#i wonder if there will ever be another shift

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team—his family—sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.

[museanddream]

Holy (Alexia Putellas x reader)

Summary: You’d do anything for Alexia, that’s why you’re her good girl.

Warnings: 🔞 | praise kink, anal sex, bottom!reader

Word count: 3.3k

“Shh, it’s fine. You’ll take it.” A pause, and then a question. “Isn’t that right?”

Alexia’s voice is soft, the hand that strokes up and down your side even softer, but it doesn’t distract you from the blunt head of the dildo harnessed to her hips that’s currently nudging against your asshole. She doesn’t push in yet, maybe sensing your anxiety, but the silicone pressed against the tight ring of muscle is a gentle reminder of what’s to come.

Realising that Alexia is still waiting for your answer, you gently breathe out and say, “Yes.”

“Yes?” Alexia echoes. “Of course you’ll take it. You’re always such a good girl for me.”

She’s already given you a teaser of what it’s going to feel like, already stretched you open with three of her fingers, but you don’t think anything could have prepared you for the sensation as she starts to push forward with her hips. It’s not so much the feeling itself, but the thought of what she’s doing, the realisation that Alexia is taking your ass. That, and the look of wonder on Alexia’s face as she watches where she ever so slowly enters you.

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly religious, but the whole experience feels some kind of holy.

“Ale,” you whimper.

She responds by hushing you again, then draws another noise from your throat as she starts rocking her hips slowly back and forth, even with just the head of her cock inside you.

“I’ve got you.” Alexia’s voice is low and calm. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

With each gentle thrust, she sheathes herself deeper within you. You already feel so much fuller than you did with her fingers, yet it’s somehow still not enough. You want her to fill you, to fuck you, to take your ass in the same way she would normally use your cunt.

“Alexia.” You repeat her name, trying to urge her deeper. “Please.”

Your hand reaches down and grapples at her hip, your fingers eventually wrapping around the hanging end of one of the harness straps, trying to urge her closer.

Her hips stilling, she swats at your hand, a little crease forming between her eyebrows as she shakes her head.

“Enough of that,” she warns you. “I can only make you feel good if you behave.”

You drop your hand obediently, instead trying to use only your eyes to implore Alexia to just move.

“Good girl,” she praises you, causing your pussy to clench around nothing, which only emphasises the stretch of her cock in your ass. “You don’t need to do anything except lie there and look pretty. I’m going to take such good care of you. My perfect little whore.”

The way that Alexia says the word is reverent, like it’s a term of endearment. You’d be willing to do pretty much anything to have her call you a whore again and maybe that’s her entire plan, because she takes the opportunity to slide the rest of the way in until the entire length of her cock is nestled inside you, fuller than you’ve ever felt before.

“How does that feel, cariño? How do I feel inside you?”

“Good.” Your answer is brief, unable to string together much more than single words. “Full. Fuck. Ale, so full.”

She looks down at you with a hint of pride on her face, her hands stroking up and down your thighs where they’re hooked around her waist.

“Good. I’m going to start fucking you now.”

Alexia does this sometimes, she narrates everything that’s happening while she fucks you like she’s a casual spectator, not the one actually doing it all to you. And it drives you wild, hearing her voice so cool and level while you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind with her buried to the hilt inside you.

She repositions slightly, pulling you right to the edge of the mattress so that she’s standing at the foot of the bed with your legs wrapped around her. You let out a cry as the toy shifts inside you and she soothes you with another hush.

“I’ve got you,” she says, even as she withdraws nearly all the way, before pushing back in almost as slowly.

Being fucked by Alexia is always the best kind of torture. She likes to tease and tonight has been no exception. She ate you out for what felt like an eternity before going anywhere near your asshole, working you up with her tongue on your clit until you were nearly trembling, only pulling away when you were right on the brink of orgasm.

That’s when she turned her attention to your ass. You’ve talked about it for a while but the first touch of her tongue against your rim, the stretch of her lubed-up finger breaching your asshole for the first time, is something that no amount of talking could’ve prepared you for. She worked you open slowly, adding a second finger and then a third only when she was absolutely sure you were ready for it, when you were pretty much begging for her to fill you up.

Even now, with the strap, she doesn’t rush. She’s not hesitant, but it’s slow and measured. She’s in absolute control and you can only lie there and take as much as she’s willing to give you.

“Ale,” you whine.

Without breaking the steady push of her hips, Alexia’s gaze meets yours.

“What? You want more?” She reads your mind but you don’t dare nod in response. “Am I not fucking you well enough?”

She punctuates her words by somehow pushing deeper, but still just as slow. You can feel every inch of silicone stretching you open as she slides in and out.

It’s the same as when she fucks your cunt, the same pleasurable stretch, the same feeling of having Alexia surrounding you and filling you up, yet it’s completely different too. The pleasure is more of an ache, bristling under the surface and only serving to remind you how empty your pussy is, how close you were earlier when Alexia’s mouth was on you. Each thrust into your ass feels like it’s turning you inside out.

You love it and hate it at the same time. Love the way it feels to have Alexia filling your ass. Hate the fact that she’s giving you so much and it’s somehow still not enough.

“Please, Ale. Need to come.”

Alexia’s hips still and she gives you a stern look that almost has you immediately cowering away and apologising for being so needy.

“Patience, cariño. You’ll come when I want you to come.”

You have no control over the whine that escapes from your throat.

“What’s the matter, bebé? You trust me, right?”

You take a couple of deep breaths. Alexia’s large hands are on your thighs, fingers splayed out against the soft skin and tracing tiny paths back and forth that certainly aren’t helping to temper your need for release. But you do trust her. As torturous as each second that she denies you is, if Alexia says that she’ll make you come, then you know it’ll happen.

Patience. It’s never been one of your greatest virtues. Especially not when Alexia is involved. Especially not when you’ve been wanting her to take your ass like this for what feels like forever.

Another deep exhale, then you answer, “Yeah.”

Alexia’s eyes soften, her fingers tighten appreciatively against the thighs that are still wrapped around her hips.

“So you know I’m going to take good care of you, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from her face.

“You’ll come for me, I promise. Just let me have my way with you first. Okay?”

Her voice soothes you, the lyrical way that her accent curls around each word. There’s comfort in having her so close and you manage to relax, even with her cock buried to the hilt in your ass.

Alexia must feel it, for she smiles and softly murmurs, “Good girl.”

She starts moving again, with more of a rhythm now. Still so full, still aching for something in your cunt or on your clit, but the feeling Alexia fucking you properly sends more endorphins to your brain with each slap of her hips against your thighs.

When she takes you like this, you’re reminded of everything you love about Alexia. The physical stuff - how strong she is, how powerful, how majestic she looks with lean muscle and sun kissed skin towering over you. But also how well she takes care of you, the reassuring softness of her hands on your thighs and the look of wonder on her face as she watches where her cock splits you open. How she knows your body well enough to give you exactly how much you can take and not a fraction more.

Alexia’s hands slide around your thighs, pushing your legs up away from their resting place around her hips. You reach down to help her, a hand behind the crease of each knee pulling your legs up towards your head, spreading yourself wide enough that she can see everything.

There’s nowhere for you to hide.

“If only you could see what I can see. Your pretty little asshole stretched open for my cock. Taking it so well.”

Her words of praise make you even wetter, if that were somehow possible. Or maybe it’s just the new position, spread out like this, that makes you feel like you’re dripping down to where her cock enters you.

Still fucking into you, Alexia doesn’t even seem to be breaking into a sweat. Like this is all so routine for her.

Like she isn’t taking your ass for the first time.

You’d maybe think she was completely unaffected by it all, if it wasn’t for the look on her face. Transfixed by the sight of you spread open, wet, and taking her so readily, you’ve never seen such hunger in her eyes, like she’s ready to devour you completely.

“You were just made for my cock, weren’t you?” She asks, her voice husky with arousal. “All your holes, just begging for me to fill them.”

One of her hands moves between your legs, brushing across your sensitive clit and collecting your arousal on her fingertips, before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.

Alexia’s voice seems to drop impossibly lower as her gaze flits up to your face and she says, “I bet you want something in here too.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on her pretty lips, coupled with a knowing look in her eyes. You hardly need to beg for her to know the truth.

But you’ll do it anyway.

“Ale,” you gasp, as her fingers toy with you, teasing, probing, but never dipping inside. “Please.”

“Of course you do. Such a perfect slut.”

Her fingers tease you, the same way she toyed with your ass earlier while prepping you for the same cock that she still rhythmically thrusts into you. Giving you just a hint of what you want, but not enough to satisfy you.

“Ale.”

“Go on,” she says, the curl of her lips taunting you. “Tell me what you want.”

Alexia already knows what you want, proving it by pushing two of her fingers into you just as far as the first knuckle, but she withdraws them just as quickly to rub tiny circles around your clit instead.

“Your fingers.”

The fingers in question slide torturously slowly down from your clit, stopping at your entrance just as Alexia asks, “Where?”

She’s such a fucking tease. You’d perhaps call her out on it, if you weren’t helplessly impaled on her cock. If you weren’t reliant on her for the orgasm that your body feels like it’s needed for hours.

So instead you manage to helplessly whine, “My pussy.”

Without breaking the steady rock of her hips, she starts to push her slippery fingers into your cunt. The stretch as she coaxes two of her fingers inside you steals your breath away. You’ve taken them countless times before, but never like this. Never with her cock already filling your ass.

“Ale…”

Her name passes your lips like a warning. A warning against what, you’re not exactly sure. Maybe that you’re never going to be the same after this. Or that she might have to fuck you like this every time for you to be fully satisfied.

Or that you’re going to come really fast now that Alexia is fucking both of your holes.

Each thrust of the strap into your ass is shattering your existence into thousands of tiny pieces, each press of her fingers into your cunt is reassembling those splinters into a different version of yourself.

“Ale.”

She ignores you, though you could swear that the snap of her hips against your ass speeds up just a fraction after you breathe her name like a prayer.

When she presses her thumb against your clit each time she curls her fingers inside you, you know that you’re a goner.

“Alexia, I’m going to come.”

“No,” comes Alexia’s immediate reply. “You’re going to wait.”

“I can’t.”

Her free hand comes up to your jaw, with her thumb on one side and her fingers splayed across the opposite cheek. Her grip is gentle, yet firm enough to lift your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet hers.

“You can.” Alexia tells you, before she throws it back to you with a question. “Can’t you?”

Maybe you’re drunk on the pleasure of her stretching you open in two places, maybe it’s just the intensity of her eye contact that is compelling you to agree with her. But Alexia has given you absolutely no reason to not trust her tonight.

As much as you can with her fingers gripping your jaw, you nod.

“Good girl.”

Until now, Alexia has been so careful with you. Despite the supposed vulgarity of where she’s fucking you, it’s never been about taking something from you, instead what she can give you.

Only now does she start to be a little more selfish.

