#he gets there and immediately decides I am going to trick my way into a throne by this Queen’s side 😍

[thylionheart]

I’ve mentioned before, I’m making a folklore book for my baby nibling and of course we want a multi-regional book of folklore so I am desperately trying and failing to find a Mesopotamian myth where sex isn’t too important a plot point

[mrsbarnesblog]

I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend. 

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we’re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening. 

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing. 

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.  

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least. 

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it. 

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him. 

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed. 

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels. 

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back. 

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination. 

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear. 

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.” 

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back. 

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"  

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent. 

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too. 

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips. 

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed. 

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy. 

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.” 

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go. 

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar. 

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes. 

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes. 

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness. 

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs. 

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.” 

[formulawolff]

"you belong here" - s.v.

pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel

word count: 1.5k

warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada

a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3

"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"

"twenty."

"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."

"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."

"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."

"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."

"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."

"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."

"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."

sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.

since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.

you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.

so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.

i heard your single. we should change that.

shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.

i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)

from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.

eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.

you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.

nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.

and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.

upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"

"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"

lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."

"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"

"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"

"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."

"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."

"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."

"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."

"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.

"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."

"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.

it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.

ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.

the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.

yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.

you could only dream, right?

"sebastian!"

"sebastian over here!"

voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.

"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.

"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"

"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."

"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.

"who invited the slut?"

sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"

more voices cut in, jeering.

"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"

"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"

"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"

tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.

"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."

lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"

every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.

you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.

could you even last the weekend here?

did you even belong here?

"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."

blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.

"i'm so sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."

"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."

"you promise?"

"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"

"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.

"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.

"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."

you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"

"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 57 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets home in time to take care of you when you need him the most, and he's ready to push aside his own exhaustion to let Noah celebrate Halloween. Announcements and plans are made, including some that you're looking forward to a lot more than Bradley is.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, smutty blowjob, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Noah woke up on Halloween, he made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he went. Then he stopped short next to the table. "Daddy?"

Bradley spun around to see his son standing there in disbelief. "Hey, Bub," he said as a smile bloomed across his face. "I missed you." He knelt down, and Noah immediately trotted across the room and right into his open arms. "I made it back just in time to go trick-or-treating with you."

He kissed Noah's cheek and buried his nose in his son's soft curls, inhaling the scent of home. "We're all going to go," Noah said with conviction. "Even Skittles has a costume. And Aunt Natasha is going to get one, too. She promised."

"Then I guess it will be a party," Bradley told him, deciding now wasn't the best time to mention that you may rather spend the evening in bed. "Are you hungry?" he asked, standing up with his son in his arms, simply because he wasn't ready to stop holding him. "Do you want pancakes?"

Bradley knew it was bad when a four year old looked at you like he was convinced anything you tried to cook would be inedible. "Can Mommy make them?"

"Wow," Bradley said, trying not to laugh. He was pretty convinced five minutes ago that he'd be able to follow the directions on the box, but maybe not. "Do you really think Mommy is that much better at cooking than I am?"

"Yes. She is. Can she make the pancakes?"

Bradley laughed and kissed his cheek again. "How about I give it the old college try since Mommy is still sleeping, okay?" He held Noah while he measured out the water, but when it was time to crack an egg, he set him down at the table with a glass of milk and an activity book that you or Nat must have got for him. He looked at the egg, not quite trusting himself, and he cracked it into a bowl instead directly into the pancake mix. He ended up picking pieces of the shell out of the bowl, but once he started to stir everything together, it looked pretty damn good. 

"Okay," he muttered, wondering if you'd want to eat breakfast in bed if he managed to pull this off. He should order one of those tray tables for you to use. He dumped some of the batter into the hot pan and started to look online for a purple tray when he got a little distracted. 

"Daddy," Noah said, pointing to the stove as soon as Bradley smelled the pancake starting to burn.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, setting his finally fully charged phone aside. "It's okay, I'll eat this one," he promised, flipping it over with a spatula to reveal a blackened, smoking mess. Now he paid close attention to what he was doing, and the next ones turned out pretty well, but it was too late.

"What did you burn?" you asked from the doorway with a smile. When Bradley tossed the spatula aside and rushed to your side, you said, "For a minute there, I thought it was all a dream, and that you weren't really home yet at all. But then I smelled something burning and knew you must be."

He wrapped one arm around your waist, tilted your chin up with his fingers and kissed you, hoping to convey just how badly he had missed you. He didn't stop until Noah asked, "Mommy, can you make the pancakes?"

"Let's let Mommy rest," Bradley replied, stroking your neck with his fingertips. "Do you want me to bring a plate of food into the bedroom?" he asked you.

You shook your head and whispered, "I'm okay. I might take a nap later, but I'm fine, Daddy." Then you took his hand gently in yours and brought it to rest on your belly. "So is this little one."

"I wouldn't have blamed you," he blurted out, and you tucked your face against his chest. As your arms snaked around his waist, he said, "I would have been sad, but only because I'm so excited for the baby. But I wouldn't have blamed you or been upset with you, Princess."

You nodded and whispered, "I know. It was so scary though. And I don't think I could have gone much longer without you here."

"I'm home. And I'm cooking and doing everything. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Mommy, please," came Noah's exasperated voice. "The pancakes."

You started laughing against Bradley. "Do you want dinosaur pancakes?" you asked, and Noah gasped in delight. "I'll take that as a yes. Step aside, Daddy. Watch and learn."

But he didn't step aside. He stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder and told you over and over again how much he loved you while you prepared the most adorable breakfast he'd ever seen in his life. You cut up a pancake to look like a stegosaurus body and added spikes made out of sliced strawberries. You used part of a banana as the neck, and added chocolate chips as eyes. 

"Damn," Bradley said. "That's almost as cute as you are. Can I have one, too?" Then you cut up the burned pancake and made a much less cute looking dinosaur while he laughed the whole time. "Thanks. That's exactly how I wanted it."

"You're welcome," you told him with a smirk as you took some of the good pancakes for yourself. He guided you over to the table with all of the plates of breakfast, and Noah abandoned his book while he clapped his hands.

"Thank you, Mommy," he said as he shoved some strawberries into his mouth.

Then Bradley guided you down onto his lap and held you while you ate. "It's good to be home. When you're done eating, I want you to get back in bed and wait for me," he whispered, tracing your side gently with his fingers while he stuck his fork into his burnt dinosaur pancake.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said softly. "We can't do that. Not for a few more weeks. The doctors said my uterus has to thicken a bit more, and I-"

"Baby," Bradley said a little louder. "No. Don't apologize. I don't care about that. I want you to rest, but I also want to show you the books I bought in Tokyo."

You looked at him over your shoulder, and he kissed your cheek. "I want you to know that I did miss you that way, too."

"I missed you in every way imaginable, Princess."

-----------------------

Bradley ended up carefully carrying you to bed as you yawned, and he promised to clean up the kitchen and get things ready for Halloween.

"I want you to relax," he said for at least the tenth time as he dug around in his still unpacked duffle bag. "I'll take Noah out to buy some pumpkins in a little bit, and I'll leave you a sandwich in the fridge that you can eat when you want it. But in the meantime, look how cool these are."

He sat on the edge of the bed next to your thigh and handed you a stack of Japanese children's books. You smiled and looked at the covers. They ranged from some meant for a baby to ones that Noah would be interested in when he started school. "You were really thinking about your family the whole time, huh?"

"Every second I was gone," he promised, leaning down to kiss you. He would take care of everything, and Nat promised she'd come back later, and you really did almost feel like you could relax. But you still felt a little guilty even as he ran his lips and mustache along your cheek to your ear and whispered your name.

"You must be exhausted and jetlagged," you told him. "You're the one who should be resting."

He just shook his head, kissed you one more time and said, "I'll call Nat if I need her. Otherwise, I'm perfect because I'm with you. Rest."

Then he was gone, and you drifted off into the kind of beautiful sleep where you didn't have to worry about what time it was or when Noah needed to eat again. When you woke up after noon to a completely silent house, you ate your sandwich and then went right back to bed. Eventually Noah's laughter and the warm afternoon light that seemed impossible to sleep through had you out of bed again, but when you looked around the house, you didn't see anyone. The back door was open, and when you went into the kitchen, you saw Bradley and Noah carving pumpkins on the deck.

You walked outside in the random clothing you'd been sleeping in, and as soon as the sun hit your face, you didn't feel as exhausted anymore. "Mommy's up!" Noah cheered, jumping up to hug you with his slimy, orange hands. 

"Don't touch her until you wash your hands, Bub," Bradley called out with a grimace. "Too late."

"It's okay," you told him, kissing the top of Noah's head. "Are you happy Daddy made it home in time for Halloween?"

He looked up at you with a little crease along his brow. "I knew he would. That's why we bought him a costume."

"Speaking of which," Bradley said as he kissed your cheek without putting his messy hands on you, "it's almost time to get changed to go collect candy."

"And ride in the wagon!" Noah exclaimed.

"What wagon?" you asked.

"You'll see," Bradley replied with a little smirk. 

After a leisurely shower during which you didn't have to worry about anything except yourself, you dressed in your princess costume that you and Noah picked out from the Halloween warehouse and put on some makeup. Then you added your brand new crown, and you thought you looked pretty incredible. When you walked out to the living room and saw Noah dressed as a little prince, your heart melted. 

"Sweet Noah," you gushed as he held onto his treat bag, all ready to go. He was wearing his yellow paper crown that Bradley managed to procure from some unknown spot in the house, and he just looked precious. 

"I like your crown, Mommy," he said, pointing to the gold one you were wearing.

You smiled. "I like my purple paper crown better."

"Don't laugh." You turned to see Bradley standing behind you in his rather ill fitting knight costume. It kind of looked like he was wearing aluminum foil that was a size too small, but he had a smile on his face, and his costume crinkled when you hugged him. "Hey, Mav and Penny are planning to stop by to take some photos with Noah, but if you want me to call them back and tell them we just want a quiet evening, I can do that."

You shook your head against his crunchy costume as you laughed. "We should tell them about the baby when they get here."

"Yeah?" he asked excitedly. "You want to?"

"I mean, Nat and Javy know. Dr. Kelly knows. I think Mav and Penny should know now, too."

"I love this idea," he whispered, letting his fingers gently glide along the front of your dress. "You're feeling better now?"

You nodded, but Noah didn't really let you answer before he started clapping as he looked out the front door. "Aunt Natasha is back!" 

She walked in dressed as a jester and picked Noah up to give him a kiss. A minute later, Maverick, Penny and Amelia were all there as well, and phones were being passed around along with Noah, because everyone wanted their picture with the tiny prince. 

"Okay, let me take one of everyone in front of the pumpkins on the porch," Bradley said as he collected a few phones in his hands and headed outside. He smirked at you as he added, "Everyone needs to squeeze together a little bit more. Make sure both of my kids are in there."

"Both?" Penny asked before she gasped, and the first photo Bradley took was of her turning to look at you with wide eyes. "Both?!"

"I'm pregnant," you announced with a smile, and the second photo Bradley took was of everyone else with wide eyes, too. And he snapped a few more where Nat was holding Noah with a grin on her face while the others all hugged you.

----------------------------

After a brief argument on your end, Bradley managed to get you and Noah both settled into the oversized wagon he bought earlier this afternoon. Then he clipped Skittles' leash on before attaching her tiny crown to her head. "There we go. The royal family is now complete."

"Have fun!" Nat called out, waving from the front porch with the bowl of candy, already crowded with neighborhood kids looking for their treats. 

"I don't need to be pulled in a wagon all night," you protested as Bradley scoffed.

"What kind of knight would I be if I wasn't doting on the two of you." Skittles barked, so he added, "I meant the three of you."

"Four," you said, pointing to your belly as he pulled the wagon down the driveway. 

"My point is," he said loudly, "I will be doting on my entire family all night long, and there's nothing you can do about it. Please keep your arms and legs inside the royal carriage until we come to a complete stop."

