#how dare they require me to ever take this thing off

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Donald Trump swept into Kerrville today for what was ostensibly a visit to console flood-ravaged Texans but quickly became another episode of Donald Trump: The Disaster Tourist Chronicles. As Trump himself put it, he’s “gone to a lot of hurricanes, a lot of tornadoes,” but “never seen anything like this.” Which, if you’ve listened to a single Trump presser in your life, you know he says every single time he visits a disaster zone.

In a room stuffed with Texas officials, grieving families, Dr. Phil (yes, really), and the usual wall of TV cameras, Trump launched into his greatest hits. “Nobody has any idea how and why a thing like this could happen,” he said, as if flash flooding during record rain in a state with insufficient infrastructure was some unsolvable cosmic riddle.

He praised the Coast Guard, noting they rescued “an incredible 169 children at Camp Mystic,” before pivoting to his own hero’s journey: “I had to be here as president, first lady wanted to be here.” Because, you see, it’s about him showing up, not about the children swept away by a monstrous river at 3 AM. Melania, clutching a bracelet given to her by camp survivors, shared that they were there to “honor them and also to give the support, help, and I will be back. I promise.” You could almost hear the Trump campaign ad music swelling in the background.

Trump took a moment to rattle off every Republican in Texas and Washington he could remember, praising each for their “unbelievable” work, because if there’s one thing Trump loves during a national tragedy, it’s making sure people know which GOP loyalists showed up to clap for him. “Governor Abbott, he’s an amazing guy,” Trump said, while Abbott beamed like a teenager getting noticed by a celebrity at the mall.

Of course, when a CBS reporter dared ask about the reportedly delayed flood warnings, Trump’s patience for the suffering of Texans vanished like FEMA stockpiles under Jared Kushner’s watch: “Only a bad person would ask a question like that, to be honest with you. I don’t know who you are, but only a very evil person would ask a question like that.” The children may be dead, but Trump’s inability to take the mildest accountability remains eternal.

What Trump didn’t mention, because of course he didn’t, is that it took 72 hours before Kristi Noem signed off on disaster assistance for Texas because she has a rule requiring her personal signature for any federal expenditure over $100,000. Three days of delay while children were missing, parents were digging through debris with their bare hands, and entire communities were underwater. And where was Kristi Noem during this humanitarian crisis she was actively prolonging? Posting Instagram pictures of herself on horseback, grinning under the Texas sun, the aesthetic of personal branding apparently more urgent than signing the paper that would unlock rescue and recovery funds.

It is hard to imagine a cleaner demonstration of the sociopathy that has become the default operating system for MAGA leadership: photo ops on horseback while families wait for rescue, reality-show presidency in front of flood wreckage, and rage at reporters for daring to ask why children had to die before the paperwork got filed.

The event took a surreal turn as Dr. Phil, who apparently wandered in from the local Texas Starbucks, delivered a TED Talk on grief, declaring that “you never get over it, you get through it.” Dr. Phil then described a rescuer yelling “throw me your baby” as the floodwaters rose, while Trump nodded gravely as if this was a scene from one of his many reality shows.

Ted Cruz, ever eager to appear useful, shared a tragic account of visiting Camp Mystic and seeing “17 small white crosses in the ground,” each for a little girl who drowned, and added that the camp director “gave his life trying to save his girls.” In typical Ted Cruz fashion, he then pivoted back to the comforting embrace of Christian hymns and Republican unity, because no Texas tragedy is complete without a performative appeal to God and bootstraps.

Meanwhile, Trump bragged about getting emergency funds to Texas “within about 2 minutes,” claiming “no other president would do that.” Not to be outdone by the suffering of children, Trump managed to insert a bizarre aside about how his administration “got the cost of eggs right down,” which presumably will be a huge comfort to parents who just lost their kids in a flash flood.

At one point, Chip Roy leapt in to thank Trump for dropping everything to help, telling the media that “pointing fingers is for losers.” Because, you see, wanting to know why an alert system failed as children were swept from their beds is just “loser behavior” in Texas Strong™ world.

Ted Cruz closed by telling the story of a 14-year-old boy at another camp who helped save younger children from the rising water, calling it trauma but also “something to be proud of.” The event crescendoed with Trump declaring the spirit of Texas was “unity and competence,” a phrase so jarringly detached from the Trump brand that it practically echoed in the room.

In the end, Trump told the room: “We’re gonna make it back, we’re gonna make it back and we’re gonna make it good again,” not missing the opportunity to align the loss of children and homes with a vague campaign slogan about winning.

The entire event functioned as a grimly familiar blend of infomercial vibes, grief tourism, partisan attaboys, and disjointed bragging, with the dead and missing children held up as tragic proof of leadership, rather than as evidence of the profound failures of policy and preparedness that made this disaster so devastating. But hey, at least the president showed up for the photo op, promised to rebuild a store, and reminded Texas that eggs are cheaper now. So, mission accomplished, right?

follow me at marygeddry.substack.com and @magixarc.bsky.social

#KristiNoem #TedCruz #DrPhil #DisasterRelief #sociopath

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

[littlespoonevan]

Hi Ciara ☺️ I’ve been following you for years and years, pretty sure it was you that got me into skam back in the day and 911 more recently. So thanks for that 😄 Are you taking fic prompts by any chance? Because I saw a prompt in the wild that I would LOVE to see your take on (no pressure ofc!). The prompt is simple: either buck or Eddie brings up the topic of them getting together, like “have you ever thought of us being together?” And they have a frank, honest discussion about it. I love a good miscommunication and/or pining moment but I so rarely see this instead and I think it fits so well. I read another fic with this prompt and loved it, it’s called at the kitchen table by iphigenias. But that one was set during bucktaylor so I’d also love to see a similar premise but set post bucktommy! Anyway sorry for the very long ask luv u

ahh omg first of all, you sent this to me so long ago and i'm so sorry i'm only getting to it now!!! the good news is, 8b made this specific prompt very easy to imagine in a canon setting asdkjfh. also i looooove the idea of situations where the characters know how they feel and they're not quite ready to take the leap but just knowing is enough to make them feel all ✨✨✨ inside so that is what this is lol

this is set in some nebulous time post-8x15 when eddie is home and everything is fine and peaceful ❤️ i really hope it lives up to what you wanted :')

-

Buck passes Eddie another beer before climbing over his legs where they’re propped up on the coffee table to reach his own seat in the other corner of the couch.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie says and Buck hums in acknowledgment, slouching deeper into the couch cushion and picking up the remote to unpause the TV.

It’s a quiet Friday after an even quieter week and Buck is grateful for it. Especially after the turmoil of this past month. But Bobby’s safe and Eddie and Chris are home and Eddie hasn’t brought up kicking Buck out of his house yet so he intends to savour this night for all its worth.

“Hey, you never told me what happened with Tommy in the end.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at him when he says it, voice nonchalant and eyes trained on the movie they’re watching, but Buck still chokes on his beer.

“Um, what?”

Eddie casts him a sidelong glance. “Things seemed pretty awkward at that call yesterday.”

Ah. The call. The one that required air support. And of course, there was no one else at Harbour they could’ve possibly sent. Because the universe hates Buck.

Their greeting had been politely stilted until Eddie had appeared at Buck’s side and touched the spot between his shoulder blades to let him know they were ready to leave and then Tommy had made the same face he’d made in Eddie’s kitchen two months ago. Buck had almost swallowed his own tongue in an attempt not to snap back – not least of all because Eddie still doesn’t know what Tommy had said.

He knows they slept together. Knows Buck hasn’t called Tommy since. But that’s it.

“Oh it’s just-” Buck waves a hand, taking another pull of his beer to buy some time. “We had a…disagreement last time we spoke.”

Now, Eddie pauses the TV, feet dropping off the coffee table so he can turn more towards Buck. “When he stayed over.”

Buck cringes. Eddie has never really shared his opinion on Buck taking Tommy back here but it has to be weird, right? They were in Eddie’s room. At least it wasn’t his bed.

“Yeah. He just said something and it’s…” He shakes his head, not bothering to finish the sentence and hoping Eddie will let it drop.

He doesn’t, obviously.

“What’d he say?”

For a moment, Buck weighs his options. The odds of Eddie letting this go if he keeps being evasive are slim. But likewise, he can’t think of a good enough lie to satisfy Eddie’s curiosity. Dropping his head against the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling, he finally says, “He said something about you. And it pissed me off.”

“About me?”

He can hear the confusion in Eddie’s voice but he doesn’t dare raise his head to see what his face is doing.

“He um, implied that- that you were competition. For him. And that he was more willing to get back together now that you were gone.”

Eddie doesn’t answer right away and the silence stretches so long Buck has no choice but to look at him. He doesn’t look angry, at least. If anything, he looks like he’s working through a particularly difficult puzzle in his head.

Eventually, he asks, “When you say ‘implied’…?”

Buck clears his throat. “Uh, I believe his exact words were, ‘Now that the competition’s out of the way.’”

Eddie opens his mouth only to close it again a beat later and Buck finally lets the anxiety gnawing at his insides consume him.

“I told him it was stupid, obviously. And that it made no sense because you were straight. And-”

“Did he think I had feelings for you or that you had feelings for me?” Eddie interrupts.

Buck frowns. In the aftermath, he’d only ever really thought about what Tommy was insinuating about him, not Eddie. “Um, the second one? Or- b-both, I guess? But it doesn’t matter, I told him-”

“It’s okay, Buck. You don’t have to convince me of anything.” Eddie’s voice is gentle when he cuts in, too much of a soft place to land that Buck can’t help the way the frustration deflates out of him.

“I know, sorry. Just- he and I haven’t really spoken since then, so…”

The room quiets around them again but Eddie doesn’t press play on the movie. Buck plays with the label on his bottle and tries desperately to ignore the weird tension in the air until-

“Have you ever thought about it?”

Buck snaps his head up, finding Eddie watching him with an inscrutable expression. “Thought about what?”

“Us. Being together.”

For a second, Buck has the horrible, churning feeling that he’s somehow been caught out – that Eddie has unravelled the thread he’s kept so tightly wound in his head with just three simple words – but then he scrambles. “Wh- But- I mean, you’re straight and-”

“What if I wasn’t?”

The words pull Buck up short and his brain short-circuits long enough that all he can manage is a dumbfounded, “What.”

“What if I wasn’t?” Eddie repeats, voice still so, so soft. “If that’s your only argument against it-”

“Is this you coming out to me?” Buck cuts in and Eddie lets out a quiet laugh.

“No. Not really. Just- take that out of the equation. Have you thought about it before?”

“Have you?” Buck asks but it sure as hell sounds like Eddie has and-

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he echoes, throat constricting. “Whe- when is sometimes?”

Eddie shrugs and Buck feels slightly hysterical at how calm he’s being about all of this. Why is he being so calm about all of this?

“A few years ago when I was having a hard time. Back when I was working at dispatch.”

Buck remembers it. Remembers Christopher on the phone telling him he could hear yelling from Eddie’s room. Remembers breaking Eddie’s door down and that one sickening, horrifying moment where he thought Eddie was dead.

“You were taking Chris to school and making us dinner and helping me clean the house and sitting with me after therapy and we weren’t together but sometimes it felt like we were.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Eddie looks away, glancing down at the beer still in his hand. And even though it feels like his vision is swimming, Buck still sees the ghost of a smile on Eddie’s face before he continues.

“I loved you so much for it, y’know, because I really don’t think I would’ve made it through those months without you. And- I don’t know. Sometimes it felt…comforting, I guess. To think that you were my partner outside of work too.”

The words, “I am,” rise up inside his throat so fast Buck nearly bites clean through the inside of his cheek to stop them from tripping out of him. And it’s just-

He doesn’t know what to say.

He doesn’t know how to process what Eddie’s admitting to. Is he even admitting to anything? He’s admitting he took comfort in Buck’s presence, sure, but that’s not him saying he’s in love with Buck and- and it’s different. Because Buck likes men. So for him to entertain it would…would really fucking hurt, actually. And Buck is so tired of being hurt-

“So, back to my earlier question. Have you ever thought about it?”

Eddie is looking at him with wide, patient eyes. And it’s a look so full of understanding and fondness Buck can feel his throat constricting again and…

“Tommy and Maddie kind of made me think about it.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Maddie’s involved now?”

“I told her what Tommy said.”

“And what did she think?”

Buck lets out a reluctant huff and looks anywhere but Eddie’s face. “That it wouldn’t be so crazy.”

Eddie hums but doesn’t say anymore.

“So I guess I thought about why they would think that,” Buck continues, squeezing the bottle in his hand so tightly he’s afraid it actually might shatter. “And I- I get it. I think.”

It’s the understatement of the century. Because maybe he’s never let himself delve too deep into the thought but it’s only because he knows what he’d find if he did. And he can’t allow that. Can’t do anything that would risk him losing Eddie permanently. He’s too important. Buck is happy with the pieces of him that he’s allowed to have. He doesn’t need all of him, he can survive on this alone.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, finally meeting Eddie’s gaze and swallowing the lump in his throat. “We’re important to each other.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Eddie’s calm composure falls away and his face splits into a devastating smile. “Yeah, we are.”

He imagines it, then. His fingers catching in Eddie’s collar, reeling him in for a kiss. He almost thinks Eddie would kiss him back. He doesn’t actually do it because everything feels a little bit too precarious right now but-

But.

“So we’ve both thought about it,” Eddie says, voice betraying nothing even if he’s still smiling.

“Guess so,” Buck croaks in reply.

Eddie’s flicker all over his face and Buck doesn’t know what he finds there but his expression softens and he says, “We don’t have to think about it right now.”

The words come out quietly, a tentative reprieve that has all the air rushing out of Buck’s lungs.

Because this feels like the precipice of something and Buck isn’t sure if he’s ready to take the leap yet but maybe he doesn’t have to. Because maybe Eddie will wait and maybe Buck won’t look for another place to rent and he can take Chris to school again and make them all dinner and it can feel like they’re…

Partners.

He wants it so much it scares the shit out of him. He’s never even let himself imagine Eddie might want it too.

For now, he lets himself sit with the idea of maybe.

Maybe he loves Eddie. Maybe Eddie loves him back.

Maybe there was never any competition to begin with.

“Okay,” he whispers, trying for a smile that matches Eddie’s own.

Eddie ducks his head in response, the faintest pink colouring his cheeks as he picks up the remote and presses play on the movie Buck has no intention of watching anymore.

Their eyes meet once more before skittering away and Buck breathes out a laugh.

Partners. Maybe.

