#i be staring at this scene for like 16 minutes now

[kittykatstiles]

this is insane

[verstappen-cult]

GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant. BONUS. . . lance stroll.

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

it stared with a couple of innocent kisses in lando’s driver room before the race. you don’t usually engage in that kind of behavior at least until after a race, but lando was feeling a little under the weather and while you were only trying to comfort him, he had other plans. and, well, if that makes him feel better you won’t deny him a little bit of fun. now, you’re straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, it’s hot and you want to rip your top and his fireproofs off, and lando, as always, is one step ahead of you. his hands slip under your shirt, the pad of his fingers softly caressing your skin as his lips find the pulse point on your neck. you don’t know if the whimper you hear belongs to you or lando, the only thing you know is that the race can wait a few minutes.

“lando it’s time to g–” you don’t hear the end of the sentence because lando’s race engineer it’s too stunned to finish speaking. you’re quick to jump off of your boyfriend’s lap, but you’ve been caught and it’s impossible to deny what you were doing, there’s evidence on yours and lando’s face. the man just laughs and closes the door, saying something about keeping his head clear of any distraction.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

you were just trying to help charles clean his shirt after you spilled your drink on top of him. but he was so close to you, his breath tickling your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, and it just happened. the kiss was shy at first, both of you uncertain of what you were doing. but then you were being lifted up by charles and sat down on the sink, legs immediately parting to make room for him. you didn’t care that you were in dani’s guest bathroom and anyone could walk in on you, you also didn’t care when charles’ hands found your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh while his mouth kept the assault in yours, neither did you care when those same hands lifted your dress up, up and up until you could clearly feel the effect your kisses were making on him.

you were ready to ask charles to do something when the door opened startling you both. charles stepped away and you jumped off the sink, trying to brush your hair and looked presentable to the owner of the house who was now looking at you, surprise written all over his face before bursting out laughing. “guys! you won’t believe this!” it only took a panicked looked between you and charles for the boy to sprint down the hallway to try and shut his friend up.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

you don’t know if australia has something in the air or if being in oscar’s childhood bedroom is making you feel a certain way. but the second the door closes, you’re leading him to the bed. oscar is a little uncertain at first and looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat the moment your lips find his. he doesn’t wait a minute in taking control, and lays you down on the bed, his body on top of yours. then your impromptu kissing session it’s not enough, you need to feel him closer, you want his hands everywhere.

“would you like some lemonade?” it’s too late for you to pretend to be doing something else than being in an intense making out session when oscar’s mom, the woman you’ve just met that same day, opens the door. when she sees the scene, she quickly closes her eyes, hiding behind her hands. it would make you laugh if it were any other situation. oscar doesn’t move but looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “i did not see a thing!” you would pretty much prefer for the earth to swallow you whole than to face the woman again.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

it’s not max’s fault that you look so, so good in that damn dress that all he wants is to rip it off of you. if the FIA gala wasn’t so important—it’s not. not for him, at least—he would get out of there immediately. instead, he has to settle with crowding you against a wall in a secluded corner of the building when he finally has some time for you. he can barely keep his hands to himself, and is touching you even before you can feel his lips against yours. max whispers sweet nothings as his lips go from your mouth to your neck and then up again, making you feel dizzy. he lifts your dress up around your thighs, and you allow him access in a heartbeat, not caring about anything but how addicting his kisses are.

“ejem,” a cough makes max pull away, and doesn’t hesitate on shielding your body with his, giving you enough time to fix up your clothes. “we’re next.” christian horner tries to look at anywhere but you, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or feel ashamed. both, probably. max dismisses him with a simple nod of his head, and once you’re alone, max goes back to what he was doing before. you still have a few minutes to spare, he says.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

you were having the time of your life choosing an outfit for a party next week, your boyfriend waiting for you just outside the changing room; you actually were focused on trying to zip up a beautiful black dress you had chosen when the door opened, revealing alex with a mischievous smile on his face. as quick as he opened it, he closed it behind him. you didn’t question him, it’s definitely not the first time he’s done something like this, so, you, more than happy, welcomed him with open arms and a set of pink and plump lips. and alex is immediately swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and kissing your properly—kissing you so slow while gently cupping your face, trying to take as much as he wants from you, and you’re ready to give it to him freely.

“is someone there?” a girl’s voice startles you both, but before you can think of hiding alex or saying something—not that you can with your boyfriend’s mouth against yours—she’s opening the door. neither you nor alex know what to do other than to stay very still and very quiet, as if that would make the girl forget what she saw.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

you told daniel that hiding in the airplane bathroom to make out wasn’t a good idea, but you still got up and went voluntarily when he gave you the signal. waiting for him to knock was torture, you were pretty sure you were going to get caught. but when you opened the door and your boyfriend pulled you in to finally kiss you, you forgot about everything. the way daniel kisses should be illegal—how he lets you take the lead until your kisses become sloppy and your head feels dizzy and you can’t keep up with it because it feels so good. then he takes control, gripping your waist with such force it’ll leave marks; the mere thought makes you weak in the knees.

“open up! you can’t do that in here.” a huge knock on the door makes you pull away, but daniel doesn’t let you go, chasing after you until you give up and kiss him again. this time the kisses are more intense and the tiny bathroom it’s too warm and you’re wearing too many clothes. the person behind the door is forgotten the moment daniel gets so close that you become one. you’re already in trouble, so, it’s doesn’t matter if you stay a few more minutes in there.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

kissing at clubs is not something you would’ve done in the past, not even when lights are so low and no one cares what the person next to you is doing. but ever since you started dating mick, there are a lot of things you’ve already done that you never thought you would do. and making out in a corner of the club with mick pressing against the window, his body molding into yours just in the right spots is definitely one of them. mick is practically knocking the air out of your lungs with the way he’s kissing you, and you have to hold onto his shoulders afraid of melting to the ground. you don’t know where you are, and you really don’t care as long as mick keeps kissing you like that, so you don’t push him away when you feel his hand making its way up your thigh, getting closer to where you need him the most.

but then you hear people laughing. mick pulls away first, groaning for being interrupted, but then you look around and you’re right next to the bathroom from where a group of girls are walking out. you feel all the blood in your body rushing to your face, they look amused but you want to disappear. you hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and don’t look up until mick is the one lifting your chin up to kiss you. this time he takes your hand while saying something about going home to finish what you started.

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

it’s childish. and all of you are adults. you definitely should not be playing truth or dare in a party like thirteen years old. however, you don’t say anything when oscar dares you to spend seven minutes in the closet with logan. it’s true you both have been dancing around each other for a while now, what you didn’t know it’s that it was so obvious for everyone around you too. the cheering from your friends dies down when the door closes and you and logan are alone. you look into each other’s eyes for a minute, pure silence in the secluded space, then logan glances down at your lips and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize he’s asking for permission. your eyelashes flutter as you take a step closer, and he wraps his arms around your waist without a trace of hesitation. you’re gasping into his mouth the next second, his lips warm and soft. his fingers brush along your jaw and, in that moment, you decide this won’t be the last time you’re gonna be tasting his lips, you want to do it every hour of every day.

but then the door opens and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been burned. there are a lot of eyes looking between you and logan for a moment before someone shouts “fucking finally!” and everyone’s laughing and cheering. when you look at logan again, he has a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

★ — LANCE STROLL (18)

lance made sure you two were alone in his parent’s house before taking you in his arms and sitting on the couch. he smiles at you with the same bright and pretty smile that stole your heart one time two years ago as you run your hands through lance’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, letting them rest on his chest. lance grabs onto your waist and meets your lips halfway, all his body relaxing immediately. he kisses you so softly but determined, licking into your mouth when you give him access, like it’s his last day on earth and he needs you to keep breathing, surviving. you let his hands roam freely over your body and you can feel your heart pounding so hard, almost as if it’s gonna jump out of your chest and you can’t do anything about it. when your boyfriend’s hands graze your lower back for a second before grabbing your arse, a tiny mewl escapes you.

and as you’re about to grind down, “oh my god!” lance’s sister screams in surprise. you both look at her, more embarrassed than afraid. you know your cheeks and ears are as pink as the shirt you’re wearing, and you feel like your skin is actually burning. ”well, i guess we had the same thought.” she says stepping aside, her boyfriend coming into view with a shy smile on his face.

requested by @biancathecool. . . The boys (individually) Nd fem!reader getting caught making out, with the driver having thier hands shoved down their gfs pants or up their shirt 🫠❤️ Alsin if you could please add lance in this one.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ touch me feel me, renji abarai (nsfw)

renji helps you relax after a long day at the nursing home.

for @roronoaswifey 🫶🏾🫶🏾

you huff out a deep breath as you finally open the door to your apartment. with a close of your eyes, you begin to feel yourself swaying back and forth in near collapse, but almost jump when you feel a familiar large set of hands support you.

“renjiii, don’t touch me, i have old people piss & shit over me,” you whined, shrugging your husband off of you. “i’m sweating, i stink, i feel disgusting.

renji frowned before embracing you again. “i missed you.”

you turn your head and peck his lips before leaving your dirty shoes by the front door and begin walking barefoot to your bathroom. “i know baby, but i need to shower first. that 16 hour double really fucked my back up.”

renji nearly winces at the sound of your back cracking for comfortability. but still, he ignored your previous protests and continues to place small kisses at the nape of your neck as you undressed out your scrubs. he’d lick you in dirt if you’d let him. some sweat didn’t bother him.

“i’ll run you a bath. then lemme give you a massage afterward, mama.” his voice is so convincing. all you wanted to do was collapse and fall asleep, but it would be a cold day in hell before you sat on any piece of your furniture in your contaminated work clothes. renji picks up your scrubs and places them in your work hamper set to wash in the morning.

finally, you give in with a bare nod as renji makes his way over to the tall white tub. running piping hot water just the way he knew you liked, you’re in the bath in two minutes. you sink to your bottom and tiredly rest your cheek against the base of your knee. renji notices how you’re so exhausted, you forgot to put your braids up so they wouldn’t get wet. grabbing pieces of your hair, he ties it up in a makeshift bun atop your head, to which you thank him with a mutter.

“bad day mama?” he asks as he began soaping your back with your washcloth. you let out a deep breath for the millionth time. you were just so happy to be home with him now. from the quietness of your response, he already knows your answer. “what happened baby?”

“so much shit. this shift was more traumatizing than the last. some old bitchy aide reported me to the nurse for a small mistake of leaving a trash bag in a room and i just kept making a bunch of mistakes today. i’m already an outcast because of how new i am to this shit, so this just makes it all much more embarrassing,” you admit it. “i don’t really wanna talk too much on it, ‘fore i get pissed off. that okay?”

renji looks at you as you turn to him with sad eyes. he gives you an adoring smile as he kisses your ear. “you just worked 16 hours. wouldn’t be expecting no different shit from you,” he teased with a small laugh from you. “just remember, everyone starts from somewhere. at the end of the day, you have a bigger goal to reach after school and most of that shit just stems from jealousy. a lot of older people don’t like seeing younger ones win or get bread. it’s fucking crazy.”

you giggle at his words, slowly feeling the stress leave your body. leaning against renji’s arm on the side of the tub, you run your pruny fingers across the terrain of his multiple tattoos. with soft eyes, you turn your head to face him once more.

“still wanna give me that massage?”

and that was how you ended up with your back to the mattress, getting between your legs ate out like no tomorrow. you always knew renji ate pussy. it was one of the reasons you got and stayed with him. but to say he was average at doing so—would be one of the biggest lies ever told.

“oh,” your voice is barely audible as your each up to stare down at the scene before you. a full head of red hair is busy obstructing your view as you can only see the side of renji’s face while he eats you out. “right there.”

you don’t have it in you to scream, you don’t have it in you to do too much. all you could do was cry and whine. your entire body is moisturized and glistening with cocnout oil with exception to your pretty pussy that’s being devoured by your husband.

“renji,” you let out, mind too confuzzled from the intense pleasure from your lower half to form any proper words. “t-that feels s-so—fuck daddy,” you bite your lip so hard, you swear you feel blood drawing from the pricked skin.

“feels good baby?” renji’s deep voice sends vibrations between your thighs as you nearly suffocate him from squeezing so tight around his head. he couldn’t blame you, you were a head squeezer as much as he was a head pusher.

“so good, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you cried, watching the euphoric scene unfold beneath you. renji licked long stripes up the base of his cunt before spreading your fat lips open to get a better view of your soaked clit already beginning to coat itself in white. to make matters better worse, renji slipped in a long and slender middle finger into your entrance, slowly pumping in and iut of you.

you begin to feel his digits curl in and out of you as he continues working around your creamy clit. it’s inevitable for your hands to immediately fly to his maroon red hair, wavy strands damp from helping you out in the bath.

your knees are folded so far back behind your head, the dangling jewelry of your belly piercing is digging deep into your skin as you threaten to collapse your legs along renji’s own back. “can’t—can’t hold it,” you’re breathing heavily, unsure on whether or not you can contain your orgasm.

renji hums at the sweet spot between your legs and continues at his slow pace. he was gonna take his time with you tonight. he knew how hard you worked, and only wanted nothing but the best treatment he could give you for the night. the pleasure wasn’t his, but instead yours.

within seconds, the devious redhead is kissing your clit, still working wonders on you. 11:59 by elijah blake is now playing lowly through your shared room as you grip the bedsheets beside you. renji uses his free hand to slowly slide up your body, making sure to touch every aspect of your curvaceous terrain.

without the use of his eyes, his hands immediately find home to one of your breasts, and he grabs the fat flesh in his hand, squeezing it contently. he removes his touch from you to spread your lips open once more, deciding to turn the heat up just a bit.

“renji!” you’re gasping when you feel his tongue poke your open hole. that was enough to send you creaming all over his face, milky white arousal coating his long tongue diving in and out of you. “please please, right there, i’m cumming, i’m cumm—“ your boyfriend ignores your exasperated cries as your legs tremble around him.

an hour later, he’s still going and by now you’re on your fourth orgasm. renji never joked around when he said he ate pussy for his pleasure. and not just any pussy—your pussy. the man could eat you out for hours on end then fall asleep like a baby without ever expecting anything back from you in return. he proved himself right every time he got between your plush thighs and ate you out like your pussy was his last meal on death row.

renji comes up from between your legs for the first time in a while. “c’mon ma, you can cum one more time for me. make a mess on my face baby, you deserve it.” a taunting smirk is rested upon his face as he admires the reaction he managed to have on you.

your entire body felt like it was going through shock. how could him eating your pussy soft and slow make you feel like a thousand volts of electricity where running through your bloodstream? you can’t even remember the trouble you went through earlier that day at work by the time you’re finally squirting along his face, completely done and overstimulated.

your mouth is held wide open in an o position as your breath gets caught in your throat. you can’t find the breath to speak as you continue releasing yourself all over renji, who, in turn is basking in your arousal like a child at a waterpark. tears flow from your dolly eyes as you finally feel all energy suck out of you like a vacuum.

by now, renji is doing his last rounds and licking you up completely clean. he always managed to get you so fucked out whether it was with his dick or with his fingers and tongue alone. by the time you’re pretty much wiped up clean, your man presses kisses along the brown terrain of your body. your braids are long gone out your bonnet by now, and you’re sure that your sheets were next in line to wash.

renji’s voice is sensual and low as he comes back up to you and looks down in your eyes with love and lust clouding his pupils. running his large hand down your breasts and giving it a comforting rub, he asks you, “you finally forgot about all that shit that got you worked up at your job earlier?”

the nod on your head isn’t enough to hide your smile as you throw your leg over him and finally knock out for the night.