He very dutifully pulled up to each house before lifting Noah out and taking him up to collect his piece of candy. Bradley got the chance to enjoy so many of his neighbors telling him how sweet his son looked, and he kept reminding Noah to say thank you. After about an hour, two treat bags had been filled up with candy, and you looked like you were having fun. You even started waving from the wagon at everyone you passed like a real princess would.

"This is really fun," you said, holding on to Noah as Bradley turned another corner. 

"I love Halloween!" his son shouted. 

Truthfully, it was a bit of a challenge for Bradley to pull the wagon, keep Skittles from barking at the other kids, and take Noah up to each house and back, but he wasn't about to complain. Not after everything you'd done and been through while he was in Japan. But he would sleep well tonight. That was a given. 

"I think this was the last house," Bradley said, stifling his own yawn. "Feel like chatting about our wedding on the way back home?" he asked as Noah yawned as well and settled down in the wagon with you.

It was hard to read your face in the darkness. "What do you want to chat about?" you asked softly.

"How soon will you let me marry you?"

You laughed and said, "How soon do you want to get married?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Hmm," you hummed. "Seems like that would be short notice for wedding guests."

"We don't need wedding guests," he said, and he meant it. "You still want to use our backyard?"

"Yes."

Bradley slowed down over a particularly uneven part of the sidewalk. "Are you still set on Valentine's Day?  Because I'm thinking Christmas."

"Christmas?" you repeated. "Like less than two months from now?"

Bradley pulled the wagon up the driveway past the Bronco, and of course Noah was sound asleep. As soon as he scooped his son off of your lap, Nat came rushing over from her seat on the porch. "I can get him changed and put him in bed."

He didn't argue with her, rather he handed Noah off and focused on helping you out of the wagon. "Yeah. Less than two months from now. I keep thinking about how you threw me a Christmas in July birthday party. We could have a Christmas wedding, too. And after that, we can start the adoption process."

You moaned his name as he took your hand and headed for the house. "You know the way to my heart is through Noah."

He straightened out your crown, still rather fond of your purple one which was sitting safely on his dresser. "Is that a yes?" he whispered, kissing you softly while a few remaining kids ran down the sidewalk laughing. "We can make it official? And I can take care of you forever?"

"Yes."

------------------------------

Bradley helped you out of your princess costume after he stripped out of his knight costume, and his lips met the bare skin of your shoulder immediately. "I love you," he murmured, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the bed. But it didn't feel sexual. You knew that wasn't why he was being exceptionally wonderful right now.

"I love you, too."

His forehead came to rest against yours, and his hands were so gentle on your hips. "I'm just relieved to be home. And I'm sorry I wasn't here last week. If something worse had happened to you while I was gone, when you really needed me, I don't know what I would have done."

"We're all okay," you whispered, pushing him until he was sitting down on the bed looking up at you. "And I feel a lot better since I've been resting more." Your skin felt warm and tingly as he kissed you. Six weeks was a long time, and you knew Bradley hadn't even had access to all of the photos and videos on his phone to keep him company. And you did want it to feel sexual, because you missed every bit of him.

"Lay back on your pillow and wait for me," you told Bradley with a smile, using his words against him. 

He did as he was told and patted the spot next to him as he said, "Does that mean you're ready to snuggle with me?"

"Something like that, Daddy."

As soon as you licked your lips and reached for the front of his sweatpants, his eyes went wider. "No, Baby. You don't have to do that."

"I want to," you promised, pulling the fabric down to reveal his soft length. He still looked delicious even like this. You desperately wanted him in your mouth. You met his eyes and whispered, "Please?"

He was panting softly, the rise and fall of his chest so alluring even through his undershirt. He moaned your name and made a strangled sound before he reached for your hand. When he sat up slowly and kissed you gently, he placed your hand on his cock, and he immediately throbbed for you. 

As you rubbed your thumb down his length and along his balls, he grew harder. "You missed me touching you like this," you sang in a quiet voice, watching him as he watched your hand. When his eyes flitted back to your face he nodded. "Tell me you did, Bradley."

He swallowed hard, and his voice was so raspy, your hand faltered. "I missed you like this. I thought about your body when I touched myself, but my hands aren't as soft and perfect as yours."

"Daddy," you whimpered, leaning down to kiss away his precum before taking him between your lips.

But he continued on as you sucked, driving you as wild as you were driving him. "I thought about you with a pregnant belly. I thought about how much I'm going to love fucking you when you're big and round. Big because of my baby."

You took him deep, letting him tap the back of your throat as you saw stars along your vision. "Fuck! Princess! I'm not even gonna last."

Slowly, you let your lips glide back up his length, sucking all the way to his tip. "Then just go ahead and come, Daddy. I want you to."

When he collapsed back against the pillow and tucked one arm beneath his head, you took him deep again. He wasn't kidding, because you could see the veins in his neck as his face grew pink, and you knew he was already close. You didn't rush him along, but you bobbed to a pace that left him grabbing at the bedding with his free hand.

"Baby!" he whined, rolling his hips up until you were starting to gag, and then he came. You were sputtering, swallowing him down as quickly as you could as your name fell from his lips over and over again. "Come up here," he demanded, and when you crawled toward him as you licked your lips clean, he gathered you carefully in his arms.

You never felt as loved as you did when you were with him. His body was perfectly warm and everything you had been missing. His voice calmed every part of you. "December," he whispered as he played with your engagement ring. It took you a moment to realize what he meant as he kissed at your lips. "December. We'll get married. We'll all be Bradshaws. Me and you and Noah and the baby. That's all I need."

"And Skittles."

"Please. She's my best non-human friend. It's unspoken."

--------------------------

When Bradley promised to meet you at your lunchtime appointment with your obstetrician on Wednesday, you were a little skeptical. 

"Even if I have to flip off Admiral Simpson and tell him to go fuck himself, I will be there."

You had laughed at the time, but you should have known he wouldn't miss a chance to interrogate your doctor in his flight suit. He stood next to you as you were told to lie back on the table for a pelvic exam, and he kept his eyes on you through the uncomfortable experience, looking down at you like you were the best thing in the world. 

"Does she need another progesterone shot today?" he asked softly as you reached for his hand. "And are you going to monitor her with more appointments? And will we get to see an ultrasound?"

"Yes, yes, and yes." Your doctor looked at you and said, "We'll monitor you more closely even after you're done with the injections. We are going to consider you high risk."

"High risk?" you gasped. "That sounds very bad."

"It's not!" he insisted as he guided you to sit up a little bit. "It just means you and the baby get extra attention."

Bradley looked the doctor in the eye and said, "She wants to go to Disneyland for a day or two. Is that even okay?"

You were ready to pout and tell both of them that you felt fine now. There had been no more blood. You were getting plenty of rest. Then he said the words you'd been hoping to hear. "Disneyland would be fine. Just don't overdo it."

"Yes!" you cheered. "Noah will be so excited! Let's go for Thanksgiving!"

Bradley opened his mouth, and you could tell he wanted to protest, but your doctor started to spread gel on your belly, and then the baby was visible on the screen on the wall when the ultrasound started up. "Oh damn," Bradley whispered, suddenly mesmerized by what he saw as he gripped your hand tighter. "Look at the heartbeat. Look at the baby."

"Does he or she look healthy?" you asked, mesmerized as well.

"Very healthy, but we will keep a close eye on things."

When Bradley walked you back to your car which was parked next to the Bronco, you pulled him to a stop. You wrapped your arms around his waist, and your scrubs rubbed gently against his flight suit. "Will you please let me plan a few days at Disneyland?"

"Two days," he replied immediately, clearly already resigned to his fate. "And you have to stay hydrated. And if you even start to look tired, I'm going to push you around in a wheelchair. And if you say anything hurts, we're leaving immediately."

"Disney!" you practically screamed as you bobbed up and down in his grasp and kissed his cheek. "I can't wait to tell Noah! I'll see you at home later, Daddy."

"I'll pick Noah up along with dinner. When I get home you better have your feet up and a glass of water in your hand."

"I will," you promised, matching his serious expression with one of your own. "I'll be very careful. And I'll plan our little vacation. And you'll take exceptional care of everything else."

"You know I will."

--------------------------

We should all have a Bradley in our lives to let us rest and heal when we need to. That man is going to take care of everything and probably plan a wedding, too. Is Nat also going to Disneyland? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 58

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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@wintercap89

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@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: An unlikely encounter brings you and Cassian together, resulting in a decade - long obsession born out of lust and hatred. tw: female reader, hinted non-con, abuse/violence, obsession, jealousy, misogyny, degradation, slut-shaming, bullying, threats, choking, religious trauma, religious imagery, religious inaccuracy My ko - fi <3

Cassian still remembered the day you first met, the one he dreaded the most - the early spring warmth mixing with the smell of frost-hidden snowdrops. The earth being cleansed and reborn after a long, sluggish winter filled with challenges for the sinners' burning souls. Back then he was still working at the altar, freshly out of high school - barely nineteen, somewhere between a confused boy and a man of Christ.

He was called to fetch water from the well - it was nothing out of the ordinary, this was the sole reason he was part of the church, to help the elders with baptising and burying the dead. He was coming back with a rushed step when he saw you - bumped into you, to be exact. You were wearing a light white dress that covered just above the middle of your thighs, your ankles and feet fully exposed with just a pair of brown flowery sandals to go along with. You looked a bit older than the boy - maybe two or three years, he decided, as there was something mature in your beauty, an air of influence most girls his age didn't possess yet.

It all happened so fast - Cassian gasped in surprise as the water spilt all over you, sticking to each and every little crack and hem of your thin cotton dress. The wet fabric hugged all your curves, as if damp just to tempt him. He immediately looked down, covering his face with one hand as he tried to collect the fallen jug with the other, cheeks beet red. You, in turn, smiled playfully, reaching for the small pot before the man could grab it. You wiggled it in the air, laughing with your teeth out - glowing in the soft sunlight. He mumbled something incoherent, perhaps begging you to return it - but you were quick on your feet, running towards the river with the tool in hand, your soft giggles bursting like bubbles.

The boy hesitated for a second before eventually following after you, innocent brown eyes widening with a mix of fear and surprise, heart beating violently against his chest - this was the first time he was so close to a woman. After chasing you around the forest for a while, he stopped to catch his breath just to realise he had lost you somewhere along the way. He looked around, already panicking - too frightened to even begin imagining how the elders would react once they knew he had lost the ceremonial canna. 

“Looking for this?” You suddenly called out to him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your pink lips. He quickly turned to face you, blushing once again as he spotted you sitting among the rocks surrounding the stream with the sun caught in your loosened locks - and his jug in your soft palms. You looked just like the nymphs his mentor had warned him about - cruel, whimsical creatures, yet painfully, breathtakingly beautiful. They liked to trick lost travellers and lonely shepherds, taking their soul for all eternity. 

Cassian took a deep breath and mouthed a quick prayer to his patron, bringing his hands together. He could do this. He wouldn’t be swayed by you no matter how cunning you may be - for his soul belonged to Christ and Christ alone.

“Stealing is a g-grave sin, Miss.” The boy exclaimed, voice shaky yet unrelenting as he took a step towards you. “So please return the can to me at once!” This time he sounded almost breathless, whiny like a mere child. You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your parted lips. “Aww, no need to get mad. I am simply borrowing it.” You cooed at the disciple with slight mockery, pretending to eye the item in your hands with great interest. 

“I am n-not mad!” Cassian swiftly contested, crossing his arms to appear more intimidating, if that was even possible. “I am just frustrated - righteously so, since y-you took something that belongs to me, and refuse to give it back.” He continued, puffing his chest out towards you in annoyance. You found his attempts to convince you utterly adorable - but the only thing they accomplished was making you want to pick on him even more. “If you want it so bad, come and get it!” You egged him on, dingling it just above his head once again.

Then suddenly, just for a split second, something in his eyes changed. The brown turned dark and muddy, almost glowing with fury, his teeth grazing his cheek until he could taste the blood on his tongue - and next thing you knew, he had pushed you into the stream, soaked up to your chin. You started coughing, desperate to keep the water out of your lungs, but his hand pressed heavy against your chest, shoving you towards the very bottom of the river.