-

[dinosus]

"Metal-heart: Genesis" ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚

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Meet "Riven," a product of a cybernetic experiment that blurred the line between humanity and machine. He wasn't born like this—he was rebuilt. Once a decorated soldier, Riven’s body was salvaged after a catastrophic battlefield incident, his remaining flesh fused with bleeding-edge tech. The world calls him an unstoppable weapon; to him, he's a man chasing the shreds of his own soul. Android x Scientist! Reader

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Riven wasn’t rebuilt just to survive. You had a singular mission in mind—a near-impossible goal that required a being more machine than man.. 🔧When you first rebuilt Riven, he was a shell—his voice was monotone, his eyes hollow. He followed your instructions like a machine, rarely speaking unless prompted. There were no pleasantries, no “thank yous,” only blunt, mechanical efficiency.

"Where do you need me? Give the order."

You weren’t sure if he resented you for saving him or if he was simply beyond caring.

🔧The first time you saw Riven react with emotion was over something small. Maybe you handed him a repaired piece of gear without saying anything, and he muttered under his breath:

"This fits better. Guess you’re learning." It was so unexpected, you almost dropped your tools. He had just teased you. Slowly but surely, his wit started creeping through the cracks.

🔧Riven watches you work constantly. At first, it’s unnerving—those cold, calculating eyes fixed on your every movement. But you realize it’s not mistrust; he’s studying you, learning how you work, because he doesn’t understand why you’d care so much about him.

"You don’t need to fix me perfectly every time, Doc. I’m built to break."

"I don’t leave work unfinished, Riven. Sit still."

🔧One night, while fine-tuning his neural systems, you stumbled on a corrupted memory file. For a split second, his guard dropped—you heard snippets of his past, his voice raw and human. He didn’t lash out or shut down; instead, he stared ahead and said quietly:

"....Don’t look at me like that, you can’t fix this part of me."

You didn’t push him, but that night, you left a blanket over his chair when you finished your work. He noticed.

🔧Riven isn’t good with words when it comes to care, but his actions speak volumes. If you’ve been up too long working, he’ll stand behind you and lean down to mutter:

"Go to sleep, Doc. This thing will still be here when you wake up." And if you protest, you’ll find your tools taken out of your hands as he shuts the lab lights off himself.

🔧Riven takes your safety personally. If you’re ever in danger—whether from mercenaries, drones, or even a collapsing building—his instinct is to shield you first and fight second. He does it silently, but there’s an edge of urgency in his voice:

"You don’t get to die, Doc. Not after all this."

🔧When he returns damaged—gashes through metal plating, his synthetic skin frayed—you scold him like a concerned parent.

"You think you’re invincible, don’t you? Sit down, Riven." He doesn’t argue. He just stares at you with that unreadable expression and lets you work, the tension in his shoulders easing as your hands mend him.

Sometimes he mutters under his breath when you’re too focused: "Your hands don’t shake anymore. You’ve gotten good at this."

🔧Riven can be sarcastic, sometimes even darkly humorous. He throws comments your way that only someone who trusts you would dare say.

"So what’s the verdict today, Doc? Am I still pretty, or did you make me uglier?"

"You’ve always been pretty, Riven. Just sit still before I lose my grip."

🔧You’ve learned to give it back to him. He actually smirks when you push back because it reminds him he’s not just a weapon to you.

"Riven, I swear if you tear that neural wire again—"

"Relax, Doc. I’ll give you something to fix tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to get bored."

🔧Some nights, when you’re both too exhausted to pretend otherwise, you sit in the dim light of the lab. Riven leans back against a wall or your workbench, his voice softer than usual.

"Do you ever wonder what’s next, after all this?"

"After defeating the [enemy]? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll open a coffee shop."

"…I don’t drink coffee, Doc."

"Then you’re not invited." Moments like these remind him he’s still allowed to dream, even if he doesn’t believe he’ll live long enough to see it.

����One day, you started playing music while working, and to your shock, Riven quietly remarked:

"I remember this song." He didn’t elaborate, but from then on, music became a constant in your lab. It’s your way of reminding him there’s still beauty in the world.

🔧If you’re ever injured, Riven loses his composure. He doesn’t rage or panic—he focuses, taking you somewhere safe and patching you up with an efficiency that mirrors your own care for him. He doesn’t yell, but his voice is strained.

"You’re the one who’s supposed to keep me in one piece, not the other way around." He's a worrywart.

🔧When faced with an impossible situation—when enemy’s forces close in and the odds are bleak—you and Riven have a way of grounding each other.

"You don’t have to stay with me for this, Riven."

"And leave you to screw it all up? Not happening, Doc. We’re finishing this together."

🔧Riven may be a weapon, but to you, he’s so much more. You remind him of his humanity, even when he feels like there’s nothing left. In return, he’s your shield—the one constant in your dangerous life.

He calls you “Doc” or “the genius.” On rare, quiet occasions, he says your name.

You see him not as a machine, but as a man trying to piece himself back together—much like you’ve rebuilt his body.

At the heart of it all, you’re each other’s anchor. Riven fights because you gave him purpose. You fight because he gave you someone worth believing in.

🔧Riven would never admit it out loud, but you are the first person who’s ever seen him as something other than a weapon. And for that, he’ll burn the entire world down if it means keeping you safe.

"You fixed me once, Doc. But you’re the only reason I haven’t fallen apart again." In this fallen world, you made him- your anchor.

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A/n : new prompt :D yay i tried :') part 2 ? also credits go to original artist who created that kick-ass design of Riven !

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ignore these yay :D

[sea-lanterns]

GODS the nanny concept! Fuck me that's so good!

Just imagine your first day arriving at the manor, you check and double check that the address is correct before finally knocking on the door. The sounds that are muffled by the door sound chaotic and messy, before display the entry swings open to reveal a slightly disheveled Clorinde with a toddler squirming under her arm. You're too stunned to go into the proper introduction you had practiced, so when she asks with more hope then you catch if you're the new nanny, you just nod dumbly for her.

And when she takes that answer and quickly deposits the toddler into your arms instead, she can't help but be a little stunned when a switch flips in you and you just start calmly talking to and playing with her child, and they instantly relax in your hold. She leads you inside as she can't help but wonder how her wife found and hired such a cute little thing that seemed to have a magical effect on their normally load and chaotic child. Clorinde's surprise quickly becoming shared as she leads you into a room where Navia is waiting with an infant safely swaddled in her arms.

They talk you through their expectations as the two children are now quietly sleeping on you both, Clorinde sitting beside her wife and closely watching every little repression you make as you talk with Navia. They set the bar high for previous nannies who all quit after finding that keeping up with the toddler while taking care of the infant was too much to handle, but you hardly even blink as they set out rules and requirements. And in the weeks that follow you never stray from those rules for even a moment.

In fact you even go beyond that, the couple waking up in the early morning to find you already have coffee set out for them both, while you keep busy cooking food for them as well as the children. Navia comes home later then normal and there you are with a little treat and a nice massage to help her relax. Clorinde takes a day off, for once, and you somehow have her dressed comfortably and enjoying a gorgeous picnic with the children. Both women can't help but swoon at you, how even though you're much younger then them, you take such good care of not just their children, but them as well.

After a small talk between them though, they slip. They both know that they are starting to feel something for you, Navia has caught Clorinde staring at you with a tent in her skirt, but its Navia who in her exhausted state returning home much later then she's used to. The manor is quiet, but she finds you busying yourself in the kitchen, and on pure instinct and tired desire, she wraps her arms around your waste and pressed her lips so terribly softly against the back of your neck. Being the eager and obedient thing that you are, you don't say a word, just let out a dreamy sigh that has her near dripping down her thighs.

Clorinde wants to be disappointed when she comes down to see if Navia is home yet, just to find her wife has you pinned down on a kitchen counter one of your legs thrown over her shoulder and knuckles deep in your pussy. But how can she possibly be when she's been dreaming of this very sight for days, losing sleep to imagining how you would cry when they make you cum too many times. But when she makes herself known by grabbing a handful of your thigh and claiming her wife's lips for herself. The almost painful bulge between her legs tells her how much better you'll be in reality then in her dreams.

~🐁

HNNNGHSHHSH oh to be sandwiched between MILF! Clorivia 😩

And Navia, ever the bolder of the two. She’s the reason you get involved with them so intimately in the first place, as without her tiredly kissing you and pinning you to the counter to fuck you, her and Clorinde would’ve stuck to just touching each other and imagining you between them. Never daring to make a move on the cute nanny they hired for their kids…

Secretly, Clorinde is overjoyed that Navia made the first move. Now she can stop fisting herself to images of you spread in front of her and her wife, and finally feel what your pussy truly feels like. Well, as soon as Navia gets her fingers out of there, that is. Seriously, Clorinde has never seen her wife so eager to fuck another woman other than herself, the blonde whispering sweet praises into your ear for how well you take her invading digits.

“Look look, her cunt just welcomes my fingers in like a friend! Isn’t that adorable?” Navia can be embarrassing when she teases, reveling in the whine you let out at your boss’s dirty talk. “Oh Navia, don’t tease her like that.” Clorinde grumbles and puts her hand on your thigh to spread you further, getting that delicious view of your pussy drooling over Navia’s knuckles. “She is a grown woman, treat her as such.”

As if to reinforce her words, Clorinde suddenly pulls you in for a kiss and begins unbuckling her pants, an exhaled sigh of relief leaving her throat when she feels your mouth part for her tongue. With the expertise of an experienced woman, Clorinde pulls her shaft out of her pants and pumps it within her fist, getting it nice and ready for the woman who will take her. Navia giggles at seeing Clorinde’s enthusiasm, leaning down to kiss your ear. “Is this your first time, ma cherie? Don’t worry, we’ll get that pussy of yours shaped to fit her.”

Navia playfully slaps your clit and slides her fingers out of you. Clorinde takes her place between your legs, angling her cock, with Navia making an obscene show of licking your slick off her fingers. “You’ll get used to the feeling of her filling you soon enough.”

Better hope the Caspar kids don’t wake up, because soon the kitchen will get very, very loud…

[hedwig221b]

Not necessarily bamf Stiles but maybe a similar vein brought on by another post: feral, overly protective Stiles? Like no chill if one of his is messed with but everyone else can burn for all he cares?

I could not be more late with this... But here you go 💕

isn't a little agony worth it? by whentheywrite

"You took my pack,” the emissary said, pausing at the head of the hallway. “Now I’m gonna take them back.” Col retreated behind the line of guns. The emissary’s gaze traveled over them all and his eyes darkened. He took a step forward, ignoring the tightening of every finger around the trigger. “It’s doesn’t matter how many of there you are,” he said, words almost a snarl. He moved closer— Col started to tremble. “I’m going to kill every single one of you until I find them. Do you understand me?” “Stand down, boy!” “Do you understand me? I’ll burn this whole fucking place down if I have to!”

To Find Yourself Worthy by churkey

Stiles might not like Derek but that doesn't mean he's just going sit idly by when Scott kicks him out of the pack.

all the kissing by wearing_tearing

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Stiles, Derek’s husband. Now would you kindly take your hands off of him?”

There’s A Beast In My Heart (He’ll Only Bow To You) by RayShippouUchiha

"Stiles.” Derek fucking whimpers and if Stiles wasn’t already dying he’d kill himself for making Derek sound so hurt. Stiles just wants to protect him so much sometimes because no one else ever seems to realize that Derek is so goddamn fragile and Stiles hates them all a little bit for not being able to see that. Or In an effort to expel the Nogitsune Stiles is given the bite but it all goes horribly wrong.

In Your Hands by StarShineForMe

Spit forms at the corners of Gerard’s mouth as he dips his head towards Stiles, the tendons in his neck standing out in anger. “You’d do well to end this now, boy. Give…me…the…Alpha!” Gerard glares at him with crazed eyes, glittering with rage. Stiles purses his lips to hold in a sob, then takes a long, shuddering breath. “No,” he says, quiet but resolute. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m never gonna give you Derek Hale.” *Stiles' kidnapping and the aftermath- full of puppy Isaac, slow burn to explicit in love Sterek, and the makings of a ragtag pack family as they go

and there you stand, clothed in all your glory (i am stumbling and fumbling and reaching out) by snickiebear

Stiles looks at him and Derek doesn't know what to do with his hands. or, stiles is the resident bad boy with his tattoos and bike and leather jacket. derek's hopelessly in love with him and a werewolf. these things go hand in hand.

Abiding By Pack Law by neil4god

Traditionally the Alpha mate must meet certain requirements, however there are always certain exceptions. For every rule there is someone who has broken it, well almost every rule. There is one rule that no-one has ever broken. The alpha's pack must approve the match, if they don't, well a new mate is required. Unfortunately Stiles know he doesn't fit the requirements, the pack hate him, Derek just hasn't realised it yet.

The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.

Hunters beware by Nival_Vixen

Stiles and Derek have been kidnapped, drugged, and tortured. Their captors still aren't entertained, so they set Stiles and Derek up in a contraption that makes Stiles torture Derek instead. He hasn't slept in three days.

Drain by syriala

Stiles screams, furious and scared, and his magic just explodes. It fills him up from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, flowing through his whole body and Stiles revels in the power he suddenly has at his disposal. He knows he could move mountains if only he wanted to, but all he wants to do is tear that foreign alpha apart for daring to touch Derek.

Don't Touch My Things (That Includes Him) by Kymera219

Hunters decide to kidnap Derek.. Stiles shows them why that's a bad idea

Summer heat by pineneedlepants

Derek's lazy summer day ends in a wolfsbane poisoning and a heat stroke. Only half of that is Scott's fault.

[masterlist link]

[r-memberme]

technique | k.m

⎯⎯Then Klaus, in the most delighted tone imaginable, says, “Sweetheart, I do believe you just murdered an innocent shrubbery.”

warnings: fluff

part I part II

She never should have agreed to this.

Not because she dislikes mini golf, but because Klaus Mikaelson is the most competitive man on the face of the earth, and now she is stuck watching him take this ridiculous game as seriously as if he were waging war.

And worse—he is winning.

“Focus, love,” he drawls from behind her as she lines up her shot. “Or must I remind you of the tragic fate of your last attempt?”

She exhales through her nose, resisting the urge to throw the club at his head. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Klaus hums, far too amused. “No? Shall I fetch the poor, lost ball from the parking lot, then?”

She glares. He smirks. The infuriating part is that he’s not even lying. The last hole had resulted in a truly spectacular failure, the ball bouncing off a rock, skittering past the windmill, and vanishing into the abyss beyond the course.

“I don’t need your commentary,” she mutters.

“Oh, but darling, I am merely providing moral support.”

She scowls, taking a breath, adjusting her grip. She will not let him get to her. She will—

Klaus steps forward, far too close, his voice a wicked thing in her ear. “You’re holding the club wrong.”

She startles, nearly dropping the club entirely. “I am not!”

He tuts, shaking his head, before bracketing her with his arms, his hands ghosting over hers. “Here,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin, “Let me show you.”