[doukeshi-kun]

I like that one scene when stalker!kolya was being teased by his darling in the part2.

It is indeed fun to tease him

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ��𝙞𝙢

replies ⨳ i love teasing stalker!nikolai too mueheh enjoyy

content ⨳ nikolai gogol x fem!reader, some n/sfw, teasing, obsessive (and pervy) thoughts, just the usual stalker!nikolai and reader's dynamics

“Yes, I know, Erika. But the financial reports for the last several months have shown that Funhouse 16 is barely visited and has suffered quite a loss. It performed very badly compared to others. It is better to demolish it and change to a new one than renovate it again.” Nikolai says, wanting to roll his eyes annoyed. Currently, he is on a video call with his staff, sitting at his working desk in his cramped campervan. The reason why he stays here instead of going to the main tent and directly facing his staff is because you are in his campervan now. He doesn't want to leave you alone.

It has been over an hour and Nikolai still has more to go through. He wants to spend time with you, knowing you are lying on his bed, bored and have nothing to do besides waiting for him to finish work. Ah, he feels a little guilty for making you wait. He will surely treat you to a nice dinner as an apology today.

Nikolai could not help but keep glancing at you. His eyes constantly move towards you, staring for a few seconds before he remembers he has to listen to Erika's babbling. Well, could you blame him for losing focus over you? Especially when you are on his bed, gosh, Nikolai wishes he could tie you in his bed and lock you in here forever but that would be too rough for his little bird.

“Sir, what do you think?” one of his staff calls. Nikolai turns to the camera, barely remembering what the hell is going on but the mindless notes he jotted on his own paper helps him to respond professionally.

“Well, to be fair, this...” his words falter a bit when he hears shifting noises from his left. He tries to focus again and continues to give his insight, but his curious eyes cannot help to look at you.

Nikolai feels like his breath is getting ripped away instantly.

You are on his bed, completely topless, your bra is on the pillow as you are wearing one of his shirts that you took from his bundle of clothes—he doesn't even have the time to fold them. But Nikolai certainly sees your tits and your soft tummy and your ribs and your back and your—

“Sir?”

“Ah— Uh, where the hell was I?” Nikolai asks and he hears Erika's voice. However, his attention is on you. There is a subtle playfulness on your face when you take off the shirt again, completely baring your naked upper body to Nikolai before you crawl to reach another t-shirt of his.

His face is blushing. His cock is hard. His stomach feels funny. His chest is heavy and surely he finds it harder to breathe. It is not the first time he sees you naked but he still loses his shit when he sees just a bit more of your skin. Lust erupts and his love blossoms again.

“Just a minute—” Nikolai mutes his microphone and turns off his camera and looks at you. You turn to him too with a grin. Ahh, that fucking grin when you teased him a few months back after his circus show, asking for his signature on your boobs.

“You're killing me, sweetheart.”

“What? I'm getting sleepy, so I just want to prepare for a nap. Nobody likes to sleep with a bra on and in an uncomfy blouse.” you reply, puffing the pillow. Nikolai's eyes trail to your bra and your blouse that are scattered on his bed. He wants to steal them. He wants to keep them in his possession. He wants to add them to his collection. He will buy a new one and he will steal it again after you wear it. Please, please, please.

“You're saying my shirts are comfortable for you?” Nikolai smirks and you shrug your shoulders. The shirt you wear is quite thin and as much as he wants to not be a pervert, his mind already wanders.

“Comfy enough. And I look cute in it,” you chuckle, running your hands on your breasts just to get him worked up. And oh, he did. Nikolai takes off his headphones and gets up, eyes hungry, licking his lips.

“No.”

And he stops when you place your foot on his chest, slowly pushing him back to sit on his chair. You trail your foot down his torso and lightly brush his boner before you pull away quickly as Nikolai tries to catch your ankle.

“You have work. Go to work."

“No way. Can't you fucking see how hard I am?” he whines. “I'm gonna end the meeting now.”

“No, Kolya. You already complained to me that you have a lot of work and you want to finish it today. So, do your work.”

Nikolai looks at you and bites his lips in frustration. Well, he cannot really argue with you. He knows he will obey you one way or another and you know how devoted he is to please you. He, frustratingly, turns himself to his laptop again. However, before he could prepare for the meeting again with a raging boner under his pants, he sees you getting off the bed and scoots to him.

And there, you sit on the floor, right next to his legs. You lean your head between his thighs, yawning. And Nikolai's hand instinctively places itself onto your head, caressing your hair gently.

“Uh-uh, no touching. But well... I take it back,” you yawn again. “This feels nice. Makes me feel sleepier.” your murmur, leaning your head directly on his clothed cock. And Nikolai has to hold himself back, cussing under his breath.

He will tug your hair and force his cock in your throat later, but for now, he will play nice.

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[srvbryn]

Clarisse La Rue. Flower Field

Clarisse La Rue X f!reader (no mention of godly parent)

Summary: going to a field of flowers to take photos but end up laying in the field with Clarisse<33

Warning: NONE, this one is short 😔

A/n: I hope people realize that I also write 4 other characters THAT ISN'T LUKE CASTELLAN 😭😭 also maybe I should start writing for Umbrella Academy 🤭🤭 BEN <333

The usual date is enjoyable, but today is special for you and Clarisse, <3 it is the anniversary of the day you and she first met.

So, why not spend the day with your beloved girlfriend in the flower field?

You and Clarisse find a comfortable spot to lie down among the colourful blooms. The sun warms your skin, and laughter fills the air.

"These flowers are pretty, but you're prettier." Clarisse spoke up, breaking the silence.

You blush, playfully nudging her. "Smooth, sweetness. I thought you were here for the flowers."

Shs grins, reaching for your hand. "Nah, I'm here for you. And maybe a few good photos."

The field of flowers surrounds you, a kaleidoscope of colours under the sun's gentle caress.

Warmth, the feeling of warmth, and spending time together is definitely what you like, especially since being a demigod is very dangerous :((

Most demigods didn't make it past the age of 16, so you appreciate the opportunity to spend time with your girlfriend.

Clarisse vibrant rare personality complements the surroundings, suggests an ideal location to capture the memory of the day.

As you set up the camera, Clarisse can't resist teasing, "Hey, you better make sure my good side is the focus."

You smile and say, "Don't worry, I'll make you look like the daughter of Aphrodite." The shutter clicks, freezing a moment that reflects the warmth you share.

Soon, the petals and the soft hum of bees have you both lying down, with the grass beneath providing a natural bed. Clarisse looks at you, her eyes sparkling.

"Who knew a field of flowers could be so relaxing? Beats any fancy mattress - I could fall asleep any minute now."

You join in, "Nature's way of inviting us to take a break, I guess."

The conversation flows, blending with the rustling leaves and the distant sounds of birds.

"This feels like one of those cheesy romance scenes from a novel." Clarisse scoffs.

You smirk, "Are you complaining?"

She nudges you, her voice softening, "No, just observing. It's nice."

It's like a scene straight from a fairytale. It was lovely to see your girlfriend's eyes reflect the sun as she sat right in front of you.

"You are staring," she said. You did not respond to her right away - instead, you kissed her cheeks and grinned.

"Of course, I'm staring, pretty girl."

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter” 6

Dad!Bakugou x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

“Mama Y/n..”

Did he hear him right? Did his son just call his teacher mama?

Katsuki scowled at this. He was trying to keep himself calm as he put Kazui back to bed and left the bedroom fast. This time, he shut the door as calmly as he can not to wake Kazui and made his way to the kitchen.

“What the fuck have you been teaching Kazui, huh!”

The loud voice made you stop pouring the sauces onto each plate and looked at Katsuki who was slowly nearing you.

“W-what?” You were confused. You didn't know what you did wrong.

“What the fuck have you been teaching to my son huh,” Katsuki repeated his voice raising.

“N-nothing! What would I teach him?” You were so confused. Earlier everything was fine, now here you are, face to face with an angry Bakugou.

“I don't know what you did to him, but this is the last time you’ll take care of him! I don't care if you're his teacher. You are not to take him in this shitty-ass apartment, ever again!” Katsuki yelled slamming his hand on the counter, trying to not activate his quirk.

Hearing him say this, Y/n’s heart throbbed painfully. She didn't know what she did exactly and why was he suddenly like this to you.

“B-bakugou. I really have no idea, please. Believe me.” Y/n looked him in his eyes showing him your honesty. You were really clueless.

Katsuki who was staring back at you saw how you have really no idea what he was talking about. He simply looked away and ran his hand through his hair.

“You really have no fucking idea, huh,” Katsuki said with a lower voice this time.

“Please. I really don’t..” You mumble wiping a tear from your eye.

Katsuki hesitated at first. He wasn't sure if he should really trust you or if this is only an act. But seeing you wipe a tear from your eye made him feel terrible. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking.

“He calls you mama.”

Y/n didn't miss how his scowl deepened mentioning this. She sniffed a little bit before trying to compose herself.

“I need to tell you something.” She mumbled, head hanging low.

Katsuki slightly turn his head to look at you after he heard what you said.

“When we got home. Eer, I mean. When we reached my apartment, I was preparing our dinner when he suddenly asked me something and made me stop.” She said as she tucked a hair to her ear.

“What is it,” Katsuki commanded listening intently, his gaze never leaving her face.

“He asked if I could be his mother. I told him it was not possible so he cried.” Y/n said recalling the scene from earlier. She could remember how broke Kazui looks making her heart throb in pain. “He said why he doesn't have a mom, why he couldn't have a mom, and started crying.”

When Katsuki heard this, he couldn't help but close his eyes in despair. He didn't know his son is feeling this way. Was that the reason why he was asking for his mother?

“It pains my heart seeing him cry. I love Kazui. Like my own child. But at that moment, I couldn't do anything. I couldn't say no because I can't.” You said, tears streaming from your eyes. “All I did was apologize and carry him. Embrace him as much as I can.” You sniffed. “Then after a few minutes, he calmed down. I found out he was asleep. So I put him on my bed and just went back to cooking.”

After you told him what happened, there was an uncomfortable silence.

“She left.”

Y/n slightly look up to look at Katsuki who suddenly started talking.

“After she gave birth. Kazui’s mother just vanished without any trace.” Why was he saying this to you anyway? “I got home hearing Kazui crying. I made him a bottle of milk not bothering to change. I was helpless. I didn't know what to do when I checked my home empty. All her clothes were gone, jewelry. Even the money I stacked for emergencies. It was all gone.”

You stared at Katsuki in pity. So that's what happened.

Katsuki looked at you seeing how you were staring at him in pity making him tch.

“Don’t fucking look down on me.” Katsuki looked away. “I did what I had to do. I asked for my parent's help.”

“You were brave, Bakugou..”

Your statement made him fully look at you. He saw how sincere you are. How honest. How innocent. So unlike his ex-wife. Now he gets why Kazui was so attached to you.

“Papa?”

The small voice made both eyes widen. Katsuki looked behind him, and you, looked behind Katsuki both seeing Kazui waking up from his nap.

“Are you fighting?” Kazui looked at both of you.

“No, sweetie. Why would we fight?” Y/n smiled at Kazui.

“Papa?” Kazui looks to his papa asking for confirmation.

“Were not, brat,” Katsuki said ruffling Kazui’s hair.

Kazui lifted his arms up, asking to be carried but Katsuki rejected him.

“I thought you said you were too old to be carried,” Katsuki smirked but carried Kazui anyway.

Once Kazui settled in his arms, he looked at Y/n who just smiled at him.

“Ms. Y/n?” Kazui called.

“What is it, dear?” Y/n said staring sweetly at Kazui.

“Did you cry?”

Y/n stiffened but quickly compose herself. “Of course not, sweetie. Why would I cry?” You said.

Suddenly, Kazui places his small hand on your cheek making you blink.

“Are you okay, Ms. Y/n? Is someone bothering you? I can make papa beat them for you.”

Y/n laughed at what Kazui just said. He didn't know that you cried because of his father. But you’re not going to tell him that, of course.

“I assure you, sweetie. Teacher’s fine, okay?” Y/n gave Kazui a soft smile. “Now why don't you put this plate on the table so we can eat? You know your papa and I waited for you to wake up so we can all eat together.” You giggled seeing Kazui’s excited reaction as he wiggle out of his father’s arms.

“Really! We would eat together?! Yay!!” Kazui quickly grab the plates you were about to hand him and carefully took small steps, trying to spill the food.

Katsuki watches your interaction with Kazui quietly. He was still standing beside you in the kitchen, watching how you lied to his son about not crying.

Was this what it's supposed to feel like to have a wife around?

Katsuki saw how you treated Kazui like your own blood. How motherly you act towards him. No wonder he called you mama. Because he’s seeing you as a mother figure. A mother Katsuki wished Kazui has.

“Bakugou? Are you okay?”

Now here you are, worrying about him too.

“Tch. I’m fine.” Katsuki said about to head where the dining area.

“Wait.” Y/n suddenly said and grab his wrist, causing him to look at her.

“It may be too much to say, but please. Don’t take Kazui away..”

Her eyes. It's always her eyes that he noticed. It's how she shows her true emotions through her eyes.

“Tch.” Katsuki tched and firmly let go of her grasp.

He stood motionless, slowly putting his other hand inside his pocket and then slightly turning his head behind so he can look at her. But he didn't say anything, instead, he walked away.

Y/n looked at his back sadly. She didn't know if that was approved or not. But she tried not to get it inside her head. She took the last two plates from the counter and places them on the dining table where Katsuki and Kazui were now sitting on their own chairs.

“Itadakimasu.”

..

The dinner went well. From Kazui’s rambling, and spilling food everywhere to Katsuki scolding Kazui to not spill the food everywhere and you, just smiling and chuckling, watching the father and son interaction.

After dinner, Kazui was watching TV whilst Y/n clean up the dining table. Unexpectedly, Kastuki suddenly appeared, helping her.

“No, no. It's fine. You're my guess-

“Shut up,” Katsuki mumbled going to the sink and started washing the dishes.

“B-bakugou.” You tried to stop him but he just blocked you from going closer to the sink.