It was your turn to panic, cheeks heating up with uncertainty. You looked up at Cassian with soft, pleading eyes - begging him to let go. It was all too much for the sheltered boy - your prior teasing, your pitiful gaze, your warm skin shivering against the drenched, transparent clothing, leaving little to the imagination… He subconsciously began tugging at his tight golden collar, feeling the cold sweat creep upon his neck - then he slowly released you, letting your body rise up to the top without any added weight on it.

The disciple stared at your trembling form for what felt like eternity, unable to look away. Soon enough you came to your senses, scurrying to cover your breasts - but despite your best attempts at hiding, his fervent gaze kept threatening to burn a hole into your flesh. You opened your mouth to say something, perhaps an apology of sorts, or even an accusation - yet no sound came out. 

And just like that the boy was gone.

***

Cassian cried the whole night, he cried his little heart out, hugging the Mary Magdalen icon close to his chest - hoping, praying that he could be redeemed. He was sick, utterly sick. The way he had felt, the way his body had reacted to you - it was sinister, devilish, unholy. Something completely unbecoming of the sacred figure he aspired to become once his altar duties were finished. He was supposed to be different, a beam of light in a crowd of darkness and misery, and now he was filthy, reeking of sin - of you.

His racing thoughts left him restless, unable to close his eyes. He had no other option left - he had to confide in his mentor, it was the right thing to do. It was going to be alright, he tried to rationalise. Repent, and you will be saved. A sin admitted is a sin resolved and punished from within, from your very core. That’s what the elders always said - sin was human, but deceit was intentional, it meant that your soul was purposely straying away from God’s love and protection. The ones who were truthful and eager to accept their faults could still ascend to Heaven.

And Cassian was lucky - so, so lucky, because his mentor proved understanding to the troubles of his soul. He reassured him, taking him into his arms, the smell of incense and wax and home enough to soothe any heartache. The old man smiled gently, petting his hair - telling him that beauty was a Godly virtue, and there was nothing wrong with admiring it for his body itself was a fruit of desire and love. Then once the boy had stopped sobbing, his breathing finally even, the priest pulled him to the side and reminded him that he was one of his best students, and as such he simply could not be tempted and swayed by the weakness of the flesh. The deacon had seen him - had felt the cleaness in his eyes, and that’s precisely why he had chosen him; for his unyielding chastity and goodness. And he was never wrong about his pupils - so it was obviously the woman’s fault. 

Cassian could understand it now, clear as day. You had tempted him. You had stolen his sleep and his tears like a siren, like a Jezebel. But that was fine, completely fine. It was all part of the big plan. Temptation was good - faith always had its challenges, and he’d be damned if he let someone as wretched as you lure him into severing his ties to God. This was his future. This church was his home, and so it would remain. He would become the next deacon of Holy Agnes, and you would be no obstacle. Just an underwater stone - a bug he had to crush so he could be free and whole again.

***

Several years passed by with a snap of a finger. Cassian slowly matured, soft cheeks and bright eyes turning sharp and mundane with his newfound restraint. He had adapted some level of unconscious stoicism, set on raising above the lowly human needs. And yet he kept seeing you everywhere he went, like a ghost of the past.

Sometimes you were in the garden by his church, laughing and smiling with avid colours covering your body. Countless dingley pearly bracelets stacked one on top of the other heaving on your little wrists like a fire circle. You were loud, never one to suppress your silvery ringing voice. Other times you were sitting by the nearby lake, sewing or knitting, writing in a worn out notebook with fleeting papers all over your lap. You were in the bakery he walked by after Mass, on the opposite side of the farmer alley he frequented on the Sabbath. Always just a breath away, but never quite close enough. 

He wanted to touch you. He wanted to drag you in by your hair and yell in your ear until it bled - you, who so innocently strolled left and right with your pretty twirly dresses and skirts that never covered your knees, you with your naked hands parading around the park with nothing on your mind, but rainbows and sunshine. As if you didn’t know you had ruined his youth with aching sickness over you - as if you didn’t care he had spent countless hours agonising, wondering whether he’d see you again. Wondering whether he’ll be able to hold back from reaching out and completely devouring you. 

Were you looking for attention, looking so bubbly and careless, bright shouting colours on display? Were you hoping to tempt him again by showing all this vulnerable, ripe skin? Had you completely forgotten about that unlikely encounter that was permanently engraved into his memory with the burning mark of hellfire itself? 

Because it certainly seemed so when the whole village was whispering about you and your countless misdeeds. People were saying that you were pursuing a crafting clerkship in the nearby town - that you were travelling alone, or in the company of strange men, sleeping in unknown taverns on the road for days. Drinking and drowning in debauchery. Rumours had it that you would give yourself away to the highest bidder, thus being able to fund all those adventurous trips across the land. 

Cassian didn’t want to believe them, and he refused to partake in the tired, painfully repetitive conversations of the common folk who flocked to the church for warmth and food like a herd of sheep to a master. To him tattle was a sin of itself, a needless effort to drop the Lord’s name in vain just to curse a harlot or to mock an innocent, unsuspecting widow - but from day to day their words became harsher, crueller, ungodly. You were made to look like Lilith herself, and he couldn’t help believing what he could feel with his own heart.

It was a simple fact, really. You were just a whore, and nothing more - because he could clearly see you clinging to another man’s shoulder through the small glazed window of his, pushing your chest towards the dark stranger - laughing unabashedly at his jokes, gazing into his eyes, prompting him to claim your sweet lips. You were a whore, because you let them all have you, yet you belonged to neither. Not even to him - not even when you appeared in his dreams, tormenting him even in the comfort of his own psyche. 

You would share your warmth with him then, caressing him - letting him rest against your soft breasts, letting him inhale your tantalising aroma. Teasing him endlessly, just to disappear at dawn, just before he had his final fill of you. And just like that the cycle repeated, driving him crazy.

***

It was another warm spring day when you two met again face to face. When he saw you, hair dishevelled and clothes torn apart, he thought he was still dreaming - but you were even more beautiful, even more radiant now. That’s how he knew you were real. He could finally touch you, he could smell the salt and morning dew on your skin, could lick the tears off your puffy, swollen eyes.

You had been dragged to the church early in the morning by the wife of the mayor, kicking and screaming. The older woman had been furiously gripping your wrist, forcing you to trip after her in a desperate attempt to keep up. Once inside the ceremonial hall, she had pushed you down at the deacon’s feet like a sacrificial lamb before a pagan god’s altar.

“Martha, dear, what’s wrong?” Cassian was quick to intervene before the woman could mess you up even more. “You know it’s unbecoming of a lady of such wise age to engage in this ungodly behaviour.” He explained calmly - it was obvious that he held no wrath for her, and this was all just a performance. The mayoress was very influential in the village, so he had to be careful with his words, lest you’d both be in trouble.

“Oh, Cassian, Cassian!” The wife all but crumbled against the man, heavy, accusatory sobs strangling her speech. “This harlot has done it again! She tried to destroy another family.” Martha kept wailing in a theatrical way, hanging off the deacon’s white collar. “My family, Reverend! I saw her talking to my husband, oh, it was utterly despicable! I might faint just thinking about it.” She rambled on and on, cheeks turning comically red. “She must be possessed by the Devil - I see no other explanation behind her constant sinful endeavours.” She fluttered her lashes as if attempting to persuade the deacon, going as far as to use the title only given to priests. “I beg you, Father, do something. Teach her the right way, make her repent. Our village can’t keep tolerating these… these outrageous conducts!”

You looked up at him just as he lowered his head to you, your eyes meeting. Your orbs were wide and filled with fright just like that day in the forest when he had pushed you into the river. You were gripping the end of his robes pitifully, tearfully shaking your head as if trying to deny all those ugly lies, mouthing off little sounds he couldn’t quite understand - and just like that he was nineteen again, sweating and mad all over you, lost in your sweet pleas for help. And help you’d receive.

“Calm your senses, Martha. I will deal with this.” Cassian patted the wife’s shoulder reassuringly, nodding at the big gate leading to the garden. “You must not worry anymore, you know you have a weak heart. Just - just go home for the day.” He looked at you one last time, and the sheer black burning intensity of his gaze made you shiver. “I know what to do from here.” He made an airy gesture at the older woman, smiling benevolently. “You’re right. Enough is enough.” 

With that she finally left, satisfied that some order would be restored ultimately. The hall remained silent for a while; massive, dim-lit, over-decorated with various gorgons, demons and monsters - designed specifically to scare those who wouldn’t give in to salvation. “Leave us alone.” The man mumbled at last, snapping his fingers at the altar servants and nuns, who in turn hurriedly flocked to the back rooms, nowhere to be seen. You could feel the tears drying on your skin from the freezing cold air, leaving trails all over your scorching hot cheeks. He was observing you carefully, scared to miss even the slightest of reactions - your pain was so expressive he wanted to seal the memory forever in his brain. After all, he had dreamt of this for years. The day when he finally has you at his mercy with nowhere to go. 

“I see that you’ve decided to succumb to a life of sin.” Cassian started off haughtily, moving just a bit closer - you were still kneeling on the floor as if you had assumed an eternal repenting pose. His fingertips grazed against your chin, his touch radiating pure ice - cold frost as his head tilted down in rehearsed condescension. “It’s quite unfortunate to see someone so beautiful give up on Christ.” He continued, eyes practically glued to your quivering form from above. It was intoxicating to have you in this position, quivering below him. He wanted to see you like this all the time, he decided. It suited you to be underneath him - you were a filthy, wicked adulterer and he was your saviour. He deserved your worship. He deserved your pain, and everything that would come with it. 

“But then again, you’ve always been a temptress.” The man crouched next to you, quick as a snake - gripping your chin between his two fingers. “It must be oh-so difficult for you to act like an honest woman.” His grip got tighter. “Especially when you possess such a dirty, sinful bod–

“S-shut up!” You cried out, pushing yourself to stand on your knees. “Shut up, you know nothing of me, Reverend. You look at me with those eyes… Don’t think I don’t remember.” You hissed, suddenly gaining back the courage the woman had knocked out of you earlier, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “I’ve seen you follow me, I’ve seen you in my nightmares… You want me! You want me, and it’s driving you insane.” You gave him the cruellest look you could muster.

“The dirty one, the sinful one is you - you, and every single bastard in this goddamn village that seems to think they own me.” You spat it out, everything that had been building up over the past few months. The hurtful rumours, the nasty remarks on the streets, the way everyone was measuring you up, touching you without permission… This was your breaking point. “You don’t own me. You never will.”

Cassian was seeing red. Before he could even begin to summon any reason, his hands had tangled into your hair, pulling on it with malice he had never experienced before in his life. He was a being of love and kindness - yet any time he faced you, he turned to this gruesome, unholy beast of a man. It was all your fault. You had ruined him, since the moment you first met him you had been ruining him. You made him like this and there was no going back now. No amount of tears or pretty pleads could save you from the horrors that inevitably awaited you in Hell - the one on Earth. The one he was going to create just for you. Anything for you.

“Do not sully me with this blasphemous tongue of yours, wench. Don’t you dare utter a single word to me, lest you want to lose it.” The man hissed, venom dripping off every over pronounced syllable. His whole body was shaking with fury, skin red and painful as if on fire. One wrong movement could set him off into a flame that would kill you both. “I don’t want to hear a sound from those tainted lips of yours. Who knows how many have kissed them, hmm?” His face got dangerously close to yours - so close you could feel his warm breath across your cheek. Your heart was pounding violently against your chest in a fruitless attempt to escape the rib cage. You tried to push the deacon off you, but he didn’t bulge an inch. 

“Aww, you’re going to hurt me with the same hands you caress your lovers with?” He grinned manically - you had never seen a man so unhinged. You had always known he was dangerously unstable as the forest incident had proven - which was the reason you kept your distance over the years, but you could never imagine he’d be so… bloodthirsty. “Have you got no shame?” Cassian was spiralling, going in mental circles. 

