I do but You’ve been drinking, and so much is going on. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Oh, so now it’s something wrong with me because I want to make love to you. You told me, you wanted me to be your first, remember.” I said throwing back a conversation we had months prior.

“Roman, I do but you know right now isn’t the right time. Roman, stop you’re drunk and this isn’t you,” Starr moaned finally pushing me away as I held my hands up in the air in surrender.

She was right.. I didn’t know what had come over me, maybe it was the alcohol and everything that had happened.

“Look, I’m sorry… I’ll just crash in the other room,” I whispered grabbing my shirt not wanting to make the night worse.

“Roman, I want us to ta-”-

“Talk? Is that what you were about to say? Well, I’m tired of talking to people.. I just- I just wanted…. Look forget it, this was obviously a mistake coming here, so I’mma crash in your spare bedroom.”

“Roman, we gotta talk about what all this means, you can’t just turn off your emotions. You got to talk about it,” Starr pleaded as I shut down.

“Look, I buried my dad a few days ago…Things will never be the same for me ever again and I just wanted to be close to you.  I thought you felt the same, and I just made an ass outta myself. What else is there to talk about.”

“I do want - I-I-just not like this, please-”

“Starr, I’ll catch you in the morning before I head out,” I said leaning over kissing her tenderly on the forehead before leaving the room ignoring her pleas for me to stay.

I made a total mess of things that night, but Starr never judged me. We went about things as usual and had never discussed that night. Two weeks ago on the phone she asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I laid it all out on the table.

“I sent your present off today; I hope you like it since you wouldn’t cooperate and give me some idea of what you wanted for Christmas.”

“You ain’t ready to know what I really want for Christmas, especially since you’ve been all I’ve been thinking about for the last four months.”

 “I've been thinking about you too. I wish I could be there in person but I’m still waiting to find out if they approved my leave or not,” Starr said moving around her kitchen as watched her every move.

“ You know what i really want for christmas....

"What?"

"I just want to unwrap you and get lost in you.".

"Roman."

"Aye, you asked and I told you . The shocked look on her face making me shrug my shoulders. Hell I ain’t have nothing to lose at this point. One thing my father's passing taught me was that life was too short, and i'm gonna go after what I want...And I wanted Starr.

“Roman, stop playin’ with me.” Starr stuttered nervously as I chuckled.

“I’m serious, you asked me what I wanted for Christmas.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to tell me that you wanted me as a Christmas present.”

“Even if it’s only one night I can’t imagine a better gift than to get lost in you.”

“Roman-”

"Beautiful tree, fireplace, and you under me writhing in pleasure as I take you to heights you couldn’t dream of,” I groaned hearing her gasp.

“You’re not playing fair, this is dangerous,” she whispered as I smiled.

“I love danger,” I said dropping my voice an octave deeper knowing it was driving her crazy. I knew it was because I knew my Starr.

“Ro-”

“Tell me you ain’t curious, especially after what happened that night? Look just think on it.”  

Man, I still can’t believe I said but it got us here..Well at least I hope. Listening to her hum along with the Christmas songs on the radio brought me out of my thoughts.

“I-I-I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” she sang softly as I felt my heart flutter.

“Alright Miarah Carey,” I joked as she blushed. “Don’t do me, I can carry a little tune.”

“Yea, you can which is why I just let you do your thing,” I said pulling into her garage.

“Oh, you pulling in the garage like you know you staying,” she joked getting out the car as I felt my dick jump in my pants.

“I wouldn’t be against it,” I mumbled getting out following her close. Her phone ringing almost startled her as she sighed picking up.

“Ma’ I just made it home,” she said putting the phone on speaker walking around cutting the lights off downstairs as I unplugged the tree.

“Damn, you meant you weren’t staying long when you said it, huh? Did you get to see everyone?”

I smiled hearing her mom giving her the fifth degree as Starr shook her head.

“Yes, I saw everyone Ma… The guys are fine, matter fact Roman just dropped me off,” Starr said putting her finger over her lips as I chuckled following her upstairs.

“Mama, I’m about to go to bed and I will be over before Riely gets up.”   

As soon as the door closed, I closed the distance between us wrapping my arms around her trying to ease her nerves. “Relax….I gotchu,” I assured her as she blushed.

 I mean it’s one thing to talk on the phone and talk about what you want to do, but to actually do it is another thing. I knew as bad as I wanted to be with her, if she said no I wouldn’t push the issue.

“Roman are we really about to do this,” she whispered looking at me in wonder as I gently kissed her on the forehead.

“Only if you want..I don’t want you to do something you don’t want,” I confessed truly giving her an out even though inside I was pleading with the gods that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

The thought of being the first man to make love to her stirring something primal within me.

“Make yourself comfortable. I got to get outta this dress,” she whispered putting her phone down heading into her master bath putting any questions I had to rest.

“Take all the time you need.”  Heading over to the fireplace, I took my coat off. The beautiful vintage Christmas tree illuminating her bedroom. The ice sickles hanging from the tree with the old school Christmas lights and ornaments were a beautiful touch.  

Starr’s POV

“Ok….Just calm down. This is Roman not some stranger. You’ve wanted this since you were fifteen,” I whispered trying to build up my courage, pulling my dress off and jumping in the shower.

What if I disappoint him…..Fuck, what if he disappoints me?

Who the fuck am I fooling, Roman knows what he’s doing. I’ve seen this man and the shit he does when he’s on TV. What if I get addicted to him, I mean it’s supposed to be one time right?

 My mind instantly thinking back to Sarah, even though she cheated, Roman still has her ass sprung…. Getting out of the shower I was still trying to make heads or tails of the situation I found myself in.

“You ok in there Starr?” Roman's deep voice penetrated the walls as my thighs clenched thinking about him penetrating something else. That damn voice.....Gives me chills...Oouu, I wonder does he talk you through it?

Damn, I’m officially in my brain and nervous as shit now.

“I’m ok, just got out the shower, I’ll be out in a minute,” I said drying off as I heard him move away from the door. Get it together Starr, you a grown ass woman and this is what you both want..Stop making it complicated."

Who am I kidding, it is complicated…I love him…I’ve loved him since high school…”Yea, this is a bad idea,” whined quietly before taking a deep breath up because even if it was a bad idea, there was no turning back now.

After putting on some lotion I tied one of the red satin Christmas bow sashes I had ordered around my breasts and another around my hips. Yea, I wanted him to get the full picture of unwrapping me from top to bottom.

Slipping on my robe I came out to see him sitting on the edge of the bed admiring the tree.  “I turned on the fireplace.”

“Um, thanks. The bathrooms all yours.” I almost forgot to breathe as he stood up and took his shirt off.

“Thanks, beautiful. I promise I won’t take long,” he said dropping a tender kiss on my forehead before going in the bathroom. I finally released the breath I was holding when he closed the door, and I heard the shower start.

Taking off my robe, I turned the covers down. “It’s a night of fun…Just enjoy, don’t think.” I kept repeating to myself over and over as I laid on my side and faced the bathroom patiently waiting for Roman…I mean good things do come to those that wait.