“I said shut up. Wipe the table.” Katsuki threw a soaked tablecloth to Y/n’s face. Noticing it hit her face, Katsuki smirked. But soon turned into a laugh when he saw you pouting.

“Bakugou.” You pouted but threw the cloth back at him, hitting him on his face as well, earning you a laugh.

Katsuki growled in this. “You little shit.” When the cloth slid off reveals his annoyed yet playful face. “Come back here!”

“No!”

When Y/n saw Katsuki took a step, you also took off. Both adult running around the house while Kazui watched in delight, laughing.

..

It was now 10 pm in the evening.

The sleeping Kazui was carried by Katsuki as he left the Y/n’s who were following him behind.

You followed them all the way to their car where you saw Katsuki settle Kazui into his own car seat, making sure that the belt was fastened and closing the door.

“Have a safe travel, Bakugou.” Y/n smiled as she watches Katsuki made his way to the driver’s seat.

But before Katsuki get inside, he looked at Y/n who was looking back at him curiously. “There’s a bag I left in your apartment. Go inside.” Katsuki said tilting his head in the direction of her apartment. “It's dangerous at this hour. You don't have to see us off.” He added.

“T-thank you.” You mumbled, slightly blushing.

“Ha? Tf are you thanking me for? I should be the one doing that.” Katsuki slightly pouts. “I said go.”

“Y-yes.” You stuttered. “G-goodnight, Bakugou.” You smiled slowly turning away.

“Tch.”

Once you entered your apartment, you heard the engine start and gradually, the sound drifted away.

Y/n smiled to herself. She didn't expect Katsuki to have his playful side as well. She thought he was all serious.

Once she locked her front door. Y/n was about to leave the living room when she saw the bag Katsuki was talking about.

She blinked at it curiously as she approached it. When she opened it, she saw a bunch of fruits and flowers and a small note with writing saying thank you. She smiled softly as she read this.

[fkmarrycill]

One Shot: A Small Favor

Tommy Shelby x reader

630-ish words (635 in Google Docs, give or take some final edits in Tumblr 🤷🏽‍♀️)

🔞 For implied sex and foreplay

I'm slowly easing back into writing, and this scene was inspired by #16 on this list of smutty prompts. The idea just screamed Tommy to me. Thank you for reading! ❤️

She sets her lipstick on the dressing table and admires her efforts for tonight: hair twisted into a low chignon, lips an enticing shade of deep red, eyes lined for subtle drama. Her black, off-the-shoulder gown skims the dangerous curves of her body, and diamonds sparkle in her ears and on one of her wrists.

There's just one thing marring the sophisticated look she was going for: an angry, purplish bruise on her collarbone. She stares at it in the mirror. It's not large, maybe the size of her fingertip, but it's all she can see now.

He approaches from behind, resting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her neck. “Is something wrong, love?” He traces a finger on one of her ears before gently nipping her earlobe.

“You damn well know the answer to that, Tommy. Look at what you did! I told you, not tonight! Churchill could be there!”

“He loves the arts, as I'm told, and certainly will be in attendance at the opera. And, lucky for me, the only thing that he loves more than arts and this fine country is a bawdy story.” He winks at her reflection and kisses her on the top of her head. “This one tells itself quite clearly, with no need for a single word of elaboration, yeah?”

“You already planned to meet with him, didn't you?”

“I may have offered to buy him a drink during intermission and meet my wife, yes… Did I not mention that?” He murmurs before sliding his hands up her ribcage, skimming her body just below her breasts, before cupping them in his hands over the fabric and grazing his fingers on her nipples.

She lets out a soft moan but quickly recovers. “No, Tommy, you most certainly did not.” She wriggles out of his grasp and heads to her closet, returning shortly to the mirror to arrange a floral-print scarf around her neck. But Tommy's handiwork from their earlier lovemaking refuses to be concealed, peeking out just below the edge of the artfully arranged silk.

She yanks the scarf from her neck and sighs in frustration before balling it up and throwing it at him.

“Oi,” he barks gently, as he often does when mildly scolding their children. He lets the scarf fall to the floor, grabs her hands, and pulls her close. “I won’t apologize for marking you up,” he says with a stern shake of his head. “Everyone should know you’re taken.” His gaze is intense, but there's still the softness of love to it, nothing like the unnerving, steely glare reserved for his enemies. “Everyone, including Churchill, should know you're mine, that Thomas Shelby, OBE, is a man who loves his wife passionately. He's no longer the fucking thug who dirtied his hands with whatever needed to be done, he's an MP who is uniquely capable of meeting the needs of his city, as much as those of his woman.” He adjusts the bowtie of his crisp tuxedo before whispering in her ear, “Now, if you forget about the mark and make polite conversation for a few short minutes, I'd be more than happy to fuck you in the car on the way home. I know you like that, love. I have very, very fond memories, as you do, to prove it. What do you say?”

She scoffs, but the flicker of desire in her eyes does not escape Tommy's notice. She might be a little embarrassed by the evidence of their time alone, but she never objects to feeling completely possessed by him.

“Fine. I'll play along.”

“That's my girl, he says, placing a hand on her lower back to usher her through the bedroom door. “Let's say goodbye to the children and go.”

[icarusredwings]

A scrapped scene from "The Man in the Attic" on Ao3.

Written Pre Suketh episodes, Pre Saxteen, depressed 14. Lots of mentions of charater death. They're in the garden talking about crushes.

Rosie

14

..So.. Hypothetically..

Oh bullocks-

Hear me out. You promised you'd awnser any of my questions.

And im starting to regret it.

Hypothetically- If you could pick anyone to marry who would it be?

(His nose scrunches as he grunts, whining)

Can't I pick 5?

You want 5 wives?

Well that's not fair having me pick one when I've been 14- No-15 different people now. I can't just choose one!

Alright if you could pick 5 people to see again, who would you pick?

(He goes silent as he stares at the clouds, his mind going through all of the flings and crushes he's ever had in his entire existence. And yet the name that popped into his head was neither.)

Do they have to be romantic?

Uh…I suppose not.

Susan (Without hesitation) I miss my granddaughter… You’d like Susan..

And the other 4?

Hold on a second! I have to think! sheesh.. just like your mother.. always rushing me..

(She giggles, now waiting and waited For awhile until begining to drift off)

I know my awnser.

(He says after almost 35 minutes of thinking, causing her to jump from a dozed state)

Huh? Oh- what?

Not what. Who. 4 of them. Just like you said. Susan, Sarah Jane, River, and Rose.

But that's only 4.

I can't decide on the last one. Its A tie between so many and it seems unfair to pick just one.. but I guess if I had to or else the earth would explode or something terrible… (A deep sigh) I want to see Patience again..at least.. tell her I haven't forgotten about her- After everything….Wait, why am I telling all this to you? You're a child.

Oi! I thought I was your favorite niece!?

Oh, right. That's why…

you really loved them all didn't you?

What do you mean?

(The look on his face indicates confusion as if wondering why he would have ever stopped in the first place)

You want to see your first wife after all these years. You must have really loved her.

Pssh! I better of! We had 13 kids together!

13!??

What can I say? Your uncle's handsome.

(He licks his fingers and playfully fixes his side burns and eyebrows as she shoves him)

Ew! Gross!

(He giggles before sighing as if talking about them did him some good)

Wouldn't mind seeing Jamie again either but ah well. Not changing my awnsers now... Speaking of which, Hypothetically-

Oh here we go.

You started it- Are they coming here or am I going there? Because I would love to see all of my kids again… But if that's the case I'm going to need you to make an exception and let me see 6 people then.

Forget another wife?

Nah... My daughter Jenny.

Well, there's Scarlette

Who's Scarlett??

Ill tell you when you're older

(He was not about to tell a 15 year old girl about the time he married a sex worker. Not that he was ashamed. He just thought it might be a bit inappropriate to try to explain the whole thing. He didn't want to be that kind of uncle.)

Couldn't you go see her and her mum at the same time?

Wellllll…. her mum is technically machine - or is it still me?

(He ponders for a bit as if this question put him into a spiral of questions)

What?

And im her dad.. ssooo… Yeeeaah.. It's complicated.

You have 14 children…And you never get to see any of them again?

(He stares off into the distance for a while)

…How old are you again?

15. Almost 16. Why?

Right. So you're a big girl then… They're dead, Rose.

(She frowns) All of them?

(He nods,) All of them... as far as i'm aware anyway… I Held held in my arms while she died.. I only knew her 16 hours.. Oh my Jenny.. Im so sorry... your mother named her, you know. Technically, her name is Jane, but she liked Jenny better.

(Rose decided not to push any further, deciding it was for the best, assuming a case of SIDS took his daughter from him. Trying to explain her to anyone was a challenge. Somewhere, in his chest he felt a tiny pang.. Oh Jenny… He hoped he was wrong about her. He hoped she was out somewhere doing good… he'd be proud.)

[rambheem-is-real]

Roll For Seduction (via Beheading)

pairing: varadeva

What if the entirety of Salaar was just a DnD campaign between a group of friends in their basement?

A reimagining of the Naarang beheading scene, inspired by a convo from the server a few months ago

-

Smug faces greeted Devaratha from the circular balcony as they watched Naarang advance on Varadharaja. He hated them all, would make sure they burned for even entertaining the thought of Varadharaja’s death. Devaratha tried once again, pleading with Naarang to take his life instead, but to no avail. Naarang brushed him aside once more, this time grasping at Varadharaja’s collar. The air was crisp with anticipation, like the dark clouds appearing before a devastating storm. Devaratha’s blood boiled as soon as he sensed-

“Dude.”

“What?”

“‘The air was crisp with anticipation’?”

“I’m trying to set the mood, idiot, it’s not even your turn right now.”

Baachi scoffs. “Sure, continue on with your Wattpad fanfic. You’ve been going on about how much Devaratha wants to kill Naarang for twenty minutes now. ”

“Fine,” Aadhya interjects, “I’m gonna need Deva to roll a dexterity check.” Varadha and Rama let out whoops of excitement as Deva picks up his dice. 

“Finally we’re getting somewhere,” Rudra says. “I hope the old man kicks you in the nuts, and Varadharaja drops you back at your mom’s place for being incompetent.” Deva flips him off with one hand as he rolls a die onto the wooden table with his other hand. 16. Rudra fake groans.

“Aadhya!” Deva calls, and Aadhya looks up from typing through the rest of the story. “So obviously I rolled well on that one, but can I roll for something else?”

Sure, why the fuck not, she thinks. “Go ahead." 

“Alright.” Deva smirks over the table at Varadha, who has been passionately pleading with Naarang to kill his character instead of Devaratha his last few turns. “Rolling to seduce Varadha with however I kill Naarang.” 

Rama starts, “That’s not how the game works-”

“That is how the game works, actually, or at least a better version-” Varadha responds, clearly excited over where the scene was going, and Deva beams at him. 

Rama looks at Aadhya, who just shrugs helplessly. Those two had been getting their characters to flirt with each other the entire campaign, often to the detriment of the other players’ missions. 

Deva rolls again, after fiddling with the die for a few seconds. It crawls towards the center of the table, finally stopping as it hits Baachi’s energy drink, and the group all stare in disbelief at the 20 displayed on the top side of the die.

Baachi sits up straight. “I call BULLSHIT. It hit my can!” He points out the clearly visible can, in the center of the table, to Aadhya. “External manipulation and interference.”

“Oh, but your constitution roll hitting Aadhya’s laptop counted?” Deva fires back. 

“Technically, it shouldn’t have,” Rama starts. 

As Baachi, Rama, and Deva snipe at each other, Aadhya puts her head in her hands and sighs. She loves her friends, and loves being a DM as well, but sometimes those two… don’t mix.

“Devaratha beheads Naarang with his own sword,” Aadhya tells Deva, who cheers, and immediately launches into his story. 

Devaratha’s blood boiled as he sensed where Naarang had put his hands. He wouldn’t stand for this. How dare he touch his Varadharaja? His beautiful, lovely, Varadharaja, whose face rivaled that of the moon, whose eyes were as deep and dark as the night sky, whose shoulder muscles were-  

“Oh my GOD, SHUT UP! GET TO IT!” 

“Baachi!” Varadha admonishes.

Well, fine. Point is, Devaratha was not happy that Naarang had touched his man. He turned, grabbing a soldier’s sword and using it to slice through Naarang’s hand. “Didn’t I tell you not to touch him?” He bellowed at Naarang, slicing his own chains off. “Didn’t I tell you not to touch my Varadharaja!” 

“Aww,” Varadha coos. “That’s so sweet, your character loves mine so much.” 

The group, minus Varadha, look at Deva in an awkward silence, and in the background, the Dark Medieval Fantasy instrumental Rudra selected for this scene plays on. Deva opens his mouth, and then closes it. Aadhya sighs again. So much flirting, yet so much obliviousness. Rama continues with the scene, saving them all. 

“What are you all doing?” Rama yelled at her soldiers, indignant that such a crime would be committed in Kotagadi of all places. Did the newcomer not have any manners? “Shoot that bastard!” She ordered. “And on that note, let me go get a refill on these chips,” Rama says, standing up from her chair and making her way up the stairs of the basement. 

Devaratha did love Varadha- Varadharaja sorry, very much. Deva coughs. As he watched Naarang scream in fear and pain, he still didn’t feel satisfied. Death was the only option for that man. “No one should touch him,” Devaratha now addressed the entire court. “Please. I. Kindly. Request.”

Baachi groans, throwing back his head. 

“Oh my god, fine,” Deva grumbles. “I’m speeding up.”

Devaratha sliced off Naarang’s head in one clean stroke. The head fell to the ground, blood spurting from the gash in its neck. 

“Rey, I have an idea. Remember when he told me to put my head at his feet earlier?” Varadha asks, and Deva nods, realizing where his friend was going with this. He gestures at Varadha to continue.

The head rolled along, coming to a stop directly at Varadharaja’s feet. The eyes looked up at Varadharaja, lifeless, and all Varadharaja could think about… was how hot that was.

Rudra wakes up from his mini nap, giving Varadha The Eyebrow. 

“Hey, he’s the one that rolled a nat 20 for seduction.” 

Rama, coming back down the stairs, chuckles. “Now I wonder if the seduction is because Devaratha is hot or if Varadharaja just secretly has a gore fetish.”

Varadha frowns. “Akka, what the hell. Well now I have to step up my game.”

Devaratha stood there, sweaty from the heat, shaking from the adrenaline of begging for his lover’s life. His figure lit a fire within Varadharaja, the height and the muscles combined made him want to peel off Devaratha’s clothes right then and there, gett-

Aadhya sighs once more, this time joined by Baachi. Why did she have to exist, only to suffer like this? Those idiots keep ignoring her, writing their own story, flirting all the time. Was she useless as a DM?