He finally had you in his arms again, your skin warm and malleable against his - yet the only thing he could think of was all those men you had allowed by your side over the years. It was like he could see their fingerprints all over you, red and scorching on your body as if to mock him. As if to laugh at him for ever trying to fight the temptation in the first place. Your lips were wet and pink, so perfect and vulnerable trembling before him, just begging to be bitten. He reached in to kiss you - just like he had done so many times in his dreams, but he was met with your equally wet, cold cheek instead. You had turned your head away.

“Anyone, but me, huh?” The man screamed at the top of his lungs, beyond wild as he shoved you to the ground, crawling over your body in quick succession. You felt the blood drain from your face - could this be your final moment? “You are willing to give yourself to anyone, but the one who actually deserves you…” His hands travelled to your neck as if they had a mind of their own, voice suddenly dropping to a desperate, shaky whisper. “The one who craves you more than anything.” His fingers danced over your throat, holding your life in one tight grasp.

“What do you mea–”

“All my life I’ve been a good man.” Cassian interrupted you once again, tone back to its initial biting spite. “An honest man, goddammit! And I am not going to lose everything because of… because of some fucking whore!” His words aimed at your heart just like daggers, and your eyes watered. You squirmed like an injured animal, praying to whoever was up in the sky that he would release you, but God wasn’t so merciful to sinners, apparently. “So you’re going to kiss me, right here, right now.” He was holding your wrists over your chest as he positioned himself between your legs. This couldn’t be happening right now, but it was. You were doomed, you had been doomed from the start. 

“You’re going to kiss me like you kiss your lovers.” The deacon paused to lick the tear running down your chin, groaning at the heavenly taste. You wanted to drop dead. “Like you love me.” He pressed down on your neck, squeezing tighter just so your eyes would fill up with hundreds of tiny little tears - it made you look so glossy and cute. “Did you hear me? You are going to kiss me like you fucking love me, you damned slut.” Your face was turning blue from the lack of oxygen. 

“And then I am going to fuck the Devil out of you.”

[anniebeemine]

All In- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of nudity and strip poker, Spencer's far too smug for his own good

Spencer placed a hand on your shoulder. “Want to play a card ga-”

“No.”

Spencer smirked. “Alright.” He patted the headrest of the seat, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. You turned your attention back to the book in your hands, feeling his gaze on you even without looking up.

Emily, who had witnessed your immediate refusal, looked at you in surprise. Her eyes then flicked to Spencer, noticing his seemingly neutral expression. She mistook it for hurt, but you knew better. You could almost feel the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, a sure sign that his rejection was more of a challenge than a disappointment.

“Go play cards with your man,” Emily said, nudging your leg with her foot. “You can’t just leave him hanging.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing full well what Spencer was up to. His insistence on playing cards, despite your disinterest, was his way of getting you to engage. You shook your head. “He cheats.”

Before Emily could ask what you meant, Spencer spoke up. “It’s not cheating!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “It’s definitely cheating if you’re using your charm to distract me from winning.”

Spencer’s grin widened as he began shuffling the deck with a practiced flick of his wrist. “I prefer to think of it as making the game more enjoyable.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how exactly does he manage that?”

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say, I have a few tricks up my sleeve—both in cards and in making sure Y/N is never bored.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s impossible. But he’s right about one thing. Playing cards with him is never boring.” You turned to look at Spencer. “I am never playing cards with you again.”

Emily's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity piqued. “How bad did he get you?”

The last time you’d engaged in a card game with Spencer on the jet, you’d lost all of your peanuts. The game carried on after you made it home when you pulled out the jar of caramel sweets you had been rationing.

Emily’s eyes widened even more. “Wow, he really got you then. That’s impressive... and ruthless.”

You nodded with a resigned smile. “Exactly. And let’s just say that when Spencer suggested a game of strip poker, I decided to call it quits. I wasn’t about to lose anything else, especially not my dignity.” Then, he’d gotten every article of clothing, save your bra and panties.

Spencer chuckled, clearly enjoying the recollection. “Hey, it’s all in good fun. I thought it would spice things up a bit.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two. I’d never have guessed that Spencer had a side like that.”

You leaned in, grinning. “Oh, you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. But don’t worry, I’m sticking to less risky games from now on. My wardrobe and my dignity are safe for the foreseeable future. It took me weeks to find the bra on top of the bookshelf.”

As the jet continued its smooth flight, you found yourself settled next to Spencer, the gentle hum of the engines creating a calming backdrop. Despite your earlier declaration, you couldn’t resist the challenge when Spencer nudged the deck of cards toward you.

“So, are you sure you don’t want to play?” he asked with a playful grin.

You considered it for a moment, your competitive spirit getting the better of you. “Alright, fine. But this time, I’m not betting anything.”

Spencer shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. The game began, and it wasn’t long before you felt the familiar sinking feeling. Despite your best efforts, Spencer’s deft card skills quickly put you at a disadvantage. Within the first few rounds, it became clear that you were on the losing end.

“Already?” Spencer teased, raising an eyebrow as he watched you reluctantly put down your hand.

You sighed dramatically, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Well, I guess I’m not as lucky today.”

He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Seems like I might need to raise the stakes again.”

“Behave.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice. But you know, it’s all in good fun.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The jet was quiet, the rest of the team either asleep or engrossed in their own activities, making the hum of the engines the only consistent sound in the background. He leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur.

“You know,” he began, his eyes glinting with mischief, “if you want, we could play for something a bit more... interesting.”

You looked up from the book you were pretending to read, suspicious of the tone in his voice. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Spencer?”

His smirk deepened as he continued to shuffle the cards with a practiced flick of his wrist. “How about this—if you win, you get your underwear back.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “Wait a minute… you’re telling me you have my underwear?”

Spencer’s grin widened as he nodded, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Maybe. They’ve been in a safe place, I promise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, recalling the times when you’d been missing certain articles of clothing after your last game. “I’ve been searching everywhere for those! I thought they were lost in the laundry or something.”

He chuckled, his amusement evident as he dealt out a few cards for himself. “Or something. But, you know, if you’re not up for it…”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him bait you into another one of his games. “I’m not playing. I’m done losing things to you," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Spencer simply shrugged, shifting his focus to the cards as he began a game of solitaire. His fingers moved deftly, the cards slipping into place effortlessly, but the smirk on his face never faded. He glanced at you, clearly enjoying your stubborn refusal to play along.

You huffed, unable to resist the challenge in his eyes. The idea of winning back what was rightfully yours—and wiping that smirk off his face—was too tempting to ignore. After all, you’d managed to get back almost everything else, and you weren’t about to let Spencer have the last laugh.

“Alright, fine,” you finally relented, setting your book down with a sigh.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Too Old to Trick-or-Treat

When the doorbell rang, I did not expect to be seeing an 18 year-old standing on the doorstep. Nevertheless, I grabbed my bowl of candy and greeted him with my best Transylvanian accent. The handsome young man flashed me a winning smile and stuck out his chest.

"Trick or treat!" he charmed, "It's Brandon from down the street. By the way, that vampire costume is sick!"

I rolled my eyes, "Brandon, aren't you a bit old for trick-or-treating?"

"What's it to you, dude? Aren't you a bit old to be dressing up?" Brandon laughed, "I'm just killing time 'till my friends pick me up."

A small sigh escaped my throat. Brandon's friends were as careless as he was. Countless mailboxes had been smashed over the last few months, and I had a sneaking suspicion of who was responsible. Brandon may put on a good performance during the day, but he was quite the rebellious vandal at night.

"Wait here, Brandon. I have something special for you..."

"Hope it's a king-sized candy bar!" he called as I slipped back into my house.

With quiet steps, I retreated back to my study, where I kept all my ancient texts and spell books. My family has practiced witchcraft for centuries, and I knew just the thing to help Brandon grow up.

"Here you are, Clark Kent," I said, handing the young man an enticing little pastry.

"Damn, that looks good," he gasped before scarfing the baked good down, "That was the best cookie I've ever had!"

I smiled inwardly and leaned against the doorpost to watch. Brandon looked confused when he suddenly noticed a stinging sensation in his stomach. He groaned in shock as his stomach rumbled louder and louder. He held his belly nervously and looked at me with panic.

"Woah, what was in that thing?"

A loud belch bubbled up his throat and sounded out of his mouth. All his thoughts and worries seemed to leave with the air from his stomach because his face slackened immediately after the burp. He kind of slumped back into a relaxed standing position, and a physical transformation began happening all over his young body.

His gut gurgled and bubbled outward as his spine stretched taller. Mass seemed to spawn all over his frame as his metabolism rapidly aged. The skin on his face seemed to sag and age as wiry hairs burst out of his cheeks.

"Wow, you've aged quite well," I noted, suddenly stunned by manly body wearing a tight costume in front of me.

Brandon seemed to snap out of his stupor, and glanced at his surroundings. Something seemed off to him. He was unaccustomed to his sudden change in height.

"What just happened?" a much deeper tone surprised the young man.

"You needed to grow up, Brandon."

"What?" he began to notice his new body with panic, "Why am I fat and hairy all over?"

"This is just your body in 20 years. I just made it come a lot faster."

"Woah! Dude, change me back," he begged, "This is gross! God, I look just like my dad."

I chuckled at the guy. It's not so often you see a grown man like this in a tight Superman costume, whining like a child. I decided I might have him stick around for a little bit.

"I'm not changing you back," I explained deviously, "But I will change your thoughts..."

"What?" he scoffed.

"... It'll be easier for you to accept your new body if you have a new mind to go with it. It's not like you can go back home or hang out with your friends looking ike this. Can you?"

"You can't change my thoughts-"

"Babe, get back inside!" I suddenly chastized him.

He looks confused for a moment. A whole minute passed where his brain seemed to be loading the new information, and then said, "Ok, babe."

"I love the costume on you, babe," I add, patting his round gut, "Even though you've packed on a few pounds since our wedding."

Brandon blushed beneath his hairy face and felt his chest self-consciously. He looked embarrassed about his heavy frame.

"You know I like a little pudge though," I added, "Hey, while I'm on candy duty, do you mind cleaning out the gutters in the back? The fall leaves clogged them up again, and I know how you love taking care of things around the house."

"Sure thing, babe," he gave me a peck on the cheek and steps down the hallway.

"You really are my superhero!" I called, watching his big ass move in those tight superhero pants.

"And you're my evil villain," he heartily laughed before stepping outside to do what I asked.

It was going to be nice having Brandon around for awhile. I was determined to teach him the pleasures of a mature and stable lifestyle. Sure, he' was taking care of all my yardwork and house chores for the next few weeks, but I really just did this for his own good.

I was ready to train him to be the perfect little husband, and part of that involved enjoying that tight superhero costume he's squeezed into at the moment.

[maximumkillshot]

I Won't Lose You- ICLY 7.5

Warnings: Cheater POV, a lot of not nice things are said. Definitely something to think about if you are sensitive to that type of subject matter, cursing, some air of grand diosity,

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Characters: Chris, Seungmin

A/N: So a lot of people have been wondering what Chan has been thinking... Welp... You get what you wish for... even though it ain't pretty.  I wanted to punch him writing it. This is after Chris gets banned from the hospital room. Since it is following him and not the reader, I decided to give it a different name, with the annotation being 7.5. Happy anger management people!

ALL THE SKZ IRL ARE CINNAMON ROLLS THIS IS A FICTION- IT'S FAKE.

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ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

BEFORE:

Han looked up at Bin, trying to will himself not to cry. The both of you are so sweet, so kind. He could see the weight on Bin’s shoulders, crushing him. He could see it in his head, Bin keeping everything bad from crashing on top of you, his arms outstretched, using his whole body as a shield. Han knew that if it meant keeping you safe, Bin would carry the world. That’s what separated Bin from Chris. 