Hearing the water cut off, I sat up on my knees anxiously waiting for him. A newfound confidence took over me as the door opened and I heard his sharp intake of breath as he stood there clad in only a towel. His body still glistening, and hair wet.

“Damn, you look so beautiful,” he whispered licking his lips as I bit my lower lip nervously.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered reaching my hand out to him as he slowly made his way towards me dropping his towel.

Oh…My…God..He is a Greek God…Keep your cool Starr.

“Are you sure?” he asked his voice thick with need as I blushed only pulling him closer truly taking in all of him for the first time.

“I don’t want you to fe”-

Grasping his hands I placed them on the satin bow, my eyes never leaving his. “I want this, and I want it to be you.”

I couldn’t help but moan as I watched him through hooded eyes. “Just let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispered, our lips finally touching and like a moth to a flame I surrendered. The unbridled passion behind it taking my breath away.

“Unwrap your Christmas gift, Roman,” I whispered as his hands touched the satin red bow, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes trailed over my body.

The fact he was so turned on and unsure where to start made my heart race. The sexy deep groan his that spilled from his lips as my hips moved against him made my pussy purr in need.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this…Anxious to give yourself to me.”

His voice…Oh my god his voice.

“Please, Roman,” I pleaded as he licked his lips. “Can I unwrap my Christmas present,” he murmured as I nodded anxiously.

“Use your words… Can I have my Christmas present now?”

“Yes, you can,” I gasped as he finally untied the sash. Leaning down, his mouth enclosing around my breasts, taking his time exploring each one as I squirmed beneath him ready to come undone from the sensual action as his eyes never left mine.

“Mmhm, I knew you were sensitive. Bet you so wet,” he rasped. Moaning softly, I entangled my fingers in his hair as he feasted upon my breasts seemingly determined to stay there having discovered how sensitive I was.

“Roman, I need it,” I pleaded. His hands cupping my breasts kneading them together as he took both nipples in his mouth devouring them as if they were his last supper. His gaze still piercing my soul.

“Fuck, just thinkin’ bout you, got me bout to cum?” he mumbled as his mouth continued to ignite a deep fire within me as his kisses move passed me stomach, his tongue swirling, then dipping inside my navel.

“Go lower, please.”

“You taste so good, baby.” He praised, as I writhed beneath him. Hand hands masterfully untying the second red satin bow leaving me now fully exposed.

“Merry Christmas to me,” I faintly heard him whisper, the first stroke of his long tongue against my pussy almost making me cum as I gasped looking down at him in shock.

“Roman!” Shit he’s dangerous, that was just one stroke. Watching him flatten his tongue, with each long stroke I became more undone.

 “Umhm, it’s Roman and I’mma bout to make you cum all night. Now hold dem legs for me,” he commanded bending them towards my chest as I compiled.

Roman’s POV

The quiver in her legs and pleasure etched across her face as I made love to Starr with my tongue will the imprinted in my mind forever.

The strangled whine that escaped her beautiful lips as I began thrusting my third and forefinger along with my tongue continuously stroking her, ignited a deeper purpose within me….

To blow her fucking mind… For her to feel what it was like to be with me…Hell, to ruin her for every man after me that would even dare try to have her writhing under them in pleasure.

“You gon’ cum sweetness?” Yea, that’s her new nickname from now on..Pussy sweet like honey.

“Yes, I’mma cum…. Ooouu, right there..Right there….Fuck, just like that, Roman, don’t stop,” Starr cried as my fingers and tongue moved in sync determined to make her cum harder than she ever has.

“Yes! Oh, fuck Roman!” Starr screamed, her legs falling onto my shoulders as her back arched in pleasure satisfying my thirst for the moment.

Fuck, I love a good squirter… “Good fuckin’ girl,” I praised, removing my fingers, grasping her hips, wanting more…I needed more.

“Roman!” Starr squealed as I flipped her over onto her knees spreading her legs slightly.

“What are y-”

The words dying across her tantalizing lips as I laid between her legs on my back straight Salivating at the sight of her dripping pussy above me. “I want you to sit on my face and I want you to nut like you ain’t never nutted before,” I commanded as she looked apprehensive.

“Roman, I’m too bi-”

Not giving her a chance to finish her that thought I pulled her onto my face moaning in appreciation as she began to wind her hips slowly.

“Is this what you wanted?” she gasped, planting her hands on my stomach beginning to ride my face with more confidence, chasing the nut she craved.

“Fuck yea, this what I wanted.” I moaned against her pussy smackin’ her ass before getting back to business.

Starr’s POV

The feral growl that fell from Roman’s lips as I rode his face sent chills down my spine. His beard, mouth and tongue all together were kryptonite.

His dick standing at attention, glistening with precum and begging to be sucked wasn’t helping my thoughts either. It was too tempting; I needed to taste him.

Moaning, I leaned down licking the sensitive mushroom shaped head as Roman hissed tearing his mouth away from my pussy.

“Gon’ put it in your mouth, Starr. Don’t be scared, suckdat dick.” His words making my body tingle in excitement as he continued his assault on my pussy with his masterful tongue.

I wanted to see how much of him I could take in my mouth and with each strategic bobbly of my head, I took him deeper as Roman nearly bucked me off his face…

Got’em….I may be a virgin, but I got some secrets myself.

 “Fuck, that’s how you get down?” he groaned momentarily stopping his assault.

 “Mmhm, surprise,” I whispered after coming up for air briefly before getting back to the task at hand as he growled, “Fuck," before diving back in himself as our moans filling the air.

Suddenly I began to feel that familiar coil gathering in my stomach, my body tingling all over. Releasing his dick from my mouth, I sat up and began riding his face with a purpose.

“Yea, take whatchu want from me, sweetness,” he moaned gripping my hips, moving me faster as my legs began to shake reducing me to a chanting mess..

“Oouu, Roman- Yesyesyes,” I moaned stroking him faster in sync with my hips.  His beard, mouth and tongue had me on demon time and he knew it.

 “Give it to me,” Roman growled as I came undone. “Roman! Fuck..f-f-fuck here it comes,” I cried at my body exploded coating his face with my juices as he happily and greedily drank. 

“Mmhm, I love that shit, tastin’ so fuckin’ sweet…. Sweetness gon’ be your new nickname, baby girl.” I heard him whisper between slurps as I indeed had cum harder than I ever had before, still continuing to stroke him riding out my high.

I was euphorically drunk on him, but I wanted him to feel just as good as he had made me feel. Catching my breath, I leaned down taking him once again in my mouth.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna cum yet,” Roman groaned as I turned, kneeling between his legs.

Oh sir, you put that mouth on me like that…You about to get this nut…..Period.

Steadying my hands on his welcoming thighs as I tended to the task at hand,innocently staring up at him. “Yea….Take it all for me..Fuck that feels so good. You’re such a good girl.”

Humming in agreement, I refused to stop sucking him tortuously slowly and deeply as he gripped my hair.

“Suck dat shit, girl…..Damn.” Roman groaned bending his knees, planting his heels, accepting his fate.