…An idea forms in her mind. She looks across at Baachi, who’s just as miserable as her as Varadha describes in detail what his character wanted to do to a flustered but enthusiastic Deva’s character. They kept being gross in front of her? She would show them. Aadhya doesn’t have to think for more than a few seconds before a plan starts forming in her mind. Baachi would have to sacrifice his character, but he probably wouldn’t mind given the end goal. 

She’ll see how they flirt their way out of wanting to kill each other. 

-

[bgomtori]

16 : jealousy? maybe..

prev | masterlist | next

written + smau !!

note: y/n gets slightly jealous, bad english.. 😭😭

as the teacher was going around the class to collect the exam scripts, you quickly stretched your aching body. who decided that it was a good idea for you guys to sit quietly, in a room for 1 hour and 50 minutes to do two math papers. for what seemed like forever, the invigilator was finally done counting the number of exam scripts, and dismissed the entire class. everyone groaned, expressing how tired they were and quickly went to their friends.

" y/n! " you turned around to see chaewon's dumbfounded look, already predicting on what she's about to say.

" WHY WAS THE PAPER SO HARD THIS YEAR. I SWEAR WHEN I FIND OUT WHICH TEACHER CREATED THE PAPER, IM GONNA GO RAMPAGE ON THEM BRO. IM ACTUALLY GOING TO LOSE IT. IM GOING TO FAIL, LIKE ACTUALLY. " chaewon whined, shaking you around. you felt that everyone was staring at you two with a weird look, you quickly apologised to the surrounding classmates, and shushed chaewon,

" shut up bro, you're so loud. at this point if you pass it'll be a miracle. " chaewon stared in disbelief,

" are you calling me stupid right now. " she folded her arms, you quickly packed your bags and bidded goodbye to chaewon before she could start physically abusing you.

you walked down the hallways towards beomgyu's classroom, pushing pass the crowd. you stared at the sign that had beomgyu's class on it, slowly peeking into the classroom. you noticed that the class was empty except for beomgyu and another girl. the girl was pissing you off, she was practically giving your man heart eyes!!! unbelievable. you decided to stay civil, not wanting to create a scene, and waited outside, staring at your phone, listening into their conversation. beomgyu noticed you peeking your head into his classroom, and immediately wanted to leave, not like he wasn't already planning an escape route from the girl confessing to him.

beomgyu felt extremely uncomfortable around the girl, despite rejecting her, she still insisted to hang out with him.

" sorry but my friend is waiting for me. " beomgyu apologised, hoping that she'll finally leave him alone, but he was so wrong.

" is it that y/n girl, what's so good about her anyways? just hang out with me beomie" the girl rolled her eyes. beomgyu stared in shock and disgust, he cringed when she called him the nickname he'd only let y/n use.

" i already said no. get that through you thick ass skull. " beomgyu said aggressively, the girl furrowed her eyebrows at beomgyu's sudden retort and backed off and quickly walked out of the classroom. beomgyu paced towards where you were waiting. he nudged you that he was done as he waved at you. you hummed in response before walking down the stairs, beomgyu followed along beside you.

" who was that girl, she's kinda weird for asking you out on an exam day.." you asked, curious, despite it not being any of your business.

" just someone who just confessed to me. apparently today was a special day to her, that's why she asked me on an exam day.. why? are you jealous? " beomgyu teased, you pursed your lips, you definitely were but you didn't want to admit it, the feeling of the jealousy butterflies really made you uncomfortable, you bit your lip hesitantly, thinking of a response.

" nope, just curious. " you replied nonchalently, beomgyu noticed your sudden pause before replying and smirked,

" mm i think you are though.. " you turned to face him with a ' what the fuck? ' look. he chuckled at your reaction, knowing that you would try to fight back, he decided to say something before you could.

" hmm, if you don't like me being asked out, why not you give me one of your hairties, i'll place it around my wrist. " beomgyu suggested, the tip of his ears turning into a slight red colour, slightly embarrassed that he said that. he waited for your response, dying to know your answer, he's been wanting to ask for your hairtie for a long time, wanting to show everyone who he belongs to. you stared at him in shock, feeling the back of your neck starting to get warm, silence thickening as you thought of a response.

" i don't mind you getting asked out.. you don't need to go to such extent.. " you answered, avoiding the stares beomgyu was giving you. beomgyu frowned, a disappointed " oh " left his mouth, which made you have second thoughts. you fiddled around with the two coincidentally matching hairties on your wrist, it was two regular black hairties with similar looking cat charms on it. you bit your lip in hesitation,

" wrist. " you mumbled out, loud enough for only beomgyu to hear. beomgyu stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in confusion. you couldn't bare the silence, embarrassment creeping in as you felt the back of your neck and cheeks grow warmer by each second under his gaze. you just grabbed his wrist and placed the hairtie around it, adjusting it nicely.

" wha- " beomgyu stared at you in slight shock. his ears turned a darker hue of red. he wanted to die at that moment, he was flustered, extremely. flustered. you give him a nervous smile,

" you're lucky i have matching ones, now people will know who it belongs to. " beomgyu felt his heart racing at a faster pace, he swore the world sround you two stopped. he paused for a good 5 seconds before noticing that you were already at the main gate, about to leave the school compound. he quickly ran towards you and sent you home like normal.

[cecilysass]

Shine On (13/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 13: Revival

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 23, 2015 9:05 am

For fifteen minutes neither of them moves.

They sit on the floor soaked in their son’s blood, Mulder’s arm limply around her, staring at the boy’s body lying before them, still and unmoving.

*** She knows they should stand up. She knows this. They should make calls. They should clean up the glass from the shattered door and the broken coffee pot. They should take showers and prepare for the house to be a crime scene.

But she can’t. She can’t look away. With his eyes closed he looks so much younger. More like a little boy, and she never saw him as a little boy. The slope of his cheeks, the delicate thin skin of his eyelids: this is what remains of her baby, that baby she loved so much and expected to raise.

His lips are stained with blood, but they are round and perfect and look just like Mulder’s. Just exactly like Mulder’s.

***

After fifteen minutes she becomes dimly aware of the sound of footsteps on the porch through the jagged maw that was once the front door, and she knows she should be concerned. She should at least turn her head to Mulder and look at him. They should appropriately evaluate the situation.

But she doesn’t lift her eyes from Jackson. She can’t, yet.

She feels Mulder’s arm pulling away from her. He seems to be trying to get eyes on the person approaching the house.

“Hello?” he calls half-heartedly. His voice is weak, almost unrecognizable. It sounds like it belongs to an old man.

The creak of footsteps grows closer, and Scully has the thought that maybe someone has come back to finish the job, to kill her and Mulder. To make sure there are no witnesses after all, despite all the cryptic statements about flesh and blood and old allies.

She reaches out and tentatively touches some of Jackson’s soft dark brown hair, in a way she never did in his life.

Maybe I deserve to die. For failing to protect him.

The footsteps crackle over broken glass as whoever it is walks into the house, walking right up next to them. Scully bows her head, allowing some tears to drop onto Jackson’s mangled chest.

She closes her eyes now. Waiting. Preparing herself for whatever additional violence is about to come.

“You’re too late,” Mulder says dully to the stranger. “He’s gone.”

Hearing his voice distantly reminds Scully of something, nudges awake a thought inside her: Mulder. Mulder is here, too. She can't just meekly watch him die. 

She forces herself to look up.

It’s not an armed man, but a petite woman in a black coat, staring down at them impassively. She doesn’t seem very dangerous.

Ah, she thinks listlessly. The mysterious Rose. What does it matter now? Scully looks back down at Jackson’s motionless face. None of his secrets matter now.

“He’s not gone,” the young woman tells them suddenly. “We need to revive him.”

Scully and Mulder say nothing at first, as though they haven’t heard what she has said. Neither of them move.

“Did you hear me?” the young woman says. “He’s not gone.”

“He is,” Mulder says shortly, his head snapping up towards her. Then he shakes his head, and his tone grows softer and more despairing. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry.”

“I would know if he were gone.” Rose’s answer rises in pitch just slightly. She looks at Mulder significantly. “Maybe you can tell, too. Try and see. Reach out.”

“Jackson hemorrhaged,” Scully replies, monotone, emotionless. Whoever this Rose is, she obviously needs to understand. “The bullet likely hit an artery. He bled out fast. There’s no possible way. He’s gone.”

“He’s not,” Rose repeats back to Scully in a fierce voice. “Try to revive him.”

“I’m a doctor,” Scully says, her voice a flat line. “I know when someone is alive or dead.”

“That’s not always true. You have to try.”

“Scully,” Mulder says, his tone suddenly different. “Let’s hear her out.”

“You feel it, too, don’t you? His shine?” Rose turns her attention to Mulder. She crouches down next to him. “You can tell he’s still here?”

“Maybe,” Mulder says quietly, his eyes bouncing from her to Scully. “Maybe. I feel … something. I can’t tell what it is.”

“A person can’t be alive after having lost so much blood,” Scully recites robotically. “He needs the blood to sustain basic life functions. He hasn’t been breathing. For fifteen minutes.”

“Jackson isn’t like other people,” Rose says. “He has a set of abilities, some of which you know about, and some of which I don’t think anyone knows about. Maybe including the ability to survive more than human beings can survive. To go into temporary stasis. Like … some of the hybrids can.”

“Like you can?” Mulder interjects softly.

“Yes. Like I can.” She turns back swiftly to Mulder. “Which is how you were misled … back then.” Her next words are low and urgent. “You can’t be misled again. Please don’t be. He’s still here, Mulder.”

“Yeah,” Mulder responds, furrowing his brow, his face beginning to come into focus, to take on an intensity Scully doesn’t understand. “Yeah.” He takes hold of her shoulder. “Scully, we need to try to revive him. Right now.”

“When we were misled back when?” Scully repeats, bewildered. “What’s she talking about? Who is she?”

“We should try CPR,” Mulder emphasizes.

“Right now,” Rose agrees. “Who will do it?”

Scully blinks, looking from Mulder’s gaze to the young woman. “Me, of course. Me.”

It feels ridiculous, sad, against every bit of training she’s ever had. To try to revive her obviously dead son feels like a pathetic act of futility.

But Mulder’s eyes are close on her, so she leans over and begins the process of trying to keep Jackson’s circulatory system alive, even knowing that for the past fifteen minutes no air has been filling his lungs and no pulse thumping through his veins.

She begins chest compressions, the sickening squelch of his pooled blood under her fingers. The only thing she can do is keep her mind empty. Don’t dwell on anything but the familiar movements. She tilts his head, giving him two rescue breaths. His mouth is still bloodied, and she tries not to think about the copper-penny taste on her lips.

Then she pulls back, watching his chest in silence to see if it moves.

It doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t.

“Nothing,” she whispers. She looks up at Mulder’s face. His eyes are on her.

“Now you do it again, right?” he asks. “That’s how it works?”

Scully twists her mouth, nods. She can’t possibly let him down, not when he is looking so hopeful. Not when she failed to protect his son to begin with. She’ll do any irrational thing he wants.

She positions her hands on Jackson’s body for the chest compressions again.

Press, press, press, press: her hands rediscover the required rhythm, the natural backbeat of life.

Each time her hands bear down she feels more hopeless. She wonders if she will break his ribs, if she will damage the body of this poor child of hers further. She tries to empty her mind again. When she can’t do that she tries to think more like Mulder; she tries to will herself into believing it might work.

All along she can feel the young woman Rose leaning tightly over her shoulder, her breath drawn. In a different situation, Scully might be curious about this. As it is, she can only focus on what she must do.

Thirty compressions, then back to the breaths. She takes careful hold of his chin and tries again, pushing air forcibly into his lungs with her own.

She brought him to life the first time, in Georgia, years ago. It was a miracle then. Maybe she can do it again.

She stops, waiting and watching.

With a sound like an inflating balloon, Jackson suddenly gasps, his eyes fluttering open.

Scully’s mouth flies open, too. Not possible. The boy’s chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, as he tries to gain control over his lungs again.

“Jackson,” Mulder says shakily. “Jackson, can you hear us?”

Scully stares. Her hands, still smudged with blood, are still extended unsteadily in front of her, as though they’re about to do more compressions. She’s afraid to trust her senses, afraid to move.

Jackson, wheezing a little, looks at Mulder and begins to cough violently, pushing himself up on his elbows. Blood foams from his mouth.

“Oh Jackson,” Scully whispers. She makes herself move, dabbing at the blood on his chin with the sleeve of the tee-shirt she’s wearing, which is covered in blood already anyway. “Jackson, it’s going to be okay.”

“I’ll get him water and a washcloth,” Mulder says, leaping up.

“What’s going on?” rasps Jackson. More blood dribbles from his mouth.

“Just wait,” Scully says in an artificially high voice. “You’re okay. You’re… going to be fine. Just let us take care of you for a moment.”

He sinks backwards again on the floor, wincing a little.

“I don’t understand. What about the entry wound?” Scully whispers in horror to Rose. “What about the bullet? Internal damage?”

“I think he must heal fast,” Rose says, sounding perplexed. “He must. You could … look at the site of bullet penetration.”

Scully reaches down and examines Jackson’s torso, visible through his ripped shirt. She runs her fingers over his rib cage, sticky with blood, but she can no longer see the site where the bullet pierced him, no source of bleeding.

“It’s completely closed,” Rose observes in a whisper. She seems to be surprised by this, too. “That makes it … hard to kill him. Maybe impossible. This changes things.”

“I got shot,” Jackson mumbles in shock. “That man shot me, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t kill you,” Scully says. She touches the hair on Jackson’s head affectionately, not caring for a moment about giving him space, not caring about the blood on her hands. “You’re alive. You’re going to be okay.”

“There’s blood … everywhere,” Jackson breathes, sounding panicky. “Is that my blood? On the floor and all over you?”

“Here’s a damp washcloth,” Mulder offers. He crouches down to hand it to Jackson. “You can wipe some of the blood off.”

“Did you save me, Rose?” Jackson croaks, accepting the washcloth and wiping his mouth.

“You saved yourself,” Rose says with a small tight-lipped smile. But, Scully thinks, Rose did save him, or at least her unlikely advice did. “You seem to have the ability to bounce back from death.”

“Wow.” Jackson stops wiping his chin. “Really?” He looks at Scully for confirmation, which she finds oddly touching. She nods weakly, and he turns back to Rose. “So I’m, like, immortal. Like a god.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Rose says, her smile brightening. “I have some of the same abilities, you know, so you’re not that special.”

Scully raises her eyes to study Rose more carefully, noting this dynamic between her and Jackson. Didn’t she imply she was a hybrid? Where did she come from? How does he know her? The girl’s eyes, alight now with happiness, are very clear and very blue.

Jackson smiles crookedly. “We’re superheroes,” he mumbles, dazed. “Like the brother and sister in The Incredibles.”

“Something like that,” Rose says. She looks like she wants to cry, but she presses her lips together into a tiny smile instead. Scully frowns, wondering. Part of her is tempted to begin pressing for information right now.

But Jackson is still so pale. First things first.