Both may be fond of you. Only one has ever put your safety over everything. Only one ever made you feel heard and seen. Only one ever made you laugh until you cried. Only one would take off work to take care of you when you’re sick. Only one made you understand that there is no priority above you. Only one would calm you with just a touch. Only one truly loves you with their heart and soul. That “only one” was in the bed with you right now. 

Han watched, eventually just letting the tears fall as Bin held you saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, I’m sorry. I love you… I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me.”

That was the first time Changbin had ever let himself say it out loud, “I love you so much it hurts…I Can’t Lose You.”

NOW:

Chan’s POV:

I have never seen Y/N like that. A part of me wants to say that it was something that was a freak accident, that Soo and I were a freak accident. We weren’t. Y/N deserves to know that, to have it acknowledged. I want to scream that I regret it, that I want to take it all back, that I wanted to erase it all. That would be a lie.

You can’t regret something that you actually initiated. I don’t regret what I did. I wanted a release, I got a release. I wanted to feel exhilaration, I got it. What I am sorry for is getting caught. Of course I’d never say this out loud but, the truth is my marriage was a means to an end. She loves me, of course… and I love her… to an extent. I loved it when she would perk up when I came home, or be passed out on the couch, waiting for me to come home. In a lot of ways, Y/N is like a puppy. She would do all the tricks in the book to make me happy. If she was lucky, she’d get rewarded. 

 There is an even more fucked up part of me that is relieved that she knows. Sneaking around wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was making it look like I was with the boys when I wasn’t. Y/N is so close to the boys it was a pain in the ass, all it would’ve taken was one text and right there my cover would be blown. I know that I can come back from this, though. Soo never held a candle to my wife. I just told Soo whatever she wanted to hear. I made it worth it for her to do what she wanted… what we wanted, who am I kidding, I wanted it. 

Everything is still so raw, she’s not really going to leave. I know she told me when we started dating, but I know that I can prove myself to her. She is the type to really believe that everyone is good inherently. It was something that I used to every advantage, if I’m honest. I’m obviously better than Changbin. I make more, I am more level headed… obviously… I am willing to do whatever I need to make sure I get what I want. How could she want anyone else? That’s like trading in a top of the line Ferrari for a beat up 1999 Taurus. Plus, she always gives people second chances. This is all one giant hiccup.

While the rest of the boys and I filed into the elevator, I heard her voice. She was so scared, I couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, it was so meek, fragile… weak. That’s really the only downside to her. She is weak. Her emotions get the better of her always. Given, what happened would make anyone go crazy, but at the end of the day, she can’t keep control over her emotions. She is the type of person to read a room and follow the tone of the room. She isn’t a trendsetter, a leader. The only reason why the boys are the way that they are is because she is hurt. Something about their “white knight” complexes. Honestly I could puke just thinking about it. While they were playing games, painting, or just practicing on vocal technique, I was ensuring their continued employment. That will never change about her though. She folds under pressure. Like a skeleton with no spine. Sometimes it was exhausting, others amusing; that’s the biggest tell as to her coming back. She has no spine without me. She needs me… just like everyone else. 

Knowing the woman Y/N is I knew that for her to be this way, she had to hurt so badly. It ripped my heart out, seeing her finding comfort in another person, almost as much as knowing that I was the one to do all of it to her. It made me look so bad, to everyone. Hearing Changbin call out to Han that she was slipping, I’ve never heard a voice like that before. I’ve never heard screams like hers. I should’ve never tested her, calling our child “it”. She has been trying so hard, comforting me non-stop, that it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, that she’ll be on top of it. To let me know in the cutest way. Nothing’s more cute than finding out on your third anniversary that your family is going to get bigger. 

It hurt me saying that, calling them “it”, that was exactly why I knew it would get the job done. I needed to peel her away from Changbin without touching her, but it worked a little too well. Why was I punsihing her, punishing them? I think the answer to that is simple. I don’t want the attention on me. Which is counterintuitive, given my natural tendencies. Right now, in this moment, I don’t want to be acknowledged. The way that they see me right now threatens everything I worked for, and it looks like everyone chose their side to stand on. Me giving them more of a chance to hate me is only going to make my job down the road harder.

I think some of the boys could tell. I am royally pissed. I got caught, which for one is annoying, but for all of them to take her side? That was infuriating. I spent so long honing them, training them. I always protected them, supported them. It is infuriating to have people that you did everything for to just dismiss you. Why were’nt they comforting me? That child was mine too. Why am I not getting any condolences? Hell, when we had no money to eat, I wouldn’t eat just so the 8 could have something… anything. The days I went to bed starving, the nights I worked around the clock to give them the opportunities that they now take advantage of. 

This is how they repay me? Screaming at me left and right, Changbin threatening to kill me, even Felix turned his back. I just fucked a side piece… I mean I know what that caused is on me. That I was responsible for what happened to our child. If I could feel like I was attached I am sure I would’ve been a wreck. Something that was mine being taken away does that to a person like me. One thing is for sure, I truly never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to look bad, hurting her would do that, and so I made sure to tread lightly, my go to’s being, “I know Baby, I’m sorry,” and “What time is it? Shit Baby I’m so sorry.”

That didn’t stop me to wanting to have my own little thing. My own little secret. It was a different type of high that I didn’t know I craved… needed. It’s no doubt that Soo did feel better in bed. I could tell she knew what she was doing. Y/N had no experience before me and that did a wonder for my corruption kink, but after that… It was like pulling teeth. I had to teach her everything, so every time we we’d sleep together I had to act like I liked the fact that she’s so innocent. Which I do, but I also don’t want to have to have a health class every time I wanted to have sex. Soo wasn’t like that. She knew what she was doing. Hmmm… maybe I’ll clean up the house and finish what we started. 

In the elevator, no one wanted to say anything. I didn’t want to say anything either, I didn’t want to make anything worse than it is. It’s a unique empty feeling. Y/N would look at me like I hung the moon itself. The feelings that she gave me, I was seen, heard, and loved. Constantly reassured. I can’t live without that validation. The minute I walked out of the elevator I didn’t even look back, all I said was “Take care of her. Do what I didn’t, she needs you. Call me if you need anything.” That made me feel a little better, giving them an order, felt like the last say in a way. 

It was Seungmin’s voice that cut through, I heard him stop the elevator with is arm, “That was never a question, we’ve always taken care of her, don’t wait up. We all know you’re not used to being the one waiting for someone. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” My lip upticked at his comment. Mostly because I didn’t imagine Seungmin to have balls like that and another was that I didn’t have a rebuttal. I always have a rebuttal. He’s right though, I always kept her waiting, not the other way around. It always made me feel important, that she needed me to go to bed well, that she craved to feel me.Yet now I find myself willing to wait an eternity if it meant being able to hold her one more time, to have her cook for me, then to cuddle up and pass out together, all of that shit I see as a waste of time. To think I hate needing someone yet here I am, needing her. 

I kept walking after I heard the elevator close. By the time I made it to the car I was trying my hardest not to collapse. My wife was in that hospital, fighting for her life, after I caused her to miscarry, a baby we have been wanting since our first anniversary. I am enraged. I’ve never felt so out of control and it’s driving me crazy. I am always in control. That is the only way that I function. It is something that I pride myself on. Now everything is out of place everyone stepped out of line. All I have to do is get them back in their rightful place… Then we can move on. 

 I’ve never imagined anyone else as the mother of my children, she is giving enough to focus on them while I work on my career. It’s always been Y/N. That thought was the one that made me slam my door a little too hard. She’s going to come back, she’ll be back. She will have my child, we will be happy… When everyone is in their place. 

I tried to distract myself as I went home. It felt like an out of body experience, seeing myself in the rearview mirror, hating the person I saw, just for the sole fact of getting caught. It was such a rookie move. I should’ve known that there was something going on when everyone said they were out for the night. No matter how loud I made the radio, I heard noting but her screams. I wanted to blame someone, get the pain as far away from me as possible, trying to make me out to be the good one. I’m not. The only things I’m good at are music and acting. I could still see the little glances she’d give me, convincing herself that I am just busy. She is so trusting, it honestly baffles me. Just another sign that she’s weak.

I wanted to make it her fault. She shouldn’t be so naive. Seeing Soo disappearing at the same time I am? The way that I couldn’t really look her in the eye for most of last month? She should’ve told me sooner. Maybe if she did that our child would still be here. That’s not even including how I’ve had to keep Soo on a shorter leash than anyone, her face gives so much away. The first time she hung out with us I had to take her to another room and tell her to get it together because she almost started crying in front of Y/N. I know that people will say that’s not fair, What part about anything that I’ve done screamed ‘oh this is reasonable’? None. It’s been so long I’ve been doing this that I don’t even remember how all of this started. Ah I remember now.

I guess a year ago it started off with me venting to Soo. I didn’t know why we weren’t conceiving. We timed out the cycles, we did everything correctly, but still it wasn’t happening. If I told the boys I know I would look weaker for it and I didn’t want Y/N to be even more stressed about getting pregnant. Soo validated my feelings and told me that she was always there for me. That was the first mistake. I should’ve gone to Y/N. After a while it went from talking when I was aggravated to talking daily. 

I looked forward to those calls so badly. It felt like a little interaction that was all mine. Making her laugh made me feel like when I used to get Y/N to laugh. The butterflies came soon after that, seeing that I got a form of attention I didn’t realize I was missing. About two months ago she told me that she was seeing me as “not just my friends husband”. That made my heart leap in my chest. I should’ve avoided her like the plague after that, I should’ve gone to my wife, but not only would that make her mad, it’d also make sneaking around harder. I did something worse.

“Good to know it’s not one sided.” I felt the words drip out of my mouth, even recounting it makes me a little excited. I turn onto my street and I heard Soo’s voice in my head, “Chris...” I knew it was wrong, I fucking knew it was, “I know. I know it’s wrong.” Then hearing her say, “What if she finds out?” with a giggle. “We’ll be discreet.”

We met up that night. I wanted to scrub myself head to toe, till my skin bled, making sure her scent was gone completely. It was so thrilling, so different, and I hated that I liked it. I liked it so much I knew I had to do it again, and soon too. Every time I came home Y/N was either passed out on the couch or in our bed. Notes left on the counter full of how much she loves me. I still remember the first one from that same night, “I know how forgetful you get in the studio, made extra of your favorite, it’s in the fridge, missed you-XOXO Y/N/N.” I looked at her form on the couch, clearly trying to stay up to see me. I ran to the bathroom to vomit, it made me anxious. I knew that I was playing with a downgraded version of my wife. If anything went wrong, I’d be left with the dollar store version of Y/N. For some reason that anxiety turned to exhiliration. The longer it went on for, the more comfortable I got of having my cake and eating it too. 

She never did anything wrong. I asked for space, she gave me space. I asked for anything and she would do it in a heartbeat. She always wanted me happy and stress free. After a while I made it okay in my head by saying that she wants me to be happy and having both make me happy so it’s okay. I know better, I always knew better. 

 I always got up too early, that way I didn’t afford myself time to see the person that I love in one of my favorite ways to see her, happy and sleeping. The last few days I gave myself that. Feeling the guilt eat me alive, rightfully so. I felt guilty for putting all of this on the line, putting her on the line, not for her, but what losing her means to me. I’d practice my apology while she slept, “I’m so sorry, I love you.” 

If it wasn’t for the boys being there, I could’ve had a better handle on her. I could’ve reiterated that practiced apology over and over. I could’ve kept the control I spent years making, which is really the most fucked up thing about all of this. I was in training for almost 10 fucking years, I finally get the perfect group of people who followed perfectly without question. Then Changbin goes ahead and goes soft for Y/N. She’s gorgeous, I know, she’s funny, and kind, but she was also making Bin step out of line a bit. Every time she was around, he would try to take point, try to be the center of attention. At first I thought that it was Bin trying to be cute. When he asked me how he could ask her out a few months after this started, I felt my stomach drop. She threatened everything I worked for. So I spewed some bullshit to make him question himself a bit more while I figured out what to do. 