“Fuck, here it cum, just for you, sweetness,” he growled cummin' hard.

 I almost came myself watching him. As long as I live, I will remember the look on his face. Cracking a small smile, I opened my mouth for him to see his cum coating my tongue as he bit his lower lip.

“Mmm, does my sweetness spits or swallows?” Roman asked, his deep voice making my pussy drip as he caressed my face, desperate to know my answer to his question. 

“Who says I can’t do both,” I whispered, letting his cum spill from my lips onto his dick as it jumped in response.

“Mmm, my good girl," he whispered watching through hooded eyes.

“Oops I made a mess…..Let me clean up behind myself,” I mumbled once again taking him in my mouth greedily sopping his cum back into my mouth and swallowing it.

“Fuck!” He moaned, his resolve crumbling in a heap. “I’mma fuck da shit outta you,” he professed taking me in a searing kiss that left me breathless and on my back at the foot of the bed before I could blink.

My senses on overloaded as his hands roamed my body “Please, Roman, I need you so bad,” I pleaded as we both looked down at our bodies about to become one as he slipped past my wet folds.

“You sure baby,” he whispered as I nodded pulling him closer. Both of us lost in the moment as he slowly rocked his hips. Suddenly feeling pop and burst of pain.

“UMPH!” I cried, clinging to Roman as he looked at me with indescribable passion in his eyes as we shared a tender kiss.

“Look at my good girl learning how to take my big dick. You doin’ so fuckin’ good,” he moaned grasping my thighs continuing to slowly slip inside deeper inside me.

“Roman, I-I,” I whined, overwhelmed as he caressed my face. His body trembling against mine as he’s fighting an internal battle within himself to take it slow and not lose all control.

 “Mmm, I know it…I know it baby.. God, thank you so much for choosing me,” he whispered showering me with kisses as I relaxed against him.

“I wanted you to be my first,” I gasped, starting to somewhat relax in spite of the pain. “Yea, that’s it, relax beautiful….Your Ro Ro's gotchu,” he whispered, filling me more and more with each thrust of his hips as I tried to breathe through the pain.

“Ro! It’s too much,” I cried pushing at his stomach as he went deeper kissing away my tears. “I know it seems that way baby, but I’m almost in. I promise it’s gon’ feel so good, move your hands.”

“Ro-”

“You trust me?” he asked gently kissing my forhead as I nodded “Then mov’em for me.”

I complied and with a snap of his hips, he bottomed out as I clawed at his back. “Roman! I feel so full, I – I can’t,” I gasps as Roman captured my lips in a passionate kiss.

“Yes, you can..Breathe….Just breathe sweetness,” he whispered against my lips surging forward, my pain suddenly becoming something more with each powerful thrust….

 “Roman, faster,” I pleaded wrapping my legs around him. “Yea…..There she go, there’s my good girl,” he moaned as my hips moved against him. “You feel so good,” I cried as Roman buried his head in the crook of my neck.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to cum inside you, you feel so good… You gon’ let me cum inside you, baby?”

“Bear, please-”

“Answer me, Starr?” he groaned, even more turned on as my other pet name for him escaped my lips.

"God, yes!"

 “Uh huh, you gon’ let your bear fill you up, I promise it’ll feel so good,” he rasped marking my neck as I clawed at his lower back and nipping at his shoulder as he properly dicked me down.

“Fuck I want to cum inside you so bad..Tell me I can again," he moaned angling his hips taking me by surprise.

“Yes, I want you to cum inside me,” I screamed, the new position and thrusts sending chills down my spine, making my toes curl.  Lifting one of my legs in the air with a firm grip on my heel Roman continued to rearrange my insides, lifting his head slightly to watch me.

Roman’s POV

“You’re such a good girl, Starr… Savin’ this good ass pussy just for me, and you gon’ let me cum inside her. Just my good girl, ain’t you?”

“Mmhm, only your good girl,” she moaned, her words filling my heart with relief and love.

“Only my good girl…..Damn, I love how dat pussy creamin’ listen to that shit, she just purrin’ ready to squirt for me again.”

The squelching sounds, as I claimed her, along with our bodies colliding, filled the room. A blush suddenly crept onto Starr’s face as she listened and tried to bury her face in my neck as I praised her.

“I been waitin’ for this Starr…Let me see you, beautiful,” I moaned willing her eyes to mine as I bit my lip in anticipation and appreciation. Fuck, she looked and felt so good, I want to keep her this way forever. Up under me begging me to make dat pretty pussy cum again and again… Merry Christmas to me, indeed.

Fuck, why we waited so long to do this. And the fact that I am the first man to ever be be inside her makes my dick get even harder and I didn’t think that was possible.

She just doesn’t know what she’s done, we’re tied together forever now.

Starr’s POV

“I’m ruinin’ you for any man thinking he can have you cause’ he can’t.” Roman growled as our lips met in a sloppy kiss as our tongues battled for dominance with me finally surrendering in the end to his power.

“Dat pussy jus pulsin’ for me and suckin’ my dick back in, get it baby. Get dat nut...Sweet ass pussy, just coatin’ my dick,” he moaned, as I began to lose my grip on reality.

 His words, his nasty words making me wetter as I writhed under him searching for my next release. “I know what you need…My sweet Starr needs to cum, don’t she?”

“Yes, I need it, Roman,” I begged as he bit his lower lip. His hair framing his beautiful face, looking like a real-life romance novel cover coming to life as he continued his delicious torture as I pulsed around him, helpless as he continuously brought me to the edge to only to pull back.

“Please let me cum,” I whined as his other hand went under my arm gripping my shoulder trapping me as he began to thrust harder and faster.

 “You ready baby?”

“Yes!.... I-I’m close!”

“I gotchu, just let it go, baby,” he encouraged in my ear releasing my leg and moving his hand between my thighs, stroking my sensitive throbbing clit, as his lips swallowed my cries of passion.

 Feeling bold, I reached down and placed my hand on top of his moving his fingers faster against my clit as he growled feeling the spasms taking over my body.

 We couldn’t stop; it was too hypnotizing as we both looked down watching his dick sink deeper and deeper inside me. “Cum for me, let it out Starr. Stop fighting it.”

“Mmh, here it comes…. Just for you,” I gasped beginning to squirt.

“Fuck yea..Squirt for bear,” Roman moaned pulling out, slapping his dick on my pussy before thrusting back in, taking me hard, fast and deep.

“Shit! I- I-” I cried out losing my train of thought gripping his ass, totally fucked out as I came undone again for him.

“Oh, fuck yea, give me it all…. Fuck, here it cum, just for you,” He groaned cummin’ in a violent rush, grinding his hips into mine, bowing his back prolonging our euphoria before collapsing beside me.

His breathing ragged as I my body continued to spasm in the aftermath.

“Fuck, you are dangerous, Starr,” Roman chuckled as I looked at him like he was crazy.

“No, your ass is dangerous,” I whispered blushing as we shared a gentle kiss, trying to come back down to earth.

“Thank you for tonight.” I whispered against his lips as he shook his head.