“Let me examine you, Jackson,” Scully says crisply. Nothing here is normal, everything is upside down, but her tone is all business. A personal specialty. “And let’s get you cleaned up.”

***

Jackson is remarkably healthy for someone shot a half hour ago, although he’s suffering from what Scully might describe as low level shock. After he rinses off in the shower and dresses in Mulder’s old sweat suit, they wrap him in Scully’s quilt. He sits bundled on the couch, a slightly stunned look on his face.

Scully crosses her arms over her chest, trying to formulate the right series of questions, when Mulder clears his throat and wipes his palms on his pants.

“We should probably figure some things out,” he says. All in the room look at him. There are still visible tear tracks on his face. Scully imagines there must be on hers, too. “Do we need to take Jackson to the hospital, Scully?”

“I don’t see why,” she says. “There are no signs of serious trauma. We can monitor him here.”

He nods. There’s an abrupt frigid gust of air from the hole that is the former front door, and Mulder speculatively looks it up and down. “We need to consider this problem, then. It’s freezing out,” he says, gesturing to the destroyed door frame. “I either need to find a way to make this weather proof, or we all need to relocate to a motel tonight.”

“Yes, agreed,” Scully says, nodding, trying to keep up with what he’s saying.

Rose is sitting silently on the desk chair, and Mulder walks to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “And what about you, Rose? Do we need to be worried about your immediate safety? Are there going to be more Walled Garden operatives coming for you?”

“No,” she says blankly. She looks like she is about to say more, but her eyes land on Scully. “No. I don’t think so.”

Scully’s eyes dart in the space between her and Mulder. The relationship between Rose and Jackson is perplexing enough, but this interaction is even harder to interpret. Mulder seems almost protective of Rose, like he knows her.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Scully says softly to Rose. “But … who are you, exactly?”

There’s a pause, and no one answers. Rose looks at her feet, her discomfort apparent.

“Yeah. All right, Scully,” Mulder says, placating. “We should talk about it.” She hates the tone of voice he’s using. It’s the one he uses to calm her down when he thinks she’s being unreasonable, and her question isn’t unreasonable. “I think that first I should get some plywood I have in the shed out back. Maybe I can board the door up for now. Then—I don’t know, we can sit down and talk, make a plan.”

Scully does not like this at all. But she raises her chin up and down in a reluctant nod. “Do you need help?” she says.

“Why don’t you take care of Jackson?” Mulder suggests. “Rose, why don’t you give me a hand with the plywood?”

Rose nods shortly, glancing again at Scully.

“It will just take a second,” Mulder assures Scully, clearly reading her expression and body language. “We’ll be right back. We’ll all talk.”

“All right,” she says. She stands, watching as Mulder silently bundles up in his winter coat and smiles at her, then walks out the gap into the cold morning.

Rose follows him, burrowing her hands in the pockets of her coat again. She pauses, angling backwards, and her blue eyes shoot back inside towards Scully for a moment.

Almost like the curiosity is mutual.

Scully realizes she’s gnawing on her bottom lip as she meets the young woman’s eyes. She gives Rose a cautious smile instead.

Even after both Mulder and Rose have disappeared from sight, she stands there, facing the gap in the wall.

Her hands run slowly up and down her arms. She’s wearing a clean oversized shirt of Mulder’s, but there are still streaks of dried brown blood everywhere on her skin, even in her hair, and she feels cold and uneasy. She tries to warm herself as she puts pieces together.

She thinks over what she heard Mulder say to Rose just minutes ago, about operatives from something called the Walled Garden. She wonders if that’s the same organization the hybrids who came for Jackson were from.

“I know,” Jackson says in his hoarse voice from the couch. “You hate not knowing the whole truth, even for a few minutes. Right?”

Scully has the inappropriate urge to laugh, remembering suddenly that Jackson hears all of her thoughts. She really needs to get in the habit of remembering. Feeling suddenly very tired, she walks back to the couch and sinks down next to him. He is watching her with an intent, serious expression.

“That’s right,” she admits. “Is that something you saw using your shine, Jackson?”

“Yeah,” he says, “but even if I couldn’t, I think I could tell from how your face looks right now.”

That does make her smile a little. “I’ve always tried to appear inscrutable,” she says, “but people often seem to be able to tell when I’m upset.”

“Me, too.” Jackson pulls the blanket tighter. He eyes her. “I’d like to have a poker face, but I just don’t have one. My face gives away more than I want to, I guess.”

Scully’s smile deepens. “Exactly.”

“That’s not always necessarily bad,” Jackson says.

“No,” agrees Scully. “Not necessarily.”

Jackson pulls in a breath. “Mulder’s worried about how you’ll feel about what he's going to say. He’s worried that … you’ll be upset.”

“Oh.” Scully leans her head back against the couch, feeling rising trepidation. She doesn’t look at Jackson, continuing to stare instead at the wrecked door frame. “What do you think?” The wind rattles into the heart of the house again, sending a deep-reaching chill through her. “Is he right?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson says. “Maybe.” His brows knit together. “You know… you know how you told me you’d tell me the story of your first kid—of Emily—but that it was a sad story?”

“Yes,” she says cautiously. She squints as the light filters through the front windows, becoming suddenly more starkly bright.

“Well,” Jackson says, swallowing. “It is a sad story. Just not in the exact way you thought.” He hesitates. “You know how genetic brothers and sisters sometimes have the same traits. The same abilities.”

In slow motion Scully turns her head to look at him.

“That’s what it is, I guess. Although … I don’t know if her having those abilities and me having those abilities is actually because we are brother and sister,” Jackson says. “Because she has them because she’s a hybrid. And I have them … because of some reason nobody understands.”

Scully stares at him blankly. She thinks about Rose, all sorts of details from her memories now coming into crisp focus. The strawberry blonde hair, the blue eyes. Mulder’s hand on her shoulder. Mr. Potato Head. The brother and sister in The Incredibles. How we were misled back then.

“I didn’t have any idea I had a sister,” Jackson continues. He turns to face Scully now, his voice turning secretive and important, like he wants her to know. “But I think she’s known about me for a long time. I think she’s been watching out for me. She’s the one who saved me after my parents were killed.” He’s watching her face now. “You get what I’m saying, right?”

“Yes,” she says, the word whisper soft.

But she’s not sure she does, not really. That woman, that adult woman. It couldn’t possibly be. She was dead. It had been confirmed. They knew she was dead. It was the only way she would have ever left San Diego and not looked back.

She becomes aware that Jackson’s expression is changing—his eyebrows arching, his lips drawing together. He looks concerned for her. Worried. Tender. He looks just like Mulder.

“She’s not Mulder’s kid, like I am,” Jackson says curiously. He’s clearly listening to her thoughts. “Is she?”

“No,” replies Scully again.

Jackson seems to consider this a moment. His eyes slide over to her again, worried.

“I can tell you’re upset. But … I thought you’d want to know so you didn’t wonder,” he says uncertainly. “And I thought… maybe somehow me telling you would be better than them telling you?”

He’s watching her so closely. She knows she needs to think straight here, to pull it together.

“I did want to know,” she says, her voice brittle. “And you’re right, Jackson, you telling me is better. It’s just …”

A shock. The nauseating discovery that she’s failed to be a mother for two children, not just one. That this child went from being a cherubic preschooler to a stoic young woman in black without her, with whatever chaos happening in her life, just because Scully wasn’t brave or wise enough to question what was conventional and safe.

“Okay,” Jackson says suddenly. “Come on. Jesus. Stop.”

Her eyes focus back on him, on his pale face.

“That’s what my therapist would call negative self talk,” Jackson adds, rolling his eyes self-deprecatingly. “And, uh, I’m hearing all of it.”

She feels her lip trembling. “Jackson,” she manages. “I’m sorry. It’s just …”

“Rose probably hopes that you’ll be happy to meet her now,” he says pointedly. “Because that’s a pretty good thing, right? After all this time. That you get to finally meet each other. Maybe even be … something like family. Isn’t that kind of badass? Isn’t that a pretty good thing?”

She doesn’t need a shine to see into his thoughts right now.

Silent tears are on her face, and she takes his hand in hers, squeezing it. Looking into his eyes, she lets him feel her joy, her real joy.

“It’s more than a pretty good thing,” she agrees simply. “It’s a miracle.”

She realizes, somewhat to her surprise, that she believes what she’s just said.

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly. She notices there are silent tears on his face, too. “And like the third one today, too.”

They don’t let go of one another’s hands. They wait in silence for Mulder and Rose to return.

***

[vxyio]

PJO BOOK REVIEW!!

I finished book one 🥲

The lighting Thief: completed on 3/5l2024

This book was AMAZING! I got pretty emotional for finishing this book, because it's the first book I really enjoyed and only took a week to read. It is also the first book I was exited to read (mainly because of my cousin and the pjo show) I know there's another reason on how emotional I got, but I can't put my finger on it. I had an amazing roller coaster of emotions. This book is worth the read. It was better then I expected! Different and more hilarious than I thought, but still emotional and amazing. There's so many scenes I love. I can't wait to read the next book ❤

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

The sea of monsters : started 3/5/2024 Completed:3/15/2024

GROVER IN A MADE DRESS.

This book was magnificent!!! It was a perfect mix of comedy, drama, stress, emotional moments and plot twists. Lemme just say, Tyson is so adorable 😭 he is the definition of a gentle giant (literally).He loves percy :3 he is SO sweet and TOO innocent and I find it js so AEUGGHH. So wholesome.The making of percybeth has begun 😈. I'm happy Clarisse got more time plus, she was actually helpful- The plot twists are insane 😭and I js love em! But oh my gods, the comedy. THE COMEDY. I JUST LOVE IT!!! And Thalia is backk!! Our lil emo queen! Annywho, I'm super exited to begin the next book!

The Titan's Curse: started 3/16/2024 completed: 4/1/2024

This book was AEEEHHH!!! The plot was so good and hilarious (like all of the other books). The new characters are so cool!! Nico, the hunters, even the manticore. I'm pretty sure biana died, but maybe there will been a plot twist? I don't know. Annabeths dad is SO cool like what- I'm happy percy and posiden got to chat a bit more. And dang, holding the sky? I would've died I'm 2 seconds flat. Zoe's death was so sad. She was a great brave hunter. Rip ❤.Overall this book was amazing. Can't wait to read the next book!

The battle of Lybrinth: Started 4/2/2024 Completed: 4/17/24

This book was AGGHH! It's my favorite one ove read so far! The humor is great and there were SO many HUGE and funny plot twists. I kid you not, when anabeth kissed Percy I stared into space with a flabbergasted face for like five minutes. What pissed me off a bit was after YEARS of searching for pan, HE WAS FOUND AND JS SAID "yeah I'm out"AND FLIPPING DIED. LIKE WTF PAN??!Miss O'Leary was SO CUTE I loved her from the start. And again, Percy at it with accurately naming dog breeds. I love all the new characters in the book, too. I feel like I got more to talk about but lemme JS stop yapping. I'm SO exited (and scared) to read the last book of the only series I've ever loved. 😔

The las Olympian- started: 4/18/24 completed: 5/12/24

Well...i did it. I complete the first series I've ever loved..

This story was perfect. Everything was perfect. The underwater kiss scene almost left me in tears. I live for all the teamwork that occured. I love teamwork. Rip everyone who passed. At least the couple is now together again 😭.. I understand why Percy took down the offer for being a God. I would too.honestly everything about the story is js EAAAHHH. Screaming, crying,and throwing up rn-.this story is so emotional for me.Not because it's sad. But because of the memories it gave me. I got so emotional finishing this book. The first book I ever loved.My journey is over. Well, for now.

Here's the bookmark that carried me throughout my journey.thank you

[themanwhovibez]

Alright, well, I fucking hate Tumblr, lemme tell you that! I've tried posting this about 7 times and I don't understand why it won't work. So now, unfortunately, no photos or videos are on this post, even though I really wanted to include them. I'll try on a different post ig

But either way, Transformers: One was SOOOOOO fucking good. I had a lot of worries about TFOne and how they were gonna do things within the story, especially in such a short time frame. But most of my worries were cleared up during the showing. Now, I still do have issues with the movie, but frankly I can over look all of that to focus on how much I loved. I can rant about it in a different post.

The friendship between Orion and D-16 was so sweet, I was ready to cry 3 minutes in simply because of how wholesome they were. You will be depressed by the end of this movie, I fear that's a guarantee as this movie was genuinely a break-up movie 😭

This movie was also breathtaking to look at, it was genuinely so gorgeous. There were moments where I was no longer watching what was happening within the story, but focusing on the actual scenery of the movie. Cybertron was shown in such a beautiful light, one that we really haven't gotten to see and I want to see so much more of that. I wanna see more about the plants and the life, how these things work!

Overall, I HIGHLY recommend that you watch this movie and make your own opinion. Personally, it has become one of my new favorite TF movies to come out and I'm already ready for a sequel. Hell, I even have ideas for that but I'll get into it more about with a different post.

Oh and I was able to grab an Orion poster + an extra Elita poster!!

Under the cut will be spoilers. Please don't go past if you don't wanna be spoiled!

Two of my favorite images from the movie, which I unfortunately can't include, is Orion flying towards the center of Cybertron AND the closeup of his graying body with the original Primes behind him.

I know, saying that Orion's dead body is one of my favorite images is probably a bit wild, but the image of his graying body with the original Primes behind him. The whole scene in general is so amazing to watch as both Orion and D-16 transform. Transforming into their new forms for such different reasons, where Orion is gifted The Matrix for being seen as worthy while Megatron steals Sentinel Prime's t-cog that he had originally stolen in the first place.

I was also genuinely so shocked at seeing Orion stepping in front of Sentinel Prime and taking the shot from D-16 canon. Being taken down by the very friend he came to save. The way he tumbled off the ledge, so similar during the race where D-16 was knocked off and Orion pulled him back because "We have each other's backs." D-16 muttering in such a panicked way, that small "no no no why?!" was so heartbreaking but actually seeing that betrayal was so much worse. The way D-16 only stared down at Orion, like he was realizing that if he wanted to achieve his goal, he needed to get rid of his only friend. The very thing that was holding him back. The thing that was making him soft and distracting him. God and just seeing Orion's sad expression paired with that soft "D, no.." GOD IM SO OBSESSED

I'm actually so obsessed with this movie and I'm already planning to try & go back again to see LMFAO

[geminigirl0298]

ALL THE KINGS' MEN

Relationship: Dark!Bucky x Reader, King!Loki x Reader

Summary: The Odinson Kings take over Midgard, appointing commanders to help them colonize the entire planet. Commander Barnes finds you during a raid of untouched lands and claims you as his own. You endure months of torture and abuse at the metal hand of the cruel man, and are set to suffer even more when he sends you to King Loki to break you further. Upon meeting the feared man, you find that looks can be deceiving, and rumors are not always what they seem.