Some wouldn’t see this as a problem. I am not some. I only let my members have center because I permitted it. If I threw myself in the spotlight always, it would look off. So I made myself into the best, most supportive leader, the leader of the 4th generation, how can you get bigger than that? The perfect wife… Y/N. It was perfect, if I had her, not only would I have more control over Bin, but I’d also have the perfect little family one day. That was when I decided to ask her out after getting her separated enough from Bin. Which wasn’t too hard. There were some unseen snags but overall it was easy. Keeping her is going to be just as easy. When she’s healed. Then everyone will fall back in line.

I pull in to my driveway and go to the door. Once I opened up the door, Bins clothes covered in blood were there, taunting me. I walked further into the house, I looked on the mantle, the picture from our wedding hung there. I remember that day, that gorgeous day. I threw it away. That woman with the most infectious smiles, the woman who’d hold me so close during horror movies. I found myself grabbing that picture, I dragged my finger over her face. I heard her voice, “I love you”, and I collapsed on the floor, right next to the clothes, sobbing, clutching the photo. She was so perfect. 

I got so mad at that point. I shouldn’t be crying, SHE ISN’T LEAVING ME. I can fix her just like I fixed everything else around me. My perfect wife, My perfect group, MINE.  

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[multi-fandoms-posts]

Smut 18+

Imagine:

Qimir sees you for the first time in your new Sith outfit.

I'm sitting in my room, looking at something on the holopad, when there's a knock. "Y/N, time to train!" Qimir calls. "Yes, Master, just a moment, I still have to change," I say, hurrying up because I've completely forgotten about training.

I love training with my master. I love the way he gives orders. I grab my lightsaber and go downstairs. "Sorry, Master," I say. "It's fine, let's get started," he says, turning to me. Qimir looks me up and down. "Is this new?" he asks. I can see he likes it, and that was exactly my plan. "Yes, Master," I say. "Don't you like it, Master?"I ask. I see Qimir's eyes widen in shock. "The outfit looks good on you," he smiles. "Thank you, Master," I smile.

Even though it's unlikely that he loves me, I've decided to tease him a little here and there. Today, I just wanted to challenge him. I want to see how far I can go.

“Master,” I say. “Yes,” he says.

"Can you show me the lightsaber exercises again? I don't know how to hold it," I say. "Of course," says Qimir and takes out his lightsaber to show me the exercises. I know how to do it, of course, but I want to see how far I can go.

"Master, it just doesn't work," I say frustrated. "I'll show you differently," he smiles. Ohoh, that's easy to misunderstand. Qimir comes behind me and takes my hand in his. I can feel his warmth. This is going better than I thought. I press myself a little closer to his crotch and hear a quiet growl from him. I repeat it, only this time I feel a hardening.

I suddenly feel breath in my ear. "It would be better for you if you stopped," he growls. "Do you think I don't notice that you're playing dumb here?" he whispers in my ear. I'm shocked. "Did you think you could trick me, your master, like that?" he growls and presses himself against me. A quiet moan escapes me when I feel the girth of his cock. "Shit," I curse.

I didn't think it would come to this. "Are you so needy for your Master?" he grins. I can't say a word, this is all so intoxicating. I never thought it would go this far, but I like it. Qimir suddenly pulls away from me completely and I turn to face him. "Answer me when I ask you" he says roughly. "Y-yes, Master," I say, looking away.

My confidence is waning. Qimir grabs me gently and forces me to look at him. "For months I've heard your thoughts, how you think about me, how you try to upset me. I always hear you when you touch yourself, how you wish I would touch you like that," he growls. I look at him in shock. I'm embarrassed now. He knew it all along.

"Master, I..." I am interrupted as his hand slowly slides into my panties. I gasp. His fingers touch my entrance. "You're so wet" he growls, biting my earlobe "Qimir" I moan "That means Master to you" he says as he sticks a finger inside me "Shit" I moan and cling to him "You're mine" he says as he sticks another finger inside me and increases his pace. Just before I could come, he pulls his fingers out. I moan at the sudden emptiness and scowl at him. Before I can say anything, he kisses me gently. I kiss him back immediately. "Let's go to my room and you show me how much you want your Master," he grins. "Yes, Master," I grin.

I never imagined it would end like this, but I'm not complaining. It's going to be an interesting night.

[tkthrilla-writes]

hii I hope you’re doing well!! i saw your requests were open and decided to ask! This is just a small idea i had, if you don’t want to do it you can ignore this!!

Could you write Alastor with a Fem reader who kind of dresses like Morticia or Elvira, but with like really long black hair that’s always in a ponytail, like long to the point it’s a few inches above the ground long. Alastor really loves her and also loves her hair, and if Angel or like anyone else try’s to touch it he just gets really protective.

Ask and you shall receive anon! It’s Saturday so let’s make it rain! Since it wasn’t specified, I am going to make this request in the form of headcanons hope that is ok with you. Just going to make slight adjustments as Y/n does not know the people of hell and only Alastor, who due to a ritual possesses and resides in Y/n’s body. But don’t worry I got chu.

“My my what is the occasion my dear?”

The second this demon sees your new hair style and new get up this man is tripping all over the floor.

Since when was your hair that long?

Since he is more used to the both of you getting up in the morning and trying to look presentable for the day, more often than not that hair is always up in a bun or ponytail, or if you are feeling up for a change, the rare and occasional braid. But wow, the second he sees that floor length black dress with that floor length black hair, his smile went past his ears with how deadly you look.

“It’s for Halloween, thought I’d dress up for the trick-or-treaters who stop by,” you said in full enthusiasm getting the candy ready.

“And who exactly are you dressed as? Surely not yourself,” this man tried to be smooth and seducing but all this got his was you looking this demon dead in the eye with the most blasphemous and shocked look on your face.

Bare with him, he died before he could know about the Adams family and the beauty that is Morticia Adams.

So you bombard him with quotes like, “The light,” “I am just like any other mother,” “But my dear you are not a mother? And what is wrong with the light? I thought you liked the sun for the Vitamin D as you call it” easy to say he does not get it and you make it a sheer point that before kids start coming over asking for candy you both sit down and watch the damn movie.

When it finishes it is very easy to assume which character he likes and what was his favourite part from the way his shadow parts from your body and his shadow form makes an eerily familiar black suit with thin red strips. Alastor loves his red.

“Begone with thee!” he exclaims as he fake attacks the sun through the windows; but his absolute favourite “My Dear, how long has it been since we last danced?”

“Hours,” and he proceeds to dance with you throughout the entire apartment.

Now timeskip a couple more hours into what is now the night, carrying on with the theme you decide to show him the more modern adaptation of the Adams family, and since you know that he might enjoy the horror aspect to it. “We’re going to watch Wednesday tonight!”

“THERE’S A SHOW ABOUT THE CHILD!” he’s excited. He does get mildly annoyed of having to pause it so frequently because of all the people who keep ringing, but he enjoys it none-the-less.

That is until a group of very, let’s say, particular people… come ringing at your door. There were some kids in what you could guess very early teens all decked up in their costumes who yell out “TRICK OR TREAT” but the people behind them are who really catch your attention.

The pervy dads

To put it simply they kept whistling at you while you gave out candy to the kids. One dad even started catcalling you.

It wasn’t until one of the dads actually tried to reach out to actually touch your hair, but before he could actually do that his arm snapped mid-air.

First a sickening SNAP resounded that made everyone stare and be silent, next came the deafening scream of the dad who just had his arm mysteriously snap. This just made everyone leave you alone immediately as they tried to see what was wrong… before realising it was completely broken and damn near flopping in the wind.

You simply took this as your cue to slowly close the door, and take a few steps back. “Al?” you asked knowing damn well how this demon, “Yes Cara mia?” he replied. “Hmm, thank you,” you said, “You are very welcome, another man should not be touching another’s spouse.” “Possessive much?” you ask coyly, “and since when were we married?”

“My dear we have been in this arrangement for many years, we might as well be,” Alastor’s shadowed figure reached down for your hand to place a gentle kiss on the knuckle.

“I don’t remember you proposing, so how can we be married.”

“Don’t tempt me my dear, because I promise you, you were mine the day you made this contract and arrangement. And I absolutely vow that nobody else will place their filthy hands on what is mine.”

[stevesnightmares]

I don't understand how some people can watch BBC Merlin and, when they are done, complain that it didn't make sense because Merlin didn't fulfil the prophecy. You are the one who doesn't understand the story that is being told. This is not like in Percy Jackson, where we get prophecies and, by the end, we see them come true, even if in unexpected ways. Merlin created his own path with every choice that he made, with every action he took. He could've fulfilled his destiny, he could've saved Arthur and brought on the golden age of Albion, but by making certain choices he wasn't able to fulfil that destiny. He had the ability to do so, but didn't.

In season 1 episode 8, "The Beginning of the End" we are immediately told that Merlin will not fulfill his destiny, he will not protect Arthur and see him bring about the golden age of Albion.

KILGHARRAH If the boy lives, you cannot fulfil your destiny. MERLIN What's he got to do with my destiny? You said it's my destiny to protect Arthur. KILGHARRAH Then you have the answer you seek. MERLIN You're telling me that little boy is going to kill Arthur? KILGHARRAH It seems that is up to you. MERLIN No. You can't know that for certain. KILGHARRAH You have it in your power to prevent a great evil. MERLIN There must be another way! The future isn't set in stone! KILGHARRAH You must let the boy die.

By saving Mordred, Merlin sealed Arthur's fate and signed his death. He made a choice and that choice had its consequences.

Another clear example of Merlin's choices affecting, well, everything, is in season 2 episode 8, "Sins of the Father".

Merlin's goal is to make Arthur see that magic isn't all bad, to make the genocide of magic wielders stop, to bring magic back to Camelot so that he and every other magic person can live freely as themselves.

When meeting with Morgouse, Arthur begins to go towards the right path.

ARTHUR What if my father's attitude to magic is wrong? MERLIN You really think that?

ARTHUR Perhaps it's not as simple as he would have us believe. Morgause is a sorcerer, she has caused us no harm. Surely not everyone who practices magic can be evil.

He's starting to see that maybe not everyone who uses magic uses it for evil, that magic users can be good.

ARTHUR You speak of hunted her kind like animals! How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?

He's also seeing that Uther hates magic because of personal reasons and not because all magic is really bad.

This was the perfect opportunity, the perfect opening to bring Arthur on the right side. But what does Merlin do?

MERLIN Morgause is lying! She's an enchantress. She tricked you. That was not your mother you saw. That was an illusion. Everything...everything your mother said to you...those were Morgause's words. This has been her plan all along! To turn you against your father. And if you kill him, the kingdom will be destroyed! This is what she wants!

He tells Arthur that it's all a lie and that the sorcerer is evil, that once again those who use magic only want to see Camelot fall.

ARTHUR I am indebted to you, Merlin. I had become...confused. It is once again clear to me that those who practice magic are evil and dangerous. And that is thanks to you.

He solidified Arthur's belief that magic is evil and bad.

My point isn't to decide whether Merlin's choices were good or bad, right or wrong, we follow him, we see why he does what he does, how much he cares for Arthur and for others, we see his flaws and his shortcomings and we can't blame him for any of his choices because all of them, even the most misguided ones, were all done in good faith.

The point is that that's what the show is about: a young warlock in his quest to save Arthur and how his choices bring him to his failure. From season 1 he was doomed to fail because of his choices. At least that's how I see it. People were expecting to see Merlin fulfil the prophecy and some claim that he did, but imo the whole show is about how his choices doomed him and made him not fulfil his destiny.

UTHER You [Merlin] have proven yourself to be a trusted ally in the fight against magic.