She stiffens. Not because it’s unpleasant—oh no, that would be too simple. No, she stiffens because he is doing it on purpose, taking every possible opportunity to fluster her. And judging by the barely-contained laughter in his voice, he knows it’s working.

“Better?” he asks, all false innocence.

She exhales sharply, trying very hard to ignore how solid he feels pressed against her back. “Just move, Klaus.”

He chuckles, stepping back with an infuriating slowness, as if he’s already won whatever game he’s playing.

Which, considering her current state, he might have.

She shakes it off, re-centers herself, and finally swings.

The ball ricochets off the rock, bounces off the windmill, then—impossibly—flies off the course entirely, disappearing into the bushes with a soft thud.

Silence.

Then Klaus, in the most delighted tone imaginable, says, “Sweetheart, I do believe you just murdered an innocent shrubbery.”

She groans, dragging a hand down her face. “I hate this game.”

Klaus is grinning like the devil himself. “No, love, you just hate losing.”

She turns to him, expression flat. “Oh, you think you’re so good, don’t you?”

He flourishes his club like a sword. “Darling, I am the Michelangelo of mini golf.”

She snorts, incredulous. “Michelangelo was a painter.”

“A sculptor, actually.”

“Not the point.”

Klaus, still smirking, steps up to take his shot. His confidence is infuriating, the way he moves so easily, as if the universe itself would never dare let him fail.

Of course, the ball rolls smoothly into the hole on his first try.

“Oh, come on!” she groans, throwing her arms in the air.

Klaus twirls the putter between his fingers, utterly pleased with himself. “It’s all in the technique, love.”

She considers, for a brief but passionate moment, pushing him into the nearest water hazard.

Instead, she crosses her arms, scowling. “I don’t even know why I’m still trying. You’ve clearly made a blood pact with the mini-golf gods.”

He laughs, stepping closer, eyes bright with mischief. “Perhaps I have. Or perhaps you simply require further guidance.”

She narrows her eyes. “If you try to ‘fix my form’ again, I will swing this club at your head.”

Klaus grins. “Ah, but then how will you ever stand a chance at beating me?”

She exhales. “I’m not beating you. This is impossible.”

He hums, thoughtful, before tilting his head. “How about a wager then?”

She raises a brow. “A wager?”

“If you win the next hole, I’ll grant you one favor. Anything you desire.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “And if I lose?”

Klaus’ smirk turns slow, wicked. “Then you owe me a favor.”

She hesitates. This is dangerous territory. Wagering with Klaus is always dangerous.

But then she thinks of the potential reward—the sweet, sweet possibility of wiping that smug look off his face.

“…Fine,” she says, gripping the putter. “You’re on.”

Klaus inclines his head, looking entirely too pleased. “Then by all means, love. Show me what you’ve got.”

do tell me if you want a part 2 of this one <3

taglist: @ohapple@myworldrightnow@deactiveblogx@witch-of-letters@xtwistedchaosx

[artsninspo]

006 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 005

♠ summary: Thrust into leadership, Lorence battles pressure, secrecy, and an enigmatic boss—until his unexpected attentiveness causes things to heat up more than expected ☕.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~2.6K

⌖ - Richmond Inc. HQ

The new demands of my position are both a gift and a curse as I’m required to expand my knowledge base and think as a leader. There’s an element of freedom that I've been robbed of in this new position. There’s no time for fresh ideas and innovation in the same way there's no freedom to make mistakes. There’s no one to ask to review the work I have - I'm the final step in the pecking order before the other’s at my level look and ultimately Richmond’s eyes scan over it. I’d be lying if I said the thought doesn’t unnerve me. Dissatisfaction on his face and the scolding that will undoubtedly follow is a nagging inevitability. I’ve sat through so many briefings that I miss doing the work. This week has been an overwhelming barrage of discourse, planning and preparation. We’ve gone over logistics and transportation which is my specialty. Monaco is a logistical and transportation nightmare but I’ve taken all the necessary notes to make sure everything goes off without a hitch. Which includes sending one of my best agents there in person to scope out the scene and get the necessary measurements and blueprints. It’s my first major assignment and with my budget sky’s the limit. Consulting for the organization responsible for the formula one race's security is not something I ever considered in the realm of possibility; so I make the most of it. I add to my list of tasks and lock the documents before going over my new operating budgets. I still have money to spend but until my best guy is back I can’t be sure where the resources will be best allocated. I’m researching local charities in the area when Richmond appears in the doorway. It’s his first time stopping by all week and I can’t say I’ve missed the light eyed giant. 

“Sir” I stand.

“Cole, I’ve received preliminary drafts from all the other teams. Is there something you require assistance with?” He asks, leaning in the doorway. He’s in a white knitted sweater today looking too casual for a man like him. 

“I thought we had another week” I respond, disregarding how his arms fill out the otherwise cuddly, cozy ensemble, transforming it into something different altogether.

“I like to look over things by the project’s midpoint,” he explains, folding his arms.

“Well, I’m new and I didn’t know that” I swallow daring to meet his eyes.

“We can go over what you have for now,” Richmond says entering my office. I straighten, hating his presence and proximity. With Richmond it isn't walking on eggshells, it's like walking on glass barefoot. I stand walking over to the table and pressing the projector button. I unencrypted my files and show him what I’ve been working on. He watches attentively, his eyes scanning through the details projected in front of him.

“They’re color coded by threat level” he says perceptively interpreting the markings I have on the 3D map model of the area the races will take place in. 

“Yeah, it determines what will work in terms of an emergency exits.” I state, explaining my process.

“So you don’t only look at routes?” He asks.

“No, when I develop my plans I consider routes, danger, closures, alternate routes and transportation that is as discreet as possible while being resilient and agile” I explain and he nods zooming in on my tablet.

“You’re looking for places to land helicopters? Possible counter sniper positions.” He says interpreting my work in seconds. Impressive isn’t the word. Nothing is explicitly stated there’s just circles, dots, x’s and stars in a variety of colours.

“Yeah” I nod and he looks from the tablet back to me, with a ghost of a smirk on his lips, only for it to be gone as soon as it appears.

“You’re doing Jameson work for him.” He comments.

“I understand why our teams are separate but I think all aspects should inform each other” I swallow and his expression hardens.

“That’s not your job. It’s to take direction. No one should be fully informed of the other's actions in case of leaks. Your team needs to be agile. Keep your work to yourself” he orders going back to his military facade.

“With all the testing you still don’t trust us?” I ask and he scowls. His jaw sets before clicking as he clenches  it. 

“It’s not about trust. It’s about what a person gives away during torture. How can I protect my team from that? The rules are in place for a reason. Adhere to them” he orders again but his eyes are more sensitive. If I were a psychiatrist I could diagnose his paranoia and mood swings but as a civilian I table my judgement.

“The non patronizing way to say that is;  follow protocol Cole” I quip before he gets carried away and it ends poorly.

“I don’t care if you don’t like my delivery. At least you’ll be alive not to like it” he comments standing. I can't help the sharp look I send his way. If he were anyone else I wouldn’t put up with it. “Good work” he says finally but somehow the praise falls flat.

“Have you lost a lot of people?” I ask and the tension in his shoulders answers the question in an instant. His expression sobers. 

“I’ve seen a lot of death,” he nods. I look him over before nodding. It at least explains his incessant over preparation and commitment to structure, secrecy and preventative measures.

“I’m sorry,” seems the only appropriate response.

“You won’t have to be if you follow protocol. Your safety equipment needs to be fitted before we go wheels up, go see Cassandra. I’m scheduling you for some extra hand to hand” he says adding more to my plate.

“I don’t have time for extra hand to hand, I’m behind” I tell him pointing to the projections.

“No you’re not” he swallows. “You’ll fry your brain if you continue staring at blueprints. Movement will serve you more than sitting at your desk” he says parroting what I’ve heard from Jameson. I wonder if it's advice Jameson has commandeered from the Boss.

“Okay” I concede. RIchmond seems surprised by my concession but he nods, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Cassandra appears in the doorway and I let out a relieved breath.

“I hope you’re being nice.” she says, looking him over. Richmond doesn’t dignify her with a response. “Are you finished or can I steal Cole - her safety second skins are in” Cassandra says.

“We’re done and I have ten minutes” he says looking at his watch. I go along with them walking to his office suite instead of asking questions. Two suits wait in a box in his conference room. One is my perfect nude shade, it nearly looks like mesh but it's made of something stronger. It’s fully opaque and when I hold it up I frown wondering what in the T’Challa Black Panther, Richmond has paid for me to wear.

I raise a brow. “What’s this for?” 

“Protection, no burns, cuts or bullets can pierce it. A safety precaution” Cassandra responds.

“Try it on,” Richmond says, stepping out of the room.

“Please!” Cassandra scowls at him as she closes the door. I hold it up again and wonder what else money can buy. I head into the ensuite and I undress quickly. I step into the unitard that fits almost like a second skin. I manage the nearly invisible zipper at my side and look in the mirror. I look remarkably naked and tense up when I see shaded contouring that could pass for real hips and ass.

“Need help?” I hear Cassandra ask from outside.

“Uhh?” I respond and she giggles.

“That’s exactly how I felt - can we come in?” she asks.

“I guess” I responded, not quite sure. I remind myself I’m not naked as I leave the bathroom and re-enter the conference room as they come in. Cassandra’s eyes scan me.

“Toes are wonky” she says to Richmond whose eyes are glued to my body. 

“The suit is wonky” he comments with eyes on my breasts. “May I touch you?” he asks without making eye contact.

“Ok” I respond unsure if no is even an option and he stands behind me pulling the material taut until I can feel it on my chest and stomach like a corset. When I look behind he hes standing with a handful of the suit.

“That’s how it should fit” he tells Cassandra, sparing a look her way. The suit feels completely different with this kind of tension. He grapes lower, gathering the same amount of fabric in the small of my back. I feel like a doll in his care as he manhandles the suit. It’s oddly erotic, or maybe it’s been too long since a man has had his hands on me. He goes to do the same around my hips but there’s no stretch left. 

“Can you see if there’s any give?” he asks as if he hasn't already probably made at least five HR violations. I oblige finding some give.

“Hold it like that” Richmond demands and I wonder if he’s this bossy in bed. Girl, get your head out of the gutter!

“Cassandra test its resistance” he says and Cassandra comes over with some sort of scanner gun reading all over my body noting weak points with a red marker as well as what needs to be removed. 

“The suit has to fit like a glove, it’s most effective when the fibres are extended to their limit they interlock creating … well armour.” she explains.

“What if I have to pee?” I ask being practical.

“You’ll get a zipper once everything else fits seamlessly” Cassandra explains. It’s another level of overkill.

“Does everyone wear these?” I ask.

“They aren't required for smaller scale events, I always wear mine for the big ones” she explains. Richmond is still staring at me and it makes me feel naked, the proximity, the physical toughness, the attention. My body hums like a starving stomach craving sustenance. I’m gonna need to see a therapist for sure, I think looking away from him and back to Cassandra who clears her throat.

“Mr. Richmond, you have a call in two” she says to him and he nods, peeling his eyes from my ass. 

“Ensure it fits perfectly...Please” He says, taking one last look at me. He looks at Cassandra who nods with a smirk on her lips before leaving.

“I’m gonna go change” I announce heading into the restroom. When I get out I hand her the suit.

“Is he always so hands on?” I ask, a little unnerved.

“Hands on… he was with me but he was a lot less attentive and there was a lot more back and forth bickering until he pulled it so tight I couldn't breathe comfortably.” she discloses amused.

“I’m pretty sure that’s wrong of him” I remark.

“Terry’s like family - he’d never actually hurt me and lord knows he could” she huffs sitting on the conference table. Her disposition makes me think of them like siblings opposed to coworkers. The most toxic workplaces have the ‘family titles’ it's definitely a red flag.

“So how was your first week?’ she beams crossing her legs but my mind is on how it felt to be constricted in his hold and hugged by the suit.

“I’ve only considered quitting right now” I smile and she laughs.

“I came to your office because I was sure there was going to be fireworks. Terry was too but with how at ease he was I'd say you’re doing amazing on your first assignment. What was his feedback? I can help you decode its meaning to stay on his good side.” she smiles and I’m excited until I realize there was none.

“He just told me to stick to the protocol and that I did a good job. Oh and he prescribed extra hand to hand” I explain and her eyes light. Her smile widens like a Cheshire cat and she shakes her head.

“He’s setting me up to fail isn't he?” I ask, afraid of some humiliation ritual test.

Cassandra shakes her head. “No Lorence, it means you're keeping him up at night. He must think you're one of the best”

“I don’t copy.” I confess.

“The best agents are all the same Lorence and they never leave their people behind when shit hits the fan. He doesn't think you’ll be tripped up by the plans so he’s preparing you for the people.” she explains.

“Do I have anyone but him to fear?” I ask.

“No, that’s how I know you’re keeping him up. The guys that we’d need to fear see us as menu options - they don't know we’re trained to kick their ass and so they never have security with them. They’re easy to outsmart before things get ‘hand to hand’” Cassandra explains and it’s consistent with training. I get a reverie of the intensity in Richmonds eyes as he held the extra fabric of my suit taut, again. I never put much stock in her words before.

“I think you're wrong. Richmond doesnt look like he needs help attracting women. I’m sure you’ve had to shoo away your fare share.” I respond.

“Are you kidding?! He’s a work-a-holic. I've only seen him flirt for better access. His indiscretions are kept from me if they exist” she comments. “Come on, let's go shopping for after hours  in Monaco - I have a few party invites with an open plus one slot.” she winks and it sounds like a good way to relax and enjoy the rest of the day. Retail therapy is still therapy after all.

Cassandra and I end up in the heart of the city in stores with names that English speakers need tutorials to pronounce. Cassandra can sell salt to a snail because she convinces me to indulge in whims that are unfamiliar and then she swipes the company card stating outfits while on vacation are somehow a business expense. Paranoia makes me set aside the amounts in case it’s some test or something the Boss intends to scream at me for later. But for the rest of the night from shopping all the way to my night routine I’m a little uneasy. Terry Richmond’s ability to rattle me is unmatched. Whether in anger or cloaked kindness. The intensity of his expression is imprinted in my mind. 

I lay awake in bed slightly amused by the irony of Cassandra’s words. At least if they’re true I’m keeping him from sleeping too. It feels like some consolation for all he’s put me through. Maybe my haywire feelings are the result of something akin to Stockholm syndrome. The result of that stupid test. His gaze comes back to me again and the attention held within them. My body heats as recognition clicks into place, its reaction starts to make sense. After years of feeling unnerved and unsure I’ve read the first real emotions from him. There was real sincerity in his eyes. No resentment or animosity. Maybe hints of more complicated emotions but at its core it seemed to be pure preoccupation with my safety.