“No, thank you for choosing me.” And in that moment no other words were spoken i as we just wrapped ourselves up in each other and were just were us.

A little while later, Roman ran a bath and helped me clean-up, which I have to say was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced.  He washed me from head to toe, taking his time kissing and caressing my body.

This didn’t seem or feel like a one-time thing, but I was scared to ask, and I didn’t want to make it weird.

 “You know I could have done this myself?” I whispered enjoying soaking in the warm water as he kissed my neck. “Not when you’re with me you won’t,” he said as I smiled. “Are you sore?”

“A little but the warm water is helping,” I said reassuring him I was ok. His alarm going off made us both sigh. “Santa duties are calling mister Reigns. You know if Uncle Roman doesn' have that barbie dream house  put together and waiting in front of the tree for Harmony it’s gonna be hell to pay.”

Every year, Roman goes over to his sister’s after the kids fall asleep to help put out their gifts and put their toys together. It's a tradition for them every Christmas and birthday.

“I know, but I hate to leave. I don’t want it to seem-”

“Roman, it’s ok I’m fine, I’ll see you later on today.” I wanted him to stay but I knew he needed to go. After sharing a gentle kiss, he stood up to leave.

“You sure you good,” he asked, stopping by the door.

“I’m good Roman, give Savannah and the kids my love.”

He seemed so torn about leaving, so I gave him a small smile. “Merry Christmas, bear,” I whispered as he smirked. It was almost as if he was remembering what had transpired tonight.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetness.”

“Roman!” I blushed as he shrugged his shoulders. “I told you that was gon’ be your new nickname from now on and I meant it.

“Don’t say it around people,” I hissed as he smiled. “Why not, only you and me will know what it means?”

“I know you…You’re gonna say it in a flirty way and Jey's gonna figure it out and run it in the ground.”

“So, what-”

“Roman!”

“Fine, I’ll try but I ain’t making no promises but seriously thank you for my Christmas present, sweetness.

“You’re welcome and thank you for um...”

“You don’t have to say anything baby girl…Just know this ain’t over between us, cause’ I’ll have you know; you were the best I’ve ever had, and I don’t plan on letting you go.” And with a deep groan, he left the room before I could respond.

“Well i guess there is my answer……Merry Christmas indeed Mr. Reigns, because I’m not letting you go either.”

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[scribblesofagoonerr]

dino's are fancy! | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: new year eve celebrations are in full swing, however, buddy is set on wearing a dinosaur costume to the party, so leah has to compromise somwhere along the line...

double the trouble masterlist

"Ou' need this one next! B'ue one next!" You demand, less than patient as you thrust the Lego brick into Monkey's hand, "Ere', Monks'! Take it!"

You're sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room beside Monkey, near to the twinkling Christmas tree. The two of you are deep into building the massive Lego set that your favourite person got for Christmas.

Monkey generously let you help her-- though she was actually doing most of the work, she had cheekily dubbed you as her "assistant."

"Pass it over here then, shrimp," Monkey mumbles, holding her hand out.

"Ere ou' go! 'Ave it!" You chirp, pushing the piece into her hand with determination.

"Good job," Your favourite person murmurs distractedly, focused on the instructions.

The room feels cosy, the soft hum of New Year's preparations buzzing in the background. You're aware there's a big crowd coming over later, and you're beyond excited - especially since your best friend, Rory, is also coming to the party as well with Beth and Viv.

"Monks'?" You not so politely prod the older girl in the shoulder, "When everyone comin' round?" You ask, curiosity piqued.

"Not until way, way later tonight, remember? It'll be dark and the monsters will be out to get ya!" Monkey tells you with a teasing smile.

Your eyes widen in fear, "No' Monsters!" You exclaim, scrambling to your feet and leaving Monkey behind to continue building Lego on her own, "Mummy! Mummy!" You shout aloud the house without a care in the world, absolutely frightened now.

Leah and her girlfriend, Elle, are both currently in the kitchen in the middle of sorting out all the grown-up drinks ahead of the party when you run in like a deer in the headlights.

"Whoa," Elle is the first to catch you mid-run before you crash into something and hurt yourself like you've done once or twice before, "You okay, little miss?"

"I' scared. Where's me, mum?" You ask frantically, your eyes darting around the room to catch sight of Leah, "Mummy! Where are 'ou?"

"I'm right here, bubba," Leah chuckles, carrying a couple of funny-looking bottles in her hand as she places them both down on the kitchen countertop, before crouching down to your level and seeing your frightened expression, "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Mummy! Monks' said there'll be monsters tonight at the party cos' it'll be late!" Your bottom lip trembles with worry, your eyes wide like saucers, "I don' wan see none of da' monsters!"

"What? Ignore your big sister, bubba. I think she’s just being a bit silly," Leah says, shaking her head in disagreement, reaching down to scoop you up and sit you on top of the kitchen counter, "There'll be no monsters in sight at all, alright? You're safe inside the house."

"Ou' promise?" You look sceptical, not entirely sure whether to trust Leah's word or not.

"I promise, bubba," Leah coos, gently moving a flyaway hair out of your eyes, "Monkey is just joking around like she does, alright? But there'll definitely be no monsters at the party tonight, so you have nothing to fear!" She adds, playfully poking you on the nose.

"Kay' den but ou' better mean it!" You agree, still somewhat sceptical about the answer, "I needs’ to ask you a question, please!"

"That's good manners, bubba," Leah praises with a soft smile, "And what might your question be then?"

"When Roo comin' round?" You question, impatiently, "Monks' said no till later on. Dat' true?" You ask, letting out a dramatic huff, complete with flailing arms.

Leah smiles softly, nodding in agreement, "Monks' is right there, bubba. It won't be until much later on when it's dark outside, remember?"

"Why no' earlier? It be borin' when it' dark!" You exclaim, scrunching your face up in confusion, "Me and Roo can' no play with me all toys if it' dark, Mummy!"

"There'll be time to play, bubba," Leah reminds you with a soft, genuine smile, "And remember? Roo’s sleeping over tonight. Are you excited about that?"

Your eyes lit up in excitement, "Uh huh! I 'cited for me sleepover, an' I gets to see Auntie Kei as well, right?" You question, getting straight to the point.

"You do, and Holly, too. I know she's really looking forward to seeing you!" Leah grins enthusiastically, "And you know, Auntie Beth and Auntie Vivi will be coming as well, along with some of the other girls now they're back!"

"I' more excited to see them. I' already see Holly at Nanas' other day," You retort, sassily with a small roll of your eyes, "She nothin' special anymore, Mummy. She don' even bring me choc'ote, she mean."

"Bubba," Leah starts, biting back laughter, "That's not very nice to say things like that now, is it? You know Holly loves you a lot, regardless if she brings you chocolate, or not."

"Yeah, but, I' mean Auntie Kei better than Holly cos' she bring me cookies at least!" You declare, your mind made up on the matter.

Monkey snorts as she enters the kitchen, "Ooft, don't let Holly hear you say that, shrimp." She jokes, ruffling your hair as she passes you.