[riddlerosehearts]

list of acd canon sherlock holmes things i absolutely love

(and am going to mostly put under a readmore because i made most of this list while rereading the entire canon so it is very long! listen i just think sherlock holmes is the best character ever and i need to share my love for him--)

immediately upon being introduced to watson he grabs him by the sleeve, starts excitedly showing off his bloodstain testing experiment, and claps his hands “looking as delighted as a child with a new toy”. once he finishes, his eyes glitter and he puts his hand on his heart and bows “as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination”.

watson: “i object to rows because my nerves are shaken”

holmes: “do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously

he’s noted to be extraordinarily knowledgeable and zealous in his studies, and yet on the same page it’s stated that he doesn’t know the earth travels around the sun and once watson tells him about it he immediately decides to forget about it because it’s not relevant to his work. this is where the famous “brain attic” monologue comes in.

watson writes this list about him and then throws it into the fire in despair:

has a habit of laughing in a way that’s described as bursting into an “explosion” or “roar” of laughter

frequently does this at crime scenes:

enlists a gang of street orphans to help him on his cases, pays them for their work, and generally treats them as equals but also playfully talks to them like a general to his soldiers

plays the violin for watson to help him get to sleep

is incredibly knowledgable on anything from different types of tobacco, to the ways one's trade can influence the form of their hands, to medieval pottery and stradivarus violins. and yet, i reiterate, does not know the earth revolves around the sun.

has a tendency of waxing poetic about the meaningless of existence, particularly when he’s bored from not having any cases to work on

once said about a dog “i would rather have toby’s help than that of the whole detective force of london”

used the word “doggy” when speaking to toby

once told watson “i don’t wish to be theatrical” despite all evidence to the contrary

disguises himself as an old man just to play a prank on watson

watson: “i think i had better go”

holmes: “not at all, doctor. stay where you are. i am lost without my boswell.”

is known to wiggle in his chair when he gets excited about a case

discovers that a man has tricked his own stepdaughter into a fake marriage so he can keep her at home and control her life and inheritance. acknowledges that said man hasn’t done anything illegal but still tells him “there never was a man who deserved punishment more” and that he ought to get whipped for what he did, and then goes to actually get his hunting crop, causing the man to run out the door at top speed

let a criminal go free because it turned out the man he murdered was trying to force said criminal’s daughter into an unwanted marriage

was suddenly made to participate in the wedding of someone he was tracking for a case, came home and laughed about it for several minutes, exclaimed “well, really!”, laughed for several more minutes, and only then did he actually tell watson what happened

responds to the king of bohemia insulting irene adler and saying she’s not on his level by saying coldly: “from what i have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level to your majesty”, which is basically him saying “actually she’s way better than you, so fuck off”

refused to shake said king’s hand

built a pillow fort in a client’s house so he could think better

let a poor jewel thief go because he cried, because it was christmas and therefore it was the season of forgiveness, and because the case was really easy anyway so it’s not his fault if the police are too stupid to solve it themselves

always reassures clients that they can trust him and watson and speak freely around them

is willing to waive his fee for clients who can’t afford to pay him, because according to him his profession is its own reward

this entire scene from speckled band when he gets confronted by his client’s abusive stepfather:

this nice little example of the gentleness he often displays with his clients:

the adventure of the copper beeches. just, all of it. a woman he doesn’t know comes to holmes for advice about a potential job she’s interviewed for and they both agree it sounds incredibly sketchy, she says she’s gonna take it anyway because she needs the money, and he’s like “well i wouldn’t want any sister of mine doing something like this but FINE i guess, just please write to us and let us know if you’re okay and if anything bad happens we’ll drop everything and come help you immediately”, and then the job does in fact turn out to be super sketchy and they drop everything and get on a train as soon as she writes to them

sometimes spends several hours out on walks through the park or the town with watson just relaxing and talking with him for the sake of it, despite watson frequently noting that holmes doesn’t have much appreciation for nature

“we have had the good fortune to bring peace to many troubled souls. i trust that we may do the same for you,” he says “in his easy, genial way” to a potential client who’s clearly very upset and sleep-deprived

is completely wrong about a particular case and asks watson to remind him of that case next time he gets overconfident

is noted by watson to be very neat and methodical in his methods and way of dress, while simultaneously being one of the messiest people ever who keeps his tobacco inside a persian slipper and his unopened letters held up by a knife in the center of his mantelpiece, keeps tons of criminal relics which apparently somehow end up in the butter dish sometimes, and keeps countless stacks of papers and documents all over the place

tells watson anecdotes about his past just to avoid cleaning up said documents

deliberately knocks over a table, shattering a glass fruit bowl which then sends oranges rolling all over the room, and then blames it on watson and runs away

says snarky things like “when gregson or lestrade are out of their depth–which, by the way, is their normal state” and “you’ve done very well, watson! it’s too bad you’ve missed everything of importance”

laughs when watson suggests he’s being modest about his abilities

picked up a rose and got all sappy and poetic about it

more specifically, picked up a rose and said that religion can be a science which involves a lot of careful deduction, and that flowers are a source of hope and proof of the goodness of god due to the fact that they aren’t a necessary part of life but are still so beautiful anyway

recovered an incredibly valuable government treaty for a client and had it served to him on a platter at breakfast because, in his own words, he “never can resist a touch of the dramatic”

faked his death and then revealed to watson that he was still alive in a manner that even he admitted was unnecessarily dramatic

had a full-scale wax model of himself created and used it to fool his enemies

made a diagram out of breadcrumbs to explain something to watson

broke into a blackmailer’s house for a case because he believed it to be morally justifiable, and admitted that he always thought he might make a good criminal

held watson’s hand while they were burgling said house together

twice

allowed said blackmailer to be murdered in front of him by one of his victims and then refused to take the case when asked because he just hated the guy that much

“flushed up with pleasure” when watson complimented him

asked watson to sell his medical practice and move back into 221b with him after the death of his wife. and then secretly gave a relative of his a ton of money to buy watson’s medical practice at the highest price watson would ask for, just so they could live together again

was nearly brought to tears by lestrade saying he was proud of him

let a dog lead him around on a case, multiple times in different stories

was very gentle with a client who he knew to be the victim of an abusive marriage and allowed the man who killed her husband to go free out of sympathy for their situation

noticed watson looking sad and touching his war wound and tried to cheer him up by echoing his thoughts and providing a deduction of how he knew what he was thinking

mentioned watson’s sparkling eyes in said deduction

talked about nothing but violins and his favorite violinist for an hour while he and watson had lunch together

likes going to classical music concerts and getting lost in the music

does scrapbooking

chuckles and rubs his hands together when he’s happy

this:

takes getting called "the devil himself" as a compliment

let a killer go because he had only killed in retaliation for the unjust murder of his lover, and holmes felt that he might’ve done the same if someone were to kill the woman he loved

on a completely unrelated note tells a guy who shoots watson “if you had killed watson you would not have got out of this room alive”

also reacted like this when watson got shot:

went undercover to supposedly give a guy secret government intelligence documents, and then gave him a book about bees instead

frequently disguised himself either for cases or just to fool watson and was noted to be a great actor

once disguised himself as an old woman with a parasol

tried the best he could to talk a young woman out of marrying a man who had a history of “collecting” women for sport and destroying their lives, and admitted to watson that he thought of her as he would think of his own daughter

was prone to “imp-like moods”

sent watson a message to come over at once ("if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same") just so he could infodump to him about dogs

wasn’t surprised that a dog died of grief shortly after its owner’s death, because of “the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs”

listened with great sympathy to a depressed woman who wanted to tell him her tragic story, picked up on hints that she was planning to commit suicide, talked her out of it by convincing her that her life does have value and then called her brave for choosing to live

got lost in thought looking out the window at the publicly funded elementary schools and randomly went on about how he believes they and the children who attend them are beacons of a brighter future

made hot cocoa for watson

shook hands with a baby

retired to the countryside to live on a farm and become a beekeeper.

[lackadaisicallizard]

Costumes

Yes, I know it's halloween and I tried to write angst but I couldn't do it.

So enjoy this bit of Halloween fluff instead.

“Don’t laugh.” 

James is clearly trying very hard to keep a straight face. “I’m not laughing.” 

Regulus scowls at his husband. “Why on Earth am I dressed as a discount Dolly Parton right now, James?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what costume it is. You know exactly what costume it is.” James’ resolve falters and his lips curl up in amusement. 

Yes, Regulus does know what costume it is. He is currently wearing blue jeans with cow-print chaps, a white and yellow top, and a red cowgirl hat complete with a fake red plait that’s fetchingly draped over his left shoulder.   

“Why do you get to be Woody and I’m stuck with the frilly yellow fabric?” Regulus walks over to the mirror next to the wardrobe and glares at his reflection as he tweaks the cuffs on his ridiculous sleeves. 

James isn’t put off though it seems as he comes to stand behind him, his smile wide now. “If it helps, you look very cute in cow-print.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Are you telling me you have a thing for cowboys now, Potter?” 

James laughs lightly as he wraps his arms around Regulus’ chest and his own hands subconsciously move to hold them. He can’t help himself. James Potter and his strong arms have always been his weakness. Well, one of them anyway. 

“Nah I have a thing for you,” James bends down to kiss his cheek, his next words low in his ear, “although now that you mention it, the chaps…” 

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Keep it in your pants, Potter, we’ve got places to be.” 

As if on cue, the bedroom door is flung open and the world’s most adorable Buzz Lightyear comes bounding in. “Daddy you said you’d be ten minutes and it’s definitely been way more than that!” 

James lets go of Regulus’ chest, but keeps his right arm wrapped around his husband’s waist as he turns to face their son. 

“Sorry Harry. I was ready in ten minutes but your papa was taking his time as usual.” 

Regulus hits him lightly in the stomach. “Maybe if I didn’t have to figure out how to pin my hair up so it didn’t show under the wig, we’d be leaving on time.” 

James nods. “It does look good, love. Don’t you think so Harry?” 

Harry nods too, a mirror image of his father. “You look just like Jessie! She’s my favourite you know? Well, after Buzz.” 

And how could Regulus do anything but melt at that comment? Because this is the reason he agreed to the ridiculous outfit- his son’s request for them to dress as his favourite characters from his favourite movie. 

Harry is and always will be his biggest weakness. 

Regulus finally smiles now, fully and properly, and moves to kneel down in front of the grinning six year old, adjusting the helmet that is slightly wonky on his head. “Buzz is my favourite too.” 

“Really?”

“Absolutely. How could he not be?” 

“Exactly! Daddy says that his favourite is Rex.” 

“Yes well Daddy is wrong as usual.” 

“Hey!” Regulus turns to his husband’s mildly hurt facial expression. 

“Two against one.” 

“We win!” Harry exclaims and James’ face immediately shifts back to a smile. He scoops Harry up, careful not to damage his wing in the process. 

“I guess we’ll have to watch it later to really decide a winner, won’t we?” 

Harry looks at Regulus who is now standing next to them. “Can we, Papa?” His voice is brimming with excitement 

“Let’s see how we feel after trick or treating, yeah?”

Harry thinks on this for a second before nodding. “Okay.” 

“Speaking of which, we’d better get going before all the good sweets are taken,” James says as he puts Harry down. “Why don’t you go and grab your bucket and we’ll be out in a second?” 

Harry furrows his brow and Regulus speaks, “I promise I won’t take forever this time.” 

“Okay,” Harry says, easily convinced, and he rushes back out of the bedroom. 

James turns to Regulus, his smile soft and his eyes glinting with the same joy that he just saw written across their son’s face. “Are you ready?” 

And as Regulus takes one last look at himself in the mirror he no longer sees a stupid cowgirl costume that his husband made him wear. He sees a stupid cowgirl costume that belongs to his son’s second favourite Toy Story character. And while the former may not have been enough of a reason for him to pull on a pair of leather boots and go outside to be seen by the general public, the latter definitely is. 

So he answers with a nod of his head and a tone more resolute than he ever thought it would be under the given circumstances. “Let’s do this.” 

“To infinity and beyond?” 

“Don’t push it, Potter.”