She leans over you, one hand still wrapped loosely around your throat like a necklace and the other curling two fingers into your cunt. Her hips pick up the pace, finally taking her own pleasure.

Alexia fucks you hard, hips snapping against your ass, but you can take it. You want it, you want her, and there’s just a split second where you appreciate how skilfully she’s primed you to be able to take her like this, before it overwhelms you.

Alexia is everywhere all at once. The pleasure almost smothers you, or maybe it is Alexia’s hand around your throat cutting off your air supply. All you know is that suddenly you’re holding your breath as you try not to come before she allows it. Every muscle in your body is tightly coiled, ready to snap at any moment. Your thighs shake from the exertion of holding it all back.

“Alexia.” You manage to choke out her name in another warning.

“Yes,” Alexia hisses, even as she continues to fuck you. “Dios mio, you’re so good for me. Giving me all your precious holes to fuck. Letting me own you.”

“Ale … can’t …”

“My perfect girl.”

Her thumb on your clit already had you teetering on the precipice. But it’s her praise that pushes you headfirst into your orgasm.

The pleasure of it wrecks you. You’re spinning through space and time, no idea which way is up and which is down. As your back arches and your body shakes, all you’re really aware of is Alexia, her hands on your neck and inside you cunt, her cock still filling your ass. And she’s the only thing that matters, that and the way she makes you feel.

As the pleasure bleeds away into pure affection, you realise that Alexia is still rutting into you. You feel the stretch more than ever, especially as the aftershocks have you still clenching around the toy, and you open your mouth to ask her to slow down, when you realise that she’s close too.

The signs are unmissable. The little crease between her eyebrows, the glaze in her eyes, the tiny grunts she lets out with each thrust.

“Yes, baby,” you encourage her. Her fingers slip out of your cunt and she leans further over you, single-minded as she fucks you with one goal in mind. “Come for me. Come in my ass.”

As well as she knows your body, you know hers too, and you know exactly what to say to tip her over the edge into her orgasm. Sure enough, just a couple of thrusts later, her hips are stuttering inside you as the climax hits her.

You wrap yourself around Alexia, hands flat against the back of her shoulders and legs hooked around the small of her back, holding her as close as possible while she shudders through her orgasm. Alexia responds by pressing herself into you, swathes of hot skin against yours and her face nuzzling into your neck as the last few aftershocks tremble until she falls still in your arms.

For long moments, the only movement is the steady rise and fall as you both catch your breath. Your breathing syncs up with Alexia’s, until you’re both relaxed and heavy-limbed.

“Wow,” Alexia exhales, when she finally pushes herself up onto one arm so that she can look down at you with a warm smile, her eyes glowing with affection. Her free hand sweeps away some of the hair that is plastered to the sheen of sweat on your forehead. “You are just incredible.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, because in the wake of your orgasm, being praised by her is somehow more reason to feel shy than the fact she’s just taken your ass.

The thought makes you clench around the toy that’s still inside you, except that the sensation is much less comfortable than it was when you were brimming with pleasure and desperate to get off.

Alexia must see the wince that you try to conceal, because she presses her lips against yours, then murmurs, “I need to pull out. I’ll be gentle.”

She eases the toy out slowly, perhaps with even more care than she took to fill you. Part of you wishes that she’d pull out in one swift movement, like ripping off a band-aid, but soon you feel the toy slip free and finally, finally you can relax.

Alexia makes quick work of the harness, expertly unstrapping herself and tossing the toy to the floor beside the bed with a thud, before she settles on her back and pulls you into her side, her strong arms wrapping you in their cocooning warmth.

You settle against her, your head resting on her shoulder and your leg hooked across her hips, wondering when you became so lucky to get to call yourself hers.

Alexia, clearly, has other thoughts on her mind.

Her lips press against your temple, then she murmurs amusedly against your skin, “We’ll try a bigger one next time, no?”

You’re perfectly content like this, perfectly in love with this incredible woman, and you’d probably let her take you in any which way she wants to.

Right now, however, you’re too sated and exhausted to think of anything except sleep.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ale,” you mumble sleepily into her shoulder.

You feel her lips curl up in a smile where they’re pressed against your forehead as her arms squeeze you closer.

“Amor, that’s not a no…”

[lokisgoodgirl]

Choke [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is here Summary: Just a horny drabble. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. (Light) Choking, smut. Kink/roleplay. (w/c 350) A/N: This drabble takes place in the content of couple's kink roleplay and safe, pre-agreed boundaries. Please research this before you ever try it IRL, and only with a partner you trust.

You’d never appreciated quite how large Loki’s hands were until one was wrapped around your throat.

"Choke me," you’d whispered as you rolled your hips, swallowing his cock deeper inside with every slow gyration. Loki’s brows had peaked, his movements slowing. But then, his knuckles had trailed between your breasts, up the exposed column of your throat, unfurling like a deadly flower: thumb at your pulse point, index finger pressing gently below your left ear.

"Like this?" he growled, squeezing gently. He knew exactly like that.

A thrill scorched between your legs. Your cunt tightened around him, and Loki’s eyes fluttered shut with a soft groan. "And they call me the villain," he murmured, thrusting at a glacial, devastating pace. With each roll of his hips, the pressure on your neck increased ever-so-slightly, his slender fingers slotting perfectly into the curve.

You traced over the hand, memorising the thick lines of his veins, the powerful sinews which had once wielded weapons which wrecked galaxies in another life. Now, they wrecked only you as he fucked you endlessly; loved you, endlessly.

In the low light, Loki’s half lidded eyes were pools of fresh tar-the slightest sliver of blue bordering blown irises as your breaths grew short. Dark curls hung sluttishly around the point of his jaw, his wet lips parted as he looked up at the woman pulsing on his cock in devilish wonder; his hand around her delicate, breakable throat.

"Is this how you want me to rule you?" he purred; a playful lilt of poison in its tenderness. You tried to nod and couldn’t.

"Yes…" you gasped.

"Yes?" His brows lifted expectantly.

"Sir."

"King," he corrected, using his free hand to push your hips deeper down the base of his cock. It ground your pussy against his pubic hair, across the flat plane of muscle beneath, guiding the growing orgasm which sparkled like moonlight on shifting waters.

Your vision swam, blood rushing.

Loki’s pressure loosened, one large thumb brushing over your lips and pulling the bottom one down. "I could crush you," he said sweetly, tilting his head with a light squint that made your brain scramble. "But…" He sighed: low, primal, filthy. "You know exactly how to fuck me. The only one in nine realms who can. So for now…"

The long fingers unfurled, pads brushing over your larynx, trimmed nails tracing the flush of your heated skin: tighter.

Tags in comments❤️

[svearehnn]

sunlight in burgundy | azriel x reader

Summary: Velaris is a place of healing, so no wonder you ended up at the House of Wind. However, you didn't expect to be welcomed by a gentle male and a leather-bound book.

a/n: i don't know what this is!!! just wanted to write and this came out. enjoy!!

Mahogany doors greeted your view, colossal and menacing, hiding anything and everything from your sight. With a deep breath and shaking hands you pushed the doors open. Sunlight greeted you, seeping in from rounded windows that seemed to take up the whole wall. They were open, their burgundy curtains fluttering in the wind. You took in the room with wide eyes, noting the shelves of books, the greenery hanging from the ceiling and winding around the furniture, the matching chairs that held a figure. A sharp breath entered your lungs as you noticed him, his hazel eyes already tracking you. 

“Hello,” he murmured, voice crackling like wood on a fire, his thin, leathery wings shifting ever so slightly as the word left him. You stood still like a deer in the eye of a hunter, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Of course, the first time you dared to leave your room since you were saved and you had to come across another soul.

“Um,” you stuttered, voice stuck within your throat. “Hi.” His lips curved up in a slight smile, thumb marking his page as he shut the book he was reading.

“How are you?” You took a miniscule step backward, your gaze never leaving his form, hackles on high alert. He wasn’t a threat, you knew that, yet your body reacted otherwise.

“Um,” fell from your lips once again. You blinked slowly, eyes darting down to the book in his hand before landing back upon his face. He followed your line of sight with a quirked brow and a gentle expression as he shifted in his seat, bringing his book up from his lap.

“Were you looking for one of these?” You nodded and swallowed the lump that had settled in your throat before taking a tentative step forward, despite your body screaming at you to run away. He became molasses as he stood, his movements smooth and still in an attempt not to spook you.

“What kind of book are you looking for?” One glance over your shoulder at the doors led you to the knowledge that they had shut behind you and that it would not be a quick escape, but for some reason, your frosted heart was starting to warm. You did want a book, after all. Maybe taking his advice wouldn’t be so bad.

“I just want a, uh, a book.” Your voice came out weaker than expected, a wince taking over your body at the softness you were displaying in front of this winged stranger. He didn’t comment on it, though. Rather, he nodded, and the shadows that seemed to surround him moved. A gasp fell from your lips without consequence, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you watched them disappear down the aisles of books. When you glanced back at him, he was still watching; observing you, looking for something, but you didn’t know what. 

“I control them.” He spoke, jolting you out of your bewilderment. “I am a Shadowsinger.” You hummed, no words slithered up your throat, just awe. You had never met a Shadowsinger before. To be fair, you had actually never met a winged fae before. There were a lot of firsts happening for you in this moment.

“W-what do they do?” You whispered after a beat, catching the shadows in the corner of your eye as they came back to their master with something in hand. He smiled softly, just a tilt of his lips as you’ve seen before, and he took the item from his shadows’ cool grasp.

“They tell me things. Intel, mostly. They also help with moments like this. Here.” He held out the item, and now with the sun shining down on his glove-clad hand, you could tell that he was holding a leather-bound book. “It’s one of my favorites.” You nodded, eyes flitting between him and his outstretched hand. 

There was still a decent amount of distance between the two of you–distance that you were afraid to make disappear. However, if you wanted that book and the safety of your room back, you would have to move forward. You took a step toward him, and then one more, heart rabbiting in your chest as you extended unfounded trust to this unknown male. He waited patiently, head bowed, but his eyes never left your face, as if he was physically unable to look away. With a quivering hand you reached out and swiftly snatched the book from his outstretched hand and cradled it to your chest. His eyes twinkled as he let his arm fall limply down by his side.

“Thank you.” You murmured, gaze downcast, picking apart the threads in the ornate carpet that adorned the rustic wooden flooring.

“You’re welcome.” He responded, his voice warm and comforting, drawing you back in. With your line of sight connected once again, his mouth opened and he uttered his name. “I’m Azriel. And you are?” 

As you took a step back, your name fell from your lips on an exhale, fingers tightening on the spine of the book almost painfully. With a nod of your head you turned and beelined it for the doors, opening one just a crack so you could slip through. The sunlight and the breeze of Velaris faded away as you hurried back to your room to begin reading your new find, however, the mysterious male seemed to occupy your mind more than the book that he had handed to you. Maybe that chance encounter was not chance at all, but rather fate that bubbled deep within the Cauldron alongside a whisper of your names.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

.