"Oi, you," Leah turns herself round to look at the teenage girl, "What's this I'm hearin' about you telling Buddy that there'll monsters tonight because it's dark?" She questions.

Monkey winces in realisation, "It was a joke, I swear."

"Yeah, well, it won't be very funny when she's waking up in the middle of the night crying though, will it?" Leah retorts, arching her eyebrow.

"No... I'm only messin' I promise," Monkey protests her innocence, holding her hands up in self-surrender, "Sorry, little Buddy. I didn't mean to really scare you, honest. Do you forgive me?" She apologises to you.

"It' fine. I' forgive 'ou!" You agree, nodding your head promptly.

Monkey grins cheekily, before proceeding to walk over to the fridge, "I'm absolutely hank Marvin'!"

"Me too!" You  chime in, "I' 'ank Marvin' as well, Mummy!"

"Oh, you are, huh?" Leah teases, ticking your sides until giggles bubble out of you, "I guess the three pancakes you ate for breakfast didn't fill up, did they?"

"No. I' still hungry!" You continue to protest, holding your stomach to emphasis.

"Oh, I'm sure you are," Leah teases, playfully rolling her eyes.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a flippin' horse!" Monkey complains, rummaging through the fridge, and pulling out a bag of grated cheese and digging in before Leah swiftly intercepts.

"Aye," Leah scolds, taking the bag away and shooting her a disapproving look, "If you're going to eat that then at least make a sandwich, eh?"

Monkey grimaces, "Yeah, but sarnies are effort."

"Well, then you're not that hungry, are you?" Leah deadpans, returning the cheese to the fridge.

"Yeah, well, it's a lot of effort," Monkey mumbles in response, slumping her shoulders, "Well, what else can I eat? You've practically written everything off for later for the party, I'm starving 'ere, you know? I'm a growing girl!" She states, dramatically.

"You literally ate breakfast less than an hour ago, I'm sure you'll cope," Leah retorts, not resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"How can you both be so hungry?" Elle chuckles, shaking her head.

"I'm a growing girl, innit?" Monkey insists.

"Yeah, I' growing girl as well!" You parrot.

"Copycat," Monkey mutters.

You give her your best scowl, "Am not!"

"Are too!" Monkey quips.

"No I' not!" You fire back, stomping your foot in protest.

"Yes you are, you're such a parrot recently..." Monkey murmurs, going back to the fridge to grab a can of Diet Coke out.

"Are they always like this?" Elle jokes, amusedly watching you and Monkey bicker back and forth.

"More often than not it seems these days," Leah retorts, chuckling and shaking her head, "Girls, that's enough, you two. Can we go one day without you two squabbling, eh?"

"Sorry," Monkey mumbles, piercing the drink and taking a swig of it.

"I' sorry. I' only speakin' truth!" You feign innocence, using familiar words you've heard one too many times now.

Leah chuckles, smoothing a flyaway piece of hair out of your eyes, "Right, shall we go and find you something to wear for the party tonight?" She suggests, switching focus.

"Yeah!" You excitedly agree, eager to get down from the kitchen counter, "An Elle help as well!" You add, pointing your index finger in the direction of the woman.

"You want me to come and help you?" Elle repeats, surprised.

"Uh-huh. I' need 'elp choosing!" You insist with a firm nod of your head, "Can 'ou help me down, please?"

"Sure I can, little madam," Elle retorts, scooping you up off the kitchen worktop with practised ease like she's done it all before.

"Thank 'ou very much!" You exclaim politely before you have the advantage to run off ahead of them, "Come on, Mummy! Come on, Elle. We needs' to pick me outfit!"

"It's very important isn't it," Leah teases, catching up with you as she shakes her head fondly, "Which dress are you going to pick out?" She wonders.

You impatiently tug open the doors of your wardrobe before spinning around and scrunching your face up in disgust, "No dress, Mummy. They yucky!"

"Oh, but how about the dress that Nana brought you?" Leah suggests, moving to grab the sparkly silver dress out of the wardrobe, "Or there's the pink one as well..."

"No, Mummy. I' no wear a dress!" You state, stubbornly as you cross your arms over your chest, turning towards Elle, "Can 'ou tell her that she's being ridiculous?" You insist.

"I'm being ridiculous?" Leah fauxes her hurt, clutching her hand over her chest, "Oh, where has my little baby girl gone..." She pretends to wipe a fake tear from her eye.

"It 'kay, Mummy. I' am still here, but I' big girl now!" You tell her with a cheeky lopsided grin on your face, "I 'ove you!" You add, moving to stand in front of her.

"I love you too, bubba," Leah smiles, squishing your cheeks together and kissing you on the top of your forehead, "Right then, so if you don't want to wear a dress. What do you want to wear instead?"

"Hm, I' think... Dino'daur costume!" You exclaim, spotting it out the corner of your eye hanging on a coat hook, "Dino'daur costume protect me from the monsters!"

"Your dinosaur costume, again?" Leah repeats in a silly tone of voice, "Don't you want to wear something cool for the party? You can wear anything you like! You don't need to wear anything to protect you from the Monsters, they're non-existent, remember, bubba?"

"I' wear dino'daur costume just in case!" You insist, puffing out your chest with determination.

Leah grimaces slightly in disagreement, "Bubba, I think you might end up getting a little bit hot when you wear that when you're dancing, won't you, hmm? Maybe we could try a different option..."

"No, I' be fine. I' gon' wear dino'daur costume!" You tell her firmly, your mind made up on the decision, "I' dance in dino'daur costume!"

Elle chuckles in amusement, "Well that's certainly a different option, hey?"

Leah still doesn't look entirely convinced on the matter, "Little miss, I know you want to wear your dinosaur costume, but don't you want to wear something a bit more... fancier?"

"Ou' need to understand, 'kay, Mummy?" You tell her with a certain seriousness, "Dinos' are fancy!"

Leah bit back a laugh, "Oh are they, huh? I mean, what about pretty instead?"

"Yuck! No pretty! Dino instead!" You declare.

"But... I thought you liked this one, bubba."

"No, it' itchy and scratchy, an it' look horrible!" You ramble off different words you have heard before, shaking your head making your decision firm.

Leah blinks, "You won't look horrible, bubba--"

"Yes, I will! I' be look hideous in it! I' no wear that!" You interject, repeating the words that you hear Monkey say when she doesn't like a certain outfit she wears and looks in the mirror.

"Bubba, Nana brought you this one though, and you liked it when you saw it," Leah explains in a gentle tone of voice, "How about we give it a try?"

You shake your head in disagreement, crossing your arms over your chest, "I' don' care. I wan' be a dino'daur!"

"Excuse me, little miss sass," Leah mumbles in outrage at your newfound sassiness that she's still not entirely used to.

"Ou' need to understand Mummy 'dat dino'daur better," You wiggle your index finger in front of her face and have a somewhat serious expression plastered on your own, "'Kay?"

Leah stifles her amusement with a bite of her bottom lip, "Right, whatever you say then, my stubborn little miss," She jokes, "Are you sure you don't want to try something different instead?"