A/N: Thank you to my editor @green-mischief-managed for helping me with this fic! Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, very NSFW. Fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjobs, blood and gore, torture, rape, knives, death, mutilation, choking, burning, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, vaginal sex, mentions of suicide. This fic deals with dark themes such as rape, abuse and torture. If these themes make you uncomfortable, please do not read!

Previous Chapter Masterlist

CHAPTER 16

         Lorelai.  The name rattled around in your head, pinging off your skull as you tried to discern the reason for her hostility.

         Loki’s new little friend, she said.  What was that supposed to mean?  How did she even know who you were?  And why was she looking at you like something on the bottom of her shoe?

         It irritated you, to be honest.  Derision filled yourself at her treatment, and you opened your mouth to give her a fitting reply, “I’m-”

         “Flower.”  All the tension left your body the minute you heard his voice.  His hand touched your lower back, then Loki appeared beside you.  You wrapped both your arms around his bicep and leaned into him. “Lorelai.”  

          “Loki,” she purred.  Her eyes flickered down to where you held onto his arm.  “I see you’ve brought a friend.”  

          Sharon appeared shortly after, hands folded across her chest as she took in the scene before her.  She paused a little at your close embrace with the king.  “Hey,” she whispered in your ear.  “The fuck is that?”

          “No idea.”  If Loki heard you, he did not let on.  Instead, he addressed the woman before him with a steady tone.

          “Is there a problem here?”  The look on his face made it clear this Lorelai woman had caused many, many problems in the past.  

          “None,” she told him, lifting a slender hand to caress his shoulder.  “Now that you’re here, that is.”  You shared a look with Sharon. 

            Clearly, this was the other woman those two girls told you about that night in the harem.  The red hair was a clue, but the familiarity with which she spoke to and touched him was the giveaway.  

           “I’m only here for the summit.”  Loki removed her hand, face still blank.  “I would thank you not to cause any trouble while we’re here.”  Lorelai’s face curled up into a smile.

            “Trouble?” she echoed.  “That’s more your thing, isn’t it, Loki? Though, I suppose we’ve both had our fair share of fun together.” 

            Together. You didn’t like the way she said that word.  

          “That was in the past,” Loki’s voice was curt.  “I’ll not put up with your shenanigans this time.  I’d thank you to take your leave now, as I’ve some important business to attend to.”

             Lorelai did not look at him. Her eyes flickered to you instead, running over your form once more.  Finally, she settled on your eyes.  You stared back without wavering.  She seemed to like that.  

            “You’re probably right.  It’s quite clear there’s to be no more fun between us.”  She smiled- not unkindly, which confused you further- and turned on her heel, then she was retreating down the hall in a flurry of green skirts.

              “Well,” said Sharon, breaking what was about to be an uncomfortable silence, “that was eventful.” She turned to the king then, fixing him with a cool stare.  “I hear you have something to say to me.”  

ooOOoo

          Sharon Carter was a no-nonsense woman. Loki noticed that the minute he saw her approach you.  He watched how she glared at Lorelai, whom she did not know, simply because the woman was a nuisance to you.  He watched her link her arm in yours and lead the way to the library he intended to use for their chat — though he was unsure how she knew which one — and trailed behind, feeling quite out of sorts.   

          He had grown used to you always wanting to be by his side.  It was silly, he chided himself.  Sharon was your friend.  He was your…What were you?  Your friend for sure, but something more.  Something softer, sweeter; something that—

          “I’ve been told you want to speak to me.”  Sharon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.  They were in the library now, with Sharon leaning against the table. You stood awkwardly between them, eyes darting from one to the other.  “Out with it.”

          You frowned. “Sharon-”

          “No, it’s okay,” Loki assured you.  “It’s fine.”  He turned his attention to Sharon, all five foot eight of blonde hair and reproachful expressions.  “I wish to apologize,” he began, “for the part I’ve played in your suffering. There is nothing I can say or do that will erase what you’ve—”

         “I don’t like you.”  Loki stopped, lips paused at the beginning of the word he never got to say.  “I really, really don’t like you,” Sharon continued, “and I don’t care for your apologies. I don’t care if you feel bad and I don’t want to hear any of your rehearsed lies.  You want something from me.  Spare me the theatrics and just tell me what it is.”

            And for maybe the third time in his life, Loki was at a loss for words. He had an entire speech planned.  Of course, he meant every word.  A younger, lesser version of him might appeal to her emotions to sway her to his side. Valhalla knows he had done it many times before, but not now, not knowing what he knew.

          Luckily for him, you seemed to know exactly what to say.   You glided over to Sharon and took her hands in yours.  “It’s not like that,” you murmured.  “We need your help, Sharon.  Loki thinks that some of the commanders were stealing from Asgard.”

          “Stealing what?” Sharon wanted to know.

           “A flower.”

            Chocolate eyes swung to him.  “A flower? And what do you presume they did with this plant, your majesty?”

           “They used it to kill my mother.”  Now, she went silent, and Loki continued.  “That was why I took over Midgard in the first place.  Someone from your realm was able to steal a flower from a heavily guarded place under the watchful eye of Heimdall, and they used it to kill my mother.  After that, I decided humans needed to be put in check.”  His eyes flickered to you;  to your sweet face full of nothing but understanding.  “I was wrong.”

            “Loki just wants to help,” you explained.  “He knows what he did was wrong and he can’t take it back.  He knows this was his fault, but Sharon, things are bad.  The Commanders are afraid of Loki, yes, but they hate him.  That hatred made them kill a goddess!”

         “I agree they need to be stopped, but I’m not sure how I can help you.”  Most of the bite had gone out of Sharon’s voice, replaced with an emotion akin to fatigue. Loki concluded the babe she obviously carried was partly the reason and made a mental note to get his healers to check on her before the day’s end.  

         “We need information,” Loki told her.  “Any information.  Did Captain Rogers ever receive any shipments unaccounted for?  Ever see him meeting at weird times with anyone?” Sharon folded her arms in thought.  

         “He was off with James a lot.  If you ask me, I’d say they were secretly in love.”  You and Sharon shared a look before she continued.  “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you where Steve went.  He never brought anything strange into the house, and even if he did, I’d never ask him. I knew better than to go looking.” 

           She stopped speaking.  A flicker of doubt crossed her face. Loki pounced on it immediately.  “What? You’ve just remembered something.  What is it?”

          “Loki.”  The admonishment came from you.  “Give her a chance.  Sharon,” you grabbed her hands again, “is there something you remember?  Anything you can tell us will be of help.”

          “There’s a room back home he never let me in.  I wasn’t supposed to see it, since it was hidden.”  Loki lifted a brow. 

          “Hidden?  Hidden how?”

           Sharon’s eyes roamed the room.  They stopped on an oak bookshelf spanning the entirety of the opposite wall.  “There’s a shelf in his study. Full of books he never reads.  One day, I was dusting the books and pulled a few out.  I can’t be sure which one did it, but there was a click, and the shelf moved out of the way.”

          “What happened next, Miss Carter?”

            She shrugged. “Nothing.  Steve came back and I told him I found it and he made me promise not to go back. He put a camera in and locked the door to the study.  I figured it was more trouble than it was worth.  We did move into an old SHIELD base that was refurbished.  It wasn’t uncommon to have hidden rooms.”

           “Did you get a peek inside?” Loki asked, though he knew the answer before Sharon shook her head.  “These flowers are magic. They can live even after they’ve been plucked. If he was keeping them in there—��

           “I’m not going back into that house,” Sharon interjected.  “I’m not going back. Especially not with James there.”

           “James.”  Loki stiffened.  “James is on earth?”  He cursed under his breath. It was a terrible idea to speak to Sharon before informing you of his conversation with Fandral.  “Loki, you told me he was being sent around the realms.  How did he get back on Earth?”

          “I’ve no idea,” he answered you.  “Fandral only just informed me of this.  I was going to tell you after we finished here.”  He looked at Sharon.  “You do not have to return to Earth.  Starting today, you are officially under the crown’s protection. You can stay here or return to the palace with us when it is time to do so. Your unborn babe shares the same protection.”  

          “Who killed his father?”  Sharon asked suddenly.  “Was it an accident?  I can’t imagine it was.”  Loki’s silence was enough.  “Of course”

           “To be fair, the intent wasn’t to kill him.”

            Sharon gave him a look.  “What was the intent?”

             “Questioning,” Loki replied.  “Maybe a little torture.  Can’t always tell how these things will go.”  At his admission, he swore the woman almost smiled. The corners of her lips twitched up a bit before she pulled them back into a neutral expression.

            “Well, this has been an enlightening conversation.  I think it’s time for me to head to bed.  This little one,” she rubbed her stomach, “always has me beat these days.”

            “Do you want me to walk you to your room?” you offered.  “Or stay with you?”

              “No, I think you both have things to talk about.”  No explanation was needed to discern what she meant.  “I really need some rest.”  She made her way to the door, stopping when she was nearly out in the hall.  “Your majesty, I’ve been told you’re quite taken with my friend.  You’re both adults, so I can’t tell you what to do, but if you hurt her, I will hurt you.”  

           Loki smirked at that.  The fire he received from the blonde woman was the first thing that led him to believe a cordial partnership was on the horizon.  Her snarkiness was not unwelcome, and he might have cracked a smile had you not approached him with worry creasing your face. 

         “James is back?”  Trembling hands reached for him, prompting him to pull you close to his body.  “Loki, James is back. What are we going to do?”

          “You are not going to do anything. He cannot touch you from Earth.”  Loki rubbed his hands in a soothing pattern, up and down your arms until your shaking stopped and your forehead rested against his collarbone. 

         “He’s going to be so angry,” you whispered.  Your breath tickled the base of his throat as you spoke.  The warmth raised goosebumps on his flesh, making his eyes roll back at the proximity of your mouth to his body.  You had such pretty lips. “He’s always so mad at me.” 

         Loki cleared his throat.  He shoved his pervasive thoughts to the back of his mind and cupped the back of your head.  “He will not lay a hand on you. This I have promised you before, and I promise it to you now.”  You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.  “James cannot make it to Asgard on his own.  Heimdall will see him coming if he tries, and he’ll be arrested at the bridge.  He will not hurt you again.”

           A tear fell from your eye.  Loki brushed it away with a gentle stroke, following it with two more.  He held your face and kissed your forehead, allowing you to cry into his brand-new tunic.  It was the first time you ever let him comfort you through your tears, and he was struck by just how much you had come to consider him.  In many ways, you were not just the woman who flinched at a touch and walked around as though in a trance. You were becoming much more, and Loki felt glad that he seemed to have contributed to that in some way.

          “Loki?” 

           “Yes, flower?”

          You sniffled. “Who is Lorelai?”  Ah.  “An old girlfriend?”  He almost laughed at the mundane word.  

         Loki did not have girlfriends or boyfriends.  He had lovers, men and women and all in between with whom he shared a mutual attraction and partook in pleasures of the flesh.  There were often no real feelings on his part.  He would ride out whatever time he spent with them until they wanted more, which he could not give, or they moved on to another. And he never once regretted letting them go.  His heart could never seem to get involved. 

       That was until he met you.

       “Lady Lorelai is an old lover of mine,” he told you.  “Troublesome, meddlesome, and as good a liar as myself. Except, she takes it too far.”

         Your brow creased with fret. “She knows who I am, Loki.  She knows who I am and I’ve never met her before.”

           “Lorelai likes to keep tabs on me. She is as proud as she is envious, and I can admit now that getting involved with her was a mistake.”  He took your hand and led you over to lean against the desk.  “You’ve nothing to worry about.  Lorelai may think she is a threat, but she has long fallen out of favour with me.  And she does not have the use of her gifts anymore.”

         “Gifts?” you repeated. “What gifts?”

          Loki lifted your hand to his chest.  He held it there, smoothing his thumb over your well-nourished skin.  “Lorelai has the ability to bend men to her will.  She is able to do so with just her voice.  Of course, it depends on the will of the man.  Lesser wills are easily broken. Stronger ones, not so much.”

          “And I suppose you were a much harder conquest?”  You looked up at him from beneath your lashes, eyes filled with a hint of teasing.  

          “I’m immune to most magic, being one of the most advanced sorcerers across the realm.”  He could not help but puff out his chest a bit.  “Lorelai’s was still tricky to navigate. After we ended things, she began stirring up trouble.  Made an inordinate amount of men do her bidding. I am entirely sure she could have caused an uprising if she wanted.”

          Alarm crossed your face then, making Loki regret his words.  “Do not be worried,” he assured you.  “Lorelai was stopped. My mother made a charm bracelet that she is forced to wear by order of the king. It dampens her magic so she cannot use it on people even if she tried.”

          “And she really can’t use it?”  The fingers of your hand, which he had not let go, were now intertwined with his.  He wondered if you even noticed.  “She really agreed to wear it?”

          Loki chuckled.  “It was that or a rather unbecoming muzzle that prevented her from speaking at all.  Vanity is as vanity does. At least the bracelet looks rich enough.”  His eyes dipped to your hands- fingers woven together as though they were the threads of life themselves.  Loki never cared much for silly displays of affection before. Now, he found himself wondering if the spaces between his fingers were crafted specifically for yours to fit. 

           “You must be tired from the journey,” he said.  “Would you like to rest before the dinner?  I can come fetch you later.”  He moved your hands to your sides- still connected- and began leading you out the door.  “I took the liberty of getting us adjoining rooms.  Please tell me if it was too presumptuous.  I just thought you would feel safer with me nearby.”

          “No, that’s fine,” you said, and he could tell by your smile he had made the right choice.  “What time is the dinner?”  

           “I will send someone to fetch you an hour or so before.  Our rooms are just down here.  Come.”

 ooOOoo

          As it turned out, Loki was right. The rest did you a world of good.  You weren’t sure how long you slept, but by the time a servant came in to wake you and help get you ready, it was nearly dark outside.

          Night descended quite differently on Asgard.  On Earth, the sun would set into a brief dusky grey before the darkness actually fell.  Here, the sky seemed to come alive.  The disappearance of the sun heralded hues of purples and blues that seemed to reflect the ocean below.  The black night fell like a blanket, dotted with stars so bright you often had to look away before your eyes began to burn.  It was truly the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

          “Lady Dee?”  The maidservant’s voice drew your attention away from the window.  “You have a visitor.  The king.”  You smiled. 

          “He can come in.  I’m nearly finished.  You can go have your supper now.”  She curtsied before you just as Loki walked in, dressed to the nines in formal garb.  His trademark smirk was on his face. 

           “Flower.”

            “Loki.”

            His eyes roamed over you from head to toe.  You were, of course, wearing one of the many new dresses he’d sent you, this one a simple gold, made of silk held up by delicate chain straps with a cowl neck.  The rest of the dress hung off your body like a waterfall, showing off just enough of your newly filled-out figure. “You look wonderful.  Something is missing, though.  Would you turn around?”