“I'm good, Stiles.”

Stiles thinks about the times when, all too often, he himself says I'm good in that particular way, and thinks about how it actually means everything in his life is currently lighting up like a dropped match landing in a trail of gasoline.

In the space of a single heartbeat, he knows he would somehow harness the contents of an entire fucking lake to dampen down that metaphorical trail for Derek, murdering the thought of that lost little boy playing Hide-Go-Seek in Derek's pale eyes.

Only he isn't about to start talking about things being on fire. Not to Derek, not ever.

Instead he says, “I always had this rule, you know, where I’d flat out ignore a problem and wait for it to—and I used to swear to myself that this would actually happen—” His lips drag themselves up one side of his face as he sweeps an arm dramatically through the drizzling rain and the pressing twilight. “—just go away.”

He then allows his arm to fall unceremoniously to his side, and the sound of hand slapping khakis rings out through the sparse and quiet branches of the preserve's stripped bare trees.

“Okay.” Derek says the word with an infinitesimal shake of his head, looking as if he wants Stiles to stop talking.

Thing is, if Derek wanted Stiles to stop talking he would say Stiles, stop talking.

So, Stiles troops on.

“And it kind of worked, a little bit. For a little while, at least. ” He takes a hit of chilly November air. Releases it slowly, enjoying the crazy plume of breath-smoke it creates. “Until I met you,” he shrugs.

Derek blinks and it's a betrayal, giving away his hard-won secrets.

Stiles briefly wonders who else—who left in the world—would know this about the werewolf standing opposite of him. Stiles doesn't need to be a ʼwolf to know this stuff, not when it comes to Derek Hale.

He tries not to look at Derek's lips when Derek licks them before asking, “What are you talking about, Stiles?”

“Magick,” he answers, his feelings and other things shifting underneath the layers of his skin, crackling away like a hundred tiny Roman Candles traversing his bloodstream and manifesting as gooseflesh.

Rolling his hoodie sleeve, he lifts a cold hand between the two of them and allows a miniscule fraction of whatever beats like a heart at the earth's core to flow up through the ground and into his feet and up his legs and down an arm, warm and thrilling, to then spring free out of his right palm.

A small sphere of pure light around the size of a tennis ball now glows about an inch above his hand, kind of like an oversized firefly—and just as alive.

“Cool as fuck, huh?” Stiles mutters, basking in its incandescence, super-proud of himself. Then he gets to his point. “Deaton showed me how to harness my spark, yeah? But I would never have found it in the first place, if you hadn't followed Scott and I into the woods that day.”

Derek blinks again. His jaw ticks like a clock.

“Stiles, that's a little like saying one, two miss a few, ninety-nine, a hundred,” he deadpans, and Stiles can't help but bark out a laugh.

Then he steels himself for one anticipatory moment before daring himself to take a step closer to Derek.

Derek stays put.

“Doesn't make it any less true,” Stiles shrugs.

Derek just stares at him for a moment, before peering down properly at Stiles's little orb, for the first time since Stiles summoned it.

“You've been practising,” he says simply, his eyebrows doing their thing.

He's now staring at Stiles's effort as if he wants to sink his fangs into it, like you would a quarter to test if it's real.

“Is it freaking you out?” Stiles asks.

“No,” he answers flatly. “I think it's cool as fuck,” and he looks up at Stiles like he might want to keep looking.

Stiles wants him to never stop.

“Then here, you can have it,” he says.

He takes another step closer to Derek.

They are toe to toe, now, and still Derek doesn't bolt, nor pounce, nor warn Stiles off.

So, Stiles—really slowly—reaches for Derek's hand.

Derek lets him.

Stiles then transfers the light to Derek's palm, cupping his hand around Derek's to ensure it keeps hovering there. He directs their hands to Derek's chest, stopping right over his heart and flattening them both there, he and Derek watching as Stiles's spark dissipates into Derek's body, leaving behind a few wispy tendrils of light that Stiles guides back into himself with a couple of waves of his free hand.

“Now, whenever you're good, I can be right there being good with you, even if I'm not around,” Stiles says, and then he hopes and hopes when he asks, “Is that okay?”

Derek smiles, and it's the first truly happy-looking smile that Stiles has been privileged enough to witness blooming on that beautiful, beautiful face of his.

“It's better than okay, Stiles,” he says. “It's magick.”

.

unedited, soz! this is for @dontcallpanic (pip knows why) <3

.

...edited version now found HERE on ao3 :)

[creatingblackcharacters]

Good day!

I am a white woman of a certain age and when I was growing up in the Seattle area, the word for this hairstyle

was always "dreadlocks", shortened by people my young (at the time) age to "dreads".

For several years now I have noticed I never see "dreads" or really even "dreadlocks" anymore. It's locs.

I'm not confused by the verbiage, I've never not understood what "locs" means, but I do still inherently think of the style as "dreads" first, simply because that was formative for me.

Is this shift just a living language thing, where common usage just replaced one term with another? Was my experience regional, and only in the PacNW were they ever called anything other than locs? Is "dreads" actually racist and I've just never been exposed to the information that I should have been in that regard?

(And if so, I sincerely apologize for its use in this ask and mean absolutely no disrespect)

As an addition to this question, I did try to look it up myself first, but Google is such ass now (or I just couldn't get the right search terms for seo to yield results) that I couldn't find anything useful on it. I did find WAY too many pictures of white people with this hairstyle, and an overabundance of sales pages for white hair extensions in some variation of this style. I wonder if that's common, or if it's just because Google knows I'm white and the search results reflect that. Either way, it was obnoxious that I had to word my searches extra specifically to get Black hair in my results.

Thanks for all you do!

To answer your questions in not the right order:

1. It's both. You are white, which means the things you research are probably going to be more geared towards an algorithm that fellow white folk use. They gotta advertise to you!!! And, Google is just racist. It's why I try to convince people on here that you have to get specific with your searches and use key words you find to dig deeper to reach what you want. Because if you just type in "Black hair styles" you're still gonna get a lot of white people and AI. It's obnoxious ASF and always has been. Can't just toss your hands up at the first wall.

2. It's a cultural thing, trying to reform the imagery of the hairstyle, a sort of reclamation if you will. I've mentioned in prior lessons that not everyone is going to get up in arms if you say dreads or dreadlocks. I prefer locs. It's mainly because saying dread has a connotation that my hair is dirty, nasty, uncared for. People, often white and in positions of power, hear dreadlocks and they think weed and tangles and lazy stereotypes that just aren't true. So it wouldn't be racist if you called someone's locs dreads, but it would be racist if they told you "I prefer locs/please say locs because-" and you said "well when I grew up it was dreads" okay well that's not how I identify them, so.

[foolishbirb]

mephisto's recordings || Sylus Qin

[ sylus x f!reader. drabble. fluffy. from enemies to friends to not yet lovers yet harbouring feelings for one another. aka slowburn. mephie, the best listener ]

The dim lights of the office room cast an eerie glow across Sylus's rugged features as he sat in his usual armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey. His piercing crimson gaze flickered to the small device on the table before him, the one that recorded Mephisto's audio from his camera.

He hit play, the familiar sound of your voice filling the air. "You know, Mephie, Sylus isn't as bad as I first thought. He can be kind of funny sometimes, tolerable at best too." Your words were tinged with the slightest hint of fondness, making Sylus's lips twitch.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still an arrogant asshole most of the time." You continued, your voice carrying a light chuckle. "But I guess there's more to him than meets the eye. Like how he sends you to check up on me even when we're not... attached."

Sylus took a long sip of his drink, the amber liquid burning a path down his throat. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth at your unexpected praise. It was rare for you to let your guard down, especially when it came to him.

The recording continued, your voice drifting through the speaker. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Sylus and I weren't constantly at each other's throats. The idea of us fighting side by side as partners would've been nice. Don't tell him I said that, though. I have a reputation to maintain, after all."

A low chuckle rumbled in Sylus's chest. He knew all too well how much you valued your independence and your status as a formidable hunter. The idea of you showing any vulnerability, even to a mechanical crow, was both surprising and oddly endearing.

"He can be a real jerk sometimes, but... I think he means well."

Sylus felt a pang in his chest at your words. He knew he had a quite the name for himself, both in the N109 Zone and beyond. But you... you saw something in him that no one else did. Something he wasn't sure he fully understood himself.

"He's not as cold as he lets on." You continued, your voice soft and wistful. "He's got this whole tough guy act, but... there's more to him than that. More than anyone realizes. I can see why Luke and Kieran trust him wholeheartedly."

Sylus leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He'd always prided himself on being unreadable, on keeping his cards close to his chest. But you seemed to see right through him. And it both unnerved and intrigued him.

"Anyway, I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight, Mephie. Hopefully your boss would let you off for a day from putting you on nonstop watch duty like this." A playful jab escaped your lips made Mephisto let out a soft caw, as if agreeing to your words much to Sylus's amusement.

As the recording ended, Sylus leaned back in his seat, his thoughts drifting to you. Despite the tumultuous history and the constant push and pull, there was no denying the connection you both shared. Whether it was the energy linkage or something deeper, Sylus couldn't quite say.

But one thing was certain - you had wormed your way under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And as much as he enjoyed the verbal sparring matches, a part of him yearned for the day when you finally see him in a different light and allowed him to be in your life.

With a sigh, Sylus downed the rest of his whiskey and grabbed another bottle that was already prepared nearby. The night was young, and his mind was filled with the thought of you no matter how much he tried to shift his attention elsewhere. He has a feeling that things between him and you were far from over.

Someday soon, things will change - and hopefully for the better.

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

The whore on my shoulder has been loud since I saw The Plot In You on Saturday. Because of my texts with @artificialbreezy this morning, I’ve decided to listen to her and the whore on my shoulder and write this drabble. It's kind of long for a blurb/drabble. So please enjoy!

Landon Tewers x Reader w/ slight Noah Sebastian x Reader.

18+ SMUT BELOW THE CUT(hate fucking with unprotective P in V, mean and possessive Landon, shower sex, choking, fingering, biting, spanking, teasing, brat!reader, peeping Noah).

“I swear, Lana! I faked it. Every time.” 

She looked at me with wide eyes trying not to choke on her sandwich as we sat around catering. The Plot in You and Bad Omens were touring together and it was nearing the end of the first week out of three. It was the first time I met anyone in the Bad Omens camp and since we both were the only females in each of our camps, Lana and I meshed well together. It also helped that we both were photographers. 

“You didn’t even get one?” She asked, dropping her voice since someone walked past our table. 

“Well, with my ex boyfriend. I faked it all. Now, I’m determined to make sure I get at least one before the guy gets off,” I admitted but then snapped my mouth shut when another body stood behind her. 