[anemptypuddingcup]

Hello 😊 pov: reader is reading on Sunny's gym at a time of the day/night when she thinks she's completely alone because no one would dream of making the trip up there, when she find a hole in her dress/shirt. Since she is alone, lazy to go down in the bedrooms or in the bathroom, and don't think anyone would come, she decide to sew the hole real quick and take off the dress to sew it better. But obviously when she is nearly done someone come and see her in bra and pants. What is the reaction of the strawhats male crews? I don't remember if you do headcanons with multiple characters or just drabble with one of them but i thought this scene was fun to think about even if the headcanon is just fluffy

By the way i love your writings, expecially the Usopp's ones since is my favourite character 😁 have a nice day 😊

Oooh! I love that idea! And yes I do headcanons love so don’t worry about that! Sorry I only did four too, this is really my first time writing headcanons (also I’m happy you liked the Usopp writing!)

Strawhat crew (men) walking in on Reader half-naked in the Sunny’s gym.

Luffy.

❤️Let’s be real here- Luffy doesn’t necessarily care. He’ll walk in and act like not shit is going on.

❤️I imagine he came into the gym because he was going to work out with Zoro, i personally think it’s a plus if Luffy doesn’t give a fuck and doesn’t overreact.

❤️”Oh! Wassup ________!? Ima just go over there if ya don’ mind.”

❤️Jesus he just…doesn’t read the atmosphere sometimes.

❤️And I love his precious ass for it. (I love luffyyyy)

Zoro.

💚Oh he’s gonna be startled as hell. He’ll wonder why the hell you’re even in the gym without a top on. Not that it wasn’t normal but you’re in your bra, not a workout top or anything like that.

💚He’s not even paying attention to you trying to sew up your dress.

💚He was so excited to work out today, yet seeing your ass with no shirt on completely ruined his mood to workout due to him being flustered.

💚”O-OI WOMAN! WHAT THE HELL!?”

💚“Z-ZORO PLEASE, I PROMISE IT AIN’T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE-“

💚“PUT A DAMN SHIRT ON PLEASE WOMAN!”

💚He’ll be so flustered because he’s never necessarily seen you without a top before.

💚A very flustered marimo quickly leaves the gym.

Sanji.

💙Sanji came to the gym expecting to see a dumb marimo and tell him that lunch was ready. Instead he gets hit with a pretty lady without a top sitting on the bench, sewing up her dress.

💙Of course, it’s natural for Sanji to overreact with blood just gushing from his damn nose like a geyser.

💙”_-________-SWANNN! O-OH AM I DREAMING O-OR ARE YOU IN YOUR PRETTY BRA!?”

💙”S-SANJI!-“

💙Yeah…Sanji’s gonna end up rushing to you instead of running away and you’ll have to urge him to leave you alone.

Usopp.

🧡Usopp’s gonna be flustered just like Zoro. He didn’t expect to walk in on a woman topless.

🧡On instinct, he’ll immediately cover his eyes and start screaming, surprised and startled that he may have seen something he didn’t (or probably did) want to see.

🧡”A-AHHH! WHY’RE YOU HALF N-NAKED IN THE G-GYM!”

🧡”U-USOPP, I-I PROMISE THIS IS A MISUNDERSTANDING! I-I’M TRYING TO SEW M-MY-”

🧡“N-NO, YOU’RE T-TRYING TO TRICK ME! I-I WON’T LET YOU!”

🧡Usopp would overreact the very most knowing his overdramatic ass.

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

May I please ask for headcanons for la squadra reacting to their gn s/o doing this for halloween?

oh my god...yes??? holy SHIT am I finishing this so late I am so sorry but yknow how i am at this point...

-----------------------------------------------------

La Squadra getting pranked by their S/O with a fake snake

Formaggio

You have to keep yourself from cackling when his eyes light up at the sight of the cooler. He looks to you, asking if you brought it, then making some silly comment about how he'd "be taking one for free anyways" before reaching for the lid.

He jumps just a smidge, his only sound of shock being a small "oh-" before exploding into laughter. He's down on his hands and knees at the silly little prank. He's trying to call you either fucking stupid or a fucking genius but you can't tell through the giggles.

Takes the humor into his own hands afterwards. Grabbing your attention, he flaps the lid up and down rapidly the nod the snake's head with a stupid grin.

"B-before you can grab a drink, y'gotta answer my three riddles!"

Illuso

You don't even know he had spotted the cooler - he just made a beeline for it the second he could read the writing, not thinking to ask about it or even notice your presence. Beer first, chat later.

That is, until you hear his scream. Yes I think he'd scream like a little girl, what're you gonna do about it? You look over and the lid's slammed shut, your lover holding a hand over his mouth, looking at you. His expression hasn't yet decided whether to be pissed or horrified.

"Did...did you-?" once you explain that you set up the little trick he calms down quickly, save for his furrowed eyebrows. He's standing next to you then, arms crossed as a smirk tugs at his lips.

"As long as you don't tell anyone about my reaction, I'll play along. I'd love to see what everyone else thinks."

Prosciutto

He's suspicious immediately. Of course the beer would be free. It's a cooler, just sitting there, why would there be any charge whatsoever. No reason to point out "free"...nonetheless, he could use a drink.

Obviously he's not stupid enough to get it himself, so luckily you're there. He asks you to grab him a beer. Knowing what lies beyond that cursed lid, there's no way you'd follow his order, and he's clearly ticked off at your "strange" hesitance.

You two just stand there, arguing over who's to grab the beer, both trying to hide your "secret knowledge" from one another. He eventually realises it's futile to try and make you fall for your own prank, and in defeat he walks over to the cooler and opens it. The only slightly sour look on his face is disappointing.

"Wow. A fake snake, really? Childish."

Pesci

Doesn't like the taste of beer, has no interest in it, so you can't really get him like you can with the others. At best he'd tell Prosciutto about it, and you get a new target. But it's not what you originally hoped.

So if you really want this to work, you need to enlist Prosciutto's help. Once you somehow get him to agree, you wait for Pesci to inevitably join the two of you in the room. The boy is obviously quick to obey when Prosciutto asks for a beer.

Pesci stumbles away from the cooler with a cry when faced with the fake snake, and when he turns to you and Prosciutto to point out the danger, he's even further disconcerted when you look amused and unbothered respectively. This makes him check the cooler again, and you can't help but chuckle as he reaches out and shakes the false snake.

"Jeez, it's nothing...why would you do that to me??"

Melone

He's smart, at least you thought so. But...somehow the genius you love barely even thinks about it as he approaches the suspicious cooler without so much as a second glance. He...he wasn't that gullible, was he? You wanted this to happen, yeah, but this was...creepy.

Then you notice the look on his face and know that smile means he knows what's going on. Of course he's not stupid enough. He's trying to play around with you, isn't he? He might even know exactly what's about to pop out of the box.

Well, apparently he didn't know that last thing, because the smug look on his face is gone the second he is met with the fake snake. He gasps and shoves the lid back down, stumbling away. You try to make some silly comment to him but he's averting eye contact and retreating, ashamed.

"Well, goodbye darling. I'm....no."

Ghiaccio

Oh come on, what fuckery is this, is the first thing your blue-haired beloved thinks as he sees the writing on the cooler. Paired with the fact that you're standing a few feet away, totally not glancing at him every few seconds makes it even more obvious.

He decides after some moments of just staring at the cooler to just go for it. Best case scenario, he gets his beer and leaves, worst case scenario he witnesses some stupid useless prank. and leaves. Literally facing disappointment head-on, he kneels down and is face to face with the snake that greets him.

Of fucking course. He grabs the false snake by the head and rips it off the lid with a scowl before walking off. It's your choice if you're underwhelmed or howling with laughter.

"Stupid fucking...why would you even..." *insert the sound of the frozen snake scraping against the floor*

Risotto

In any other situation he should, and would, be weary - the perk of being his S/O is that he lets his guard down when it comes to you. He doesn't jump right into falling for it, he stands around and makes conversation with you first, asking where you got the beer and why.

You're hopefully prepared for this with a good lie about a sale, or some shit you never finished yourself that you thought the team might want. You better be a good liar too. Check both those boxes and soon you'll be watching him open that cooler.

He probably didn't expect a snake of all things, and does let out a surprised "oh!", but his reaction is pretty much over once he doesn't see razor blades spew from the serpent's head. Risotto does chuckle when he shuts the cooler, just a bit.

"Do tell me if this works on anyone else. That was a good one, dear."

[sunsetcougar]

Eve’s Garden AU:

Angel, Husk, Niffty, and Alastor are all in the lobby when there’s a knock at the door.

Angel: Who do you reckon that is?

Husk: The girls probably forgot their keys and locked themselves out or something.

Angel: I thought we didn’t lock the front door.

Alastor goes to answer, swinging the door open with a grin that immediately becomes strained.

Cain, the moment the door is open: Hello! Ah, Alastor, I heard you decided to come back from your little vacation.

Alastor, unhappy: Greetings, I was not expecting to see you.

Cain, walking past Alastor and looking around the lobby: Mom saw the interview the Princess did and sent me to look around. You know, see if this place is actually legit or a joke.

Alastor: And why would your mother have an interest in a place like this? I imagine she’s already busy enough with her territory.

Cain: If this place is legit there’s quite a few souls she’d be interested in sending over.

Husk: Now why would an overlord as powerful as her want to risk losing any of her souls?

Cain: Losing a few wouldn’t be all that serious of a blow to her, and redeeming souls is right up her alley. So, where’s the Princess?

Alastor: She’s out right now.

Cain: I’ll wait then, get to know the rest of you. Hey Husk, pour me some whiskey, would you?

Husk: *grunts and does so*

Angel: So who are you anyway? I’ve never heard of you.

Cain: My name is Cain, I’m one of the overlords of The Garden. You’re Angel Dust, aren’t you?

Angel: That I am. I havta say, the wolfy look suits you. I might be willing to offer a discount to an overlord~

Cain: No thank you, I’m on a purely business venture. Plus I’m not sure your boss would take kindly to it.

Angel: Eh, worth a shot. So whys an overlord interested in redeeming souls? Seems a bit out of character.

Cain, taking a sip of his whiskey: My mother is unique. She only wants enough power to keep her people safe so she does own their souls, but if someone asks she’ll give theirs back no questions asked. Getting her people into paradise is something she didn’t think possible, but if it is she wants to do it.

Angel: Huh. Sounds too good to be true.

Cain: Yeah, we hear that a lot. Thinking of, Husk, how’s Alastor been treating you? Nothing that would warrant me bringing it to my brother’s attention, right?

Husk: No.

Cain: Lovely. I’m sure our resident stag would hate to lose another antler.

Alastor: *his static grows louder, hissing.*

Cain: *snarls right back.* Don’t forget your place, deer boy. *drinks the rest of his whiskey in one go.*

Niffty: Ooo, you’re a bad boy! Hehehe!

Cain: I suppose you could say that. So, when’s the Princess due to get back?

Husk: She and her girlfriend should be back any minute.

Charlie, right on cue as she struts in the door: We’re back! And we brought doughnuts! *spots Cain and gasps* Oh my goodness hi! I’m Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you interested in becoming a guest here?

Cain: *smiles at her enthusiasm.* I’m not, I don’t think redemption is possible for me.

Charlie: I believe anyone can be redeemed if they really want it!

Cain: *his easy grin falters for a moment.* I’m here on business. My mother sent me to look around this place and see if it’s legit. If it is, she has a few sinners to send your way.

Charlie: *practically has stars in her eyes.* Really?! Well then I should give you the grand tour! Come on! *grabs Cain’s hand and pulls him away talking a mile a minute.*

Alastor: *disappears into his shadows.*

Vaggie: *narrows her eye, watching Cain as Charlie shows him around the main room.* Who is he?

Angel: He said his name is Cain. Kind of ballsy to name yourself that, huh?

Husk: From what I know of him he’s earned the right to those balls. He’s old as fuck and touch as steel cause of it.

Vaggie: Is he trustworthy?

Husk: Fuck if I know. Next to no one knows anything about that family. I only know they’re old and powerful enough they can afford to be unknown.

Vaggie: So this is probably a trick.

Husk: Yep.

Niffty: *giggling before she scampers off.*

Angel: Well Niffty may chase him off, then we don’t have to worry.

Vaggie: Hm. *leaves to go follow the sound of Charlie’s enthusiastic tour of the kitchen.*