"Nooo!" You exclaim loud enough to be heard through the whole house, "I' be dino'daur, Mummy. Roaaaar!" You let out an almightly loud roar like one of your favourite t-rexes.

"What, are we pretendin' to be a dinosaur tonight?" Monkey teases as she sticks her head around your bedroom door, "T-Rex or Stegosaurus?"

You ponder the question for a brief second, tapping your small finger on your chin, "I' be a t-rex!" You insist, "Roaaaaaar! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!"

"Scary little t-rex," Monkey jokes, pretending to look somewhat terrified, "What're you shoutin' the house down 'bout anyways?"

"I' be a dino'daur for the party!" You tell her, pointing your index finger in the direction of the costume where it lay still, "Monks'! 'Ou tell Mummy to let me wear it!"

"Well, I mean, why not, eh? You can rock the dino costume!" Monkey exclaims, stepping further into the room and taking the chance to ruffle your hair, "We'll have a little dino at the party instead of a little Buddy, eh?"

"Aye, no, Monks' get off me hair!" You whine, trying to push her hands off you.

"Buddy," Leah tries again, "Maybe just for tonight, we can try something different instead, hm? What about this?" She suggests, holding up a different outfit.

"Nooo! I' not wearin' that," You tell her, scrunching your face up in disgust, "No way I' wearin' that!"

"Geesh, three-year-olds are so sassy these days," Monkey quips, plonking herself down on the carpeted floor, "You know, she's really not going to want to wear anything other than the dumb dinosaur costume now that she has it."

"Yeah, you're not kidding there," Leah mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I clearly shot myself in the foot there, haven't I?"

Monkey pulls a silly face, flailing her hands up, "I mean, really, it's sorta your own fault for buying it for Christmas. Whatcha' think would happen?"

Leah shoots your favourite person a disapproving look, "Yeah, alright, thanks for your help, Menace," She mutters, "Bubba, look, it's really not that bad. Why don't you just try it on and see what you think?"

"No! I' gon' look like a... I' look like a bin bag!" You declare promptly, standing firm on your decision, "I' no wearin' it an' 'ou can' make me!"

Elle bites her lip to stifle her amusement.

"A big bag?" Leah repeats, baffled, "No, you won't. I think you will look adorable."

You shake your head in disagreement, "No. I' won', Mummy! An it' be itchy, an' scratchy, an' I' be smelly!"

"Smelly?" Monkey snorts in amusement.

"Yeah, I' smell 'orrible, like 'da bin!" You insist.

"Personally, and I'm just saying, my own opinion and all," Monkey begins, exchanging a cheeky grin with Leah, "I think you might as well let her wear the dino costume, cos' otherwise it's gonna end in tears, innit?

"Alright, fine," Leah inwardly groans, "I give in. Bubba, you can wear your dinosaur costume to the party tonight."

"Yeah, I' be dino'daur!" You exclaim, practically vibrating with excitement, "An I' bring all my dino'daurs into 'da living room to show 'eryone!"

"Bubba, no," Leah's eyes widen at the determination in your little voice, "We're not bringing all your dinosaurs into the living room..."

You scrunch your brows together in confusion, "No, 'ou listen! I gon' ave' me t-rex, an' me steg'saurus, an' me bron'saurus! I' have to show all of 'em!" It's very important, that each one of your dinosaurs gets shown around to everyone at the party tonight.

"You can take a few downstairs to show, but not all of them, alright?" Leah overrules your own decision in a gentle tone of voice, "You have quite a lot now, and we don't want any of them to get broken now, do we?"

You huff in disagreement, "Well then they should be more careful and no' stand on 'em!"

"Wha?" Leah blinks in confusion, "Right, Bubba, that's not the point. You can maybe bring one or two downstairs, but no more than that, okay?"

"Why' no more? I' wan bring 'em all!" You cross your arms over your chest and stomp your foot in protest, "Ou' bein' mean no' lettin' me bring 'em all down! 'Ou said I' can do that!"

Leah opens and closes her mouth, baffled by your words, "Since when?"

"Since... Since ou' said so, Mummy!" You insist, stubbornly, "I' heard 'ou say it! Ou' said I' can!" You repeat.

"No, no, I didn't," Leah retorts, shaking her head, "I said you could take a few downstairs, but not all of them."

"But 'dey all 'ave to come down, or they'll be lonely on their own up there!" You exclaim, dramatically throwing your arms up in the air, "Ou' have to 'ave 'em all!"

"I'm sure there will be just fine upstairs, bubba," Leah chuckles, shaking her head.

You shake your head in disagreement, "I' don' think so, Mummy. Ou' might hurt their feelings!"

"Bubba..." Leah looks exasperated, all but ready to give in.

"Cos' ou' can' 'ave one, an' then no 'ave the others," You cut her words short, telling her your over-the-top explanation, "Ou' can' be like meany like 'dat, Mummy!"

"I'm not... I'm not being mean," Leah mumbles in disbelief.

Needless to say, the conversation ends with you bringing down a whole bucket full of different dinosaurs, and chucking them onto the rug in the living room.

"Auntie Kei!" You exclaim, spotting the woman walk through the living room with her girlfriend, Laura, beside her. " Ou're here!" You don't waste time throwing your tiny arms around her legs.

"Ooh, hello little dinosaur!" Keira coos, scooping you into her arms and squeezing you tightly, "Did you have a good Christmas this year? Did you get spoilt lots and lots?"

"Uh huh, I got lots an' lots of new toys!" You tell her excitedly, flailing your arms in the air for further dramatics, "I' got a dino' costume. See?" You say, motioning to the outfit you're wearing.

"I do, wow," Keira playfully gasps, tickling your sides, "It's very roar-some!"

Leah appears with a drink in hand, "Ah, you guys are here!" She exclaims with enthusiasm, wrapping her free arm around Keira first and then Laura, "I see you met our little dinosaur of the night." She jokes.

"Hiya, Le!" Keira greets her best friend, "We did, and she looks absolutely adorable!"

"Mummy let me choose me outfit me' self!" You declare proudly.

"Yeah... I mean, I did try and sway her mind but well Buddy is very stubborn," Leah begins to explain, "Which I now realise is a trait she has picked up from either me or Jord, apparently."

"Oh, we could have told you that before," Holly chimes in on the conversation, holding another couple of drinks in her hand for Keira and Laura, "Personally, I think she takes after you more than she does Jord, especially when it comes to her stubbornness."

"What? Rude," Leah mumbles before she takes a sip of her drink, "I'm not that stubborn..." She retorts, mocking her offence.

"Sure, you tell yourself that," Keira snickers, thinking otherwise, "Where's the other troublemaker? It's quiet around here."

"Currently chatting Elle's ear off about whether she's watched Shrek or not," Leah explains with a half-amused smile, taking a sip of her drink, "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to see you both though!"

"We're here!" Beth announces, walking through the house with an energetic five-year-old attached to her, "We're not that late are we? Little miss here wanted to choose the perfect outfit to wear."