Looking away from Lana and up to the man that now stood behind her, looking through the spread of food. The tattoos on his thick arms glittered in the light of the room and when he glanced over his shoulder at me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the snake and apple tattoo on his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. 

“Hi,” I gave Noah a small wave as crimson warmed my cheeks when I remembered what happened yesterday.  

I accidently walked into the Bad Omens green room thinking it was the one for The Plot in You and managed to catch Noah mid dress. He was shirtless and stepping into his stage pants. My mumbled apology fell off my lips when I saw all those tattoos donning his skin and the very prominent hard on underneath his briefs. Noah made no move to kick me out, instead he backed me up into a corner, hands resting on my hips. 

“Need something?” He asked. 

“Depends on if you want to give it to me,” I playfully shot back. 

He hummed while slinking his hand underneath my hoodie, fingers grazing over the blazing skin of my stomach. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“I want you to make me cum with those long fingers. Think you can do that, Noah?” I breathed over his lips. 

He didn’t say anything, simply pulled down my jeans to my ankles. 

Noah now gave me a smile before gathering a plate of food to go sit at the table right behind me. When I saw who Noah sat next to, my heart stuttered in my chest when I locked eyes with a pair of dark eyes that had clearly been watching me. Not just today but ever since I started working for The Plot In You two months ago. 

Landon scratched at his chin, sending a wink my way, which made me spin back in my chair to face Lana. 

“What’s going on between you two?” she wondered. 

I blinked while shifting in my chair. “Me and Noah? No-nothing. We’ve just been flirting, that’s all.” 

Lana raised her brow with a sly smirk. “I meant with you and Landon.”

“Oh,” I mouthed while feeling a burning gaze at the back of my head. 

For two months, Landon and I had a complicated relationship. We would flirt with each other but not in the way you’d expect. Landon liked to tease me while I was a brat with him and couldn’t control my mouth. What started as light physical contact like the occasional brushing of hands or his hand on my lower back when he needed to walk past me soon became something more. Any chance he could, Landon would corner me and whisper filthy things in my ear to gauge my reaction. Most of the time I’d be so caught off guard that I would gaze up at him like a deer in headlights. When I did gain the courage, I would find the most revealing yet modest outfit to wear while working, showing off the right parts of my body that drove him wild. 

The other night was the first time that we got sexual when he pulled me into his bunk while we drove to the next city and whispered five words in my ear. 

“Need to taste you, baby.” 

Of course, I didn’t say no. I’d been riled up all week and needed a good orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my vibrator or hand. 

Yet, it never happened. Because as Landon was in the middle of devouring me, my hands gripping the back of his head so he couldn’t leave, his phone rang.

“No, please,” I whined when he pulled away. I’d been so close to my orgasm and was starved for it. 

He kissed the inside of my thigh. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” 

After laying there naked from the waist down for fifteen minutes, I swallowed the lump of embarrassment in my throat and got myself dressed again, leaving his bunk. Neither of us said anything about that night which made me believe it wasn’t what he imagined. 

I wasn’t what he imagined. 

“There is absolutely nothing going on with Landon and I,” I finally told Lana while pushing away my plate of food, suddenly not hungry. “We just like to have fun teasing each other.”

“I think what you and Noah are doing is fun. Which is fine. You’re single, you deserve to have fun. But I think whatever is going on between you and Landon is more serious.” 

“What do you mean?” I pursed my lips. 

She began gathering her things before motioning over my shoulder. “He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you stepped into the room. And the look he has in his eyes tells me everything I already knew.” 

With a wave, Lana left me alone at the table with only my thoughts. 

Not for long, however. 

Landon kicked out the chair next to me before falling into it, dark amber eyes pinning me in place. 

“Need something?” I asked with a narrowed gaze and rubbed my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

A smirk played on his pink lips underneath his mustache as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “With me you won’t be faking because you’ll be fucked like the whore you are.” 

My face blanched for a moment, wondering if I’d heard him correctly, but then anger festered low in my gut when it finally registered what he said. 

“Fuck you, Landon!” I seethed while pushing away from him and rising to my feet, him sitting laxed in the chair as he looked up at me. 

He shrugged. “All you have to do is get on your knees and beg.” 

I sneered while snatching my camera off the table. “All you are is fucking talk. You talk such a big game to make up for your shit performance in the bedroom! You couldn’t even get me off the other night!” 

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch us as I dared a glance over to Noah who was watching with an amused smirk on his face probably because he felt proud that he was able to get me off while Landon couldn’t.

Landon slowly rose to his feet so he could peer down at me. His breathing was deep and even, almost scary from how calm he was. It was the muscle in his jaw ticking that told me he was trying hard not to retort back. 

But of course, I was a brat, so I stood up on the tips on my toes to whisper in his ear, letting my hands rest over his broad chest. 

“At least Noah was able to get me off.”

Oh, I really fucked up. 

All because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. 

After leaving Landon behind in catering, I needed to be alone which is why I decided to take a shower in the tour bus bathroom. The show was in a few hours so I needed to get ready for it anyway. I’d been alone under the scalding water for less than five minutes before the door to the bathroom clicked open causing me to peer through the steam covered class, seeing Landon leaving against the door with a sly smirk. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly shocked he managed to sneak in but made no move to cover myself. 

“You said I had a shitty performance in the bedroom. Do you want to find out?” He asked while taking off his button up shirt, leaving him in a pair of jeans and a white tee.

I should say no. 

I should tell him to fuck off and leave.

But I didn’t.

Which is how I found myself pressed up against the plastic wall of the tour bus shower, Landon harshly whispering in my ear, dragging his teeth along the lobe, as the water splashed against his large back. 

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” 

A loud smack echoed in the tiny shower when he brought his hand down on my ass causing me to yell out in slight pain and arousal. 

I bit my tongue nearly drawing blood so I didn’t ask him to do it again. 

“Fuck you, Landon,” I spit out instead, the anger from our earlier argument still brewing deep in my gut. 

A dark chuckle brushed against the back of my neck as he pressed his cock against my ass. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, baby. But you keep pushing that perfect ass against me. I know what you want. But the question is, do you deserve it?”

Yes I do. 

“Go fuck-oh.” 

My threat fell away when his finger brushed along my folds, slowly teasing my clit. 

“Is this for me? Or for him?”

Don’t say something bratty. Don’t say something bratty. 

“Noah knows how to touch a woman,” I shot back over my shoulder. 

Landon let out a low growl while kicking my feet farther apart and bringing my ass closer to his hips so I was bent over, hands spread on the shower wall. I knew I didn’t need any foreplay, I was ready to go, and it seemed like Landon knew this as well because he angled his cock at my entrance. 

“Do I-?” 

I shook my head, already knowing what he was going to ask. “I’m clean.”

Our moans tangled together when Landon pressed inside of me, meeting some resistance so he pulled out slightly before going deeper this time. 

“That’s it,” he grunted while resting his forehead on the back of my shoulder. “Take all of it, Y/N.” 

The sound of him fucking me over powered the noise of the shower as he ruthlessly snapped his cock in and out of me. I clawed at the wall, trying to grasp onto something to keep grounded, and the familiar bliss of euphoria began to burn low in my gut. My orgasm was so close and I needed to finally tip over the edge so I dragged my hand down my stomach towards my clit. 

Landon smacked it away. “Hands on the wall.”

“I hate you,” I grumbled while doing what he said. 

His pace was ruthless, never letting up as his cock speared me open and hitting that spot each and every time. 

“Oh, God.” I panted. 

Landon’s nails dug into the skin of my hips to keep me planted as his cock swelled inside of me, indicating he was close too. 

“Say my name,” he breathed into the skin of my back, his mustache tickling my spine. 

His cock is inside of you, don’t be a fucking brat. 

Once again, I did not listen to the voice inside my brain. 

“Noah,” I moaned while dropping a hand to my clit, rubbing fast circles. “SHIT!” 

Landon stopped mid thrust to wrap his thick and tattooed arm around my throat, bringing me flush against his chest. By now the water had run cold, chills covering my body, and when I tried to get him to move again, Landon chuckled darkly. 

“If you want me to keep going, Y/N, let me hear you say it,” he bit down on the side of my neck. 

“No,” I shot back but still tried to get him to move inside of me. 

The fire of my orgasm was beginning to dwindle. 

Landon began pulling his cock out of my tight folds, making me whimper in a pathetic mess. 

“Please,” I dug my nails into the ink on his arm. “Don’t.”

The head of his cock was the only thing inside of me and I whined, never feeling this empty before. 

“You sound so fucking pretty when you whine for my cock. Just say my name and it’s all yours,” he said in between nipping and sucking on my neck. 

His name was quiet as it fell from my lips with a beg but it wasn’t enough for Landon. 

“Use your manners, baby. I need you to speak up so I know what you want,” his cock was nearly all the way pulled out. 

“Fuck,” I wrapped a hand behind his head. “Please, Landon. I need your cock. Please, I promise I’ll be good.” 

With a hand over my cheek, he turned my face towards him so our lips were meters apart. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised before crashing our mouths together and filled me up again. 

Our tongues fought for dominance and I wasn’t going to give up, something Landon so he let me take the reins of our kiss while he brought me closer to that familiar edge of euphoria again. With past relationships, I was never able to orgasm by intercourse, I always needed something extra to help. But with Landon, he was able to make those stars dance at the corners of my vision and my stomach fluttered just with his cock. 

Pulling away from our kiss, Landon rested his forehead against mine, the water running down his tattoos. “You can tell me you hate me all you want, Y/N. But the way your pussy is gripping me tells me otherwise.” 

Movement through the shower panes of the door caught my attention as I looked into the mirror of the bathroom, nearly falling to my knees in Landon’s grasp. The familiar snake and apple neck tattoo stared at me in the reflection of the glass. Landon must not have shut the door completely so Noah was watching through the small slit opening. 

I tapped Landon’s arm, trying to get his attention that Noah was watching but it only made him fuck me even harder. “Let him watch, baby. Let him know what he can’t have.”

I tried my best to meet his pace but it was so erratic, I opted to fall deeper into his body as his grip around me tightened when my orgasm finally tore me. I let out a loud scream, writhing in his grasp. 

A large hand clamped over my mouth and Landon pressed me against the wall of the shower, his stomach fleshed against my back. 

“You need to be quiet. I can’t have the guys hear how pretty you sound coming apart on my cock.” 

Landon fucked me through the after shocks with a few thrusts before his cock twitched, finally spilling himself inside of me while panting my name. 

Almost immediately he pulled out to turn off the water of the shower, both of us freezing, and I hazily turned around to face him. I stole a glance to the mirror in the bathroom, expecting to see Noah, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped when I didn’t see him there anymore. 

“I still fucking hate you,” I grumbled. 

He snickered while gripping my chin so I had no choice but to meet the fire in his eyes. 