         The maidservant was long gone, the door closed to give the two of you some privacy.  Loki handed you a silver-backed mirror to hold to keep your neck in focus.  In his other hand, the necklace from earlier appeared.  He approached you from behind, so close you could feel the ends of his tunic poking into your back.

        “Lift your hair for me, darling.”  You almost moaned when you felt his breath on your neck.  He fastened the necklace with practiced perfection, and you were pleased to find it blended quite well with the dress you chose.  It sat nestled above the neckline, adding an extra air of refinement to the plain dress.  “Perfect.”

          “It’s lovely.”  Loki moved your hair back in place as you admired the jewelry.  As he did so, you noticed the bracelet you bought him secured on his wrist.  “Hey,” you caught at his arm, “you’re wearing it.”

           “I told you I would.”  He let his hand rest on your bare shoulder.  “Would you look at that,” he mused.  “They match.”

           They really did.  The emerald eyes of the golden serpents glistened in the light as though alive, and they were the exact same shade as the teardrop emerald in your piece.  “Did you do this on purpose? The necklace?”  

         Your eyes met in the mirror and he grinned.  “Maybe.”  He moved some hair away from your ear, lips encroaching on the space near your lobe.  “Or maybe, I just wanted to see my colours on you.”

        Oh fuck.  Loki had flirted with you before, but it was never as intimate as this.  His voice had never before dropped this low, nor did his eyes appear so heavy.  And his thumb had certainly never run across the skin of your shoulder and up the side of your neck as it was doing now.

         “We don’t have to attend the dinner,” he told you.  “I can always have it brought here.  It’s just a formality anyway.”

         You thought for only a second.  “You can do that?”  

          “I’m the king,” he reminded you.  “I can do most anything I want.”

           The mirror vanished from your hand.  Loki released your shoulder, opting to take your hand and give you a little spin.  You giggled as he twirled you and then pulled you against him.  Your hands went around his neck to steady yourself while his rested on your waist.

         “What do you say?” he asked.  “Do you wish to endure a boring dinner, or do you want to stay here with me?”

          “I—”

          A knock on the door interrupted your acceptance of his proposal.  The annoyance on his face as he let you go to answer the door no doubt mirrored your own. Fandral was standing at the door when it opened.  He gave you a cheeky smile before addressing the king.

         “Loki,” he greeted in that grand way of his.  “The Lady Sharon has agreed to your plan.  She thinks it best to go at once, with your approval, of course.”

         You had joined Loki at the door now.  While you weren’t sure what plan they referred to, you could tell any plans you had for the evening were now fully squashed.  “What’s going on?  What plan?”

         “I wish to search the hidden room in Rogers’ house. I sent word to Lady Sharon while you were asleep.  In honesty, I had not expected her to agree so quickly.”

         “Oh.”  That was the only word you could seem to get out in response.  “Are you going?”  You didn’t want him to go. As silly as it sounded- because you knew he could protect himself- you were worried for his safety if he were to go to Earth. 

          Loki shook his head.  “I’m not going. I’m sending a few men so as not to arouse suspicion.  They’ll be in and out and none will be the wiser, but I must brief them, meaning-” 

          “You’ll be late for dinner.”  It was much easier to say this than make Fandral privy to your real plans.  “It’s okay.  If there is something in that room that can connect them to your mother, it’s better to do it now.”  You placed your hands on Loki’s arm.  “Go on ahead. I suppose I’ll go to the dinner for the time being.”

         “I’ll be back,” Loki promised. He brought your hand to his lips for a kiss— the second that day alone— and you could not help but wonder when he would make advances towards another type of kiss.  “I’ll see you soon.  

ooOOoo

             Dinner was a fantastic affair.  Lords and ladies sat around an enormous table filled with more food than you had ever seen, dressed in the finest jewels and clothes.  Laughter filled the hall and conversation flowed.  At one point, a friendly fight broke out: two lords drunk off mead, both wanting to show off their newly crafted swords. And yet still, you were bored out of your mind

            There was a goblet of Asgardian ale in your left hand.  One of the servants kept refilling it at intervals.  The taste did not particularly delight you, but you sipped it to give yourself something to do.  At first, you were intent on waiting for Loki to return, but three courses and five ales later, you noticed the meeting would not soon end. 

           Either way, you were finished here.  You pushed your chair back and exited the dining room, goblet still clutched in hand.  A kind servant topped you up on your way out.  You thanked him with a smile and began the long walk to your room.  Maybe, if you were lucky, you would still be awake long enough for Loki to return.  You could both spend whatever was left of the night talking until you fell asleep like you did at the palace. 

         “Lady Dee,” purred a familiar voice. You paused, squinting ahead to see who it was.  Lorelai appeared before you in a green dress with her red hair done up in an exquisite bun.  You soured a bit upon seeing Loki’s colour draped all over her.  “I thought that was you.”

         “‘Tis me.”  You noted then, to your embarrassment, that your ‘s’ was a bit slurred. 

          “Why do you hold your head in that manner?” Lorelai enquired.  You did find her to be a little askew.  Actually, your entire field of vision was off-kilter, and you straightened your head with a flush of your cheeks.  “Gotten into the ale, I see.”

           You placed the cup at your side.  “I’ve had alcohol before.”

            “Not Asgardian alcohol, I’m sure.  This packs quite a punch.  Nothing on Earth can compare to it, although I suppose you might have realized Midgardian spirits have little to no effect on you.”

           In truth, you just thought you had an abnormally high tolerance. The vodka back home would burn your throat, but that was as far as it went.  “Did you need something from me?”

          “I wanted to apologize.”  She sounded so sincere you almost believed her.  “By now, you’ve heard that Loki and I were involved.  He was special to me, and it was very hard for me to let him go.  Sometimes, I get a bit in my head when I find out he’s seeing someone new.”  She paused to give you a look.  “You are seeing each other, aren’t you?”

           Your answer did not come soon enough, and she noticed your hesitancy.  It delighted her, you could tell, evident by the little quirk of her eyebrows.  “Seems I was wrong-”

           “We’re taking things slow,” you blurted.  “Loki and I.”  Lorelai laughed. 

            “Slow?  Loki does not take things slow.  He was taking me over the desk of his study daily within the first week of us meeting.”  She let out a dreamy sigh, making your stomach churn.  It also could have been the ale, but you felt queasy either way.  “He’s a very good lover.  Once, he tied me up and—”

           “I do not wish to hear of your past with Loki.  Some things should be kept private.”

           “Well, privacy isn’t always Loki’s strong suit.  In time, you’ll come to find he doesn’t mind an audience.”  She looked you up and down.  “Or maybe, you won’t. Since you’re taking things slow.”

            You rolled your eyes. Lorelai was a bitch, and you didn’t need to stand here and take this.  “I’m leaving. Loki’s waiting for me.”

            “Is he?  I just came from the library and heard him in a meeting.  Sounds like he has more important things on his mind.”  She ended her statement with a frown so sad you couldn’t tell if she was faking it.  “Why don’t you come back to the dinner with me?  I’m sure many gentlemen would love the pleasure of your company.”

          “I don’t want them.  I want Loki.”  Petulance abounded in your voice. You were aware you sounded like a spoiled child, but you could not care.  

          Lorelai hummed. “My dear,” her hands came to rest on your arms, “I’ve already told you Loki is in a meeting. He’s busy!  Why would you want to bother him?”  She let her hands wander to the end of your hair.  “He doesn’t like to be bothered.”

          “But he won’t mind,” you protested.  “He never minds me.”  At least, he never had before. 

           “This is a beautiful necklace,” she complimented.  Her slim fingers traced the chain around your neck.  “Did Loki give it to you?  He does have a thing for giving his women jewelry.”  She lifted her wrist to show you the golden bracelet dotted with rubies.  “He gave this to me.  Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

          You pushed her hands off of you.  The goblet in your hand fell to the floor, splattering drink all over your dress.  “You’re lying!  Loki’s mother put that on you because of your powers.  It’s not the same.”  Lorelai smirked. 

           “Loki’s mother enchanted the bracelet.  I already had it, because it was a gift from him.”  She twisted her hand in the air to show off the piece.  “I love rubies. He knows me so well.”

           “I’m leaving,” you told her.  “I don’t believe any of your lies.”  

              “But you believe Loki’s so easily,” she countered.  “I can’t blame you. He is the God of them, after all, and he tells them so well.  Who can blame a sweet girl like you for falling for him?”

           The way she spoke to you made your blood boil. It was as though you were a child with no brain of your own and all the naivety in the world. This woman- so proper and prim- had no idea the terrors your faced. She didn’t know of your life, or that you knew well the nature of men probably even better than her. 

          “I must go,” you announced.  “Loki and I have plans.”  You pushed past her without a second thought.

          “Wait!”  She grabbed your hand, grip strong like a vice.

          “Let go of me!”

           “Has he kissed you, at least?”  Her fingernails dug into your skin, leaving deep crescents of pain in their wake.  “Has he?”  Her lip curled, nostrils flaring into the ugliest look of contempt.  “Has he pressed those liar lips up against yours—”

          “Fuck you!”  You wrenched your hand from her grasp and ran.

ooOOoo

             Sometimes, Loki hated being the king.  He remembered the times when he was a young prince, when he coveted the throne and envied his brother’s place in line for it. He recalled all the mischief he made to get the crown.  Now that he had it, he often had vivid fantasies of stomping it under his foot.

           The crown meant power. The crown meant he and his brother were untouchable, but also in the most precarious position of their lives. Everyone wanted their favour or heads — to serve the throne or capture it for themselves. The crown was as dangerous as it was secure, but right now, all he cared about was that it had ruined his plans with you. 

         It took longer than usual to get the men briefed.  They had never been in the house before, so he had to start by mapping the area and the building.  Sharon’s intel was of good use, and he only wished he could wake her for more.  Yet, he was loathe to bother her in her condition.  Now that the meeting was over, he only wanted to see you.  

         So it was just his luck that he happened to see you walking up the hall just as he was coming down.  “Flower.”  You did not answer him.  In fact, you looked rather destroyed. 

          Long tears cut a path down your face, falling from red eyes all the way to a trembling mouth.  Your hands were clasped tightly together at your waist, and he could see a light sheen of sweat on your skin.  “Flower? Whatever is the matter?”  He reached out to you. You pulled away. 

          “I’m tired,” you said.  “I want to sleep.”  Your voice cracked with emotion as you told the lies he so easily sussed out. 

           “I do not think that is true.”  He spoke as though tending to a wounded child.  “You’re upset. Please tell me what happened.”  He spied it then— five long scratches running down your arm.  “What is this?” He gestured to the angry redness of your skin.  “Who did this?” 

           Your eyes dipped to your hand as though noticing the marks for the first time. “I ran into Lorelai—”

            “Lorelai.”  Fury burned in his chest.  He reached out to take your hand, and this time you did not stop him.  “I knew she was jealous, but I did not think she would attack you-”

           “Why won’t you kiss me?” you cried.

           Loki was so shocked he released your hand.  “What?”

           You threw your hands up. “Why won’t you kiss me?  Lorelai says you used to be all over her all the time.  She said you were always having sex, and you’re not one to take things slow.  I thought you liked me!”

          “I do!” Loki replied in a hushed tone.  “I do like you, flower. Why was Lorelai even speaking to you about me in the first place?  I told you she lies.”

          “But you said you were together!”  You wagged a finger at him, and it was then he smelled the ale on you. “You said that! So I know she’s not lying.  She also said you gave her jewelry, too, just like you did to all your women.”  You touched the necklace you wore.  “Is that what this is? A habit?”

          Never in his life had he wanted to strike a woman the way he wanted to smack Lorelai right now.  He knew he should have left her in that dungeon.  Alas, he was young, and that youth led him to convince his father to release her under condition.  She was going straight back as soon as he found her.

           “Darling, you need to tell me exactly what Lorelai said. She’s very good at twisting words and situations-”

           “Oh!” Anger flared on your face.  “And I’m just some silly little girl who didn’t know she was even Asgardian, so obviously I’d fall for it.”

          Loki gaped.  “That’s not-”

        “It’s because of James, isn’t it?” you asked, and his eyes widened at the accusation. “You don’t want to kiss me because of him.  You think I’m spoiled!  Rotten and raped and abused and dirty-” You stopped suddenly, back going rigid.

          “Flower?”  He was too afraid to touch you.  Instead, he let his hand hover near you in case you felt the need to take hold of it.  “Flower, are you okay?”

            In response, you hunched forward and vomited all over his shoes.

ooOOoo

           You had never been this humiliated.  Not even through James’ abuse, through him laughing at your pain and suffering, did you ever feel this level of mortification.  If you had to guess why, you’d say it was because you’d done it to yourself.  You drank the ale, you allowed yourself to be tricked by Lorelai and you threw up all over Loki’s shoes.

         To his credit, Loki did not flinch once.  He simply kicked off his now ruined shoes and led you barefoot back to your adjoined rooms.  From there, he instructed you to take a bath while he got some servants to clean up the mess you made. The bath did help some, but the hot, lavender-scented water was not enough to wash away the shame you felt.  By the time you were finished, you only wanted to sleep and pretend this night never happened. 

          Loki was waiting for you when you were done.  You stepped out in your sleeping robe to find him placing a tray near your bedside table.  He turned over his shoulder to look at you.  “Come.”

          You cast your red eyes down as you approached the bed.  Loki pulled back the covers without a word, allowing you to enter.  He then tucked them around you and took a seat at your side.  “Drink this,” he handed you a glass with a clear, fizzy liquid.  “It will help prevent any headaches and further nausea.  Drink it all.”

          While you drank, he took ahold of your hand.  He let his fingers hover over the marks inflicted by Lorelai, and one by one, they disappeared. It was like pulling a blanket over the lines, completely obscuring them from view until only unblemished skin remained.  “Thank you.”

          “You’re welcome.”  He took the empty glass from you.  “Rest your head.  Gentle now.”  He ran the back of his hand over your check, moving it all the way up until his palm rested on your head.  “I’m sorry I was late to the dinner.  I wish I could have prevented Lorelai from happening upon you.”  

           “It’s not your fault,” you whispered.  “I should’ve never listened to her.  I was wrong.”  You wiped a tear from your eye.  

             “Yes you were,” Loki agreed, much to your surprise.  “You were wrong when you said that I have any sort of avulsion towards you due to the sufferings you have endured.  The reason I am often careful with you, the reason I do not take liberties, is not because I find you repulsive. Rather, I want to ensure I do not cross any of your boundaries.  The speed at which I am courting you is not for lack of wanting.”

          “I never should’ve said that,” you told him, still reeling from his admission that he was, in fact, courting you.  “I was just angry.  Lorelai got into my head.”

           “As she is wont to do,” Loki finished.  “I will deal with her at a later time. Yes, I got her the bracelet.  Lorelai likes expensive things, and I often oblige to my lovers’ wants.  You have to remember this was a very long time ago.  My feelings for Lorelai were nothing but lust. Everyone I got involved with knew that.  We haven’t even spoken since we ended all those years ago.”