"No, no, you're just in time," Leah grins, wrapping her free arm around Beth and Viv, before crouching down to Rory's level, "Hi, Roo! Did you have a good Christmas with your Mummy and Mamma?"

"Hi, Auntie Le! I got loads of presents, and friends for Twix as well!" Rory is beaming a great big smile on her face.

"Roo!" You shout in excitement, wriggling in Keira's arms to get down.

Rory's face lights up even more, "Buddy!"

"Let's go an' play!" You are ecstatic to see your own best friend, Rory again, "Put me down' please, Auntie Kei!”

"As you wish, little dino," Keira obliges and sets you back down on the floor.

Beth chuckles, "At least the two of them are happy enough, Roos' been ecstatic about tonight," She tells her, before taking note of your outfit as you are set back down on your feet,  "What's with the dinosaur costume? That's an acquired outfit, eh?"

"Let's just say I know which battles to pick, and this battle with my three-year-old, well it's just better to agree to the costume rather than the full-blown meltdown I could have ended up with," Leah explains with a shake of the head.

"Sounds like you've had a fun day then," Viv laughs in amusement.

"Just another day being a parent to a three-year-old," Leah retorts, shaking her head in asperation, "Don't even get me started on the swearing jar, either..."

"Mummy puts' lot of money in 'der cos' she always sayin' words she shouldn't!" You throw Leah directly under the bus, "An Mama 'ave one now as well!"

"Oh?" Keira arches her eyebrow in amusement.

"Yeah, let's not talk about that," Leah huffs in response, taking another sip of her drink in hand.

"Come on, Roo, let' go and play!" You impatiently tug on Rory's hand, attempting to drag her over to where you'd thrown all your dinosaurs out, along with the rest of the toys out of your toy box, but there’s is always still room for more, "Mummy say no gettin' all me toys out but I' think it fine!"

“Buddy, no more getting any more of your toys out,” Leah calls aloud, shaking her head with an aspirated sigh as she hears the unmistakable clatter of toys being thrown out onto the floor again, “I might as well just talk to myself right now– Buddy, no more, please or people are going to trip over them!”

“Mm, yummy pizza!” You exclaim enthusiastically, rubbing your stomach as you sit cross-legged on the floor, happily munching on a slice, “It good, isn’t it, Roo?” You ask your best friend, your grin as wide as can be.

“Yeah, it’s good!” Rory agrees with a mouthful of pizza, nodding eagerly.

From the corner of the room, Monkey strolls over, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “Hey, kiddos!” She crouches beside you, her gaze fixed on your pizza like a cat watching a mouse, “You enjoyin’ that, little dinosaur?”

“I’ eatin’ pizza, Monks’!” You beam proudly, completely oblivious to her intentions, “Ou’ can’ have any of it! It mine!”

Monkey lets out a playful gasp, clutching her chest in mock offence, “What? Not even a single bite of it? I’m starvin’ over here!”

“Nooo!” You cry, clutching your pizza slice to your chest as if it were your most prized possession, “It mine, Monks’. No’ ‘ours!”

Monkey chuckles, but her hand moves faster than you expect. Before you can react, she pinches the tip of your pizza slice and takes a playful bite.

“Hey!” You squeal, scowling at her as you pull the now-smaller slice away, “Das’ mean! Dat’ mine!”

“Mm, it tastes even better when it’s stolen,” Monkey murmurs, licking her fingers with exaggerated satisfaction.

You glare at her, your cheeks puffing out in frustration, “No steal, Monks’. Dat’ bad!”

“Aw, come on Buddy,” Monkey ruffles your hair with a cheeky grin still plastered on her face, “Sharing is caring!”

“You can’t eat her pizza!” Roo exclaims, giggling as she keeps a tight hold of her own pizza.

“Nooo!” You huff, your voice growing louder in protest, “Mummy!”

“What’s going on in here?” Leah’s voice cuts through the room as she steps in, her hands on her hips, “Why does it feel like you two are always arguing at the minute? What’s happened this time?”

“Oh, hey, Le!” Monkey says, flashing her an innocent smile, “We’re not arguing, honest. We’re bonding! Right, Buddy?”

“Mummy! Monks’ is ‘tupid!” You accuse, pointing an accusatory finger at the teenage girl.

“Whoa,” Leah frowns as she crouches down to your level, “Hey, bubba, we don’t use words like that, do we? It’s nice not.” She tells you, her tone is gentle but still holds a sense of firmness.

“But she is though! She ate m’ pizza!” You insist, your tiny fingers still directed at Monkey like a prosecutor in court.

Leah pinches the bridge of her nose, glancing up at Monkey, “What did you do that for?”

The teenage girl shrugs, still grinning sheepishly, “In my defence… Well, I guess there is none, but the pizza tasted super good!”

“There’s plenty of pizza left, Menace,” Leah sighs, shaking her head, “You’re only upsetting her when you take her things.”

“Yeah, okay, I didn’t think that one through,” Monkey admits, scratching the back of her neck, “Sorry, Buddy. I didn’t mean to eat your pizza. Am I’ forgiven?”

“No, m’ pizza gone now!” You whine, your bottom lip quivering as you clutch the remains of your slice, “I don’ like ‘ou right now, Monkey!”

“I’m really sorry for eating it, shrimp,” Monkey looks incredibley guilty about eating the pizza.

Leah strokes your hair gently, “It’s okay, bubba. We can get you another slice, yeah? It’s just pizza, there’s plenty of it.”

“But it’ mine!” You protest, sniffling, “An’ she ate it!”

Monkey’s guilty expression deepens, “Hey, Buddy. I’m really sorry for stealing your pizza,” She says, crouching to your level, “Tell you what– How about I make it up to you with some… lemonade?”

“Fizzy pop?” You ask, your tears momentarily forgotten as curiosity takes over.

“Yeah…” Monkey hesitates, instantly regretting her offer but knowing she’s already said it.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, your face lightening up with excitement.

Leah blinks at Monkey, her disbelief evident, “Are you serious right now? It’s almost 8 pm, Menace!” 

Monkey shrugs with a custious smile, “Hey, look how happy she is now! Win-win, right?”

“Unbelievable,” Leah mutters, shaking her head, “You can have one small cup of lemonade, bubba, but no more than that. Just this once, and we’re not telling your Mama about this either, got it?”

“You got it dude!” You beam a wide smile, sticking your thumb up in the air.

It’s inching closer to midnight, but you’re nowhere near tired. You’re sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the living room, surrounded by your toys, stacking blocks and chatting to Rory with endless energy.

“Stack it’ like dat’ Roo!” You insist.

“This way?” Rory replies in question, gesturing to the green block in her hand.

“Uh huh!” You nod in agreement.

“Come on bubba, time for bed," Leah says softly, holding her hand out to you.

You cross your arms stubbornly, sticking your bottom lip out in defiance, “No' bed. I' stay up tonight with all da' grown-ups!"

Leah crouches down to your level, tilting her head, "Oh no little miss. You definitely need to get some sleep, or you'll be super grumpy in the morning, won't you?"

"I' no like that. I' be fine. I' gots to stay awake!" You insist, stomping your foot for emphasis.