My body seems to settle at my brain's recognition of the day's events. The anxious energy leaves my body and I settle when it becomes clear to me that before all else my boss wants me to be okay. Before I take my last conscious thought, I promise to move forward with Richmond with that at the forefront of my brain.

authors note: what are you doing if you're Lorence and the boss gets all close and touchy feely? Fight, freeze, call HR - I have to know! Let me know what you think in a comment or reblog 🖤 if you enjoyed things heating up dont forget to comment, reblog and like!

007 ⇛

click here to ✮ join taglist ✮ and be notified when new updates drop.

[restinslices]

LKBS & Pegging

Do I have writers block? Yes. Will I ever have writers block when it comes to this topic? No. A lil headcanon post with a drabble at the end for each of them. OBVIOUSLY MDNI

Now this post isn't a "do they like pegging?" thing. It's a "scenarios I see happening / how they go about it" type of post

Now that that's out the way

Bi-Han has a hard time letting go of control. Even as a sub, he wants to have some sense of control. When it comes to pegging, I think his "sense of control" would be picking out the dildo you use

Which, honestly, seems fair. Some people aren't into that "surprise me" shit

A scenario I can see happening is him being stressed tf out... Which is almost everyday-

This particular day though, he needs that shit fucked out of him. And I don't see him beating around the bush. He's very straightforward and tells you he needs you to fuck him

He wants his brain turned into mush. So much so, he picks a dildo he's never asked you to use because of how large it is

Wanted to go no lube but you had to step in at that point

Idk, I just feel like he has a pain kink

Definitely wants to ride you because it lets him set the pace. Now could he have just masturbated? Yes. But he didn't want to. He still wants your presence there, but he wants to steer the ship this time

He looks hot while doing it, so why not let him?

Bi-Han swore he only needed one thing from you today; for you to lay there and look pretty while he rode you.

You certainly wouldn't deny him. Not when he looked so good fucking himself on a cock he hadn't dared to touch before today. His face scrunched with each inch he took, even grabbing your hand for support. By the time he started rocking his hips back and forth, he still hadn't taken it all.

His fingers remained intertwined with yours as he bounced on the inches he managed to take, heavy breathing and curses slipping past his pretty lips. "Fucking- oh fuck!" his hair brushed against his shoulders with every move he made, which only added to his beauty in your eyes, "just what I needed. Ah-! I wanna take it all.

Your hands moved down from fondling his breasts, to holding his hips firmly. If he wanted something, you'd have no problem with giving it to him. He always loved when you pushed him anyway.

You slammed him down on the rest of your length, causing a scream to leave him and for white ropes to shoot from his cock, staining the both of you. "Again... " he managed to get out while catching his breath, "again. Do it again"

What right did you have to deny him?

If I remember correctly, I think on my "If Kuai Liang Was A Sub" I said he'd be into free use. That and somnophilia

If I didn't, I'm saying it now

I cannot stress this enough, this is consensual and requires discussions beforehand. Do not just randomly try this

Now that that's out the way

Kuai Liang and you came to the agreement that you'd know whether or not he was okay with it for that night based on what he's wearing. If he's wearing boxers, then it's a no, however if he's wearing black boxers, then it's okay. If he's wearing nothing at all, then he better be woken up to you fucking him

That's usually reserved for when you haven't had time to spend with each other

This just so happened to be one of those nights

Now Kuai Liang isn't against rough sex, but I feel like he also enjoys slow and romantic sex

No rushing required. Just you inside him, kissing, hands all over each other, basking in each other's warmth

He's definitely down with "fuck me until I can't walk" type of sex, but sometimes he wants to put that off

Also he definitely loves eye contact while he's getting pegged. He wants you to see how good you make him feel

Praising from both you and him

It's weirdly cute sex

Bi-Han needs to hurry and kill Harumi so I can steal her man

I'M JOKING

With lips attached and hands roaming each other's bodies, relief was the best word to describe how you both felt. After a long day spent mostly away from each other, a night of passion was exactly what you both needed.

You cupped his face, tongue gliding along his own, slowly fucking in and out of him. "I was so glad to find you like this" you admit, lips leaving his so you could leave soft kisses along his jaw. "You're all I could think about today. I missed you"

"I missed you too". You knew he did, but hearing it out loud still made butterflies flutter inside you. Was that silly? Feeling butterflies when being told you were missed, as if you weren't fucking him? Maybe. Who cared? He lifted his hips up, meeting each of your thrusts, "you should see how you look from my view. You're stunning"

"I'm stunning?" You questioned, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You're the one taking me so well, and yet I'm stunning?

"Yeah"

You rolled your eyes. Corny as always, but you weren't against it. "You're an idiot"

"That's okay" he said, before pulling your face down, allowing him to pepper kisses all over your face despite your protests.

Yeah, he was a huge idiot.

Good thing it didn't bother you.

Now, it's basically tradition on this blog for me to make this man a secret whore

I have no plans on stopping anytime soon

On the bed, the floor, the counter, the shower, the couch, a chair-

BEND THAT ASS OVER! LET THAT BUSSY BREATHE

Okay, let me stop

I feel like it really is as simple as "I'm a grown ass man and I'm horny" with him

Sometimes ppl just wanna be slut out

Y'all, we get hardly any content of him. I'm grasping at straws, and you should allow this

I said he has a humiliation and degradation kink in my "If Tomas Was A Sub" post, and that can go well with pegging imo

He's getting his back blown out by the same person that's calling him all types of disrespectful names. It gets him going. Idk

Oop, bitch, I had an idea while typing

You and Tomas had a thing going on before all the betrayal shit happened. Now, that should've ended when you stuck by Bi-Han, and he by Kuai Liang but uhhhhh

As long as y'all aren't telling each other clan secrets, who is it hurting?

He's not sure when he'll see you again, so when he's getting pegged, it's filthy. Gotta make up for how much time you'll be apart

Sucking off the dildo, cum as lube, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, dirty talk, the list goes on and on

You both knew this was wrong, but why did something so wrong feel so good? If fucking Tomas was such a forbidden thing, then he shouldn't look so good while taking cock. Simple as that.

You had shoved your fingers in his mouth, muffling his moans and letting him taste his previous orgasm. An act that would disgust some, but not Tomas, who loved any and every act that made him feel as shameful as possible. You watched him through the mirror as he sucked on your fingers, one of his hands tweaking his nipple, before squeezing his breast. His hard cock swung with each hard thrust, precum leaking from his tip.

"It's a good thing I'm fucking you, and not the other way around. You don't even know how to use your cock" your fingers left his mouth, trailing spit down his body until your hand wrapped around him. "Such a nice cock given to someone who can't do shit with it"

Of course, Tomas knew you didn't mean it. He had fucked too many orgasms out of you to actually believe the harsh words you said. They still had an effect on him though, making his impending orgasm build and a whine come out. "Don't stop! Please!

"You think I plan on stopping anytime soon?" You scoffed, "not a chance. Need you to keep cumming until your balls are completely empty. And you're gonna enjoy every second of it, aren't you?" your tongue slid up his neck, the new feeling making his eyes roll back. "Tell me how much my little whore loves being fucked"

"I lo- hngh! Oh! Faster!". You landed a slap on his ass, his skin reddening immediately.

"Didn't I ask you to do something?

"Sorry! Shit!" he reached behind him, keeping your face near his neck, needing to feel you suck and bite at him. "I love being fucked by you!" he said in between whines, "feels so fucking good! Love being your little bitch and taking your dick when you want me to! I- ah! I'm so close! Please!".

There was no need to keep begging you.

You had no plans on stopping anyway.

Bi-Han and Tomas listening to Slut Me Out, meanwhile Kuai listening to Glue Song- I feel like I always write the least for him, BUT I SWEAR I LOVE HIM. I've been a Scorpion girly all my life, which is hard to believe based on my profile

Um, I think I'm finna delete all my requests cause when I tell y'all I got writers block for everything BUT smut, which says a lot about me as a person, but we move on. If y'all want me to do this again but with different characters and/or a different kink, feel free to send a lil request. But read my rules first cause if I see any piss, shit, or tentacle stuff, I'm shutting this bitch DOWN. And do not ask about Shao, Ermac or Quan Chi. I entertained y'all once and never again-

[margaritastation141]

"Rekindled" - John Price x Divorcee mom of teens

Chapter 1 summary: John wakes up to his car going off Masterlist ✖︎ Ao3 Read this fic on Ao3 (priority uploads/chapter 2 out now) Playlist

Felicity didn’t spend enough time at home, she knew it, admonished herself for it every morning as she left. It was clear when she looked at the time on the dashboard radio, 19:13 flashing in pale blue amongst the overbearing gloom inside her car—the sunset never quite reached inside the windows how she dreamed it should—and it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. Her new job was running her into the ground, and yet—with all this thoroughly considered—she still took a few minutes to sit in her car.

She turned engine off, the radio falling silent, the lights eventually snuffed themselves, and she just soaked in the quiet, guilt ridden and feet aching until the ants crawled under her skin once more and she finally took hold of her purse and ventured back into her life.

The moment the heel of her shoe touched the driveway; her phone began to ring.

Sam incoming call…

“Hey Effie—” instantly she knew he was calling to cancel. Something in his tone that plead for a forgiveness already undeserved.

“No, Sam, don’t give me that tone. Toby has been looking forward to seeing you all week—you promised!” she hissed into the phone, rubbing the space between her brows as she leaned back against her silver sedan, defeat wracking through her. “Come on, I—”

He cut her off, “some plans came up. Besides, you don’t have anything going on, do you?”

She scoffed, her face warming instantly as she deflected, “seriously?! What could possibly take priority over your children?”

“I’ve got a special weekend planned for Kim, taking her to the coast—remember the beach house we rented that summer?”

“Unbelievable—you are unbelievable, I can’t believe you actually had an answer,” she fumed, “you can’t even think of a new place to take her—and seriously? You two are still dating?”

“I’m going to propose this weekend.”

Felicity’s mouth dried up, her breath hitching, “you’re…you’re proposing at the beach house?”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t sound any more relaxed than he already did, meanwhile, Felicity’s stomach rolled, “real picturesque, y’know? That’s why I can’t take the boys—I mean, you understand,” he laughed, “gonna be a bit busy after dinner if you know what I—”

She hung up, dropping her phone into her purse before she snapped the damn thing in two.

Just as she locked her car, moving off of memory, she heard her neighbor rolling up—he was the only other person on the block who finished work this late it seemed.

Not that she actually finished at 7pm. It was just that her boss, Nathaniel Abbot, one of the top lawyers in the city Rosewood branched off of, kept requiring her to stay later and later to help him keep up with his paperwork, and it was already a half-hour commute to the office to begin with. Thankfully she got paid the overtime, but it was really cutting into her evenings—more importantly, it was straining her relationship with her eldest, Logan, always having to ask him to organize dinner for his younger siblings, help them with their homework if they dared to ask. And more and more, he was pulling away.

“Hey Felicity, you alright?” Johnathan Price; the neighbor, the captain of the local fire station, and the residential celebrity according to the high-school’s PTA group chat. Felicity just knew he was a talker.

She gave him a nod and a wave as he slowed to a stop at the end of her driveway, poking his head out of his window to squint up at her through the last of the sunset. “I’m fine, John, thanks. Busy shift?”

He huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his head, “certainly one way of puttin’ it. Time for a beer an’ a wine each, yeah?”

She spared him a laugh, her smile hardly reaching her eyes as she took a step back up her drive, “wine sounds good. You enjoy your beer,” she said, pointedly ignoring his ever-lingering stare before he finally pulled into his driveway just one fence away.

He’d always been a bit like that; taking any conversation he could with whatever friendly face he recognized; always easy exchanges, something friendly, something bordering flirtatious.

The minute long chats they had in the evenings were the highlights of her week that she couldn’t afford—so she always made sure to rip the plant out of the ground before the roots could spread—especially post-Sam. She could’ve sworn they’d ramped up since then, a festering growth turning a blind eye to her weed killer.

Realistically he probably just noticed the singular car in the driveway. Being overly friendly to the divorcee, right? Must be lonely after her high school sweetheart ditches her at the proverbial prom.

The quiet neighborhood was always a world away once she stepped foot inside her home. The TV was blasting some video game, music was trickling down the stairs from the bedrooms, something smelled burnt.

“Hey mom? Did you get more milk?!” Jackson called from the kitchen.

Shit, “no, sorry, did you send a text?” She started rifling through her bag for her damn phone again as she walked further into the house, leaving her shoes by the door.

“No,” he sighed, “I told you this morning. At breakfast?”

She looked up at him, blinking, “an entire day has passed since this morning, I can’t possibly remember everything off the top of my head. That’s why I tell you to text me,” she said, ruffling his hair as she passed him on the way to the fridge, taking a look for herself. Yikes, “write down what you need on the shopping list, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“I was really planning on a nice glass of milk though…”

“Jackson,” she raised a brow, “you are sixteen years old. If you so desperately want a glass of milk, please learn to drive.”

He pulled a face, stealing an apple from the fruit bowl instead before heading for the stairs.

“Toby?” she called, opening up the pizza box on the dining table to steal a slice—only half eaten, “have you had some dinner, baby?”

After a few seconds he managed out a “yeah, pizza or something,” before a loud explosion on the TV had him cursing.

Felicity meandered in the hallway for a moment before deciding to collapse on the couch beside him. Watching him play for a few minutes, her nose wrinkling at the excessive blood pouring out of a zombie’s stomach, “did I really pay for this?”

“No, Dad did. Ghoul For Brains 3. The graphics are pretty cool, but the bugs make it way better.”

She studied his profile, the concentrated furrow of his brow, the way he chewed his bottom lip as he leaned forward, “you know, there’s something really sweet about that, finding enjoyment in the—”

He pulled a face, looking back at her, “please don’t make this all gross and mom-ish.”

“Yeah okay,” she mumbled, sighing as she tore of a bite of her pizza slice.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Mom?” The living room was only illuminated by the overhead light the next time she opened her eyes, Toby nudging her awake, “fell asleep on the couch again.”

She gave a small laugh, sitting up, “just resting my eyes.”

“What time’s dad coming to get us tomorrow?”

Guilt bled behind her eyes like a blood-pact, concentrated, singular, something she should’ve fixed earlier. “You know, I was actually thinking that we could do some shopping for his birthday tomorrow instead—”

“He’s bailing, again? We were supposed to go fishing.”

Jesus, Sam. Fishing? That never went well.

“I know sweetheart, how about we go—”

“He’s always doing this,” he grumbled, steering himself upstairs to his room before she she could finish.

Just as she stood to head upstairs herself, Logan was barreling his way down, beelining for the front door, “going somewhere?”

He came to an abrupt halt right as his hand landed on the doorknob. “Out.”

“Really? For some reason I thought you were grounded—any clue why I’d think that?”

He shrugged, rolling his eyes.