“If you keep up with that attitude, I might need some help in punishing you next time.”

I gulped while wrapping my arms around me. “Some help?” 

A sinister smirk broke out on Landon’s face. “Do you want to find out?” 

Please. 

[rhettabbotts]

I hear dilf Rhett and must respond hehe

before he and babysitter get together, he comes home late one night after the girls have gone to bed. Babysitter fell asleep on the couch trying to wait up for him. He looks over her fondly, admiring her peaceful expression. He starts to walk toward the kitchen to fix himself a drink when he hears a quiet moan…

he doesn’t dare wake her up, not yet ready to cross that line yet. So in the low light of his living room, dilf!rhett watches his sweet babysitter have a sex dream on the couch 😈

It was a late night. The cattle had to be moved to the east pasture and branded. And MaryLou decided to give birth to her calf all at the same time. Rhett was exhausted. His body ached and his back had a pull in it that was bothering him to no end. He wanted nothing more than to kick his boots off, strip his dirty clothes and shower under scalding hot water.

The house was dark when he walked up, the yellow tinted porch light that usually burned was off. It was nearly eleven. Grace and Ellie were definitely asleep. You were probably fast asleep in your room as well.

As he stepped inside he could see the TV was lighting up the living room to his right but it was silent. And he could see you curled into yourself, wearing a thin tank top and sleep shorts. The ones that stopped right below your ass. The ones that drove him nuts every time he’s seen you in them. Which wasn’t often, expect for the few run-ins grabbing a glass of water at night.

Rhett stood by the door for a few moments, eyes taking in your sleeping form as he toed off his boots quietly. You shifted in your sleep, a slight arch of your back pushed your breasts taut against the tank and with the chill in the house, he could see your peaked nipples. He looked away quickly, feeling dirty - and it wasn’t because of the sweat and mud caked on his forearms.

He turned his back to you, heading to the kitchen for a quick nightcap. As he reached for the cabinet, a quiet noise filtered through the air and hit his ears. It sounded like a whimper almost and he went back to the living room to check on you. Perhaps you were having a nightmare. Another whining sound. Or perhaps not.

He watched you turn again onto your side. Your breath hitched and you let out a soft moan. Rhett felt his cock stir in his jeans. He left like a pervert but he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your body twitched slightly.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, so quietly he could’ve easily missed it if it wasn’t eerily silent inside the house. Another moan.

You turned onto your back again, your breathing a little quicker. More noises filtered through the living room and with each breathy moan and whimper, Rhett’s cock hardened against the constraint of his jeans.

The blanket that had been kicked to the end of the couch soon became entangled with your legs and he could tell it was rubbing ever so gently against your cunt, from the way a gasp escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” Rhett mimicked your sentiment earlier as he watched your chest heave. His right hand gripped his cock hard, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

“Mmm, daddy. There,” you keened, pressing your thighs together tightly. God, he couldn’t look away now. Dirty old man, he thought to himself.

The sounds became more frequent and Rhett was absentmindedly rubbing himself languidly. Another sharp gasp came from you and what he heard next nearly made him come right there in his pants.

“Rhett, yes, yes!”

Your thighs quivered, your body taut and Rhett had to close his eyes, finally taking them off of you. You stilled after a few moments, your breathing slowing again and a slight snore escaped you.

Rhett took the steps two at a time and stripped naked, not even waiting for his shower to warm up. He fisted his cock until it nearly hurt, recounting each breathy little moan. Wondering what you’d sound like if he buried his face into your pussy. The sound of you moaning “daddy” and “Rhett” ringed in his ears as he came all over the shower tile.

[cash-legacy]

SOGUE MAGAZINE, WINTER 2024

The Blood of the Innocent: Judith Ward's Dirty Little Secret

(For the Occultify a Sim challenge in the Occult Simblr Discord)

Nobody will forget the feeling of seeing their childhood favorite movie star twenty years later. The nostalgia of seeing their face, the weird awareness of your own mortality as you take in the new wrinkles and lines. Did she have those kids when she filmed that movie? Were they really that young? I'm older than he was when he filmed that one show... But one Del Sol face has yet to bear the scars of time - the ever-iconic Judith Ward. In our interview, Ward told me exactly how she's stayed just so young and lovely: consensual Vampirism.

Want more? Read the rest of the article below the cut!

This announcement comes at a complicated time for Simerica, as anti-Occult sentiments have spread across the nation like wildfire, and public opinion has shifted away from their support. Vampires especially, known for their "inborn" violent tendencies towards ordinary Sims, face a great deal of discrimination in many regions. Some Sims view this as a safety measure, a means of keeping natural killers away from their families. Recent legislation has attempted to make this a national issue, as opposed to a region-specific one, as proposed by senators Victor Feng and Anne Thorne, of San Myshuno and Copperdale respectively. Others sympathize with the Occult cause. Feng and Thorne's bill failed to get the required majority, but it was close. Many Sims on both sides of the political spectrum felt that the vote should have swung one way or another, and celebrities across Simerica have taken to speaking their piece. Judith Ward's, however, may be the most personal - and impactful - of them all. We conducted our interview at Ward's Del Sol house:

WHY NOW? "Now is precisely the right time to speak up about these things. Sims across the nation are wondering what to believe, and who to trust. And they know they can trust me. If being open about what I am convinces even a single Sim to join the cause and protect my people, it will have been worth all the backlash I expect to face." YOU CALLED IT CONSENSUAL VAMPIRISM. EXPLAIN THAT? "It's true that untrained or under-educated Vampires can cause massive harm to populations, especially in small towns. But the solution to that problem isn't punishing them, or stripping them of their resources. We've seen what happens when you do that. It's why we've had this moment of tension in the first place. But when provided the resources needed to survive harmlessly, Vampires are no more dangerous than any other Sim." BUT... "CONSENSUAL?" "I keep a few Sims in my employ. Times are tough, and I pay handsomely. It's in cooperation with a private medical practice, they're thoroughly informed beforehand, and it's all quite sterile and ethical, don't you worry." TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCE WITH VAMPIRISM. "I admit, when I first signed up for it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It was frightening. The transformation can be quite painful, particularly in the first few days. I've had some issues with work, too. I have to film daylight scenes in short bursts, or on soundstages. I've lost more than a few roles because of it. But I've got it easy, all things considered. My heart really goes out to all those who don't have such flexibility in their careers."

It's hard to say for certain where Occult politics will lead. Polling is wildly polarized across and within regions, and extremism on both sides is rampant. More and more prominent social figures are taking stances, and Judith Ward certainly won't be the last. Only time will tell which way the political compass will turn. See you next time, LINCOLN BROADSHEET

CelebCrave: Sogue Journalist Fired After Political Tantrum!

"They wildly misrepresented me," complained former Sogue interviewer Lincoln Broadsheet, in a recent Social Bunny post. "I didn't approve the cover or the title... It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this... And they fired me over it. Writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks." Read the full Social Bunny thread here: Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites replying to @[...] They wildly misrepresented me and Judith. It was a huge lapse in judgment from Sogue, and their decision to fire me when I protested was irresponsible. 1/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I didn't approve the cover or the title. My articles are always unbiased, especially when they're about such decisive subjects. It's incredibly hurtful to see such a prominent magazine ignore my intentions as a writer like this. 2/8 Lincoln Broadsheet @ LBWrites I couldn't sit by without speaking out, and they fired me over it. It hurts to see how many Sims don't care about misinformation and biased reporting. These issues are rampant, and writers like me get fired for trying to provide the truth, instead of writing for clicks. 3/8 [...]

[babyjakes]

baby barnes | homecoming.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | upon returning from a small solo mission, natasha has something to give to steve.

characters | steve rogers, natasha romanoff, bucky barnes, other assorted avengers, 'baby barnes' (original character)

warnings | all warnings from the original headcanon probably apply (slightly above canon level violence, child abuse, major character death.) very angsty, steve cries a lot.

word count | 1,440

an | based on my baby barnes headcanon, with some slight changes to the universe and storyline. in this version of events, after bucky is killed, nat goes on a solo rage mission to kill everyone at the hydra facility and bring baby barnes home to steve 🩷

"Sorry. This place is a mess."

As hard as he tried, Steve just couldn't pick his gaze up off of the floor as Natasha stood there in the doorway to his living quarters. "It's okay. Things have been hard, I know." The redhead's voice seemed as though it was trying to float through a thick screen of smoke, or maybe Steve was just underwater. Maybe he had been drowning for weeks.

It was quiet as the woman entered, slipping her shoes off on the mat near the door. Steve could feel her careful eyes taking him in, assessing the damage. Every word he pulled from his throat felt like a fishing line digging right back into his burning flesh as he questioned quietly, "Would you like some tea?"

He didn't have to lift his gaze to tell that she had shaken her head. The pair moved further into the room in silent tandem, Steve leading the way over to the long beige couch. The blonde's focus was fleeting as his eyes fell on his friend's lap, before shifting over to the old photo albums on the coffee table, then to the front door, then back to his own folded hands. Natasha cleared her throat, and Steve almost found it amusing, the way she was preparing to speak like she could possibly find anything to say in that moment that would somehow make things better.

"The mission was successful," was what she finally stated, the underwhelming words drawing a knowing look onto the supersoldier's face.

He nodded, doing his best to keep things polite. It wasn't Natasha's fault that he had fallen so out of love with the world; he knew that. "I'm glad," Steve hummed, thinking back to the telephone brief he had received about the agent's assignment before it had been launched. "She's just going in to clear out a suspected outpost. Nothing major," Stark had told him. The captain didn't like sending anyone off on solo missions, but he wasn't in any state to tag along, and thankfully it didn't seem like he was needed.

Through the heavy air, Natasha took another breath before finally speaking again. "I have something to show you." Her hand slipped quietly into her pocket before appearing again, holding a small photograph by its corner. When she handed it to Steve, the man couldn't help but begin to weep.

For a moment, all he could see was the girl's tender face. The face that had haunted his dreams for the past several months, ever since that first 'baby barnes' tape had arrived in the mail. In the photo, which he held tight with both of his shaking hands, the infant's big brown eyes were looking up at something. Her cheeks were round and soft, rosy as ever. Steve couldn't help but wonder when the picture had been taken, how close it was to capturing the baby's last moments on earth before she was put to rest like her father.

Finally shifting his attention away from her angelic face, the blonde trembled as he started scanning the rest of the photo for any clues. Brow furrowing in confusion, he was immediately puzzled by the plush blanket that sat in a messy pile surrounding the baby's little bottom and legs. "What's this?" he paused quietly as he thought back through all the tapes that were permanently engraved in his memory, like an endless reel of vivid film looping across the walls of his troubled mind. Not a single one had shown the infant with any sort of blanket or covering; that would go directly against the purpose of the project. She was deprived of any warmth, human or inanimate, as a simple yet effective form of torture. The blanket in the photo simply didn't belong. Steve was absolutely sure of it.