Leah bites back a smile, "I think it might be a bit too late for you, bubba," She says, pointing to your drooping eyelids.

"No, I' stay 'wake. I' wish 'erybody 'appy new year!" You tell her with determination.

"Buddy,” Leah sighs, rubbing her temples, “It's going to be very late, and I might get into trouble with Mama if I let you stay up, and she finds out, hmm?"

You shake your head, "Dat' don't matter. I' stay up with everyone else!"

"Bubba--" Leah begins to speak.

"We don' have to tell her. It 'kay!" You declare confidently.

Leah shakes her head, amused but exasperated, "That's not the point, little miss..."

Keira, lounging on the sofa, chuckles at the exchange, "She's really trying to blag you there," She says, grinning.

"Oh, she definitely is," Leah replies, raising an eyebrow at your mischievous grin.

"I' stay up. Deal?" You say, holding out your tiny hand like a seasoned negotiator.

Leah laughs incredulously, "... What? No deal, bubba. Little girls like you can't stay up that late, it's bedtime for a reason, New Year’s Eve or not."

You pout dramatically, "Don' be borin' Mummy. I' no like 'ou when 'ou like that!"

"Umm excuse me little miss, I'm not boring,” Leah places her hands on her lips, feigning offence, “I am just wanting to make sure you're going to sleep at a reasonable time.”

"Come on Le, what's the harm in letting her stay up late for just tonight? It is New Year’s Eve after all, eh?" Keira chimes in, smirking.

Leah exhales a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I don't know why I even bother," She mumbles, "Fine, but if Jord questions it then it's on you to tell her!"

“It’s fine, I can deal with that,” Keira grins as she gets up off the sofa and scoops you up into her arms, “Come on my little dino, let’s go and find the biscuits in the cupboard!”

“Not too many because it’s near to bedtime– Oh, that went in one ear and out the other. Never mind…”

The living room hums with the warm buzz of conversation and laughter as Keira carries you into the kitchen. Setting you down on the counter, she holds you steady with one hand while rummaging through the cupboard with the other.

“Right then, little dinosaur,” Keira says, peering into the cupboard, “What biscuits do we fancy?”

“Da’ choc’late ones!” You exclaim, clapping your hands with glee, “Choc’late da’ best!”

Keira chuckles, pulling out a pack of chocolate biscuits and handing one to you, “Chocolate it is. But just one, alright? It’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

You nod eagerly, biting into the biscuit with a big grin, “I’ no tell! It our ‘ecret!”

Keira winks, popping a biscuit into her own mouth, “Exactly. Our secret.”

By the time midnight was approaching the party was in full swing. Laughter and music filled the room, and you were more determined than ever to prove Leah wrong by staying awake and joining in the celebrations.

Rory had long since succumbed to sleep, her head resting on Viv’s shoulder, but you were still fighting valiantly to keep your eyes open.

As the countdown began, your resolve wavered and you curled up on the sofa, a party hat sat crooked on your head, and a party blower hung limply from your mouth.

“10... 9… 8…” Everyone began to count down in the room.

But you didn’t even make it to one.

The sound of fireworks outside should have been enough to keep you awake, but it was all too much for you it seems.

“I think the partying might’ve been a bit much for her after all,” Holly quips with a grin, gesturing toward your peaceful, sleeping form.

Leah chuckles softly, crossing the room to you, “Oh, bubba,” She coos, carefully tucking a blanket around you. She brushes a stray curl for your forehead, her expression warm and tender, “Happy New Year, my little dinosaur.” She added, pressing a gente kiss to the top of your head, lingering a moment for straightening up.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[kayhi808]

Please feel free to ignore this if you have done this already but your recent post made my day that it’s got ideas HAHA. Thank you for sharing us this Bucky and his family!

Anw, what if it’s the reverse? Abby doesn’t really understand much of her mama and bucky’s dynamics but she knows, Bucky is her’s and mama’s. AND her mama is HER mama and bucky’s Doll. They belong with eachother. What would happen if there are scenarios where men or even young adults find her very attractive (she’s a milf like that) and/or talk abt her and flirt with her? Will she confront them like what she did with Megan’s mom? Or call help from Bucky? Or Both?

Thank you for this Ask! Abby doesn't like other men giving you attention either. In her brain, the 3 of you need to be together. No one is going to bust that up. Haha! Bucky may have to step in.😉

You and Abby are at a coffee shop waiting for Bucky. His meeting is running long and The Tower is just around the corner. You order yourself an iced tea and a juice for Abby. The young barista included a lemon cake when you picked up your order. "Oh, I didn't order this."

He winks at you and smiles, "It's on the house."

Blushing, you thank him and walk Abby to the benches outside. You catch Abby frowning at you. "What's wrong?"

"Who dat man?"

"A worker at the coffee shop "

"Why he winks at you like dis?" She blinks.

"I don't know, maybe because he was being sneaky and gave us a lemon cake."

With raised eyebrows "Did he steals it?"

Probably. "No, I'm sure he bought it for us. If you don't want it, I can eat it myself."

"No! I wants." Abby laughs and does a happy wiggle.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" You look up and a man is asking to sit on the the other side of the bench. You look around and you and notice most of the seats are taken. "Sure." You gather Abby closer to you.

He looks down at Abby, mouth sprinkled with crumbs. She just stares at him."That looks really good." Abby nods and wipes her mouth off on her arm. Looking back at you, "She's adorable."

"Thank you," you smile down at Abby.

"Like mother, like daughter." Abby frowns at that. "I'm Mike." He hold his hand out to you.

"Stranger danger, Mama!"

You bite your lip, holding back a smile. "You're right, baby."

Mike laughs, "Sorry. Smart girl. We can still talk and get to know each other so we aren't strangers."

"Bucky not liking that."

"Who's Bucky?"

"He's my Papa & he's big and strong and angry."

You laugh, "Baby! I'm sorry, I am seeing someone." To Abby, "Finish your cake."

Mike produces a business card, "If you change your mind."

"Mama not changing mind!" Abby mumbles around a mouthful of cake.

In the blink of an eye, the card is snatched out of Mike's hand. "Change her mind about what?"

Abby's face lights up with a smile, "Papa!" She launches herself off the bench before you can stop her. Bucky effortlessly snagging her mid air. The Winter Soldier glare never leaving poor Mike.

"He talk to Mama & she said she seeing someone so he try give her card. If she change her mind."

"is that so," looking at the card, "Michael?" Bucky flicks the card back at Mike and he flinches.

"S...sorry. It was a mistake." He quickly gets up to leave.

Abby cackles at his retreating back.

"Was that really necessary?"

Bucky leans down to kiss you, "Evidently it was." Turning to Abby, "Did you just call me Papa?" The Winter Soldier glare is no where to be found, but in its place is a look of joy and wonder.

"Yous my Papa Bear. Growly and scary," squeezing his face between her palms, "but I no needs be scared cos you my Papa. You scared them nots me."

"That's right, my girl. You never have to fear me." Bucky hold her close and presses a kiss to her forehead.

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