The other two took after their father, but Logan had always looked the most like her; dark hair curling by his ears the longer he let it grow, brows that hardly kept an arch on the bend over his eyes, a softly defined nose, and a smile that used to melt butter. With time gone by his eyes had sharpened, glares cutting, fuzz thickening to patchy stubble, high cheekbones gathering shadows where there was once a plush softness like the photos lining the stairwell reminisced upon.

“You don’t remember coming home drunk at three in the morning last week? Logan, I thought someone had broken in! You are not going out tonight.”

“Trent’s already outside.”

“Good for him, he’s practicing his driving. But you know how I feel about him driving you around—especially to parties.” She did her best to stay firm, crossing her arms over her chest. “How many times do we need to have this conversation?”

“Give me a fucking break, it’s the weekend.”

She scoffed, “you have been on break. You don’t have a job, all you do is leave school early, go to parties, and complain when I care about you!” She called after him as he headed back upstairs, “forgive me for not wanting you to become an alcoholic at the age of eighteen!”

He finished the sentence for her with the slam of his bedroom door.

A hot, tight anger squeezed her throat, brimming in her eyes as she put her shoes back on, grabbing her cardigan off the rack by the door and heading out.

Trent was already winding down his window as she marched down the driveway, “hey Effie.”

“Don’t call me that. Are you going to this party tonight?”

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned.

“Well, you can go on then. Logan’s not joining you.”

“Aw, pretty please Miss Parker? Promise we’ll have him home by midnight,” Nick chimed in from the passenger seat, leaning over the center console to bat his lashes, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face too.

Her frown deepened, “no. No, no, no. It’s like you can’t hear the word, do you all just become deaf when it comes out of my mouth or what?”

“What?” Trent asked, rubbing his ear.

She could’ve sworn she felt her eye twitch. “Go home, the both of you—you must be made of alcohol by now—I’m serious, he’s not going out tonight. I’m locking the doors—he’ll sleep outside if you sneak him out.”

“Never drank a day in my life,” Nick scoffed, “wouldn’t dream of it Miss Parker.” Trent nodded solemnly and Felicity just about gave up.

“Go. Leave, now. I’ll wait.”

Trent’s grin finally faltered, “and leave you out here all alone?” Bunch of bloody smart-ass charmers.

“Hurry up or I’ll call your parents and the police.”

He sighed, glancing at Nick, “alright, Jesus, we’re going.”

“Thank you,” she said, “drive safe, okay?” taking a step back and watching them reverse out of her driveway, waiting another minute as they talked between themselves before driving off.

She sighed, dropping her face into her hands.

At the sound of a window closing, she parted her fingers, glancing up, then her eyes widened.

There stood John Price; in his bedroom on the second floor of his house, going around and drawing the curtains, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, entirely uncaring of who got a glimpse of the dusty blue fabric adorning the soft cut of his hips.

Blinking dumbly, Felicity came to a few conclusions.

He had tattoos—dark but faded, a mark etched deep like the crow’s feet scratched beside his eyes—on his left shoulder, low on his waist, peeking out from the hem of his shorts. From the ground she couldn’t make out a thing but the sudden intrigue—it made her hands fall away from her face.

He was so much…more than she’d thought. Bigger across his chest, wide and plush and strong like a bear incarnate. Hair covering him like he really was one, dark over his pecs, thick and sinful below his navel. Nearly took up the window all by himself.

And his eyes—oh they were so different after sundown. The watercolor indigo beneath his eyes made them darker than that pastel blue-grey they usually were. Especially when they fell on her, watching him from below all slack-jawed like some little girl at her first sighting of a painting twenty-times the size of her, full of incomprehensible detail that spanned beyond her dismal years.

John Price was no residential celebrity, nor station-captain extraordinaire—no, John Price was a god after dark, raising his brow at the woman shivering on the pavement below. Felicity dropped her gaze, watching the last of his curtains close in her peripheral, and headed back inside.

Wine. That glass of wine sounded brilliant right now.

But first, she toed off her shoes once again and climbed the stairs—bracing herself for whatever exploratory curses Logan had stored for her.

Her knuckled rapped softly against his door. “Logan? Baby can we talk?” she asked, voice quiet at the end of the hallway—the furthest he could get from her, it felt. “I know you want to party and spend time with your friends but—but exams are coming up and I know you care about your English grade more than you let on. I just…” she sighed, fingers drifting down to the door handle, an old batman sticker on the curve was nearly worn right into the metal. “I feel like I’ve been grasping at straws lately trying to figure out how to talk to you. You’re getting older now,” she huffed a laugh, thumbing the sticker fondly, “I know. And you don’t want to listen to your mom anymore,” a knot grew in her throat, “but I just want to see you succeed in life—get out of this town and do what you want with your life. If you told me what that was I could help maybe? I’ve found some job applications if you wanted to look through them, see where you want to start out. How does that sound?”

The silence was stark in the wake of her voice, voices and music drifting from the other bedrooms along the hall—behind equally closed doors.

“Logan?”

She wiped under her eyes, letting out an exhausted, shuddering breath.

“I’m opening the door now…”

But her eldest child was nowhere to be found, his bedroom window was pushed shut but the handles were still poking up—a rooftop escape.

• • •

Price woke in a daze to the sound of his car alarm going off—his curtains pulsing with light from his headlights as if there was a UFO waiting to beam him up just outside the window. Groaning he pressed himself up off the bed, eyes finding the red numbers on his alarm clock. 02:17 glared back at him. “Fucks sake.”

Abandoning the warmth of his bed he tugged on the grey longsleeve abandoned on his floor, fumbling through his drawers for his sweatpants before shoving his feet into his slippers and marching downstairs—his footsteps the drumbeat of war.

Snatching his keys from the dish on the entryway table, he wrenched the door open and unlocked the wailing vehicle—illuminating the culprits in the process.

“D’you know what time it is?!” He barked across the yard as the teens scrambled away from the back of his car and into their own—“got the wrong bloody house. Drivin’ into my car,” he grumbled under his breath, “oi!” he shouted as they began to back away, narrowly avoiding his mailbox in the process—curses and laughter bubbling out the window, “shouldn’t be drivin’ like—” but they’d pulled away from the curb with a screech and the pungent odor of burnt rubber, bass shuddering from the speakers as the taillights disappeared down the slope of the road. “Jesus fuckin’—”

Not all of them had fled yet.

“You’re Felicity’s kid,” he grunted, watching the dark-haired boy stared back at him wide-eyed and flushed from abandoned laughter, “does she know you’re out drinkin’ at bloody two in the mornin’?”

The light turned on upstairs in the house over the fence, a curtain pulled apart wide enough for a pair of eyes to peek through before someone was heading downstairs.

The boy cursed, clumsily wiping his face, noticing the same thing. “I wasn’t driving, y’know. And—” he sniffled, the cold nipping his pink tinged nose, “and I’m eighteen in January.”

“S’that supposed t’mean somethin’ to me?”

“Logan!” A woman cried, rushing out onto the sidewalk and rounding the fence.

Felicity Parker—formerly Felicity Wright as John was bitterly reminded whenever that shit-pile Samuel rolled up on the weekends for his kids—was wrapped up in a gown, boot-slippers scuffing the gravel of John’s driveway like they were coming home after collecting the mail, all flushed in the face, John’s porch light catching her puffy eyes.

Not from sleep but from crying, red-rimmed and splotchy pink on the highs of her cheeks.

“I told you—I told you; you weren’t allowed to go to that party,” she said, berating him while she pulled him into a hug—not letting him squirm out of it, more tears rolling down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, “but you don’t listen—you never listen to me!”

“Get off—” Logan groaned, agitated, pushing free and staggering a little from the force. “I don’t have to—”

John noticed the way she dipped her head as she wiped at her face with the already damp cuffs of her gown, tucking her hair behind her ear as she crossed her arms, pulling her gown a little snugger, “apologize to Mr. Price—apologize Logan, you’ve woken him up—maybe half the neighborhood—”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” the boy tossed out in no general direction, pulling away from his mother’s grasp and meandering back to his house, finding no difficulty in going through the left open door.

Felicity stared after him, looking both mortified and utterly wiped. “Oh, John, your car,” she breathed, turning, seeing the sizable dent in his rear bumper, “I’ll—I’ll pay you back, I’m so sorry, I don’t know—” she hiccupped, fatigue stealing away any embarrassment, reaching for the pendant lying just below the hollow of her throat, “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

John found that—when it came to Felicity—he had an innate ability to stop thinking. Not when he noticed her staring up at him near-naked, gawking like a fish, and not when he pulled her into his arms, tucking her head in against his chest, splaying a hand between her shoulder blades as she cried, clinging to him immediately as if this wasn’t the first hug they’d ever exchanged. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he murmured into her hair, admitting that last finger of whiskey might still be kicking round somewhere in his gut, “got enough on your plate, don’t you? Just runnin’ round like a headless chicken these days, hm?”

She nodded absentmindedly into his chest, and he fought hard to keep the beat of his heart steady, clenching it in his fist tight before it got out of control like it often did around her. “I can’t keep up with them anymore,” she sniffled, rubbing at her face some more in the circle of his arms, “m’out of my depth.”

“Woah now, admittin’ defeat Effie? That’s not like you,” he said, pulling back to catch her face, nudging her chin up with a daring knuckle.

Her bottom lip trembled as she looked anywhere but at him, “I’m failing them—I s-swear I used to be a good mother and—and then Sam and I had that rough patch and I just…I can’t.”

“Take a deep breath for me sweetheart,” he suddenly prompted, taking her smooth, soft hand and pressing it flat between his pecs, taking a deep breath, “slow and steady.”

Still looking away, she sucked in a deep breath, exhaling, and repeating along with him for the next one until the tremble in her hand wasn’t so prominent. But she stayed quiet, the fight knocked out of her, those warm eyes of hers stuck to the ground like he wasn’t right there.

“I don’t…have kids of my own,” he said, dragging words out of some unseen pit in his chest, “but I’ve seen ‘em come an’ go through the station all my twenty-bloody-years there. All sorts. This current batch, they’re a good crew, my friends—but they were difficult to get together at the start, butting heads, second guessing me and each other. It was weird, my worst group by far—”

“This is not encouraging,” she mumbled, huffing a sigh.

“But,” he smiled, catching her skittish glance up at him at the word, “they came together. Took a bit of tough love—majority of the work they figured out themselves—but they’re my best crew I’ve ever had now.”

She tucked some hair behind her ear, “are they the ones you have around all the time?”

“That’s them alright.”

A small laugh escaped her, “bit loud, couldn’t imagine what it was like when they were arguing.”

He grinned properly, “that’s why I’ve got an office, can just close the door if they’re at it again.”

“…d’you think Logan will be okay?”

He reached up, scratching the back of his head, “I can recognize pieces of him in the guys I’ve known, he’s angry Effie, upset maybe with himself. I can’t make any promises off my theories.”

She looked away again and it was like losing the sun.

“But I could see what I can do for him—”

“Really?” her eyes were bright, back on him, clouds parting.

“Of course, he’s gotta work off this dent somehow, don’t he?”

[melodic-haze]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino (GI) x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Pet play, using a hidden vibrator in public, reader with a cock/strap referred to as the former, ROUGH sex, spanking, a lot of painplay actually, blood cuz have you?? Seen her nails????? What the hell, overstimulation, dumbification 🫶

☆ — NOTES: I haven't actually played Genshin since the eternal Ayaka timer lol but anyway I got carried away I think LMAOOO I just have a huge thing for authority figures who are all subby for me 😞 I might do an aftercare continuation post idk

☆ — PARTS: Part 1 (you are here), Part 2, Part 3

I really need to put a collar on this woman and call her my personal attack dog

This tall, scary woman who wields a SCYTHE, this Harbinger slash one winged fallen angel with crosses for eyes, this person who people call 'Father'???? Imposing as hell, very much the type that you can't look at in the eyes or else you're probably marked for death next.......but who could EVER expect that all that would go off and crumble down at the mere sight of you with a collar on your hand, a smile on your face and the intent to reduce her into nothing but your personal little pet?

Intimidating? Oh, please. Maybe she'd cut everyone else, but she wouldn't dare do that to you! Not even when she has a vibrator stuffed in her pussy. What's she gonna do realistically, hurt you? Oh no no no she wouldn't dare do that, you've done nothing wrong, could NEVER do anything wrong so whyever would she do that to you?

You've always wondered how Arlecchino could ever balance on those shoes of hers, with the way her heels narrow down into practically nothing by the time its length reaches the ground.

It's an impressive feat, being able to balance on such technically impractical footwear.. especially when the wearer has a small vibrator stuffed in her cunt, controlled by none other than you and the equally small device resting in your pocket, ready for you to use when you felt like it.

And you did exactly that—as the Harbinger went to talk to some person about whatever it is (you never really cared about the current semantics), you dug into your pocket idly, innocently, even, but the both of you know full well that it was anything but.

Despite Arlecchino keeping a straight face, you know the effect was immediate; you could tell from the slight stumble and the quite-literal split-second glitch that you miss when you blink. Unfortunately for her, though, the third-party hadn't blinked so she's left to scramble for an excuse as you watch on nearby, utterly delighted.

Eventually you see her excuse herself early, making it appear as if whatever they were discussing didn't seem to work. And who would ever question Arlecchino, of all people?

You.

"Well, now," you begin with a raised eyebrow as you watched your approaching lover approach you with a surprising amount of grace, wondering how she's kept herself steady with those heels of hers, "I thought you were going to take longer. What happened?"

You see her eyes stare at you, the red crosses within them practically burning so bright it's as if you were so close that you could touch the sun and burn... Though instead of looking away like a normal person with a sense of self-preservation, you dared to flash her an innocent smile as if you were utterly clueless, but both of you knew VERY well that that was, simply put, pure and utter bullshit.

She licks her lips before answering, "I have.. rescheduled for the discussion to continue when his pr-- ..proposal has been polished to the standard I require. We can return to-- ..!"

Her breath hitches, and she moves on to sit down swiftly and cross her legs in a futile effort to keep the toy still within her, though that turns out to be a mistake as you increase the intensity even further. Her mouth practically drops open before she looks down and covers her mouth as she grabs onto your wrist, nails digging and causing you to wince, though it doesn't keep the smug look on your face from increasing.

You narrow your eyes, as if utterly unimpressed by her antics, as you speak only for your lover to hear, "Flaking on your responsibilities just for you to get some relief sooner rather than later? Okay, then." And she hears, sees you laugh, and you both know that she knows she's crossed you, "Let's go home."

The only thing your pet Harbinger could really do was nod.