The next indicator that something was off was the state of the baby herself. She was unusually clean, her ivory skin appearing fresh and well-kept. Her medium brown whisps of hair laid neatly over her small head, lacking the usual knots and mats that he had grown used to seeing. Swallowing hard, Steve was struggling to understand why she looked so different, almost as if someone had been caring for her for the first time in her short life.

Desperate for any sort of explanation, the captain kept studying the photo, trying to make sense of each little detail he could make out. The background itself was insignificant, just a simple wall of dark metal paneling that didn't give any insight as to where or when the picture was taken. But then, in the very corner of the photo, Steve was finally given his answer. The edge of a jacket sleeve was just barely visible against the floor, the navy fabric recognizable to him anywhere; it was Nat's, an old garment from the team's days with SHIELD. The man's breath hitched in his throat as he began to stammer.

"N-Natasha," his voice wavered. "Nat. Where... how... wh-when was this-?" Steve continued staring at the small photo, more tears building in his eyes as he choked back something between a whimper and a sob. "Wh-when did you... w-was this, were you-?"

"This morning," the agent told the supersoldier softly, reaching out to place a steadied hand over one of his shaking ones. "Bruce and I got her all cleaned up and sorted out in the med bay. She wasn't a big fan of the bath, but we got a little smile out of her when we blew bubbles with the soap." Natasha's gaze was tentative, not knowing how Steve would take the news. But as she sat there, watching the revelations sink in for her friend, she couldn't help but let slip what she had been wanting to tell him since the moment she laid eyes on the infant while breaching the lonely Siberian outpost. "After what they did to Bucky, I knew what I had to do," she said quietly. "I had to save her for you, Steve. You would've done the same for me."

All at once, Steve could feel nearly a month of tension and agony lifting from his bones as he took what seemed like his first breath since witnessing Bucky's last through a screen. If he hadn't been seated, he would've fallen to his knees right there, maybe before God or maybe before his dear friend, the one who he now understood had brought the baby back safely after an undoubtedly perilous mission. The baby, the baby, the baby... that was all the captain's mind could hold onto as he sat there, clutching her photo as if both of their lives depended on it. She was alive, she was safe. And she had been brought home to him.

"Natasha," Steve choked out the young woman's name through tears, his voice like warm hands cradling their years of partner and friendship. There was something so unspeakably profound about the endless ways they were willing to live and die for each other; neither of the two could put it into words, but the feeling was certainly present all around as they sat there in the man's small living room, holding onto each other in a moment of shared silence. The gravity of Nat's actions was quick to settle in, and the significance of what she had done- all on her own, without being asked- was nearly unbearable to Steve. "Y-you went... all on your own? You could've-"

"I had to, Steve," Nat cut him off gently, her certainty on the matter unmistakable as it flashed across her face. "You were in no condition to fight, and the others would've only been in the way." As much as he didn't like what he was being told, Steve knew it was the truth. Things had gotten bad for Nat after Bucky's final tape; her decline was much more subtle than that of the captive's best friend, though he was still quick to notice it. It was only his nature. Now Steve understood that when she went dark like that, little could come between the agent and what she set out to do. As much as it worried him sick, that worry couldn't quite outdo the larger sense of relief that was flowing through him like water.

Steve's gaze drifted back to the tiny girl sat posing in the photo, another wave of grief washing over him as he saw a shadow of his late friend gazing back at him through those familiar brown eyes. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Natasha finally made the proposition, "Whenever you're ready, I'll take you to see her."

[demonic0angel]

Everyone talking shit about Clockwork shoving time missions on the Phantoms. Nobody ever talks about how hard he works to keep space/time from collapsing in on itself from bad timelines.

(You’re right 😔 he needs some appreciation. I had a lot of fun with this one lmao)

Part 3 of this post and this post.

Clockwork resisted the urge to sigh as he watched another world implode via the timeline shifting from the speed force. He silently sent another note to his children workers to solve the problem. As he monitored the situation in other worlds, he kept an eye on the collapsing timeline.

Soon enough, Dan swooped in before the catalyst to beat the crap out of the person who had accidentally created a zombie apocalypse and then he was stomping his feet and throwing a rage-induced tantrum within the poor scientist’s lab, destroying everything. He was shouting and overturning tables, but couldn’t be heard through the time stream.

Clockwork resisted a sigh again. He didn’t like overworking his children employees so much either, but it had to be done.

Just as Dan left the world to rejoin his boyfriend, Clockwork continued to watch the other timelines. Three more worlds suddenly took a turn for the worst and Clockwork sent more messages to the rest of his children workers in order to fix it. He paused as the door to his lair opened and Dan burst inside.

Clockwork tried not to tense. Dan was his most volatile child employee, and he was prone to attacking anything that enraged him. Jazz had once explained that it was his coping mechanism as a decade of grief and loneliness had completely corrupted his impulse control.

Clockwork turned, pretending that he didn’t feel apprehensive about Dan’s presence. “Is there a problem…?”

Dan strode forward with a cool, almost indifferent expression. Without warning, Dan threw himself forward and onto Clockwork’s lap. Clockwork tensed, but Dan only held onto him tightly, wrapping his arms around his waist and then burying his face into his ghostly stomach.

The presence of his child someone near his stomach made him recoil tightly, but he held still.

“Clockworkkkkkk,” Dan whined. “Can’t I kill the Flashes? Please? Just one! I’ll settle for killing Wally West. Can I please kill him?”

Clockwork couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of him. “No, you cannot. They are vital for that world’s survival.”

“They’re not vital to my sanity!”

The door burst open again and his other three children poured in, also having just finished fixing another world from collapsing. Dani immediately gasped at seeing Dan in his lap. “What! I want Clockwork cuddles too!”

The three of them joined their brother in crowding him and cuddling him, until eventually, he had all four of his children within his embrace. Clockwork released a sigh as he was forced onto his back and rubbed at Danny’s hair, who was lying on his spectral tail. Jazz leaned against him unhappily, and both Dani and Dan were laying on his stomach.

“I’m sorry for overworking you four,” Clockwork said, despite knowing that it wasn’t his fault. He had no one else to solve the problems of the Flash family, not when he was needed to watch over the time stream. “But it is necessary in order to help as many worlds as possible.”

“We don’t blame you,” Jazz said, ever the most empathetic, “it’s all of the Flashes’ faults!”

“I propose that we kill them and save us the headache!” Dan said.

Dani sighed, but also laughed. “Well, Bart is one of my best friends, but I guess he’ll have to go.”

Danny grinned and said, “Cool, I’ll take Flash.”

Clockwork smiled as his children (his wonderful, powerful, extraordinary children) started squabbling over how to kill or whether not to kill someone with the speed force. Work was difficult as someone who was devoted to protecting other timelines and worlds, but with his family by his side, life wasn’t too hard. In a way, Clockwork was almost grateful to be reborn as an Ancient.

Perhaps now, his family and existence wouldn’t end as tragically as before, with his children by his side.

[kimmie2me]

Hi hellooo<3 would it be alright to ask for something related to bunny izuku?💞

Soft Steps, Warm Gazes

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Bunny!Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader

…..

In the magical realm of Pristine Plains, where the sky gleamed with colors as vibrant as the world below, you lived in a cozy little cabin nestled between sun-dappled trees and winding cobblestone paths. Your home sat tucked under the watchful branches of an old willow, blooming wildflowers surrounding it in a burst of colors and soft scents. The ground was lush, warm underfoot even as you wandered between the garden beds, checking for ripe fruits and vegetables, their vibrant skins gleaming in the afternoon light.

Pristine Plains was a realm of endless wonders, home to all manner of creatures, each unique and astonishing. From dragons with scales that glistened like jewels to fae with wings iridescent as sunlight through stained glass—everyone here thrived in a harmony as delicate as it was beautiful. Your life was simple yet deeply fulfilling. Each morning, you picked the finest fruits and vegetables, arranging them in woven baskets outside your cabin, free for any traveler who might need a bite to eat.

Today, as you set a plump bunch of berries and bright tomatoes into a basket by your door, you noticed someone lurking at the edge of the trees. He wasn’t the usual traveler passing through, nor was he a neighbor coming to exchange stories and fresh goods. He was… well, adorable, really. A small bunnyfolk, standing half-hidden behind a tree trunk, with wide, emerald-green eyes that sparkled with curiosity and caution. His fur was a soft, dark green that glistened under the sunlight, almost like ivy in morning dew. He wore a simple tunic that matched the color of his fur, and his little nose twitched with what you could only assume was nerves.

You hadn’t seen him before, and you wondered what had brought him here. He seemed hesitant, shifting his weight from one foot to another, glancing repeatedly at the baskets of fresh produce beside your door. But despite his clear interest, he made no move to step forward.

So, you did what you always did for someone in need: you offered kindness.

With a soft smile, you carefully filled a small basket with some of the freshest goods—the fruits and vegetables you could tell he’d been eyeing the longest, the ones his gaze had lingered on. Strawberries, plump and red; a handful of shiny green apples; and a small bundle of leafy greens that you guessed might be a favorite for someone like him. You approached him slowly, your footsteps soft on the grass, not wanting to startle him.

He noticed you approaching, his long ears perking up in surprise, and his eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. His small, fuzzy hands went to his chest as if to steady himself, his nose twitching rapidly. But he held his ground, a hint of resolve in his gaze as he watched you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something softer, that you couldn’t quite place.

“Hello there,” you greeted, your voice gentle. You held out the basket to him, keeping your movements slow and kind. “I noticed you watching. I thought you might be hungry.”

His gaze flickered from the basket up to your face, his cheeks turning a shade pinker, the color spreading to the tips of his ears. “Ah… I… I didn’t mean to… um…”

You waited patiently as he stumbled over his words, clearly flustered, his little hands fidgeting with the edge of his tunic. Eventually, he reached out, tentative, like he was afraid of somehow offending you by accepting the gift. When his fingers brushed the basket, you saw them tremble ever so slightly, as if this was something he rarely allowed himself to do.

“These are for… for me?” he asked in a soft voice, his emerald eyes glistening with genuine surprise.

“Yes, of course,” you reassured him, your smile warm and open. “Please, take them. I always have plenty, and it’s nice to share with someone who appreciates them.”

He took the basket into his arms, holding it close like it was something precious, his face softening with a look of wonder. His gaze met yours again, this time with something shy but deeply appreciative. “Thank you… I—really, thank you so much. I was just… passing by, but…” He paused, glancing down at the fruits in his hands, then back up at you, ears twitching slightly as he struggled to find his words. “I didn’t know if it would be… rude to ask.”

“Not at all,” you replied, heart warming at his thoughtfulness. “I’m always happy to help. Besides, you look like someone who deserves a nice meal.”

At this, he turned a shade darker, his cheeks nearly matching the strawberries you’d given him. He mumbled a shy “Thank you” again, his fingers toying with the stem of an apple, his eyes flitting from the basket to you and back again.