           “I understand.”

            Loki leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You could not even muster up the annoyance that it was, once again, not your lips.  “Do not ever think less of yourself because of what was done to you. It was not your fault. James will be dealt with as soon as possible and as safely as possible. All of my efforts right now are diverted toward bringing him to justice without getting you more involved than you already are. Have some patience with me, and you will soon see that”.

           You nodded, unable to form any words after the complete spectacle you had made of yourself.  

            “And one more thing,” Loki said.  He lowered his face to yours, so close your noses touched.  “If you wanted me to kiss you, all you had to do was say so.”  

        And with that, he pressed his lips to yours.  

Chapter 17

Taglist: @howdidurhammergrowchris @thedistractedagglomeration @soxysarah92 @vicmc624 @mischief2sarawr @scram1326 @booksandbenbarnes @lalalalokii @marvel-universe-of-masterlists @mistress-ofmagic @lokiismygodalone @cjand10 @sweetdreams25 @justlovelifeblog @mad4marvelloki @multifandom-world8 @sallymagnoliaposts @user13cabs @my-love-of-books @benwishaw @oceanmermaidwitch @alexakeyloveloki @midnightvitality @meyocoko @dren-whalen @jbarness @kattreffic @orangechickenpillow @dreamyrainy @trickster-maiden @freshfruitforrottingvegetablez @james-bucky-barnes-bitch @dark-night-sky-99 @somegirlfromasgard @yoongissidebitchh @findmedontlooseme @xstonedxslasher @johnmurphysass @lost-forest-heart @lovecleastrange @vickie5446 @silverfire475 @trickster-maiden @megumisbabymomma @bunny24sstuff @blog-the-lilly @ari-writes-sometimes @bean-bean2000

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,087

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17. ⬇

Chapter 18.

Notes: I may have rushed to write this chapter - I wanted to play Baldur's Gate 3 tonight -, but I was SO! WAITING! FOR THIS MOMENT AAAAAAAAA IT'S FINALLY HERE-

I've had the last few paragraphs locked away in the depths of my brain for an entire month!!

That one scene in my mind was the reason I've started writing this fanfic. 😂

The plot thickens. It'll be very intense. I'll love it! 😈

Hopefully you will like it, too. Or not. Either way, I love to read your thoughts! 😁🖤

Chapter 18: The Vampire Ascendant

She should've expected that Gortash had plans for that day.

A tailor came over that morning to fit her for a dress that she was pretty sure she never would've put on otherwise. It was a black evening dress, with a way too low cut down her back which was covered with thin lace, and the entire dress was decorated with golden thread embroidery, depicting dragons – very similar to the ones that Gortash had on the collar of his leather coat.

"I'm not putting this on", she protested when the tailor finished and left them alone in one of the audience chambers.

"First of all, I've put hours into the design", Gortash started, and she stared up at him in disbelief.

"You designed it?"

"-secondly, I've paid a lot for it to be made."

"I hate it when you're spending money on me", she motioned towards him, then at the dress. "Can't I just settle for something I can get for myself?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Just accept it. It's a gift."

"Why are you doing this to me?!" Tav whined, running a hand in her hair.

Five minutes of arguing later, though, she begrudgingly let Gortash chase her into yet another thing she wouldn't've done otherwise. It really was a beautiful dress, she loved it the moment she saw it – she just didn't like that he spent so much on her.

The guest list was unknown to her, but she had to go with him after lunch to check the hall where the ball would be held. The servants were busy preparing everything to be perfect; of course, the main colours were black and gold again, full with – yet unlit – black candles and a way too big space in the middle, with tables near the doors to the balcony. The tables already had some of the drinks on them. Gortash was busy talking to some of those who were responsible for the event itself, and Tav glanced up at the ceiling which was, in fact, beautifully done in colourful glass.

When she stopped in the middle of the room and looked around, seeing that the place would be able to hold a lot of people, noticing the prepared musical instruments in one of the corners, it just occurred to her that there was yet another task Gortash would demand from her that day.

Dance.

Tav paled.

The last time she danced with Wyll came in her mind. She was beyond hopeless, even if she just followed Wyll. Given her past and her training as a Paladin, she had little to no time for such fine arts. Frankly, she didn't even care about it.

That was something Gortash knew by heart by now. He'd spent enough time around nobles and must've attended their stupid parties to know how to move amoung them. But her? She'd be the world's most disappointing dance partner he ever had.

The panic rapidly built in her lower abdomen until she started to feel positively nauseaous. That was when Gortash stopped beside her and glanced up at the glass ceiling, too.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He asked her quietly. "You should see it during a full moon. The colours are so different then."

Tav's throat went dry. She glanced at him, but he was still enjoying the view, and she just realised that he looked about ten years younger. Observing his face, she noticed just now that her mere presence smoothed out his usual frown.

She cleared her throat and looked back up at the ceiling.

"I'm not dancing."

Her words had a remarkable effect on him. He laughed.

"No?"

"No."

"Well, that's too bad. I'm hosting this event, which means I'll have to do the opening dance."

"I'm afraid you'll have to do it alone", Tav tutted, half turning away.

Gortash grabbed her right hand and pulled her back to himself.

"No", she whispered, "not in front of… everyone…"

"Baldur's Gate's finest men and women will see you with me tonight, anyway."

Shit. Of course, he was right. Tav wanted to run away, but Gortash led her movements as he wished, making her realise that following him wasn't that hard.

As it wasn't hard to follow him in every other thing he did, too.

"See? It's not that hard. You're doing it well", he smiled at her gently, making her heart flutter. "Just follow my lead."

Just follow his lead.

Hours later, on the way to the hall, she kept telling that to herself. Her hand rested on his lower left arm; the gold that covered his arms felt cold to her touch. As grounding as that felt, she'd never been more nervous.

"How are you feeling?" He asked her as they stopped in front of the door.

"I think I'm going to throw up", she admitted.

"You'll have to get used to this", Gortash moved his clawed right hand up to her face. She allowed servants to apply some makeup on her face, as well as tend to her hair, styling it into a decorative bun with several braids at the back of her head, so the back of her dress could be seen. Compared to Gortash's high collar at the back of his head, she looked more approachable, less dominant and less intimidating. Which was probably the whole idea. Gortash hooked his index finger under her chin and brought her closer to himself. "You need to see your subjects."

"I don't like to think of people that way", she murmured.

"That's what they will be. Our obedient puppets." As his clawed thumb ghosted over her lower lip, she faintly remembered that there was someone else who said those words, but his touches were distracting her mind. "Every time I look at you, I can't believe how lucky I am."

That finally made Tav smile.

"You flatter me, Your Grace."

"And you honour me, my dear." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and she felt like she'd melt at it. "Come. If you don't want to mingle on your own, just keep smiling and follow me. I'll introduce you to everyone important."

"Just one thing", she murmured before she reached up to his shirt. He frowned slightly when he felt her using the rope to pull it properly closed. "There."

"Was this absolutely necessary?" He raised a brow. "I liked it that way."

"At least have it like this now. We're seeing important people, after all."

"I've had it like that when I became the Archduke."

Tav tilted her head cheekily.

"You looked delicious like that, but I'm afraid if a lot of people are checking you out at that area tonight, I might become a vicious murderer."

"Oh?" He chuckled, moving his left arm around her waist to pull her in close. "I'll have to see that one day."

"Trust me, you don't want to", she warned him quietly, trying to ignore how the air between them changed yet again, positively snizzling with passion they both had to hold back.

"You'll have a long, long night tonight", he warned her, making her sigh.

"…is that the hilt of your dagger or are you just happy to see me?"

"You really need to ask?"

"Enver! Do we need to fetch a glass of cold water for you?"

They kissed, and they laughed in that kiss, feeling light and careless.

Perhaps it was too good to be true.

"Shall we get to it, then?" Tav murmured when they finally could break away from each other. "The sooner the guests leave, the better for both of us." She paused before she giggled again. "And your pants."

"My pants survived a lot more than this."

"Please, Your Grace. Let's go. I want that dance to be over, and it hasn't even started yet."

"Hmmm", Gortash hummed against her lips. "Say that little word again."

"Please, Enver~", she purred as seductively as possible, making him shiver.

"I never get tired of hearing that."

She repositioned herself on his left side, and they finally entered the room. The way every head turned to look at them made her feel like her legs were made of liquid. She'd never, ever do this again. She wouldn't allow him.

She hadn't done anything in particular as Gortash addressed the nobles, just stood tall and as confident as she was able to. She couldn't help the feeling in the pit of her gut that something wasn't right. The men and women around them drank every word of Gortash; they visibly liked him, so there was no problems whatsoever.

Then came the music and the thrice cursed dance.

She struggled through every second of it, even if she was trying her hardest to focus on him and no one else.

"You're doing well", he whispered to her, making her smile as he led her through it.

The tadpole in her skull squirmed anxiously.

This hadn't happened in hours, not since she'd left camp last night. The smile vanished from her face, and her eyes wandered around in the room as Gortash was spinning her once. The faces were blurry as her vision darkened at the pain as the tadpole squirmed even more, causing her a headache – someone was trying to get into her mind.

Close your mind, the Emperor warned her, you are in danger.

The panic was imminent. The Emperor had kept her safe ever since she fell from the Nautiloid, she had no reason not to believe him when he warned her. She felt it anyway; her tadpole wouldn't stir otherwise. She hadn't had her weapons with her, she felt as vulnerable as a newborn, especially in this dress, during a dance. The smile froze on her face as she paled, focusing to shut herself down from the intruder that poked around at the edges of her mind. She was trying to pay more attention to Gortash again, letting him pull her in close as they walked in a half circle, her hands between them, fingers entwined. Her expression made him furrow his brows slightly; he instantly knew something was wrong.

As soon as the dance was over and another song started which most of the guests started to dance to, he led her to one of the tables to get her something to drink. He couldn't outright ask what just happened; not yet, as the night was still young. He couldn't just disappear as they've just arrived. There were customs to follow.

Which led to an agonizing two hours of him introducing her to the good people of Baldur's Gate, during which her tadpole squirmed at the constant attacks against her mind. Someone really wanted to get in and look around in her brain.

Who is it? She asked the Emperor.

If I told you, you would scream.

Well. Good news was that there were several Steel Watchers around the room, and she was hanging from the city's most powerful man's arm. Surely nobody would try anything with the odds heavily in Gortash's favour, right? She was safe as long as she remained on his side and didn't lose him in the crowd.

And seeing her tight lipped, nervous smile and the sheer panic in her eyes, he would've been mad to let her get lost. He didn't only have her right hand hooked around his left arm, he even had his clawed right hand over hers as he spoke to others. To let her know that he really was there for her. To let everyone else know that she belonged to him and if anyone threatened her in any way, he'd destroy them without hesitation.

When it seemed they've met everyone, they glanced at each other. His questioning dark eyes met her slowly calming ones, and he was just about to ask a question when a silky voice spoke from behind them.

A silky voice that made her heart and breath stop.

"Archduke Enver Gortash? We haven't had a chance to speak, yet. I'd like to thank you for inviting me."

Tav nearly fainted. The edges of her vision blurred as she half turned to look at the man who addressed Gortash, dressed in the finest attire she'd ever seen on him; imposing, threatening, scheming in his entire being. Astarion was just as beautiful as he was on the day when he left her; her pale elf with his strong, piercing, crimson eyes and dangerous, sharp smile.

Hello, my sweet. He told her through their psychic connection as he locked eyes with her. Long time no see.

[blackquillchillin]

For the prompts: 16 or 20 or 42!

20: "Please. For me." "...okay. For you."

Bobby waited, arms crossed as the door opened, and a pair of guards went in. they emerged a few minutes later, one on each side of the Prosecutor, each gripping an arm. heavy chains were set around his wrists and a set around his ankles as well. After three days in solitary, the man looked positively demented. His hair was no longer tied back, flying out in all directions, and his grey eyes, usually clear and bright, glaring out from the shadows cast by his bangs, stared straight forward, focused on....Bobby couldn't tell what. The ever-present shadows under his eyes were larger and darker then ever. The guard on Blackquill's right nodded to Bobby, who returned it, and fell into step beside them, as they headed down the hallway.

Once they reached Blackquill's regular cell, the cuffs were removed, and he was more or less shoved inside, the door clanging shut behind him. Bobby watched him though the bars as the guards moved on, to some other inmate, some other task. Blackquill said nothing, staying more or less where he had stumbled when pushed. It was only after several minutes that Bobby broke the silence.

"Why did you do it?"

The other man did not answer, but he did finally move, sinking onto his cot, and staring once more, past Fulbright, past the stone walls, past everything. Bobby hated it, he wished Blackquill would just close his eyes, or move his gaze, or something-but he had to know. He had to know why. they had been doing so well.....

"Sir. Why did you attack a guard? you were doing so well, I really thought we were making progress-"

-He cut off when Blackquill started to laugh. a single, mono-syllabic "Heh." followed, a moment later by a second one, then a third. Bobby frowned, and found himself holding his sleeves tighter.

"it's not funny."

"Come now," The Inmate's eyes finally focused on Bobby, and he found himself wishing they hadn't, "Asking a prisoner why they bite the hand that beats them? You know the answer to that, surely."

"No! No I don't! Sir, please, rehabilitation don't involve-"

"I'm in no mood to argue with a figment. Move on, move on, I've other apparitions to see."

"w-what?"

"Do you believe yourself the only man who appears to me? the only being who haunts my subconscious? Nay, though the lack of blood is pleasant at least. a whole figment, for a change." His eyes moved past Bobby again, and the awful, crooked grin that had formed disappeared, his brow furrowing. "it's too soon for someone real."

Did....Did he not think bobby was real? Suddenly Bobby's uneasiness was replaced with-well, joined by-concern.

"what..what do you mean by that?"

"It's too soon. No one visits directly after solitary. I won't see anyone real until mess....or time in the yard. I wonder which is next...."

"Won't you see the guards?"

"Oh, yes, how silly of me to overlook my escort who shoved me in a cell and walked away. Bloody hell, you're daft today."

"Today? Do I appear to you on other days?"

"Not usually. Come now, cease the questions. If you ARE real, tell me something I wouldn't know."

"like what?"

"Mm....Tell me of..Tell me of the outside world. What are the lawyers doing? the judges? the little ladies who need to cross the street?"

"I'm....not sure..."

"Please. For me."

"....okay. Okay, I'll tell you."

And that is how Bobby Fulbright spent the last few hours of his day, regaling Simon Blackquill of tales of the free world, with all its mundane normalcy, While Blackquill, eyes half closed, listened to every word.

I hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing it. I don't have a lot of practice writing scenes that take place in the prison, so I hope I did alright. Thank you again to @gigimirasol for sending an ask! I still owe you one more prompt!