She need need NEEDS to be treated roughly for her to feel things bc tbh she probably has a high FEELING threshold in general. And like she's insane but that's another thing

Pull on her collar, her leash. Actually no pull on her HAIR there's a reason why she has it in a low tail 🤨🤨 pull it use it to direct her where you want her and she'll do whatever it is you require for her to do

Please do absolutely spank her, put her in her place, urge her on. Pain is a great stimulant, and is a great teacher 🫶

Needs she NEEDS you to hold her up as you pound at her without stopping, vibrator still in her cunt and being pushed deeper into her over and over by your cock and she doesn't tell you to stop either bc she's telling you to give her more, please!!

This deadly woman is asking you, pleading you, begging you for you to absolutely ruin her!!! But nonono you can't let her have what she wants when she's been uncharacteristically not doing her job like she's meant to so you pull out of her and immediately turn off the toy inside her and she looks at you with such shock that it's so strange to see on this ever-so-composed-and-strict member of the Fatui. But at the end you don't really care as you start up the whole process again after waiting for long enough, even switching your positions and paces and everything

Once you deem it enough and that she's basically at her limit, you decide to grant her.. mercy. Fuck her until she cums and she cums HARD, her nails reducing the sheets into damaged tatters of fabric and leaving bloody claw marks and bites on your skin as she writhes and twitches and glitches violently (you'll take care of it later, you reckon, but right now do you really care?) before she settles down.......

But you don't stop. Nononono you don't stop not at all!! This IS what she wanted, right??? Being fucked so hard until she's all dumb and forgets everything she has to keep track of in that brain of hers, make her forget that she's supposed to be this scaryyy Harbinger who could kill you in the blink of an eye, reduce her into nothing but your obedient little puppy desperate for a powerless mortal, of all things. That has to be humiliating, it SHOULD be humiliating when she has all that power, but she doesn't care. Not now, not ever.

Not when it's you :33

[laswells-ashtray]

I am sad because I have a cold and pictured a COD couples game night to cheer myself up.

Allow me to share my vision

- Sarah knows how to make the most amazing drinks, always pours them however strong is required. Is an absolute menace for a good sugar rimmed glass and making drinks look either radioactive or like potions.

-Kate is the taster of both drinks and special treats. If Kate gets a bit confused by whatever a 'buttery nipple' is and has her face in her wife's tits, do not disturb her - that's where she's meant to be.

- Nik brings games, he travels a lot so I think it would be fun if he had a little collection of both sfw/NSFW games to bring along. It usually ends with Sarah and Kate vanishing into the void to "have a smoke" while Nikprice and Alerudy pull out those slutty card games.

- Price holds the accessories. Lighters, hair ties, chargers, snacks, the man's a walking pharmacy and vending machine because when the games start, nobody can be trusted to not toddle off into the dark looking for something.

-Alerudy brings the food, sweet and savoury for all preferences. They know everyone's favourite drunk order and comfort food and either bring it, make it, or have it pre ordered on the food delivery app. They like to get those aphrodisiac chocolates and share them (consensually) with the others.

Sarah pours like a friend of mine, where she does not measure i,t and you're wasted three drinks in. She knows this and will not change. No one dares to try and stop her because her drinks make it all the more fun.

Kate with Sarah also reminds me of the above mentioned friend because she's likely to just plant her hands on Sarah's tits whenever they're drinking. Will hold an entire conversation with someone while holding onto Sarah's left tit and just thumbing at her nipple piercings.

Nikolai with the NSFW card games is genuinely the most in-character thing I think anyone has ever said about the man. He pulls one that says, "Name the last position you had sex in." and then accidentally gets it wrong and thus has to accept the punishment written on the back of the card. "Let the player to your left spit their drink in your mouth." And if Nikolai seems excited to let Rudy spit a mouthful of mojito in his mouth, then that's his business.

John hands out hairties the minute he sees Sarah's face flush because he knows that she and Kate can only last so long while drinking before the heat gets to them and their hair starts to piss them off. Kate will pull out strands if she gets frustrated with trying to put her hair up while drunk. He keeps plasters on him because on the four occasions he has gotten drunk with Alejandro, the man has burst open the skin on at least one finger every time. He has salted cashews for Nik because Nik craves savoury foods when drunk. And he always carries an extra lighter because Rudy loses his every two minutes when he has a drink in his system.

An hour into their game night, Rudy pre-orders food from a local takeout to be delivered at midnight. Fries and salt for Nikolai. Doner kebab for John, he will let it get cold before he eats it. Kate wants fried chicken and gravy, will get it all over her hands. She doesn't care. Sarah's order will always remain the same: garlic chilli chicken mayo with a side of ranch. No one else likes it, but it's her choice. Rudy is ordering a large portion of onion rings because Alejandro will take half of them without asking.

When they break out the chocolates, Kate and Sarah disappear and very loud Billy Idol echoes from their room to cover any noise they make.

AleRudy and NikPrice? Nikolai had an even dirtier card game that he'd been waiting to whip out, and they're set.

[bleedingichorhearts]

Hello Ichor

I saw your requests are open and Wh40k is on the list, so can I request a yandere!Emperor of mankind x reader with SMUT?

The plot is reader is a qualified mercenary and busy doing her mercenary stuff. She met Big E (not knowing it was him) and impressed very much so he decided to take her with him. The reader wasn’t pleased and tried to do what she could do to get the Emperor off her back…but didn’t reach success)

“Hello Anon! It seems the Yandere!Emperor has made a few of you… worship him unintentionally like with his son…” - Ichor

Summary - “Being a skilled mercenary means you would have some unusual employers… You didn’t think it would include a huge red flag covered in gold.”

||Taglist has been moved to the bottom for a more organized look, and so people don’t have to scroll a mile just to see any writing.||

||Words: 1.4k||TW// Yandere, Entrapment, Smut, Noncon/Dubcon Fingering(I do not condone these actions.)

“You sicken me.” You lowly growl your words at him. Eyes narrowed at him from where you stand: high above and away from his grasp. You weren’t a fool to be so close to a figure of ultimate power like him. A proclaimed god; an Emperor. “You tricked me.”

However, you have been a fool not to realize the mask’s he wears.

You have this Emperor on… “common grounds” you would like to say, but considering you were on the job, taking care of things that your job required? It was more or less on enemy grounds, and he was in the way. In front of your target; talking to them as if this person didn’t cause atrocities that would have an hit on their back.

This target of yours has done the common thing: Pissed off a higher power. Something that not many would want to ever do, or even dare to do, and yet here’s your target. Wanted for foul words and… unholy actions upon young with the price of his head being quite a generous mount for such an easy kill. Well, besides the damn Emperor in your way, or at that time he called himself “Hercules.” A name you did hear upon history…

Besides positively feeling he was giving you a fake name. You usually don’t take missions from the rich, you didn’t like the dance between them and how they hold themselves above, but there are some poor that can be just as evil as them. All because they might not have lived correctly. A saddening reason, honestly.

“Tricked you?” The golden titan below you looks up at you with a blank, eerie stare. His eyes softly glowing with hidden mysteries and power. “You came to me willingly, little one.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” You dare to curse, your eyebrows coming together in anger. Your hand tightening into a fist around your bladed weapon. “You manipulated me, made me trust you despite my refusal to do so.”

“Did I now?” He just hums at you, tilting his head as his hair falls from his shoulder. “Should I remind you of your times together? Or will I have to remind you.”

You would have winced at his words, but you didn’t want to lose your pride in front of this… asshole. He didn’t deserve it, but his simple words do remind you of the times you did have together. Only because you didn’t know the man was the Emperor despite your gut churning tightly inside of you, but it also fluttered for a moment too. Your heart being slowly charmed by this man’s persistence until he showed his true colors.

“Really?” You scoff, shifting your weight. Pointing at him with your weapon. “We only had our moments because you made it so, not I.”

“It takes one and some dedication to start something, no?” He smiles up at you, all full of false disgusting charm. You might even have preferred Nurgle right there instead of a man. You hear how well the followers are…

You would have winced at his words again though. He was always finding a way to contradict you by the smallest amount. It almost felt degrading, like he was nit picking at everything you have done and turning it against you like some drama filled family.

“One has to reciprocate the feeling.” You retort, folding your arms in a way where you can still have your weapon in your hand. “I did not.”

“Hmm, but you did.” The fucker almost sings, you can hear it in his tone, and you swear to god (not him) that you find a way to kill this man over and over. “You cried out to me, raked those little claws of yours at my back while I stuffed you full of me.”

You blink at his words, a bit surprised by his boldness to even voice such actions out before an embarrassed blush over comes you. You head moving to look away from this bastard. “You tricked me.”

“No, I courted you.” He rumbles lowly, finally moving from his spot and suddenly appearing right besides you. Your arms unfolding as you stumble back while you look up at his towering figure. Your thoughts breifly wondering how you even took this guy. “And you, little one? Fell for it.”

“Did not.” You argue quickly, without thinking. The hairs on the back of your neck standing up while you continue to take steps backs away from him while he advances. “I never accepted anything from you.”

“Oh, but you did.” He sighs, almost groans. The top of his body curling down to your height to quickly grasp at your neck. His touch surprisingly gentle with how he was portraying himself at the moment: imitating, dangerous. A grunt leaving you as you found yourself back against one of the many walls this being keeps you trapped in. “You took me.”

"Taking your cock doesn't mean shit." You spit at him. Glaring up at him even if he had the advantage on you. His face wincing slightly back. "If anything, that was a one-night stand."

"Foul woman." He sighs before tightening his hand on your neck, restricting some of your air flow. His turn to down glower down upon you. "You hurt me with your words."

"Bullshit, you don't have any feelings." You call him out, not even knowing if he had any or not but your mind thinks so. Your neck going under a bit of strain by his hand, but you will not oppose to his pleasure. "You're not even human. You don't deserve the title of "Emperor of Mankind.""

He gives you a sudden huff of a laugh, his form coming in closer as he painfully makes you look up at him. His breath painting your cheek as his eyes seem glow a bit more brightly. "You have no idea, little one-"

"I don't want to have an idea." You cut him off, testing his patience. The room feeling like it has gotten incredibly cold as this man snarls at you before coming forward to thrust is tongue into your mouth. His actions forceful, exploring your mouth anyway he likes while his other hand comes down to wrap around your waist a pick you off the ground.

“I’m going to break you, little one.” He growls into your lips rather calmly for a being that is angry. One of your hands having to brace yourself on his shoulders while the other hand with your weapon rises high above. His own strength hauling you up more upon him with ease. Stealing everything he can from you, the oxygen in your lungs included. “Then, you would have no other objections to spare.”

“You’re a cunt.” You manage to breath out, sacrificing you own air and energy to the man in order to try and get an hit on him as your thrust your armed hand down. “Gah!”

He makes you fall backwards onto a silky bed, making you miss your hit as his hands roam. Going from your waist and all the way up to your torso and to your armed hand. One of his hands wrapping around your wrist to keep such dangerous object out of the way, and to keep you pinned in place. The other hand? Sneaks under your waist line, sliding quickly over your folds and teasing you.

“Such a violent woman you are…” He purrs, his body looming over you, casting a shadow. His eyes watching every twitch of skin that betrays you. Upping the game by sliding his middle finger inside of you, making you still and gasp out for a second. “…All the more intriguing.”

He moves the finger inside of you, curling it in all the best places. Carefully watching you every single time you whither and groan out to his stoic amusement. His actions being particularly hard when you try and reject him.

"F-fuck you." You moan out, your body arching in unwilling pleasure. His hand around your armed hand tightening while his fingers go deep inside of you, making sure you are feeling him in any way. "Y-You are no g-god."

"Hmm." He hums at you, leaning down closer to you before giving you a chuckle. The sound masculine and seductive. His lips too close to your neck for your liking. His finger hitting just right inside of you where you gasp near his ear. "That's right, I am not."

“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000, @passionofthesith, @insanity6666.”

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 9

| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 2.9k

Previous | Next

Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO

The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now. 

And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed. 

“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared. 

And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump. 

Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.” 

“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.” 

There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.” 

Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.

An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again. 

Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?” 

“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…” 

Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”

“Jungkook I wasn’t-”

“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself. 

It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.” 

You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.” 

Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.” 

Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!” 

“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.” 

You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?” 

Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”

“Y/n I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.” 

Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?” 

It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking. 

You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache. 

“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”

“Until…?” 

“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.” 

You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”

“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information. 

You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?” 

There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.” 

Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered. 

It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing. 

“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.” 

You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.” 

“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. 

Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?” 

“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.” 

Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”

Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”

You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.” 

“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.” 

You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”

“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared. 

Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait. 

You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him. 

His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever. 

But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever. 

But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person. 

“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.” 

You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.” 

You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”

“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!” 

“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”

“You were never a fling to me-”

“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both. 

“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything. 

You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time. 

But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension. 

Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”

You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”

It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?” 

You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest. 

Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.” 

“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”

“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”

You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.” 

Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.” 

[art4hhart]

୨୧ be cautious part one

— 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚗

contains: angst, comfort, arguing, heavy tension, anxiety, detailed fighting (tw; blood), overprotective pan for context: in this story henry was brought to neverland by pan's shadow, and doesn't have the heart of the truest believer. pan needs his family's help to make a potion, one that will make henry forget—and hate them, making him believe they are the evil ones so he can be a lost boy. pan and you threaten them with henry's life if they don't do what he says (in this story you are kind of evil too, henry or his family doesn't end up being dead, just pretend it's not all of his family coming to get him). during all this you and pan have some issues that need to be fixed when you think he's too protective. // i know it might seem long before pan shows up but trust me, it's worth it // some of the lines i took directly from the episode, i thought that would make it more realistic

part two here!!

wordcount: 4.6k masterlist

·˚ you moved quickly trough the thick green plants surrounding all around you, passing various plants and seeing a few that looked an awfully lot like dream shade.

to continue, you had to cut them off harshly with the sword in your right hand; the one pan let you borrow only whenever he thought there was great danger on the island. after all, the sword was his.

you let out a grunt of frustration while piercing off the poisonous branches; why was this taking so long? sometimes you wished the island was a little smaller, but that was not something you should be thinking about at this moment.

pan clearly instructed you this morning you had to physically prepare for today. he knew how much of your energy this was gonna take, and you regretted not listening to him. you did in some sort of way execute his order by letting him teach you a bit of his magic, but you now understood that was not enough.

being in a good and strong condition was very required right now.

and it's not like you didn't have enough time to practice today, you had plenty of it. but you were too busy with everyone talking to you about the new kid henry, and since you've been pan's girl for a while you're in charge of a few things.

including this.

"shit." you cursed under your breath, struggling to hold the heavy weapon as you almost dropped it. the indistinct chatter you'd heard for a few minutes now became more intense, obvious arguing.

you turned around to get a quick glimpse trough the bushes, trying to get your messy hair out of your face despite the fact you put it in a bun. while hiding, you managed to perform the magic act pan taught you by moving your fingers around. the three grown women you saw were rapidly pushed against a tree; trying to strangle themselves out of the thick green strings tightening around them.

the blonde one in the middle caught your attention. that must be henry's mother.

obviously pan had told you hours before, he had seen them yesterday and told you everything when you came to his hut last night. you came walking towards them from behind all the plants, and their expressions changed from frustrated to terrified, especially when they saw the sword in your hand.

your steps were slow, only making them more scared as you played with the weapon you were holding.