As he lingered there, you noticed his gaze repeatedly drifting to the cabin and the garden behind you, his curiosity clearly sparked. It was adorable, how he tried to be so polite even when his interest was obvious.

“Would you like to come inside?” you offered, stepping back a little to give him space, watching his expression brighten in surprise. “I just brewed some tea if you’d like to join me.”

“Oh! Oh, I—um, yes, that… that sounds… nice,” he stammered, nodding a bit too quickly, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask.

You guided him up the small cobblestone path, his little bunny steps soft behind you as he followed, clutching the basket close to his chest. Inside, your cozy cabin was filled with warm, earthy scents of dried herbs and flowers, shelves lined with small jars and woven baskets holding all sorts of fruits, vegetables, and dried petals. A small, crackling fire added a comforting glow, casting gentle shadows across the room.

He looked around with wide eyes, taking in every detail, his gaze darting from one corner of the cabin to another, as though he couldn’t believe he was really here.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you said, gesturing to a cushioned chair by the fire. He settled into it with a little wiggle, his face lighting up at the warmth of the hearth as he held the basket in his lap like a treasure.

As you poured tea into two delicate cups, he glanced shyly your way, the tip of one ear twitching. “I’ve… never met anyone like you before,” he admitted softly, his gaze fixed on his tea as though he was afraid to say it out loud. “You’re so… kind. I mean, it’s rare. I… I usually have to…”

His voice trailed off, and he shrugged, a bit sheepish.

You watched him, a gentle understanding in your smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now. If you ever need anything, please feel free to visit. I have plenty to share.”

The bunny took a careful sip of his tea, glancing down shyly before finally gathering the courage to speak again. “Thank you again… for the food, and the tea… and, well, for all of this. I, um… I’m not used to people being so kind, you know?”

You tilted your head, a gentle understanding in your eyes. “That’s alright. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who appreciates it.” You extended your hand across the small wooden table. “I’m glad to meet you, really. My name is [Your Name].”

“Oh!” He set his tea down, quickly reaching out to shake your hand, his fingers soft and warm, and his touch delicate. “I-I’m Midoriya Izuku. You can just use my given name..if you want,” he said, his ears twitching in what seemed like both excitement and embarrassment. “I’m, well, a traveler… I like to explore and learn new things.” His green eyes brightened as he spoke, his nerves easing slightly. “Pristine Plains is so beautiful. I didn’t expect to meet someone as kind as you here, though.”

“I’m glad we met too, Izuku. It’s nice having a visitor who appreciates this place as much as I do. I’ve lived here my whole life, but it’s still so full of surprises.”

A small, surprised smile tugged at Izuku’s lips. “You must know every tree and flower in this place by heart, then?”

You laughed, a warm, gentle sound that made his cheeks turn even pinker. “Not every tree, but I’d like to think I know it well. I spend my days out here, tending to my plants and sharing what I grow with travelers. It’s a peaceful life.”

Izuku’s gaze softened, and he looked at you with a quiet reverence. “That’s… amazing, actually. So you’ve met a lot of people? I mean, all kinds, I bet.” He glanced down, ears twitching again as if suddenly self-conscious. “I hope… I mean, I hope you’ll let me come by again sometime?”

You smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Of course, Izuku. You’re welcome here anytime! I’d be happy to have a friend around.”

Izuku’s face brightened, and his expression softened with genuine gratitude. He took another sip of tea before glancing out the window, where the sun was beginning to sink, painting the skies in hues of lavender and gold. He sighed, a reluctant note in his voice. “I should probably head back before it gets dark. But… thank you. Truly. For the food, the tea, everything. I don’t know how to repay you.”

You waved a hand dismissively, shaking your head. “There’s no need. Just come by again, whenever you like.”

As he left, he turned back one last time, his face lit up by a grateful, almost reverent smile. “Thank you… for everything.”

.....

From then on, Izuku visited every day. Sometimes he’d bring you small gifts he’d collected on his journeys—crystals from nearby hills, feathers he found while wandering, and little tokens he thought you’d enjoy. Other times, he would spend hours helping you in the garden, his hands careful and his gaze admiring as he watched you work. He was good company, and soon, his visits felt like a natural part of your days, a friendship blossoming between the two of you.

One morning, you noticed Izuku was especially excited as he arrived, a glimmer of anticipation in his green eyes. “I was thinking… um, there’s a place I’d love to show you,” he said, his words rushing together with excitement. “It’s just beyond Pristine Plains, in a forest called Elkwood. I visit it sometimes when I need to clear my mind. But I think… you’d really like it there.”

Curiosity sparked within you, and you nodded eagerly. “I’d love to see it. Lead the way.”

Together, you made your way through Pristine Plains, the familiar paths soon giving way to denser trees as the two of you ventured into Elkwood Forest. The moment you crossed the threshold, you felt a subtle, gentle shift in the air, a kind of magic woven into the trees and the ground itself. It was as if the forest welcomed only those who carried kindness in their hearts, a feeling that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

The trees in Elkwood were taller and grander than any you’d seen, their trunks wrapped in glowing moss and their leaves shimmering with a faint, silvery light. Flowers in colors you couldn’t name bloomed around you, their petals glowing softly under the dappled sunlight.

“Oh! Look over here!” Izuku called softly, pointing to a small group of fairies that flitted about in the air, their tiny, glowing wings leaving trails of golden light as they moved. They seemed curious, hovering close to the two of you before darting away with musical laughter.

As you wandered deeper into the forest, you came across a pond, its water so clear it looked like crystal, reflecting the magical surroundings like a mirror. Baby dragons splashed in the shallow end, their scales glimmering in shades of blue and green, their playful cries echoing across the water. You felt as if you’d stepped into a dream.

Izuku watched your expression with a fond smile. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Only those with true kindness in their hearts can pass through the border surrounding this part of the forest. That’s why… well, that’s why I thought you’d love it here.”

You turned to him, touched by the warmth in his words. “It’s beautiful, Izuku. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He beamed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m just glad I could share it with someone who sees it the way I do. Most people don’t notice the little things, you know? Like how the flowers glow… or how you can hear the fairies singing if you listen carefully.”

The two of you sat by the pond, watching as the sun set behind the trees, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The soft chirping of the forest creatures filled the air, and for a long time, you both just sat in peaceful silence, absorbing the magic of the forest.

As dusk settled, Izuku turned to you, his eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the forest. “Thank you for coming here with me. I… don’t have many friends, you know? And I… I’m grateful for you.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m grateful for you too, Izuku.”

And as the stars began to twinkle above, you knew that this friendship—this bond—was something truly special, one that had grown from simple kindness and blossomed into something magical, as rare and beautiful as the forest around you.

[sherewrytes]

No letting Go, Connie x Black fem reader

Reader is Black Caribbean living in the US. So Caribbean themes are mentioned.

Song Inspo: No letting go - Wayne Wonder

The evening was alive with laughter, the dining table was crowded with platters of food—a mix of roasted turkey and baked ham alongside macaroni pie, callaloo, collard greens, the whole nine yards and then some. Y/N leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold as Connie sat at the all fours table with her uncles. They were deep in the game of all fours, cards slapping onto the table, and voices raised in competitive banter.

Connie had been holding his own pretty well, but her Uncle George was relentless. “You sure you know how to play, young man?” he teased, eyebrows raised in challenge. “Ain’t no mercy on this table, yuh know.”

Connie shot back a grin, eyes gleaming with determination. “I’m from Chicago, Uncle George—I think I can handle a little heat,” he replied, playing his card with a dramatic flourish.

“Look at this one eh, all this big talk!” another uncle laughed, shaking his head, but even Y/N could tell they were warming up to him. She hid a smile as she saw her cousin’s kid tugging at Connie’s arm, wide-eyed.

“Uncle Connie, you playing games like an old man!” one little cousin giggled, arms crossed. “When yuh done losing, gimme a piggyback!”

The kids swarmed him, nearly tipping him off balance as they clamored for a ride, the uncles’ game momentarily forgotten as they chuckled at the commotion.

“Hold on, hold on, I got y’all!” Connie laughed, setting down his cards and lifting the youngest one onto his back. He was soon parading around with a line of laughing kids, doing playful spins and ‘galloping’ around like a makeshift horse. Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter as she watched him be surrounded, completely at ease in the midst of her big, boisterous family.

Meanwhile, her aunties had been giving Y/N sly looks all evening, observing her and Connie from across the room. Eventually, Aunt Marcia sidled up beside her, nudging her with a playful smile. “So… this is the boyfriend, eh?” she whispered, eyes twinkling. “He’s handsome, I’ll give you that.”

Y/N tried to play it cool, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, he’s alright,” she teased, though her grin betrayed her.

“Alright? Girl, please!” Auntie Pam chimed in, fanning herself a little too dramatically. “That boy is good-looking, polite, and clearly gets along with the family. He ever been to church with you? We got space in the pew for him.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to keep her tone casual. “We’ll see, Auntie Candice. One step at a time.”

Just then, as if sensing their attention, Connie looked over at her, catching her eye with that smile that had won her over the first time they met. Her aunties noticed and began nudging each other, a chorus of “ohhhs” and “mmmhmms” echoing as they shared amused glances. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, giving them a playful glare.

As Connie returned to the spades table, Auntie Marsha lowered her voice. “Don’t lose that one, baby girl. He looks like the type that’ll stick by you.”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of music shifting in the background, and then that song started playing. The opening notes filled the air, and Y/N’s heart skipped as she felt a thrill of recognition.

Connie turned his head, his face lighting up as the beat hit, the unmistakable rhythm of Wayne Wonder’s “No Letting Go” drifting through the room. His grin widened as he looked at her, and without a word, he pushed his chair back and made his way over.

He reached for her hand, his eyes warm and mischievous. “Alright now,” he murmured, pulling her toward the makeshift dance floor in the center of the living room, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what you know about this song?”

She let out a laugh, feigning innocence. “Maybe enough to know you don’t have the moves to back it up,” she teased.

“Oh, is that so?” He tugged her close, hands settling firmly on her waist. “Guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

The crowd parted a little, and Y/N’s family watched as he began to sway to the rhythm with her, guiding her hips to meet his, their bodies moving in perfect sync. His fingers slipped down her sides, holding her just tight enough to keep her anchored to him as he leaned in, lips brushing her ear as he sang the words to her.

“No letting go, no holding back… because you are my lady,” he crooned, his voice low and steady, each word wrapped in a confidence that made her heart race. The way he looked at her, like no one else in the room mattered, sent a warmth spreading through her chest.

The family watched, amusement and approval clear in their eyes as they cheered him on, encouraging every movement. “Alright now, Connie!” one of her cousins called out, fanning themselves as if the moment was too hot to handle. “Don’t get carried away, it’s Thanksgiving!”