"who are you...?" the woman with black hair up to her shoulders dared to ask you. her eyes were piercing trough yours, as if trying to find out who you are by looking into them. you ignored her question, taking a step closer to them.

"pan is giving you a choice—"

"you work for pan?" the same woman interrupted you, clearly judging you.

"not exactly." you stated. "—as i was saying, pan is giving you a choice. either you do cooperate with us or you won't see henry ever again."

their eyes flashed with anger towards you, wanting nothing more than to punch you in the face. you were quite aware of it, but even more reason to get nearer. if there was one thing pan taught you, it was to never show any fear.

"we will never work together with any of you." the blonde spoke up hastily, and you noticed that the others immediately agreed with her.

you let out a chuckle. "emma, i'm assuming you want to see your son again?" you tilted your head, stepping closer to her. she looked at you confused mixed with anger, she was probably wondering how you knew her name.

"i'm not stupid, you know." you exclaimed. "pan is not gonna tolerate this. you know how he gets when someone disobeys him."

the bitchy woman on the left tried getting her hands closer to you to nick your sword, but you quickly shifted it away from her, turning it around and pressing it against her throat.

she blinked fast a few times at your sudden movement. "there's no way you've never broken a rule of his." she scoffed, barely impressed by your skills.

"i haven't. considering there aren't that many." you said fierce, pressing the sword harder. "as i said, i'm not stupid enough like you to disobey him."

"but you said he was giving us a choice?" the woman on the right with short hair said irritated. you turned your head around to look at her, a grin planted on your face.

"i know." you shrugged.

"how's that fair?" she stated loudly but you ignored her question.

you scoff, taking one small step back to look at the three women. "if you don't do as i say, i'm afraid he'll have to punish all of you. let's start with your favorite boy." they all looked at you petrified.

"who the hell are you." the woman you still had your sword pressed against gritted trough her teeth at you. you saw how desperate she was for answers, because you knew that when they got trapped against the tree, they expected pan to come out again and threaten them instead of a girl.

"i'm a lost girl, isn't that obvious?" you chuckled, looking right in her eyes to get some reaction out of her. yet, she didn't give any. it was beginning to scare you a bit, who isn't scared when they get a weapon pressed against their throat?

"you're lying. hook told us the lost boys don't have the power to do this, whatever it is you're doing. and he never mentioned any lost girl." emma exclaimed.

"then you can tell him that you know he's been lying to you, if you ever get off the island alive." you bragged. you arched your eyebrows at the blonde, feeling proud of your own words when the woman's foot in front of you touched your tibia harshly and you hissed in pain slightly. you quickly pressed the sword harder against her throat.

"he’s on the island with us, little girl." she proceeded to threaten you.

"i don’t give a shit where that man is, to hell with that pirate. i assume you do know i’m at least a 100 years older than all of you, right? don't underestimate me." you chuckled lowly at her so—called offensive comment. "and you can call me a liar, regina, but i know your past and so does pan. we know more than you all think."

she gasped out a breath at the mention of her own name, but when you pressed the sword harder she reached her hand out forward, and before you could block her magic you were sent flying backwards onto the hard ground.

you groaned as you sat up straight, a stinging and sharp pain rushing from your arm through your body. you looked down; hissing as you realized your sword had sliced the skin when her magic got ahold of you, blood running down your arm from the deep cut it had made. the sword was laying next to you, drops of fresh blood resting on the side.

you looked her dead in the eyes.

"you have no idea how much trouble you're in now, evil queen."

you brought your feet up again, not knowing what your next move would be when again, you got off-guard by regina moving her hand around in the air to aim a fireball directly at you. "regina stop." the short-haired woman demanded her.

little did she know you too had some strong magic in you.

"i told you—" you quickly held up your hand, blocking the fireball and it turning back rapidly towards her own body. "—don't underestimate me." her eyes widened at the sight of you turning her own magic back to her and a grin planted on your face; you already knew she was not expecting this.

"you're only making it worse regina!" emma warned aggressively, reaching her hands out towards her as regina moved her head away, and the fireball blasted with full-speed against the tree, making it vibrate slightly. she gritted trough her teeth, her eyes darkening as you kept that direct and fearless gaze, despite your hurting arm. "we will not let you take henry from us!"

you hastily mocked her with an sinister chuckle as a rustling sound behind the trees all caught your attention, and a low, fierce voice immediately started speaking.

"are you still at it?" you smiled at the sound of his voice. powerful, but soft—spoken whenever you were alone with him.

"don't you know? peter pan never fails." as soon as he looked at you, a smile planted on his face, walking towards you. he looked down, but he noticed his sword was laying on the ground. and that's when he saw the cut on your arm.

he immediately got closer with a raging expression and reached out his hand to heal the wound, swiping it in the air just above the skin. his tall form towered over you and for a moment it felt like it was only you and him standing there.

"you okay?" he asked with concern, looking deeply into your eyes.

"i'm fine, peter." you showed him a smile, a slight blush creeping on your face from the way he stared at you. he looked at your arm again, checking for any more injuries. "you sure?"

"yes." you quickly said back, slightly annoyed. slowly, he turned his body around, his gaze fixated upon the women tied to the tree. his eyes darkened at them, he did not tolerate it if anyone touched his girl.

"you've already disobeyed my rules.." he began explaining. "—but you managed to hurt her..." there was a short silence. "so i have to punish you."

pan picked up his sword from the dirty ground, the same one that sliced your skin and walked right up to them, his expression cold and furious. "she said you gave us a choice." regina snapped angrily. "we have a right to make one."

"oh but you already did." he let out a chuckle as he carefully brought the tip of the weapon under her chin, and she looked more frightened when he threatened her compared to you. "i knew you'd never want to cooperate. but it's not too late to change your mind, you know. if you want to see your boy again, i'm afraid you'll have listen to me." he explained with a noticeable smirk.

"there has to be another way..." emma spoke quietly, still trying to writhe herself out from the plants that strangled her tightly. pan took a few strong steps away from regina, coming to stand next you and face all three of them just like you were.

"yeah, you're not going to get to me. this is the only choice i'm offering you. you'll never see his face again if you disobey." he paced around, waiting for an answer.

"what exactly do you want with us?"

"regina don't—"

pan cut the short-haired woman's sentence off. "—well i'm glad you asked." he faked a smile. "we will need your help for very specific quest." he was always so mysterious, that's what you liked about him. but apparently they didn't, because regina let out a impatient sigh, rolling her eyes at pan.

"but why do you need ours?"

"because you're the only ones that can help us." pan explained quickly.

"they're tricking us, regina." the short-haired woman warned, wringing her hands to try and get herself out from the strong plants.

"it's our only chance!" regina snapped, turning her head around towards her direction, even though they could barely see each other because of the tree they were strangled against.

you took a small step forward with an amusing look. "pan may be evil, but he never breaks his promises." regina let out a disagreeing sigh, but you knew better. you've known him for so long, and never once has he broken a promise. "you will see henry again if you do as we say."

the next few minutes you and pan watched them thoroughly as they practically argued with each other. you enjoyed watching the scene unfold, when pan leaned into your side to whisper something to you. "i knew you could do it, i'm really proud of you." a smile planted on his face while he stared at you. "mhm?" you questioned, not quite understanding as you ignored him. you would be lying if you said you weren't a bit angry at him.

"the magic thing with the tree, that i taught you." he discreetly pointed at the still-arguing women facing both of you, as you turned your head around to look at him. "ohh right." you nodded, not really paying attention when you suddenly got flustered by his green eyes staring into you deeply.

he laughed nervously, immediately thinking he said something wrong because of your dry reaction towards him. "did i say something wrong...?" he asked you, his gaze towards you deepened and you got flustered again, not being able to think what to say back.

"no, i just— i didn't hear—" you looked away from him, trying to stop being so damn nervous around him.

you chuckled. "i mean— your eyes.." you didn't even know why you just said that. your hands started fidgeting and you had already forgotten what was happening at the tree next to you, but the women were still arguing about the situation. they probably didn't even notice what you and pan were doing, they were too busy talking to each other.

"my eyes?" he laughed.

"yeah— they're so green..." you cringed at yourself, even after all these years, he still managed to make you so so nervous. you silently coughed away a nervous chuckle, as you let out a sigh from the heat you were feeling in your whole body.

"you're blushing." he said bluntly.

"i am?" you said awkwardly, when he suddenly lifted your chin and forced you to look into his eyes again.

"you don't have to be so nervous, love. it's just me."

you wanted to actually scream, moments like this made you even fall in love with him more. you couldn't think of a response, so again, you just laughed nervously. "i know." you shifted your face away from him, letting out a obvious sigh.

"you know that—" he began.

"just— let's finish this conversation later, okay? shouldn't you be focusing on them?" you nodded your head towards the three woman you had trapped, cutting his sentence off.

"right." he kept his gaze on you, that grin on his face faded when you basically told him to shut up. but whatever, he knew you were right. you couldn't just make-out or something while they were present right in front of you, even though he so badly wanted to kiss you until your lips were numb.

he turned around, and silence fell when he began speaking.

"having trouble communicating i see? i’d suggest you listen to what we have to say." he paced around, fixing his gaze on particularly regina, because he knew she had more magic than the others. "as you know, there is something i'd like you to do. there is someone i need to destroy, an enemy of mine. someone that could even affect your boy."

he always keeps his promises, but this doesn't mean he never lies.

"we don't—" emma tried to interrupt. she probably though they were gonna have to go after someone.

"will you just listen? or do i have to kill your boy on the spot?" he laughed at them, and their eyes widened.

their anger towards him was so great, and you knew that if they would be able to get out the tightening plants, it wouldn't end well and eventually attack the both of you. but that's not what you were worried about. no, you were worried they'd found out what you were really planning to do before they finish their job.

making henry forget who they are, so he can be a lost boy in peace.

"i just need you to get—" he swiftly put his hand in his vest, revealing a small, wrinkled paper. "these things, so i can start working on a specific drink."

"wait. this could be a trick." mary, the short—haired woman held up her hand.

"and why would i do that? we both benefit something from it." he grinned, stepping closer to show the paper to them. "i know about your superpower, savior. tell me when i'm lying." he looked at her, and she clearly try to focus to see if he's actually telling the truth, furrowing her eyebrows.

"why don't you do it yourself? you know the whole damn island." regina said quickly, her gaze shifted towards the paper that pan was holding up, as well as mary and emma. he laughed at them, and regina quickly snatched pan's list out his hand to look at it carefully.

"oh no, no. that wouldn't be fun now would it?" he continued, and didn't seem to mind that his paper got ripped out his hands. "i don't have time for everything, you see. i'd say you're all smart women, it wouldn’t be difficult for you to get these things. if you want to see henry again, you will have to work for it." he took a step closer to you, away from them to give them time to read the paper.

just as pan turned to you, regina's eyes widened when she saw what was written on the paper; you already knew what she was going to say. "why do you need hair locks from each of us..?" she looked up at pan suspiciously, trying to figure out if he really was telling the truth.

this time you decided to answer them, stepping forward to look them in the eye.

"you're all very brave..." you began. "two of you have strong magical powers, and that will make the tincture more efficient. we realize how much trouble you have gone trough to get to henry, that alone costs a lot of strength. we need your dna to defeat this enemy." you grabbed the sword from the ground, pointing it in their direction.

"but if you refuse, who knows what will happen to henry?" you explained, even though deep down you knew you'd never hurt a child like henry unless refusal.

"just let us out first." regina gritted through her teeth, angrily.

"i'm sorry, am i supposed to be scared of you?" you laughed, lowering the sword. you looked behind you at pan, as he walked towards you. he quickly whispered something that the others couldn't hear, and you nodded.

"alright, we'll let you out."

you gestured your head towards pan, letting him know to be prepared as he returned the same movement to you. the women in front of you looked confused and curious, wanting to know what you just discussed with him.

and just like before in the bushes, you focused your mind and moved your fingers around in the air, as the green vines encircling them very slowly started to disappear. they immediately stepped forward towards you, but you weren't surprised at that.

before emma or regina could use magic on you, pan did the same with his hands, only he waved his hands in some sort of arc through the air. this all went too quick for them, since confusion spread on their face when an entire transparent bubble wrapped around them, preventing them to leave or attack. "what—"

regina was, of course, the first to try using her own magic to break the enclosed space, but she didn't know that whatever she'd try, it will turn back to her, or the others that were standing beside.

pan laughed when she got ready to aim something at the edge. "i wouldn't do that if i were you. in there, all magic will turn itself back to where it comes from." pan explained, as regina's eyes darkened at his smirking face. "unless, you want to get yourself hurt."

"this isn’t fair. you said you’d let us out."

he chuckled. "we did. i'll remove it once you promise to get me what i want."

after a while, you and pan managed to get them to cut each a lock of their own hair, and with some serious threats ("if you try anything, you know who'll get hurt ;)"), he removed the bubble and none of them dared to attack, even though they so badly wanted too. all for the sake of their precious boy.

he put the locks somewhere safe under his vest, and stepped beside you again. he looked them in the eyes, making sure they still weren’t stupid enough to attack.

"i'll need all things from the list i gave you by tomorrow morning. meet us here at eight sharp." he told them, and just when they thought he was done, he continued. "but, only emma can come."

"no—"

pan immediately tilted his head as a warning, they knew better than to disagree with him. "only. emma." he repeated slowly, to make sure they knew not to go against his statement. he folded his arms as a sign of dominance, a chuckle escaping his mouth, one that made your stomach flutter.

"good, don't be late." he said at last, waving his hand in the direction they needed to go before you and him watched the women carefully walk away farther into the island, scared that even their steps were a threat to him.

you let out a sigh, your head aching.

your head shot up. "wait— did you set the barrier spell? we don't want them getting near henry." you asked curiously, turning your head to look at him.

"already did it this morning.." he waited a few seconds. "while you were supposed to train." he gestured, raising his eyebrows and a grin appeared on his face when he looked at you.

you looked down at the ground, again being reminded of it. and you hated it, he was too pushy sometimes.

"it's getting late, let's head back to camp." you ignored his remark and started walking in the camp's direction, when he suddenly grabbed your wrist.

"love."

"i'm not gonna say it. you're not wrong, i am tired but that's not the point. it was not my fault." you annoyingly rolled your eyes at him, thinking he wanted you to apologise for not listening. you wrung yourself out of his grip, walking away as you heard his footsteps behind you.

"i can walk by myself pan!"