Connie chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as he tightened his grip, leaning closer until their foreheads almost touched. “Not makin’ any promises,” he whispered with a wink.

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling the energy of the song pulse through both of them. The world faded away as he sang along with the lyrics, his hands moving to guide her hips as they moved together, lost in their own rhythm.

“Really appreciate you loving me, after all that we’ve been through,” he sang, voice soft yet full of meaning as he gazed down at her. She felt her cheeks warm, her chest tight with emotion, unable to look away. His smile softened, eyes reflecting that unspoken promise of his, something deeper than she could put into words.

The lyrics hit their final verse, and Connie pulled her in, his hand trailing up her back as he sang, “Girl, I am so glad we’ve dated… no letting go, no holding back…”

Their family’s cheers and whistles echoed around them as the song ended, but Connie held her a moment longer, his forehead resting against hers. The way he looked at her, his eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name, made her feel like she was glowing from the inside out.

“Alright now, alright!” Uncle Leroy’s voice cut through, bringing them back to the moment. Connie pulled back, grinning sheepishly as her family’s laughter filled the room, but Y/N could see it—the way his smile lingered just a bit longer than usual, like he’d had just as much trouble as she did leave the dance floor.

Connie finally stepped back, but not without giving her waist a playful squeeze and a whispered, “You really didn’t think I’d show out like that?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

“Well,” he replied, pulling her close one more time, his voice low and teasing. “Guess I’ll just have to keep proving you wrong.”

[vampiresbloodx]

Enemy. chapter one.

pairings: Jinx x reader, vi x caitlyn, v x reader, various characters.

synopsis: when you, a tired full time bartender who gets paid shit and lives in a small one bedroom apartment gets sucked into the world and battles that are happening around you all at once, you just wish you could remain blissfully unaware, you'd prefer not to know others business, as it's never good, then you meet a girl named jinx, and you grow more and more attached, which has always been an issue for you, to make things worse, you not only have to make sure neither of your friends kill each other while being stuck in the middle.

word count: 907.

warnings: fluff angst suggestive themes, adult jinx still canon season 2 but not really I fear idk her confirmed age so just putting it out there, canon typical violence, found family, PTSD, pain, alcohol, reader is a bartender, mutual pinning, hurt/comfort, arcane season 2 spoilers!!!!.

Jinx. 

The name you are starting to hear a lot as of late, you’ve always heard whispers of her, some call her silco’s daughter, you could honestly almost believe the story yourself when you look at them standing by each other. 

But you know the truth more than others know. 

You weren’t even sure of your own part in the story here, in everyone else’s lives, Jinx stuck around you because she wanted to, and she claimed to like you, a lot, so much so that you ended up one day coming home and finding her laying on your bed, like it was nothing, knowing you did not mention where you stayed at all to really anyone. 

“Is this your place? Cool.” 

Jinx murmured, unbothered as there was a curious look in her eyes as she looked everywhere, going through your stuff without asking for permission, as you rolled your eyes in annoyance at her. 

“Do you have to be any more of a creep?” you asked, slightly disappointed but not surprised by this. 

It's not like the two of you sit down and discuss your feelings to each other, how the other makes the other feel, what you really mean to another, nope, none of that. Anytime you even ask Jinx about anything she gets pissed and walks off in a huff, having an attitude towards you, blaming you all of a sudden, you see how her cheeks get red as she stutters her words more than usual, its cute, but you just wish you two would fucking talk. 

“Yup.” 

You watch as Jinx goes through your clothes, pulls out some underwear and your sports bras, holding them up as she winks at you, you stare back dumbfounded. 

“fucking put that back-” 

Then it became more frequent visits to your apartment, well the one shitty bedroom apartment you could afford in this hole, for a while, you worked as a bartender, still do, you were good at your job, making customers happy as you made their drinks and put a smile on their face, you met so many people, that’s how you’d regularly see Jinx. 

She’d come to your bar just to talk shit and complain about everything and everyone, but you always ended up enjoying her presence the more she came, she didn’t even ask when you will be off or when your shift started, she didn’t care about those details, because she knew that already, you called her a stalker and she laughed loudly like it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. 

Some days, Jinx bothered you more than anyone else could, you were so used to the solitied life that now you were longing for the connection of others. You hated it. The feeling that ate away at you, eating at your soul, your body, your flesh, your mind, heavily. And the one face you always saw that was a constant was her. 

And so, you grew attached. 

Unwillingly so.

She knew that, which is why she stayed around on purpose, because she knew how lonely you were deep down, you’d never admit it, but you like having her around, hearing her stupid jokes and her loud ass laughter, her non stop talking and rambling, it made everything less quiet, and it took your mind of a lot of things. That was kind of nice. 

You wondered if you were that to her as well. In a way. You weren’t sure. 

If you could grab her face by your hands and scream everything you wanted to say and more to her, you would. You just didn’t want to lose her. She could easily walk away and leave you behind, you couldn’t handle that. 

For a while, Jinx would randomly leave without a word for a couple of days, weeks even, you got sick of waiting for her, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, wanting to hear her voice again, it never came, until you woke up one night at three am, trying to get a decent sleep in when you felt warmth next to you and arms wrapping around your body, you freaked, almost stabbing the girl with the knife you always hide underneath your pillow for safety reasons, she chuckled, “my girl, so feisty, just the way I like them” she murmured. You stared confused at her, this isn’t the first time she’s invited herself over for the night, but something about tonight felt different, instead of wanting to cuss her out, you watched her fall asleep, she looked so at peace, it was strange. 

The next day you woke up to her trying to cook you breakfast as you threw your pillows at her, still annoyed as she acted like nothing happened, laughing. 

Then she found out you were friends with a certain pink haired girl and her blue haired lover. 

What a small world it is. 

It was hard though, and still you were going to do it regardless, you didn’t care what happened to yourself, you care too much, too little, it was all consuming, overwhelming you, that Jinx hopes even she doesn’t break you. 

Before you even do that to yourself. how much of a mess you were in between choosing your friends, being on their side or Jinx’s side, watching them chase after each other like crazy, as there was you, in the middle, making sure neither of them get too close for your liking. 

[belladonnadawn]

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

"Too impaired by my youth to know what to do." You learned the hard truth that love is never enough to make someone stay. Andrew Marston x Reader (Thank you for oomfie @soscarlett1twas for helping me choose the title!) Masterlist!

Settling in a new life with him is one of the biggest decisions in your life. You would be lying if you said that there's no anxiety and guilt looming over you during that processs. But you knew that those were nothing compared to a life with him.

Over time, the words from other people became a distant past– muffled by what you felt with him and what you have with him. It felt like he truly knew you from your skin to your bones. He saw your flaws, knew the skeletons in your closet and he still loved you.

The days with him were brighter, the skies were clearer, and you were the happiest that you have ever been.

But seasons are not unchanging.

There was a sudden shift in the air, you knew it when his smiles does not meet his eyes. When his kisses weren't as deep as before. When the warmth in his touches suddenly grew colder and colder.

You knew when and what changed– but you don't know why.

You convinced yourself that it's a phase– when honeymoon phase ended, you'll enter another phase in your relationship. Maybe it was his job, especially on how tedious it can get. It happens all the time and couples survive. You and Andrew will survive.

Until you got a whiff of the perfume.

It filled your lungs in a suffocating manner— the scent leading to a new territory you did not want to traverse. For now, you turned away, holding your breath as you hugged him home.

As you pulled away you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, carrying the thought that eases your fears– even for a while.

It's not uncommon for him to interact with other people. It's not uncommon.

The dim glow of the lamp filled the room as midnight crept in. Your body ached after a busy day of work and running errands. Despite that, you were happy that you had something to take your mind off of your relationship with him.

Staring at the empty space, you closed your eyes and traced his side of the bed. His absence made you miss him more and you wonder if he misses you too. With a deep sigh, you calmed yourself down. You began to plan tomorrow, wanting to surprise him to lessen his load. Especially now that Andrew has been working hard after picking up late night shifts.

Your ears perked up at the silent sound of the door opening. Sitting up, you smiled as Andrew walked in your shared bedroom, but that smile quickly faded as his eyes didn't meet yours. What caught you is his expression, it was filled with exhaustion– almost somber.

"How's work?" You broke the silence, hoping to break the ice.

"It's the same," Andrew answered with a sigh, giving you a tight lipped smile.

For a while, silence filled the room; the one pulling you down in your thoughts and leaving you unsure. The sounds of his clothes ruffling as he got ready for bed was the only noise heard in the room, otherwise it was silent.

Gathering the strength that you have, you asked him the question you've been itching to get an answer from, "Are you okay?"

Andrew nodded, sitting beside you. He sighed, eyes downcast as he seems to be lost in his thoughts.

"I need to tell you something that has been weighing in my mind."

As those words leave his mouth, you can feel yourself tense up, bracing yourself for the news that he might bear.

Andrew spoke, his voice quiet and vulnerable, "These past few weeks I've been feeling some things… I– This feeling lingered more than I thought it would. And I don't think I can hide it from you anymore…"

You swallowed, trying to rationalize his statement, racking your brain if you did something to hurt him intentionally or unintentionally.

His eyes looked at you once more– you wished he never did. Those eyes that looked with you with adoration and love is now devoid of it. Something inside you died the moment your eyes met and you wish he knew that.

"I am… I deeply apologize for the hurt that I caused or I may cause you. I don't feel the same way anymore. I'm sorry."

You felt your heart drop as tears well up in your eyes. It was the last thing that you expected. The pain squeezed your heart tightly, draining every hope and possibility that this can still be mended. It was the end and you were there to witness it.

"Is there someone else?" Your mouth ran faster than your brain.

"I…"

Your eyes widened at his hesitance. The thought that it couldn't hurt more couldn't be more wrong at that moment. Now, you were beyond shattered. "Andrew?"

"I don't want you to think that—"

"Is there someone else?" Your voice firm and unwavering. If he can't give you happiness, you want him to give you honesty at least.

Andrew looked at you once more as he slowly nodded, confirming your deepest fears. He spoke once more, his voice small almost quiet, "Yes, I'm sorry."

Time went still as your world crumbled. You were rendered speechless as his words continues to ring in your head. There's someone else. He's in love with someone else.

Andrew held your hand, "I don't want to hurt you, because deep down in my heart I still love you. But I can't lead you on. You deserve someone who won't hurt you like this. You deserve better." He squeezes his hold gently, but somehow it never stopped you from breaking.

"But what if you're the one that I want?" Words struggled to leave your mouth as you spoke through your sobs.

"I'm sorry."

Closing your eyes, you cried harder. You were conflicted between wanting to curse him out or beg him to stay. But what would those do if you're don't have a hold on his heart anymore?

So you stood up, packed your belongings, and left. The once muffled sounds that you've drowned out came back to haunt you again. This time, you agreed. You really were naive.

Divider: Cafekitsune