//

ugh i just love writing about powerful characters that are women

just halfway i realized i had too many ideas for this, so decided to make a series on it. for the people that prefer ao3, i will also post it there soon.

i'm already working on the second part, there's gonna be more tensionnn, and also i know this is kinda a cliffhanger but i promise I'll finish it. the last sentence is gonna make more sense the next part :)

[muddyorbsblr]

bigger than the whole sky [rtc what if…?]

'relinquish the crown' masterlist See my full list of works here!

BE WARNED SPOILERS FOR THE LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE AHEAD

Summary: What if…you'd broken Frigga's memory spell without Loki? | Your search for your husband leads you to a peculiar void beyond the Nine Realms, to a place that vaguely resembles the Tree of Life that you'd only read about in historical texts.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst with no happy ending in sight; this is in the RTC universe so…themes of incest if you squint; Loki S2 finale spoilers; slight violence in the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: gonna repeat it again…Loki S2 finale spoilers ahead; no prior reading of RTC is required to suffer enjoy reading this story

"I will ask you one final time, you sadistic hedonist," you panted, taking a moment to lean on Stormbreaker while the eccentric tyrannical leader of Sakaar laid bleeding on the ground. One hand clutched his abdomen where you'd struck him, the other gingerly held his broken nose.

This wasn't something that you enjoyed doing, putting others through pain. But knowing Loki's history with this Grandmaster long before you two had met was easing your worry somehow that you were doing something reprehensible. There were pains that your beloved, even after all the time you'd known each other prior to your betrothal and marriage, were not quite ready to share with you.

His time in Sakaar was among those pains.

That knowledge alone was enough to get you to stop catching your breath, marching over to the Grandmaster and pinning him to the ground with the end of your battle axe's handle.

"Where is Loki?"

"Lady, I already told you back in the viewing box, I haven't seen your u--Agh!" You pressed Stormbreaker's handle harder against a tender spot on his shoulder, his body visibly showing signs of surrender before he started tapping on the floor. "Alright I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whined.

"Shall we try this again, then?" He did his best to nod his head, sighing heavily. "Where did you last see him?"

"I swear to you on my Champion's grave it's been millions of years for me here in Sakaar," he choked out, still audibly struggling to draw in his breath. "It was a time he didn't even know you yet. You probably hadn't even been born."

"So you truly bear no knowledge of my husband's whereabouts?"

"Your hus--I thought he was--"

"Mind your words, charlatan god." He let out another groan of pure agony as you pressed harder on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! I--I really don't know where he is, Your Highness, I don't--"

"Then what use are you to me," you said darkly, another corner of your soul feeling ass if the lights had gone out. Another dead end.

You took a dagger out with your free hand, the Grandmaster's pleas of mercy sounding muffled as they fell on your dulled ears. Nothing he had to say could spare him now; to you, he was no longer a lead, a well lit path that could perhaps point you to where Loki had been all this time.

Now he was simply a shadow of your husband's past. Something so dark that he didn't even dare let you know about it.

Despair began to seep into your veins, a single question overtaking all other remotely coherent thought. Would you ever find him? Would you ever get to apologize? To tell him how you felt? How you'd always felt?

Before you could strike, a loud crack resounded throughout the Grandmaster's suite, coming from a glowing green portal that appeared in the center of the room.

"I would probably take that call, if I were you," the Grandmaster quipped, exhaling a large sigh of relief when you removed the weight of Stormbreaker off of him as you stepped toward the portal. Once the threshold had begun to close after you stepped through, he let out a final sentiment. "Please say hello to your husband for me when you find him."

That was more than enough for you to decide throwing your dagger into the small opening that remained, hitting the smug anachronistic bastard on his uninjured shoulder.

Then the portal finally closed, leaving you in a place you couldn't quite describe. All you knew was that it felt like a place you should never have been allowed access to. A place that should be beyond you. Beyond anyone.

Winding, glowing vines surrounded you, each of them looked and sounded as if they were teeming with a life of its own. If you listened carefully you could hear voices. Your voices. Infinite iterations of them. But one rang clearer than every other in the entire space.

"Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

"I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"The people will look at this union and see it for what it is. Sinful. Shameful!"

You tried to block the memories out of your mind, of you begging your grandmother Queen Frigga to lock your memories away. Of arguing with your grandfather Odin and with your father Thor because they were signing your life away to marry Loki. Of the harsh words you spat at them all behind closed doors.

Of the day the lock on your mind finally broke, after finding your journals prior to the spell being cast chronicling how you'd fallen for the god despite your better judgment. The head-splitting agony of your memories reconciling and finding their place back in your mind.

An agony suffered in your lonesome while Loki was away on assignment.

You scrambled desperately to think of anything else, to follow along the path of the vines and hear something other than your own mistakes being echoed back at you. These desperate attempts made you realize that the vines converged in a structure that eerily resembled an image that you'd only learned about in your youth.

"Yggdrasil?" you whispered in awe, your feet bringing you closer still until you found a parting just large enough for one to squeeze through.

Once you'd finally freed yourself from the winding vines, all air left your lungs at the sight that greeted you. A golden throne at the heart of the tree. All the vines anchored to the man -- or God, rather -- seated in it.

Loki.

"You've left quite a trail of bodies in your wake throughout this quest of yours, little Princess," he spoke, not moving even a fraction from where he sat.

He gave you a soft smile, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he stared at you. As if he couldn't believe you were here with him.

"It's been too long, my darling wife."

You'd rehearsed time and time again throughout your search for your husband what you would say to him once you'd been reunited. You would tell him how wrong you were for how you behaved throughout your betrothal, your marriage. And you would abandon every shred of your pride and beg for his forgiveness. You would tell him you loved him, that you'd always loved him.

And that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Yet somehow you could form none of those words. Instead you finally felt your body succumb to the tiredness brought about by the centuries you'd spent searching and laying waste to every imaginable corner of the Nine Realms and beyond for even the slightest shred of a clue as to where he could have been.

Instead you sunk to your knees, the tears streaming down your face as you stumbled over your words. "I remember everything. I had to find you. Tell you that I'm--"

"I know you are, my love. I watched you on the day the spell broke, the day you finally remembered. I wanted so desperately to come home to you. To not let you have to endure that pain alone."

"Why didn't you?" you blurted out, staring at all the vines he held in his hands. "What are all these?"

"Timelines," he answered you simply, giving you a minuscule shrug of his shoulders. "In every single one, there is an iteration of you and me. Some circumstances may differ, minor details. But at the heart of each of them, we live a life together. We find each other, fall in love. In some we even start a family."

"A family," you repeated breathlessly. The knowledge that each vine -- each timeline -- that was anchored to him held a variation of you and him, of your story, began to eat away at you, flooding you with guilt.

How wretched did you have to be that in your timeline you'd rejected him? Foolishly pushed him away with every mistake you made until finally it took you centuries to find him again?

"What happened?" you finally spoke after what felt like hours. "How did you get--"

"That is quite the long and harrowing tale, darling. In truth, it was a cavalcade of miscalculations and bad judgment calls, failed attempts of trying to save all these lives until I realized that the result would always stay the same if the equation contained the same variables."

"And what was that result?"

"Annihiliation," he answered you simply, giving you a misty eyed look. "Every single strand of time that I hold safe now would have been obliterated on sight. I know it. I've seen it. I've seen you disintegrate before me too many times than I wish to count. The device that once held them stable could no longer scale for an infinite number of possibilities, and letting countless timelines die in the name of the survival of a few was…unacceptable. The only thing that could carry a burden that great was--"

"A god," you finished, the words fighting you their entire way out, nearly choking you on the weight of them. The question that you wished to raise crippled you with its answer's implications. For you and your timeline specifically. "What happens if you let go?"

"It dies. Slowly. Drifts away until it eventually turns to ash." He began to make a motion, as if to approach you, until ultimately he decided against it. "This was the only way. It remains the only way. I must stay, and keep them safe. Watch our lives play out in derivatives of what ifs."

The selfish question that danced at the tip of your tongue plagued you with even more guilt. But what about my timeline? What about our life together? "There has to be another way," you grumbled, stubbornly shaking your head as if you were once again a toddler, refusing to accept the world for being what it was rather than what you wished it would be. "I could stay with you. I could stay and we can find a way together."

Your heart splintered watching him shake his head at you. "My beautiful headstrong wife," he breathed out, his tone filled with both fondness and heartbreak. "I can't in my good conscience let you abandon your life just so you could stay here with me. That would be too selfish, even for me. What would you have here?"

"You! I would have you. All these centuries I've spent in a desperate scramble to find you and tell you that I lo--" You found yourself completely choking on the words now, never having to articulate them before. "That I love you. That I've always loved you and I want us to start our lives together. I refuse to accept that after all this time I have to let you go. You can't make me."

"Asgard needs you, its future Queen."

"And I need you!" Your voice finally broke, sobs that you'd fought inside starting to bubble up. "It isn't fair that you hold all these different tellings of our story in your hands, but your story, yours and mine, ends in us apart. That you spend your days here, watching our life play out somewhere and somewhen else, and you're alone. Please don't send me away, husband," you began to beg. "Don't make me leave you. Let me stay."

He let out a sharp exhale, a tear escaping his eye, rolling down his cheek. "I've longed for the day I would hear you call me that," he sighed, a rueful smile gracing the handsome features that you were bereft of for centuries. "Truly I didn't think I would ever see you again, Y/N. My Y/N. I never thought that I would have you before me, and I hear those words you would only say in dreams with my own ears. Thank you, my dear heart. You have given me a gift in this quest of yours, in having a final moment with the woman I love…" More tears rolled down his cheeks when his smile widened before finishing his sentiment. "And the woman that loves me."

Your sobs filled the endless space, your body collapsing onto the ground as your grief overtook you. The notion of grieving for the living never seemed sensical to you until now. Now that the man, the god, you loved was calling this the last time you would ever see each other.

And you knew in your heart that with the power he wielded now, he could make that your reality without even lifting a finger. He could push you out of this void and back into any timeline of his choosing just as easily as he pulled you out of Sakaar.

The feel of familiar large hands pulling you up to your feet startled you, only having the briefest moment to look at your husband before he pulled you into a crushing embrace. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around him, holding him as close as you could and sobbing into his shoulder before realizing…

If his hands were on you, then why were the vines still in place?

"Loki," you sobbed. "Husband, please. No illusions."

"I can't hold you," he said, choking back his own sobs now. "I couldn't watch you break like this and do nothing." The duplicate he cast to hold you disappeared from your hold in a flash of green. "I've done it before against all my better judgment, I refuse to do it again."

"Then don't." Against your own better judgment, you stomped your foot, like a bratty child being told you had to go home. Which was almost precisely what this was. "If this is where you are and where you will remain, then this is where I wish to stay. With the god that owns my heart. With my husband." You blinked rapidly to expel the tears that blurred your vision before uttering the words that splintered at your heart even more. "I was made to be yours. You said that."

"And I yours," he finished, averting his gaze, letting his own tears drop to the fabric of  his trousers. "In every timeline. We must take solace in knowing that among these infinite tales, one is ours. What could have been ours."

"What should be ours," you insisted. You made your way over to him, placing your hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the sight breaking your heart further. "Our story deserves its bliss-laden epilogue, too."

"Not at the cost of everyone else's. Deep down you know this to be true."

"That does not mean I accept it," you grumbled. "Let me stay."

"You know that I can't. I will not subject you to live out the rest of your days here. Without friends nor family, and only a husband that cannot even hold you as company."

"But at least you would have someone to hold you," you argued, throwing your arms around him and letting your tears flow once more. "I can't just leave you here all on your own. You can't make me." You knew that he damn right could.

"My love," he sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "I wish for you to live a long, and fulfilled life. You've lost so much time in your search for me only for it to end like this. I can give you those centuries back, as a final gift. Reverse the clock, undo the toll it took on you. Let this be the final token of my affection. My fealty. My undying vow."

"Let me keep my memories," you pleaded, already feeling that this would truly be your final moments with him. You did not need to turn your gaze to know that the portal leading back to Asgard was there, waiting for you. Perhaps he would simply nudge you through with his mind, knowing that you would refuse to leave. "Let me keep my remnants of you if that is all that I can leave this place with."

He nodded once. "Very well, little Princess. When you walk through the portal only the physical years will be stripped away. Live well, and remember always that I love you. My heart will only ever belong to you. Until the end of time."

"I love you," you choked out through your tears. "Husband." Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, not bothering to fight back the urge to kiss them away. "I will miss you desperately and always. In every step that I must take in this life without you."

"You will always have me by your side," he swore. "When you feel a presence you cannot see, in gentle breezes within a still room. I will always be there."

You continued to wipe his tears away, the god constantly kissing at your palms. Seemingly refusing to let you go, too.

"May I kiss you?" you asked, barely audibly, your voice unable to even completely form the words. "One last time?"

He gave you a small nod, and you leaned in to press your lips to his, trying to pour out your years of lost time and the future that you were doomed to lose in just a few short moments into that single kiss. You could feel that when he kissed you back, he did so with both all the love he'd never been able to give you before, and the love that he would never be able to bestow in the future.

It was a kiss of finality. A kiss of goodbye. A bittersweet final page in the story of you and Loki.

I love you more than words can ever say, his voice echoed in your mind. Goodbye, my love. My fated. My darling wife.

When you pulled away he was gone. And you'd been returned to your shared chambers back in Asgard. As he promised, the physical toll the centuries-long search had taken on your body were gone. No more scars from miscalculated skirmishes. No more bruises from Sakaar.

No more physical reminders of what you'd endured trying to reunite with the love your life.

All that remained were the memories of those years, and your time in his domain beyond the Realms.

"Goodbye, my darling husband. My love. My Loki," you whispered into the quiet of your marital chambers, sinking to your knees once more and letting out a shriek of pure agony, the sobs swiftly returning and wracking your entire body as you lay pathetically on the floor.

"Y/N??"

The sound of your mother Lady Sif's voice provided little comfort, but it felt like a familiar balm. "Mother," you said weakly, unmoving from your spot on the ground even as she rushed to you, cradling you in her lap.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She stroked your hair while your tears soaked her sleep dress. You felt her wave someone over, and moments later you felt your grandmother Queen Frigga's presence in the room with you.

"I lost. I lost and I know not what to do now," you managed to say through your tears.

"What did you lose, Daughter?"

You'd briefly considered explaining your journey, from breaking the spell, to your journey through the centuries, to Loki's domain beyond the reach of space and time. To relay what had become of your husband.

Ultimately the words were beyond you due to your grief.

"Everything," you answered her, holding on to her tight as if you were a child again. This would be the only semblance of comfort you would have. "I lost everything."

A/N: I had to after that finale had me processing and feeling the big sad all day, I promise I'm working on 2 other stories based on the finale that have kinda better endings.

Also I sobbed throughout writing this entire thing, just for the record.

Now here's the song to add to the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog