#i'm playing it much safer now and it feels good

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: discussion of past abuse, Simon’s trauma Request: take your baby to work day

You're wide eyed at the front door.

"You sure you guys will be alright?" Your voice is clear, but your hand trembles on the door handle, bottom lip tugged across your teeth.

"We'll be okay sweetheart. But if you're uncomfortable, or it's too much, you should take him-"

"No, no. I'm fine. You're not supposed to bring the baby to OB appointments anyway. It's frowned upon." You roll your eyes, tipping up to kiss Ry on the cheek. "Just... don't let anyone breathe on him, or kiss him, okay? His immune system is still fragile compared to ours. I packed you like, three bottles so hopefully he'll take them if he gets hungry. Text me if-"

"Mama." He holds Orion in one arm, and grabs your hand with the other. You're frightened, and stressed, and he's driven to comfort you, the need to soothe you throbbing across his skull. "I've got this. We'll be just fine. Text me when you're done. Get yourself a tea or something afterwards, alright? Everything is going to be okay." You nod.

"Right, of course. You're... you're right. And you're going to a military base, I doubt there's a safer place around."

"C'mere." He tugs you into his side, and you wrap your arms around his stomach, nestling in opposite Orion. "I need you to do something f'me."

"What?"

"I need you to swear to me you'll tell your doctor about the dizzy spells." There's been a reminder card about your twelve week postpartum appointment on the fridge for two weeks now, and after you finally confessed you have been getting dizzy since Orion was born, and one time had even fallen, he decided to skip several steps by making the appointment for you. You were... not pleased, but he made it very clear, he's not playing a game with your health. He's planning his battles strategically now, putting pieces in play slowly, working towards his larger goal, but this was something he refused to compromise on.

"Okay." You whisper, burying your face in his chest. "I will." He lands a kiss to the top of your head.

"We'll see you soon. It'll be over before you know it, and maybe we can get a takeaway for dinner?" Your lips crack into a toothy smile.

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright, lad. Let's go see daddy's team." Orion stares at him, brown eyes curious, and watchful. He’s still not used to it, this feeling. This life, with you and his baby. Everyday, he has to stop to ground himself, anchor himself. Break from the cycle of a downward spiral, obsessive thoughts playing with his mind, counting down the million and one ways he could lose you, or fail you, or both. He’s careful, he’s diligent, he’s in control. He’d never make a mistake like he did before, the error of judgement that cost him his mother, his brother and his family-

But the incessant fear never ceases.

Fortunately, his anchor now is you. You, when you let him carry you to bed, when you watch him rock Orion to sleep as you stand in the doorway, you who curls up next to him on the couch now, fingers curled into his shirt like you’re afraid he might disappear. Your touch heals. Your words comfort. He can't fathom a future without you, or Ry, now.

If he thinks back on it, he wonders if he knew all along. If all the things he felt the night he met really meant forever, just like he had wished. A fantasy turned reality-

to have and to hold.

His stomach turns, wondering if his father ever felt this, if he ever loved, or if he was always just a monster, the ouroboros of victim turned abuser, the man who terrorized his mother, his brother and himself, long past the time Simon finally tore him to pieces, cracked his ribs, beat him into the ground.

Tommy broke the cycle, and from the moment he laid eyes on his son he knew.... he would too.

Price's secretary looks like she's seen an actual ghost. "Hey, Lindsey. Is he in?" She's staring, flicking back and forth to Orion and then up to his face, mouth slightly agape.

"Y-yeah he's..." she points over her shoulder at his closed door. "Lieutenant, did you... is that... is that your baby?" He nods, mouth curving into a proud smile, stepping close enough so she can get a good look at him. She almost jerks back, clearly not used to being so close to him. He's been here and there, off and on base all week catching up on a backlog of reports, but hasn't said a word to anyone, and he keeps everyone on base at arm's length except the 141.

"It is." Her shocked expression melts, hesitantly reaching her pointer finger towards Ry, allowing him to wrap it up in his chubby little fist. "This is Orion." She smiles at him, and then the baby, kindly.

"He's beautiful." She excuses herself when the phone rings, and he settles the tension burning between his shoulder blades. He didn't mentally prepare for this moment, didn't believe he had to. The expectation of Price's acceptance was assumed but now, his trepidation is a surprise.

He told his captain he needed to take leave for something really important, but never said for what. All he told him is that he'd loop him in soon, and that he was sorry he wouldn't be available for the next op. If John was curious, he didn't let him know, didn't push him for more info, didn't pester him. He just sent the forms to Simon's email to be filled out with a postscript:

Looking forward to hearing what this is all about.

And when Simon crosses the threshold of his office, baby in one arm, backpack stuffed with nappies and bottles in the other-

John Price laughs.

It's not the huff of a chuckle that Kate usually gets out of him, or the rolling guffaw that he gives the guys sometimes when he's particularly amused.

No, this is different. It starts in his belly and then rolls upwards, all the way until his shoulders are shaking and he's wiping his eyes.

Simon scowls, and John holds both his hands up, palms out. Surrender. "This is a good enough reason as any to take a chunk of all that leave saved up." He stands, stepping around to get a closer look. "What's his name then?"

"Orion." John nods thoughtfully. The backs of his fingers brush along the baby's arm, gently, slowly, a flicker of longing, of sadness, arcing across his face before it dissipates.

"The giant hunter Zeus banished to the skies." Organized stacks of paper sit in neat little piles on top of John's desk, authorizations he'd know anywhere. They're moving out. "Where's his mum?"

"At a doctor's appointment." Orion gurgles, and Simon pats his back, bouncing him slowly from side to side.

"You with her?" The answer is immediate.

"Gonna marry her." John's eyes fill with mirth.

"But she doesn't know that yet, does she."

"No," Simon sighs, "but she will. 'ts why I needed the leave. Besides," he motions to the infant tucked in his arm, "this, helping take care of him, taking care of her, I need to get them moved to a secure location. She's in a second level flat right now, with street facing windows. It's makin' my skin itch." Price will get it, Simon knows he will understand. He has his own secret at home, tucked away in a house only Simon and Laswell know about, just in case.

"Take it slow, don't want to spook her. Although I can't imagine she's too skittish if she took you to bed." He smirks. "You've got the time you requested. Had to call in a substitute for this one, but we'll need you on the next."

"How long?"

"Five weeks, maybe more. I'll ring when we're back on base." Five weeks. The clock is ticking, a bomb waiting to detonate, a guillotine waiting to sever his time with his family, his duty dragging him away.

"Alright." He concedes. Cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If Price sees his reluctance, he doesn't comment on it. "Bird'll be here in six hours. Boys are in the rec room, if you want to see 'em." Simon nods, shifting the baby in his arms as he heads towards the door. "And Simon," he turns, locking eyes with his captain, raw emotion plain on both their faces. Price gives him a genuine smile. "Congratulations. You're going to be a great father."

There's a lump in his throat as he crosses the campus to the rec room, his nose dipping across Ry's head, breathing him in as deep as he can behind the black cloth mask. "He's gonna be your godfather, little man. We just have to get Mama to agree, don't we?" He tugs the building's door open, ignoring the streams of chatter suddenly grinding to a halt in the hallway. Once he makes it to the rec room and sees that no one else is inside, just Johnny and Gaz battling it out in an intense game of pool, he slips the mask off his face and locks the door.

Soap is the first one to see him. "Steeeamin' jesus, LT is that a bairn!?" Kyle chokes on his water.

"Is that your baby, Riley?" They both scramble forward, Johnny whistling in disbelief.

"Aye, he's got to be. Look at the size of 'im."

"Johnny." Simon gives him the 'settle down' look, but the Sergeant only grins impishly.

"He's hers, innit he?" Gaz reaches, and Orion watches him with interest. "The girl from the bar. The one who lives close to me." Johnny's eyes go wider than globes.

"Ach Ghost, ye been busy wit' that boa-"

"Johnny." He hisses, and Kyle barks a laugh, reaching. Simon doesn't balk about handing Orion over, even though you were cautious about letting other people be around him. This is his team. He trusts them implicitly.

"He's a heavy lad, isn't he?" Kyle bounces him back and forth, all the while Ry stares at him with his head tipped back, mesmerized. "Looks jus' like you."

"Maybe a wee bit more handsome." Johnny's leaning around Kyle, his hand on Ry's back. They're mooning over him, two decorated, strategically brilliant sergeants, cooing at a baby like a bunch of sooks, as Johnny would say.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, a text from you letting him know you're finished, and heading home.

>Has he eaten?

>No, hasn't seem interested.

>Thank god.

Knowing you're probably in pain makes him antsy to get back, and he glances at the guys. "You movin' out in a few hours?"

"Aye, lookin' for some sort of stolen intelligence. Shouldnae be too long. Got a rent-a-Lieutenant and everythin'. Ye'll be back for the next?"

"I will. Stay frosty out there. I expect you all back in one piece."

He triple checks the carseat, testing the straps and the strength of the seatbelt before finally deciding it's secure enough, for the hundredth time today. He takes one last look, and presses a kiss to Orion's head. "Ready, bub? Let's go home and see mama."

[joelscruff]

you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+

welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/ i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy! summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link

"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."

"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."

He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.

Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.

"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.

"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.

One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.

You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.

"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.

"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"

"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."

You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.

"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"

"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."

He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.

"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"

"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."

You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.

"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.

He smirks, "Yeah you are."

You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.

"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."

After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.

"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"

"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."

He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."

There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.

"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."

He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"

You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"

He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"

You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."

"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."

You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.

He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."

"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."

You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.

Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.

"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."

"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."

"That's right."

"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."

"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."

He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."

"Yes it-"

"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.

"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"

"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."

"We don't-"

"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."

His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.

"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.

He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."

You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."

"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."

You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.

"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."

You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.

Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.

"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."

He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.

He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.

"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."

Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

this is now a series, and other parts can be found on my masterlist.

[emelinstriker]

May you share your TFP Decepticon headcanons 👁️👁️

If you want specifics, then their domestic lives? (Or what one can achieve akin to a domestic life in time of war 💀)

I did NOT expect to see any ask regarding TFP- Or at least till I switch fandoms again- So like I can't really think of many X Reader headcanons right now. So I just wrote down like 3 for each. I'm also not quite sure how to condense domestic points, cuz I suck at general fluff when my hyperfixation is elsewhere- So sorry if these don't feel like they're really in the domestic direction fhgnfhg

Only doing some Decepticons though-

☆ ~ Headcanons ~ ☆

☆ Megatron

He do be a busy mech, so he doesn't have too much time on his servos. Therefore he cherishes it whenever he gets to have private moments with just his human and no interruptions.

Likes to carry you around on his shoulder pad- It just generally makes it safer for you, in his opinion, and more comforting for him.

Any that would merely look at you weirdly would face the wrath of Lord Megatron. You can tell him not to punish the other Cybertronian though. He does listen... sometimes.

☆ Starscream

Mans refusing to show affection towards you around other Decepticons, especially Megatron. But he's just melting around you when in private.

He prefers recharging with you lying on him. It's oddly soothing having his human on his chassis.

Tends to look for you as comfort whenever he had a bad day with Megatron.

☆ Soundwave

Despite the amount of work he does and how busy he is, he doesn't really fail at also paying attention to you. He's truly a multi-tasker.

Would let Laserbeak play with you though if his extra appendages and music can't keep you busy.

Very loving towards his human. He may not talk, but he uses emoticons on his visor to display how much he loves you.

☆ Shockwave

Just don't play with whatever materials he needs to conduct his experiments and you're good to go. Play with his antennae and ear fins while on his shoulder pad instead.

He gets easily distracted by his human. He knows it's illogical with the major size difference, and how he should just be able to ignore you. But he can't help it nor explain this phenomenon.

He also also can't explain why he has this urge to gently pat you with a digit.

☆ Knockout

While he does buff himself on his own, or has Breakdown help him, he does enjoy it when you're buffing him instead as well. Especially when he's in his alt mode.

Speaking of which, expect drive-in theater dates. Just don't get his interior dirty with snack crumbs.

Worries a lot about your health. If you're sick, he'll keep you close to him to make sure you're actually alright. But no kisses from him till you're no longer coughing and sneezing. He just buffed himself and doesn't need your sickly fluids on his frame.

☆ Predaking

Tends to pick up you up whenever he wants attention. You were talking to Steve? Nah, now you gotta give your giant mecha dragon pets and kisses.

He also enjoys carrying you around on his frame whenever he can. At least he won't have to look where he goes this way.

While he has to go on missions from time to time, it's not a common thing due to his value, so a lot of his time is spent protectively watching over his human.

[rootedinrevisions]

Not Just Some Option

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and hidden feelings, you and Tyler Owens, the charming and fearless storm chaser, find yourselves tangled in an unspoken connection. One quiet evening at home in Arkansas, the walls of denial crumble as the tension between you finally comes to a head. Tyler’s frustration with your reluctance to open up sparks a raw, emotional confession, forcing both of you to confront the depth of your feelings. As truths are laid bare, Tyler proves his devotion with words and actions, leaving no room for doubt that his heart belongs to you—and only you.

A/N: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Some Angst. Fluff. Some brief kissing/making out.

WORD COUNT: 2k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’d always been good at hiding your feelings for Tyler. After all, what choice did you have? Loving him quietly from a distance was safer than risking everything and losing him for good. You told yourself you were fine being his best friend, the one he could count on through thick and thin, the person who knew him better than anyone. But sometimes, like tonight, the weight of unspoken words felt like it might crush you.

His arm was draped over the back of the couch, and you leaned into him, trying to focus on the movie playing on the screen. The warmth of his body so close to yours should have been comforting, but it only reminded you of all the times you’d wished for more.

And then his phone buzzed. Again.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at the screen. It wasn’t your business who he was texting, no matter how much it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest. You tried to ignore the flashes of girls’ names, the way his lips quirked up in a small smile when he typed out a reply. But when the fifth buzz shattered the silence, you couldn’t help the sharp glance you shot at his phone.

“Who is that?” you asked, keeping your tone light, though the words tasted bitter in your mouth.

Tyler barely looked up. “Oh, just that brunette from Kansas. You know, the one from the bar.”

The knot in your stomach tightened. You remembered her well. The way she’d draped herself over him, batting her eyelashes and whispering in his ear, like she owned the right to his attention. And the worst part? He’d let her.

“Right,” you said, your voice tight as you turned back to the TV.

Tyler frowned, his focus shifting from his phone to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you lied, your eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I said I’m fine, Tyler.”

You could feel his gaze on you, sharp and searching. “Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, your fingers clenching the edge of the throw pillow in your lap.

He sighed, his tone turning frustrated. “Why do you always do this? I know something’s bothering you, but you won’t tell me. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

Because if I tell you, I’ll lose you. The words screamed in your head, but you couldn’t say them. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if your confession made things awkward, and ruined the easy friendship you’d spent years building? You swallowed hard, your throat tight with unshed tears.

“Forget it, Tyler,” you said softly. “It’s not important.”

“Bull,” he shot back, his voice firm. “It’s important if it’s upsetting you. Talk to me.”

The frustration in his voice broke something in you, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “I don’t like watching you with other girls, okay? I don’t like it when you’re texting them or taking them home. It hurts, Tyler. It kills me.”

The room went silent, the only sound the hum of the TV in the background. Tyler stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You…” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “You feel that way about me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Tyler. But I know it doesn’t matter."

"It does matter. I want you." He said softly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You could have anyone you want. Why would you want me?”

The vulnerability in your voice must have hit him, because he reached for you, his hand gently tilting your chin up until your eyes met his.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” he said, his voice low and intense.

You blinked, the words not fully sinking in. “Tyler, don’t—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ve wanted you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same. And yeah, I’ve been an idiot talking to other people, but that’s over. I’m done with anyone else. I just want you.”

You shook your head slightly, tears spilling down your cheeks. “How can I believe that? After everything? I've seen you take I don't even know how many girls back to your hotel room.”

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. 

“Then let me prove it to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, and the world fell away. It wasn’t rushed or tentative—it was a kiss full of everything he couldn’t put into words, everything he’d been holding back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Do you believe me now?”

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I believe you.”

“Good,” he said with a small smile, his hand still cradling the back of your neck. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Tyler didn’t wait for your response. His lips found yours again, firmer this time, more insistent. The hand cradling the back of your neck tightened slightly, anchoring you to him as his other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request, and when you parted them, a quiet gasp escaped you as he claimed the moment. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring, tasting, and igniting sparks that spread through your body like wildfire.

Your hands, which had been resting awkwardly at your sides, moved on instinct. One slid up to his shoulder, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. The soft strands felt warm under your fingertips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving a gentle tug, earning a low, almost guttural sound from him that sent a shiver down your spine.

He shifted, his body pressing closer to yours as the kiss turned more heated. You felt his fingers flex against your waist, holding you firmly but not harshly. The way he touched you was deliberate like he was savoring every second, every tiny reaction you gave him.

“God,” Tyler murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse and breathless. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His confession hit you harder than you expected, making your chest tighten and your head spin. You barely had time to process it before he kissed you again, tilting his head to deepen the connection.

You melted into him, letting go of the doubts and fears that had held you back for so long. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it all felt so right, so natural.

Tyler’s hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing just under the edge of your ribs before it settled lightly on your cheek, guiding your face to stay perfectly aligned with his. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the hunger in the kiss, and it left you breathless, craving more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air. Tyler pressed his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the charged silence. His hands framed your face, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns along your jaw.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. “I want you. Only you.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone, and all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping his shirt as though letting go would break the spell.

“I don’t want this to be just a moment,” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t want to go back to pretending.”

“We won’t,” Tyler promised, leaning in to press a softer, slower kiss to your lips. “No more pretending. Promise.”

Tyler’s promise hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt the truth of it in the way his hands lingered on your face, in the way his gaze bore into yours like he was trying to memorize every detail.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. It wasn’t just passion; it was something deeper, something that made the world outside this moment fade away.

You sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing into his as you let yourself get lost in him. Tyler responded by pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying against the cushions of the couch. He leaned over you, his weight balanced carefully on one arm as his other hand caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

His kisses trailed away from your mouth, moving to the corner of your lips, then along your jaw. Each touch of his lips sent a spark racing through you, and when he nuzzled against the curve of your neck, you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

“Tyler,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He hummed in response, the low, rough sound vibrating against your skin as his lips found the spot just below your ear. 

“I love the way you say my name,” he murmured, his breath warm and tantalizing against your neck.

You bit your lip, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It grounded you, reminding you that this was real—that this wasn’t some fleeting dream you’d wake up from.

Tyler pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his expression softer now, almost hesitant. 

“I need you to tell me something,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held his gaze. “Anything.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his brow furrowed as though the answer truly mattered more than anything else.

The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say this,” Tyler continued his voice steady but laced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere. This doesn't ruin our friendship. You’re not just some option to me. You never were.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them. You’d spent so long doubting, second-guessing, convincing yourself that this connection between you was one-sided. But now, hearing him say it, seeing the conviction in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Tyler...” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “No more doubting, okay? No more wondering if you’re enough. You’ve always been enough. For me, you’re everything.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could say anything else, Tyler leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to prove his words with every movement, every gentle caress.

The heat between you began to build again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hand slid down your side, resting just above your hip. You felt his fingers curl slightly, holding you with a mix of reverence and restraint.

The sound of the rain tapping against the window faded into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered—not the doubts, not the fears, not the years you’d spent hiding how you felt.

In this moment, it was just you and Tyler.

And for the first time, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[jelliedink]

Ancient Vampire Partner as a Service Top Headcanons

Warnings: Pure smut. Mentions of death, blood, violence. No gender specified, but reader do get periods. Implication of abusive relationship. Author's note: I wrote an extensive introduction to this post, but then I realised that was mostly me rambling. So I decided to get straight (and kinda gay) to the point. Shall we? Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Here's my take on how I think the sexual dynamic between a human and their ancient vampire lover would go:

Your ancient vampire partner knew they had to be gentle and careful with you. Much like us when carrying a newborn puppy, they were aware of how easily your bones could break if they got too excited. Since sex for them was now more of an echo from their human days and not a survival need, they were ok with going without sex for long periods of time, perhaps waiting until you were ready to be turned. For now, they thought it was safer to wait.

You, on the other hand, were very much not ok with this. You were human, your body evolved to make happy chemicals from sex. As if that wasn't enough, the main survival strategy of your partner's species was looking hot as fuck to lure humans, getting their thoughts so clouded by lust that they'd ignore the stone cold touch, the sharp fingernails, the bluish hue of their skin and the sharpness of their teeth. Your whole body went crazy just by looking at them.

They knew you couldn't help it. So, whenever you were needy and in the mood, they didn't mind putting you on their lap, back against their chest, and touch you until you've had enough. They loved being able to make you feel good, whispering on your ear while playing with your body: "What do you want to try today?" "Do you want me to get one of our toys?" "Does it feel good like this?" "Is this intensity enough?"

In the days you desperately needed to feel them inside of you, they ignored their own desire while watching you ride them mesmerised, gently guiding your hips up and down while kissing and caressing whatever part of your beautiful, soft and warm body they could reach. God, how pretty you looked with your eyes out of focus, using their body to get off and scratch that itch.

And when you were too tired they gladly took the lead, paying attention to your every reaction, focusing on how to serve you better: "Hold my shoulders tight so I can reach deeper without hurting you, ok?" "Slow and steady, precious, or you'll be tired before we can have the amount of fun you deserve." "Here, it will feel even better if you touch yourself too."

But they were far from being selfless. The moment you got your period they morphed into a feral and self-serving beast, unable to control themselves any more than a hungry lion would if near a trapped deer. This was one of the very few times they could feed off of you and they were not letting all this food go to waste.

You'd get properly cushioned in a comfortable position, a heating pad on your lower belly, your legs on their shoulders and they would lick you clean. Prepare to be there for a while, no amount of begging would make them let you get up until they're finished. Of course you always tried to. Every time this happened, they'd first try to convince you with love and praises, but their tone got increasingly more authoritative and mean until you couldn't recognise your lover anymore. "My baby, you taste so good." "How can you be so good to me, my little angel?" "Can't you hold on just a bit more? Please? For me?" "Oh, you're being tortured with too many orgasms? You poor thing, that sounds so terrible." "Pretty, you're not getting up. Don't think that you have a choice just because I'm trying to be nice." "Maybe if I show you how painful I can make it you'll realise how good you're having it stop being such a whiny ungrateful brat. You want this, my baby? You want me to hurt you? So don't make me hurt you."

In the end they'd kiss your whole weak body and your puffed teary face while begging for your forgiveness. They'd say they don't deserve you, they are a monster, they just don't know how to control themselves when you smell like this and they were so hungry. You'd be pampered: a hot bath, body massage, your favourite food, that thing you've been eyeing for so long but was way too out of your budget.

They'd do just about anything you ask for. Anything but promise not to do it again.

[hyukalyptus]

heyy could u do smthing like txt reactions to u using the safe word while at it????

omg of course!! i love this idea sm.

cw. use of safe word, all of them stop ofc, sex, rough bdsm stuff is not mentioned, soob is big and clumsy and reader likes pushing limits, gyu uses red/green/yellow system and likes pushing limits, pet names (baby), aftercare, tae's kinda vanilla and feels guilty, kai is kinky asf (but that's not discussed here; go check out lia's duality for that lol), cuddling, kissing.

smut(?) under cut!

yeonjun - omg honestly i think he’d be the absolute sweetest. stops in his tracks, lifts his hands off you, but stays inside you to wait for further instruction. doesn't apologize because you've ask him not to in the past (makes you feel guilty) and he's worked so hard to make sure you feel safe with him and that you're not hesitant using the safe word. he's so proud (but doesn't show it) that you feel safe enough to use the safe word with him. "what did i do? what can i do to make it better?” doesn't touch you until you say its okay. once you've caught your breath and have calmed down, he very cautiously and with your permission picks things back up, finishing you, but he doesn't finish himself. he can get off later.

soobin - he's the one that insisted on creating a safe word in the first place. he knows he can sometimes be just a bit too clumsy and a bit too big that he doesn't know if he's hurting his sex partners or if they're just playing into it. so he learned quickly that he needs to establish a safe word every time, especially since you like pushing the limits. things start getting a little too hot and heavy for your liking and he's getting a little too carried away. it feels so good at first, until he takes it just a bit too far. typically, you're usually comfortable enough to ease him down with body language and talking, but something was off today and you needed it to stop. he comes to a slow stop, relaxing his hands, loosening his grip on you and turning them into soothing strokes and caresses. asking and giving exactly what you need.

beomgyu - first of all, i see him as the type to use the red, yellow, green system. and can definitely see him pushing you into yellow a lot. and he loves it (as do you), but he's cautious. the second you say red, he drops everything. "was that too much for my baby? i'm sorry..." going to get you some water and sitting down to have an in-depth conversation about what was too far. "did you like the idea of it and i just went too far? did you want to try it again but slower? was what i did completely out of the question now? what can i do to make you feel safer next time? do you feel safe right now?" turns into soft and slow aftercare that eventually warms up to slow and sensual sex to make up for it.

taehyun - i think feels the most guilty out of them. he doesn't strike me as the kinda guy to be super into kink stuff, so i think he almost doesnt know how to handle it other than apologizing. asks a lot of questions, like, "are you okay? you sure? do you want me to finish you? i'd be happy to if you like." and you agreeing that you'd still like to come as long as he still wants to and is comfortable to keep going but as soon as he's inside you, "are you sure you're okay if i finish too?" maybe becomes a bit too nervous before both of you agree its better for both of you to stop completely and cuddle the rest of the night.

hueningkai - honestly i feel like kai's kinky asf and i will not be silenced any longer. he talks a lot about it with you beforehand anyway, so its rare that you (or any of his partners) get to that point because he knows all ur limits and how to push them and how to not push them too far. so you saying it is a bit of a shock, but he knows exactly what to do. drops everything, slides out of you, asks what you need from him. and when you request cuddles, he's the biggest cuddle bug ever. cheek kisses, whispers in ur ear about how perfect and beautiful you are. dragging his nails down ur arm. omfg i love him.

[sycamorelibrary754]

We're a Family

Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Some mentions of grief.

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning as you gathered the last essentials for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since your child's birth in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight. 

“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend. Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.

“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.

It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. Your whole world changed from the moment you both laid eyes on her. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for consultation and recruit training or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.

You heard little feet padding down the hall as your daughter entered your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up and down on her head. “I'm ready, Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed. 

“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.  

“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu. 

“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.

After packing your luggage in the car, you drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning, Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied as Mila let go of Natasha’s hand and ran ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.

As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen, and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick. 

“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room, and Mila ran into her arms.  

“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!” 

“I love it, malayshka. It's so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”

“Yeah, about that,” Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”

Mission briefing?" you asked, confused. "Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”

“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter,” motioning to the group before you.

Your heart warms at how protective your wife was—the Black Widow. She was a woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children to giving nothing but love to both of you. 

Just then, Tony and Bruce entered the living room, arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind. 

“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha declared. 

“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolled her eyes in response as Tony and Bruce hugged you before sitting down, and Pepper picked up your daughter.

“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.

“Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.

“Okay, here are some quick dos and don’ts for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front of our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm, and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her bedtime story. If she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”

“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.

“It’s going to be alright, Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip. 

You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.” 

Just as you complete the sentence, Mila runs back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we will watch it tonight before bedtime.” 

“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you will be a good girl for your aunts and uncles, and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said. 

“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugged you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their unique way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony had offered one for easy and convenient travel. 

*^~^*

By the time you arrive at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you returned to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed—lovingly cuddled under a blanket with Yelena. 

“See, she’s okay,” you said lovingly as Natasha smiled at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.

As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.

You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow. 

Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home. 

You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, which Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely, the walls came down for both of you. 

When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtook you all over again.

As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir. 

So much life has happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned and bought your house. Five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Returning to the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.

*^~^*

It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout. 

“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter. 

Before Mila can respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Clint grumbled.

“Then make your breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back. 

After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is working on a mission report in his room when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned shield, pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing. 

“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window. 

“Oh, hey, Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughed out loud. 

Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done. 

That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda. 

“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”

“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily. 

Peter nodded, and they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book for the next twenty minutes. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag. 

“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.

“You like it?” Peter asked.

“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila exclaimed. 

“Something like that,” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair. 

Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was typically annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.

“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.

“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “

Tony stops as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there. 

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carried them across the room to the top of the bookcase. 

Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. He put on his best poker face, “I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Peter gives Tony a thumbs up. 

“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab. 

*^~^*

You and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River in the city of love. It was magical. When your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol, you had seen the Musée d’Orsay the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.

“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?” 

“Paris, for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily as Natasha put her arms around your waist and lovingly kissed your cheek. 

“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.

“With the team if you’re going there anyway, could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired. 

“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”

“Thank you, Carol,” you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket. 

“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.

“Detka! We said no gifts this year. This trip is gift enough,” Nat facetiously scolded.

“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly. 

Natasha opens the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. Clint took one during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It quickly became one of your favorite photos of your small yet precious family. 

“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”

You moved Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were at that moment. 

*^~^*

The Sunday morning sun was slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie from her phone when The God of Thunder entered through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena but ran toward him when she realized only her Uncle Thor was materializing before them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug. 

“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked. 

“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”

He lifted Mila with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you, Mila,” Thor declared

“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed. 

“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.

“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered. 

“It is indeed,” Thor said, sitting cross-legged on the carpet before the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly, Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thor!” Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom. 

“You spoil her, you know,” Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen. 

“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.

Carol arrived shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.

“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.

“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece. 

“Fruits and veggies, right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila ran over and jumped into Captain Marvel’s arms. 

“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled. 

“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight,” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek.

*^~^*

As the sun started to sink on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the ancient city of Paris, you found yourself immersed in the rich history of the Louvre museum. You had eagerly anticipated this moment, and after spending the afternoon exploring the countless treasures within the museum's walls, Natasha was determined to ensure you had the chance to lay eyes on the iconic Mona Lisa. As you weaved your way through the bustling crowd of tourists, Natasha's determined presence caused a path to effortlessly clear before you as she kindly asked them to move the fuck over.

You returned to your hotel and enjoyed a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged. 

Carol: Hey, lovebirds. It's all good here. Mila is doing great and excited to see you when you return. However, you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘

Natasha giggled, showing you the text. 

“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple. 

Following Wanda’s delicious Chicken Paprikash dinner, your daughter watched Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.

“Hey, kiddo, do you want to come to the lab with me and see the new suit modifications that the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”

“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Sir, Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila while she is in our care.”

“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new holographic mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab. 

*^~^*

After a few hours, Natasha gracefully guided the Quinjet to a smooth landing. As the engines powered down, she took a deep breath and gently reached across the console to grasp your hand. Together, you gazed out at the glittering lights of the team living quarters in the distance.

"Thank you for making our anniversary so wonderful," you said. "I love you so much. I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family, which she will always remember." You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caressed your cheek.

You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.

“I know, my love,” you said quietly. “Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”

As you entered the compound, the air was filled with shouting and the excited barking of Fanny and Lucky. Natasha instinctively reached for her spare Widow Bites, but before she could react, both of you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter's laughter. Following the noise, you entered the common room to find your daughter joyfully running through the compound. She was wearing her pajamas and had one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets perched on her head while clutching a can of whipped cream. Yelena and the rest of the team were in hot pursuit, with puffs of whipped cream trailing behind her as she raced through the room.

Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.

Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha. 

“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms. 

“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wrapped Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same. 

“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes. 

“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily. 

Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure. 

“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.

“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom. 

“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one. 

She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team. 

A short while later, Mila emerged with her unicorn backpack, followed by Yelena, carrying more bags than she had when you dropped her off. You couldn't help but shake your head, knowing the team had showered her with gifts. Natasha crouched down to Mila’s eye level, tenderly placing her hand on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila made her way around the room, hugging everyone. It warmed Natasha to witness her family showering your daughter with so much love and affection.

Mila drifted off to sleep only five minutes after being placed in her car seat. Upon returning home, Natasha carried her to her bed with the utmost care. She tenderly laid Mila down, ensuring she was tucked in snugly, and then, both of you gently kissed her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. You decided to postpone the unpacking until the following day, feeling too exhausted from the long journey. In the bedroom, Natasha was sitting in bed, engrossed in a book with her reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. The day's fatigue faded as you turned off the bathroom light and joined her in bed.

“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love,” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kissed her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nat said, returning the kiss. 

As Natasha drifted into slumber, her mind wandered back to the tumultuous path that had brought her to this moment. She couldn't escape the memories of her past—a life of manipulation in the Red Room with no autonomy and the unending pursuit to cleanse her conscience of the bloodstains it bore. But then came the shot that Clint didn't take and the chance that Fury did. Her deeply unconventional yet cherished family culminated in the arrival of you and your precious daughter. In these precious bonds, Natasha Romanoff found the strength to thrive and, at long last, find peace.

[varpusvaras]

Roy stands in front of the stove and stares at the soup.

He watches it simmering, the surface gently bubbling every now and then, and he tries not to think too much.

It's been pretty hard, lately, not to think too much, but he has to do it, because if he starts to think, he will get angry again.

Roy can't afford to get angry. Not yet, anyway.

He stares at the simmering soup until it is ready, and he turns the stove off and takes the pan off of it, and he takes the nice bowl out of the dishwasher and starts to ladel the soup in it, because, damn it, he is using the nice bowl for this. Would it be safer to use the less nice ones? Maybe, but Roy doesn't feel like playing it safe and behaving like the nice bowl is above this.

He is getting way too agitated about bowls. Roy stops, breathes in the herbal scent of the soup, and continues to get the soup from the pan into the nice bowl. He then gets the high glass from the cabinet, because the nice bowl of soup needs a nice glass of water to go with it.

He then takes both and makes his way to the bedroom.

He stops at the doorway.

The ceiling is off, because Jason's eyes and head can't really handle too much light right now, but the desk light on Roy's side of the bed is on. Lian is laying on that side of the bed, curled as close to Jason as she can, with a book in her hands. It's one of Jason's, though Roy can't see which one from where he is standing, but the words he can hear Lian softly reading out make it sound very English.

Jason's eyes are closed, but his head is turned ever so slightly towards Lian, and from how he is breathing, Roy knows that he is awake.

It is something that any other time would only make Roy's heart swell with love and happiness, but right now, there is an ugly, bitter taste all over it, preventing him from truly enjoying it.

He clears his throat a bit. Lian turns to look at him over her shoulder, sees the bowl and the glass, and she takes the book and scoots to the edge of the bed.

"Lian."

Lian looks at him little pleadingly, even though by now, she already knows the answer.

Roy shakes his head. Lian turns her eyes down. She puts the book on the nightstand, and reaches to wrap her fingers around Jason's for a second, before she slides off of the bed. Roy steps into the room to get away from the doorway, so she can get past him and out of the bedroom.

"Thank you", Roy whispers to her as she walks past him. He then nudges the door closed and walks up to the bed.

He turns on the desk light on Jason's side of the bed. Jason twitches a little, his eyes flutterin and his brow pinching a bit.

"Sorry", Roy murmurs. He puts the bowl and the glass on the nightstand to have both his hands free. "I'm gonna move you up a little."

It's a familiar dance for both of them by now. Jason hums affirmatively, Roy steadies his back and neck and pulls him up a little against the headboard. Jason's jaw clenches because by now, the painkillers have stopped working and he is more lucid and definitely more aware of everything that is going on with his body, but he wants it this way, because being more lucid means that he can kind of eat on his own.

'Kind of' in this context means that he can swallow without spewing anything on himself, and that is something that Jason is willing to take, even if it comes with more pain.

Jason opens his eyes when Roy lets go off him to pick the bowl back up.

"How're you feeling?" Roy asks. He tries not to ask it every time Jason is even marginally awake, but it's difficult, because every time Jason closes his eyes, Roy can only see him laying there, bloody and still and him looming over his body.

It's been weeks now, and still, Roy can't seem to forget how he had felt back there, when for a one moment, he had thought that Jason was dead.

Jason just breathes for a moment. He has to do it a lot, as he cannot breathe very deeply at all.

"Fine", he says, which Roy deciphers as meaning not worse than the last time you asked. It's good enough, all things considered.

"That's good." Roy gets some soup on the spoon. Jason's left hand is in theory capable of holding onto things, but in reality, it still shakes too much for him to be able to do anything precise with it. So what he gets is Roy spooning the soup for him.

They don't speak while Jason eats. Just the act of eating takes too much of his energy, and he needs to focus to it in order to get it done. It is all familiar by now as well. After Jason has gotten at least some food and water down his throat, Roy will give him his next dose of painkillers, and then talk to him while he falls back asleep.

Roy knows that Jason hates it.

They have talked more than enough of their childhoods at this point. Roy knows all the unsavory details of Jason's story, and right now, at this moment, the ones of his mother, almost always unresponsive towards the end, with Jason trying his best to keep her alive by any means necessary, are at the forefront of both of their minds. Roy knows it.

He also knows that it is the one place Jason never wanted to end up in, and he's been there once already.

It is why he doesn't want Lian to see him right now, no matter how much he adores her. Jason had been alone, back then, taking all the responsibilities of adults when he had just hit double digits in age, and the last thing he wants is to make another kid go through the same. It's not the same, since Roy is there, but it is too close for Jason nevertheless.

Roy has tried to explain it to her, so she wouldn't feel like she's done something wrong. She understands, but with that understanding, has only come the need to help even more.

Roy loves her so much. He wishes that she never has to go through anything bad in her life.

Roy also loves Jason, and while he knows that there is nothing that he could've done for him before, he will never forgive himself for not protecting him now.

He doesn't say that out loud. Not yet.

Jason finishes half of the bowl before he just simply cannot make himself eat more. He accepts enough sips of the water to not be dehydrated and to get the painkillers down. Roy lets him stay sitting for a moment longer, before he lowers him back down onto the bed.

He says other things out loud. Simple things. Simple, loving things, that don't reveal how much Roy wishes to take all the pain from Jason and give it back. He will, eventually, because Roy knows Jason, and he knows that for Jason, saying those things out loud is love as well.

But not yet. Not yet, simply for the fact that if Roy does so, he will have to do as he says, right there, right then, and he cannot yet.

Not yet, when Jason still needs him like this.

Jason closes his eyes, slowly, as the awareness in them dims, and eventually his breathing evens out, as much as the painkillers allow him to not care about everything in him that has been broken.

Roy watches him sleep.

He is happy, now, that he listened to Jason and never told anyone, not even Dick, about them. As much as Roy loves Dick, he is now a safety hazard, a possible breach in this place that Jason has for himself. A place that no one will know to come and look for him from.

That is good. That is exactly what he needs right now.

That is exactly what Roy wants.

Batman will not be able to find Jason. He will not be able to come for him.

No. When the time comes, it will be Roy who comes for the Batman, and when that time comes, Roy will be ready for it.

[kandlewick]

i'll dry the villain's tears

t h e r o s e r e d t y r a n t ' s m o t h e r pt.2

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

You felt entirely too overdressed sitting here at the park. Your former body's wardrobe was obviously not meant for anything too strenuous and that apparently included just enjoying your time outside in the sun. You could feel the sweat gather in uncomfortable places... but your nerves weren't just because of the warm weather.

Trey's mother sat beside you, much more dressed for the occasion, and watched as Trey and Riddle reconnected. You could hear the two of them laugh and giggle as they began playing as if nothing had ever happened and the two were quick to run up the steps leading to the slide, followed by a whole gaggle of other children. You let out a soft sigh of relief at the sight.

Not just the clothes, but your body was so stiff and rigid it was hard to even relax as you tried to breath. Your back was straight as a rod while you sat on the uncomfortable park bench, your well manicured hands firm on your lap and you shuffled uncomfortably in place. Trey's mother eyed you from her spot on the bench and offered a small smile, like she was acknowledging how strenuous this whole situation was for you.

"I'm guessing you've never brought Riddle to a public park before, huh?" She crossed her arms and leaned on them over the table, linking her fingers together, "You look like you're about to faint."

You forced out a laugh, too embarrassed to meet her gaze and pulled at the high collar of your buttoned top. You could practically feel heat waves steaming off of you. "Something like that," you admitted, "I wasn't exactly a good mother when it came to recreational activities."

You inwardly cringed at your wording — what, is Miss Rosehearts vocabulary infecting you too?

Trey's mother hummed as she continued to look at you. You could feel her bright hazel eyes staring at you. You could feel a cold sweat drip down your neck.

"Please stop me if this sounds too forward," Trey's mother leaned back but quickly offered her hand to you, "but my name is Dinah."

You blinked up at her, startled. She... wanted you to shake her hand?

She offered up her hand again and made a motion for you to follow. Almost hesitantly, you reached out and clasped her hand in your own, shaking it. Her palms were so warm, comforting, almost the exact opposite of your body's cold touch. She smiled at you, the dimple on your cheek crinkling with delight.

"I figured since our children are such good friends, we could at least try and act cordial." She glanced over as your two children sat next to each other on the swing set, the elder Trey guiding Riddle on how to kick back his feet. Riddle was hesitant and stumbled a few times, but kept giggling all the same, obviously entranced.

"Trey likes to baby younger kids," Dinah smiled, "I wonder how he'd do with younger siblings..."

You noticed that too as Riddle followed him around like a little duckling chasing after its mama. Whatever Trey did, Riddle would follow even if it meant pushing his limits. Trey watched carefully from the other end of the playground as Riddle jumped from one platform to the next, his arms out and knees shaking as he tried to keep himself balanced. Whenever he would stumble and topple over the edge nearly sending him into a fit of tears, Trey was quick to act and followed him back to the beginning.

"He's a sweet kid." You mumbled, "You're a great mother."

She gave you an almost sympathetic look, noticing your tone before reaching out and grabbing your hand, "Hey, you're not doing so bad now either." She squeezed your hand in her own and offered you an encouraging smile, "Parenting isn't easy and sometimes you don't notice the damage until it's too late but look at you," She gestured to your whole self, "Better late then never, right?"

You both sat there idly chatting until much later then you had figured you would and before long, the sun had began to set, casting the park in a orange hue. You were caked in sweat but Riddle wasn't doing much better. The two children came back huffing and puffing from exhaustion, sweat dripping off their foreheads like rivers. Riddle looked especially tired, his cheeks a bright red.

"I think I'm ready to go now," Riddle sighed.

You gave him a small smile and pulled him close, rubbing your pristine sleeve against his cheeks and wiped away any of the dirt that stained his skin, laughing as he let out a soft whine. Trey wasn't faring any better and was quick to lean against his mother's lap. Dinah ruffled his hair but her face quickly grimaced at the sweat in his hair. The kids obviously were going to need a bath after this.

You pulled Riddle in to your arms and tucked him under your chin. His bright red hair tickled your face but you held him even closer as his arms wrapped around your neck. He let out a soft sigh against your shoulder. Trey, being much taller then Riddle, simply grabbed Dinah's hand. He tiredly looked up at the young boy in your arms and smiled, his hands raising to offer Riddle a small wave.

"Bye, Riddle. We'll play again sometime, ok?"

Riddle turned his head and nodded, a sleepy smile on his face, "Mmmhm..."

"We will do this again sometime, right?" Dinah lowered her voice and leaned over so that Trey wouldn't be in ear shot, "This isn't a one time thing?"

"Oh?" You blinked over at her. Oh! "Yes!" You reassured her, your voice a little too loud, "Yes, we would love that. Riddle would love to." I would love to!! You screamed in your head, eager to befriend her. You wanted friends too!!!

Dinah gave you a dazzlingly bright smile, "Then I think we should invite Chen'ya and his uncle next time too!" Riddle and Trey straightened up at this and you could tell the two of them were excited about the thought.

"His uncle?" You questioned. That doesn't sound very familiar.

"Oh yeah," Dinah laughed behind her hand, "Chen'ya's parents are always out of the country on business so he lives with his uncle and his grandfather. My husband and I are good friends with them both and his uncle is a really fun guy, I'm sure you'd find him... interesting!"

It would certainly be interesting meeting someone new that you had no idea about... plus you'd be able to apologize properly to Chen'ya and whoever his guardian was. It could possibly be very... fun. You could feel your body hum in excitement as you found yourself nodding eagerly, nearly bouncing Riddle in your arms, "I would like that very much."

And then after exchanging phone numbers, you and Dinah parted ways, the two children eager to return home and rest.

"Mmmm," Riddle hummed in your arms, his hold on you loosening as he began drifting off, "I had a lot of fun today —" He yawned loudly, his head burrowing itself further into your neck, a content smile on his face, "Thank you."

[schraubd]

Don't Doom Before You Have To

After a good few months of heady optimism, the mood amongst Democrats has gotten considerably more dour. It's not because Harris is behind -- while there might have been some tightening of the race, if anything, polls still have her (narrowly) ahead. But I'm hearing more than a few liberals who are already preemptively resigning themselves to a Trump victory, glumly relaying an anecdote or a sentiment that it just "feels" like it's going to happen. And this is being paired with preemptive capitulations by major institutions, which is a very bad sign that some of the powers-that-be are already trying to get in good with a future dictator. I'm inclined to agree with Paul Campos that the main instigator here is that we were dashed in our hopes of putting the election away by now. As he says, "it’s not much comfort to someone who thinks there’s a 50% chance that something absolutely catastrophic is about to happen to tell that person that hey be realistic, it’s probably only 45% or even 40% if you squint just right. For my part, the prospect of bringing a child into the sort of world that Trump would wreak in 2024 is outright terrifying. If in 2016 I suddenly grasped feeling safer in a blue state, looking out to a second Trump administration in 2025 I wouldn't feel safe anywhere. They'll be coming for us no matter where we hide. And if this is the end (as is alarmingly plausible) of America's global preeminence, well, historically speaking those sorts of falls rarely occur without destroying a lot of lives and livelihoods in the process. I can't say that doom might not be coming. But there's no sense in dooming before one absolutely has to. Right now, there are still things we can do -- not just desperate rear-guard actions, but real, genuine moves that can push America in the right direction. If Trump wins, our best options will be somewhere in the field of "battlefield trauma surgeon trying to stop the patient from completely bleeding out." We're not there yet. It's a little over a week until election day. Play to the whistle, and play to win. We can decide what comes next once next comes. For now, let's do this. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/xDwAKh9

[bones4thecats]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do Poseidon X Goddess of music!Reader and the reader rarely come out of her house and if she does for example: when she goes to any meeting she always has this mask on:

and she always sits next to Poseidon for some reason she feels safe with him...?

Thanks if you do this request!

<3

God of Music! S/O Feeling Protected

Type of Writing: Request Character: Poseidon Name: God of Music! S/O Feeling Protected Requester: @imperfectbloodmoon

A/N: These may not be the best thing I've ever written, but I'm trying my best to keep up with stuff from my classes and with these requests. But, I do hope you guys enjoy this!

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🔱 Alright, let's get one thing clear; Poseidon is a fairly oblivious man when it comes to emotions, which should be obvious

🔱 Poseidon was fairly wary when you first started to get close to him. He just isn't used to anyone trying to bond with him in any way, because many see him as a dangerous being

🔱 Which he technically is

🔱 Now, if you were a mortal or nymph, this guy would just push you aside and claim you to be a worthless being, not worthy of his time and patience

🔱 But, once he asked you who you were and you introduced yourself as the Deity of Music within the Greek Pantheon, working alongside that of Hermes and Apollo, he began to see you with more worth

🔱 Poseidon enjoys listening to your songs that you either sing or play on an instrument. He personally enjoys more slow and calming songs while he looks over his underwater kingdom

🔱 And he does enjoy your more reclusive nature, since he's not a very large people-person himself

🔱 He understands a lot more about you than anyone could realize, even yourself for that matter

🔱 But one thing he never fully understood was your need to wear that beautifully decorated mask that covered your entire face whenever you were to leave your shared home

🔱 Poseidon has claimed his love for both your personality and your looks often, though he's fairly monotone sounding, you can hear the amount of pulsing emotion underneath

🔱 Whenever he gets notice that one of his brothers is coming over, he tries to get you to keep the mask off; these are your family members, after all. They know how you look because they attended your wedding all those centuries ago

🔱 If you were to give him a good reason (such as; you didn't want Zeus to try protruding into your backside) then he would understand a bit better. But if you claimed you believed you didn't look good enough, he'd be beyond shocked

🔱 Like I mentioned earlier, Poseidon has claimed his love for both your personality and physical appearance. So the fact that you would still be insecure would make him feel the need to prove you were beyond good enough for a God like him

🔱 Okay, beyond the topic of the role and mask. He, like I also mentioned, doesn't understand emotions fully

🔱 Because of this, Poseidon is quite confused whenever you wanted to sit by him (before your relationship) at meetings, since normally everyone, deities included, were scared of him

🔱 Yet, every time you sat beside him, he never tried pushing you away, much to both of yours and everyone else's surprise

🔱 Despite his inability to understand why you personally wanted to be beside him, he does have quite a few hunches that many believe is true

🔱 One is that you wanted to be by someone who you knew wouldn't be to loud, the second is that you wanted to be closer to him, as he is in your pantheon, and his third one is that you wanted to be with somebody because you wanted to feel safer and protected from other Gods who may have bad intentions

🔱 Poseidon always mainly leans to the third one

🔱 After you guys started your relationship and got married, he started to have you sit right next to him. And by that, I mean by he'd have you sit either on his lap or right beside him

🔱 If I haven't mentioned it, he's possessive of what he deems to be his. Yes, he does allow you to be your own person, but he doesn't want anyone to get any ideas; specifically Zeus

🔱 He cannot keep his hands to himself, and that is coming from his own older brother!

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Remus Lupin X Reader: The reunion

Warnings: angst, self hatred, lost lovers, fluff, sadness, smut, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving) fingering, blowjob, rough sex, soft sex, penetration (p in v), making out, pet names, dirty talk, happy ending.

Word count: 5,5 K

It has been a long time since you’d last seen Remus but you remembered the day like it was yesterday. You remembered the feeling of his skin warm and barely out of reach. You remembered the strangled sound that had left your lips as you begged him to stay with you. And most of all you remembered the words he’d uttered before he’d turned around and walked away.

“I can’t.”

You had never fully understood what he meant. For years you’d racked your brain over his words, trying your hardest to understand what exactly was stopping him from staying. And then one day you stopped asking yourself what you’d done wrong. You couldn't change the past, you couldn’t make him stay and that was just how things were. 

You’d never expected to be back at Hogwarts. It had been years since you last stepped foot in the Great Hall and yet here you were, standing in front of the professores tables with a smile plastered on your face. You had a lot of fond memories in this place. Your eyes trailed over the table, snippets of your time as Hogwarts flashing through your head as you gazed around the empty hall. Your smile faltered for a moment when your eyes fell on a particular spot of the Gryffindor table. 

His spot. 

You could picture him sitting there with James and Sirius on either side of him, his eyes glued to the book in his hand. He’d raise his head from the pages, his eyes finding you in the crowd. The image of his smile was clear in your mind despite not having seen it for a long time. It almost felt like you were back in your eighth year. Back when things were good. Before it all went up in flames. 

You were sure you would have kept staring all day if a familiar voice hadn't brought you back to reality. You turned to look at Mcgonagall as she called out your name. She moved gracefully towards you showing the same professionalism she had back when you were in school. Before she could put out her hand for you to shake you’d pulled her into a hug. She let out a surprised gasp as your arms wrapped around her thin frame.

“Come on now Minnie, I think we're past the handshaking phase of our relationship.”

Mcgnagall stayed immobile for a split second before wrapping her arms around you. 

“Oh how I've missed you dear.” 

Many people saw the professor as a strict person who didn’t care much about connections but they would be wrong. You’d known Minnie for years. Even after you left school you’d kept in contact and you could confidently say that she considered you a friend. It had been her who had called you back to Hogwarts after all. You pulled away from the hug, smiling up at Mcgonagall.

“So what did you need me to come here for? Not that I'm complaining. I love an excuse to wonder around here but your letter was very well-”

“Ominous?”

“Yes. Ominous is a great term.”

“Well, you know how it is. Can’t risk information getting into the wrong people's hands.”

You knew about that all too well. Information getting into the wrong peoples hands had been what had caused you the loss of your friends. From then on you’d all become more careful with who you told things to. It was safer that way. Especially with the things that had started to happen in the last few years. Mcgonagall seemed to notice the way your eyes had started to gloss over, the memories creeping their way into your mind. 

“Don’t worry dear. It’s nothing bad. I actually think you’ll enjoy it quite a bit.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Walk with me.”

You followed Mcgonagall through the halls of Hogwarts watching the students stumble from one classroom to the other. You observed the groups of friends chatting about things. It all felt so very familiar. It felt like coming home. And then your eyes fell on a young boy. You’d recognize him instantly.

“Harry.”

There was no denying the similarity he had to his father. You and James had gotten into loads of trouble when you were younger and even though you weren’t the best of friends you’d been one of the first people to meet Harry. 

“He’s gotten so big.”

“Yes he has. He looks so much like his father.”

“He really does.”

“Do you want to say hello?”

Your head snapped in Mcgnagall's direction, teary eyes searching for any hesitancy but found none. She really meant it. You look back at the trio before you, observing the way they laugh with each other. He looked like his dad but laughed like his mom. You’d recognize Lily's laughter anywhere. Everything inside you begged for you to walk over and greet Harry but there was a small part of you, a sensible part, that didn’t want to. You were scared of how he’d react. There was no way he’d remember you anyway, you’d meet him when he was a baby. And you didn’t want to risk putting him in any more danger.  

“I shouldn’t. I can’t risk getting too close to him.”

“Well that might be a bit hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it’s about time I told you why I called you here today.”

Mcgnagall started walking again, moving away from Harry and his friends. You glanced at the boy once more before following her.  After a little while you’d made it to the entrance of a classroom. Which you recognized as being the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. That is if they hadn’t changed things around since the last time you’d been here but you doubted they had. You looked at Mcgonagall questioningly. 

“What exactly are we doing here professor?”

“Well we’ll be needing to replace our current Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts for next year and it so happens that I think you’d be a great fit for the job.”

“What? Minnie, are you serious? You want me to work here, at Hogwarts?”

This didn’t seem real. Hogwarts had always been your favourite place to be and the chance of working here and being near Harry seemed too good to be true.

“I can’t promise anything but me and Dumbuldore think very highly of you dear. We think you’ll do a fine job here.”

“Godric's Minnie. You have no idea how much I've dreamed of this.”

“Oh I think I might have some idea.”

Mcgnagall looked into the classroom for a moment as if contemplating something before turning back to look at you.

“There is one thing I'll need you to do. It’s typical to do an interview with the Headmaster but seeing as Dumbledore is dealing with a lot at the moment and I too have many things to resolve. Your interview will have to be done by the current professor.”

You bit your lip nervously. You had never been great at interviews, especially with people you didn't know much.

“But don’t you worry. Me and Dumbuldore have the utmost faith in you and we are sure the professor will go out of his way to make you feel comfortable.”

“Okay Minnie if you say so.”

“Wonderful. Well then dear go on in. He should be waiting for you already.”

You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes for a moment before turning towards the classroom door.

“Okay, here we go.”

The classroom was just like you remembered it. The layout hadn’t changed at all. The only thing that was different were the objects inside the room which you knew changed according to the professor's class. You walked towards the back of the room going up the staircase that led to the professor's office and knocked at the door. You heard some shuffling behind the door followed by a “Just a moment”. You recognized that voice. Could it be? No way you had to be making things up. Being at Hogwarts made you nostalgic, that's all. There was no way it was him.  And yet when the door opened there he was. Standing directly in front of you was none other than Remus lupin. Your Remus.

The one that got away.

Remus had been nervous about the interview. He wondered if the professor would tell his replacement exactly why replacing him was needed. He knew Mcgnagall would never openly tell anyone about his condition but being that a vast majority of the school had already found out it was inevitable to keep it a secret from the new hire for a long time. He wondered who had been picked to take over his teachings. From the way Mcgnagall spoke of them they seemed like a very smart person. Just the type of person Hogwarts needed. Remus hated the idea of leaving Harry after everything that had happened but it was probably for the best, considering a small amount of the boy's issues had been a consequence of his condition. 

Remus had always loathed being a werewolf. It bothered him greatly. He blamed that part of himself for losing people, the fear of hurting someone dear to him making him push everyone away. It was what he had done to you all those years ago and despite hating the thought of hurting you it had been the best choice. He’d spent the months after he left you hating himself more than usual. He’d wake up in the middle of the night calling out your name only to remember you weren’t there. He’d hear your laughter as he made himself coffee in the morning and would be haunted by the way you called out for him the night he left as he got ready for bed. You meant everything to him and that was precisely why he’d pushed you away.

Over the years Remus had thought of writing to you many times, mostly when it was close to a full moon. He craved your sweet words the morning after his transformation. He missed the feeling of  your hands against the new scars that always seemed to find their way onto his skin as the animal within took over his body. But most of all he missed the way you looked at him. Always with pity but never with fear. You knew he would never hurt you on purpose and yet that was exactly what he’d done. The knowledge that he’d caused you pain was what kept him from reaching out to you. He knew he’d probably die before ever seeing you again but if that meant never hurting you like he had then that was a sacrifice he was willing to take. It was all working out like he had planned. That is, until he found you standing in front of his office door, your features mirroring the surprise he felt inside.

Remus froze in his spot, his eyes glued to the sight of your beautiful face. A face he thought he’d never see. A face that looked just as he remembered it. You too were stuck to your spot eyes moving over Remus’ features gaze catching at the new scars that were on his face. They hadn’t been there the last time and the thought of him being all alone after receiving them made your heart break. Remus longed to touch you, his hands twitching beside his body as he forced himself to keep his distance. You opened your mouth to call Remus’ name but before you could get it out he spoke.

“Come on in.”

The words felt odd coming out of his lips. A phrase far too professional for someone he’d known for years. But it made him remind himself that this was not a moment to catch up. You hadn't come here to see him, you'd come here for a job interview and that was what you were going to get. You walked into the office, eyes falling on Remus’ things. It was a familiar sight, one which you’d missed dearly. You watched as Remus made his way to the chair behind the desk, taking a seat before gesturing you to do the same. You did as he asked, sitting down on the chair opposite to him. You were only separated by a desk but it felt like such a great distance. Remus reached into his drawers pulling out a piece of paper and setting it down on the desk before him. You observed him in silence. He picked up a feather dipping it in ink before glancing up at you.

“Name and age please.”

“What?”

“Name and age.”

You furrowed your brows, staying silent for a moment before answering. 

“Great. So why do you want this job?”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, a job interview. As far as i know.”

He had to be fucking kidding. Here you were sitting in front of Remus, someone you haven't seen in years. Someone who had left you outside in the cold as he walked away. Someone who had ripped your heart out and stepped on it like it was nothing. And the first thing he does when he sees you is act like an arse? Like hell! You slammed your hands on the desk raising from your seat in fury.

“You have to be joking.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

He hated the way he was talking to you. He hated the way he was acting. But most of all he hated himself. He hated himself for pretending nothing had happened. He hated himself for making your face twist into the scowl you were now wearing. But it didn’t matter. It was better if you hated him. It would make watching you leave easier. But he should have known better. He should have known that you were the type of person who fought for what they wanted. And not the type of person who left when things got hard. That was what was different between you two. While Remus ran from love you fought for it. He had always loved that about you but right now he wished you’d just punch him in the face and leave. 

“Unbelievable.”

You let out  a pained kind of laugh. Your eyes moved over Remus' face as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“So that's how it is, hum? Rip me to shreds and just pretend it didn’t happen. Might as well just spit in my face Remus. ”

A frown found its way onto Remus’ face at your words. He knew he deserved your rage but it still hurt. 

“Fucking say something!”

Remus' eyes widened as you yelled at him. You never yelled at him. Not even he’d helped James sneak Veritaserum into your coffee. Or when he’d messed up your first date with a guy because he’d gotten too drunk. You hadn't even yelled at him when he left. No like this anyway. Not with such anger. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes, a combination of anger and sadness taking over your body. It made Remus jump into action. He got up from his chair, making his way to you. You put your hand out telling him to stop.

“Stay away.”

Remus called out your name, slowly moving closer to you. The tears were falling quickly now making your face glow. You closed your eyes, a sob leaving your lips as you kept your hands out in front of you. You opened your eyes when you felt something come in contact with your palm. Remus had made his way to you. You looked up at him, your face twisting in anger as your hands turned into fists. You hit Remus' chest once waiting for him to react. When he didn't you kept hitting him and he let you. He let you hurt him because he knew he deserved it. The energy your anger had given you seemed to run out, your palms coming up flat against Remus chest as your body heaved forward in a strangled sob. Remus took his chance, pulling you into him. You tried to push away from him but he didn’t let you. The familiar scent of chocolate entered your nose. Godric how you’d missed that smell. Remus' body warped around you, the warmth making you feel tired all of a sudden. You stopped fighting to get free. Instead you sink into Remus, letting him hold you. Remus relished in the feeling of your body near his. He'd forgotten what it felt to hold someone like this. Your breathing started to slow down as you stopped crying, your body finally draining itself of all the sadness that had consumed you for years. He was back in your arms. The man you’d loved so much was finally within your grasp and you weren’t going to let that go to waste. You didn’t know how long this would last after all. 

Remus felt you move against him forcing him to loosen his hold on you so that you could look up at him. Your eyes bore through his brown orbs a silent request hidden in your gaze. Remus knew what you were thinking because he was thinking the same thing. One of you just needed to do something about it. To your surprise Remus was the first to act. He leaned down, his nose bumping against yours before he crashed his lips into yours. The amount of desperation between you two was clear. Each one trying to grab onto any part of the other just to make sure this was real and not a figment of your imaginations. Remus kissed you with a fervour you hadn't felt in a long time. He kissed you like he was out of breath and you were the air he so desperately needed to survive. Your hands found their way into Remus' hair caressing his scalp with your nails, something you used to do to soothe him. He sighed into your mouth, tongue begging for entrance which you gave him. Your tongues danced around each other as Remus’ hands found their way to your thighs. He tugged you up off the ground making you wrap your legs around him. You both let out a moan as Remus hard on nudged against your clothed cunt. You were incredibly wet already, the years of longing making you needy. Remus wasn’t much better off. It had been so long since he’d last been with someone like this that he felt like a teenage boy all over again, trying his hardest not to cum in his pants. Remus sat you down on his desk, his hands moving against your pants as you tried to tug his vest over his head. You both laughed as each other's desperation got in the way of either one of you achieving what you wanted. 

“You first love.”

“Okay.”

You let Remus unbutton your pants. A moan left your lips as Remus shoved his hand into your underwear, his slender fingers moving to gather your slick.

“Bloody hell you’re wet.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Didn’t know if I still had that effect on you. After everything.”

You could tell Remus was starting to spiral into a feeling of self hatred so you grabbed his face in your hands. He looked at you with sadness in his eyes.

“I never stopped loving you, Rem.”

“I left you.”

“You did. And it hurt a lot but that's what love is.”

“What, pain?”

“No Rem.”

You pushed a piece of hair away from his forehead.

“To love is to forgive people for their mistakes.”

Remus’ shoulders sagged as he placed his forehead against yours.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that being far from you is the worst pain I've ever felt so please don’t leave this time.”

“I could hurt you. I could put you in danger.”

“Nothing will be worse than not having you near Rem. Nothing will ever compare to that. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

“I promise I'm not going anywhere this time.”

Remus placed a hand on your cheek giving you a kiss.

“And I think I know how to start making up to you for last time.”

“Oh yeah?”

Remus moved away from you, his hand reaching to the edge of his vest. You watch him pull off the vest before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Your eyes traced over his scars, the need to go over to him and kiss each one taking over you. But as you tried to get off the desk Remus moved towards you, his hands latching onto your thigh to keep you in place. “What do you think you're doing?”

You traced your fingers over the scar directly above Remus' nipple making him take a deep breath in.

“I want to kiss them.”

“Later love. Right now you’re going to let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Take this off for me.”

You did as Remus asked, removing your shirt and tossing it near his discarded clothes. Remus’ hands found their way to your breast giving them a squeeze before caressing your nipples through your bra.

“Fucking gorgues.”

You moaned at Remus’ praise, head falling back as you did. Remus took his chance, his lips latching onto your neck as he moved to palm at your thighs.

“Lift your hips for me love.”

You did as he asked, helping him remove your pants. Remus took a step back, his eyes racking over your exposed skin.

“Just like I remember it.”

“I doubt that. It’s been a while.”

“You’re still as pretty as ever, love.”

You blushed at Remus’ words. He had a way of making you flustered with the simplest of words. Remus moved back to his original position, dropping to his knees before you. You brace yourself as he removes your underwear, his fingers bumping into your clit and making you whimper. In another life Remus would tease you before delving into your pussy but it had been so long and he missed you. He missed the taste of you. Missed the feeling of your thighs against his head as you came. Missed the way his name sounded coming from your lips. So instead of making you work for it Remus shoved his face into your dripping cunt. You grabbed onto Remus hair as he ate you out, a grutell sound leaving your lips as you rutted against his face. Remus ate pussy like a king. Anyone who’d been with him knew that but when he was with you he always seemed to go the extra mile. He knew what made you scream and he was set on reminding you just how good he could make you feel. Your thighs clamped around Remus’ head as he entered a finger into your cunt. It went in without any resistance causing him to enter two more digits. You wailed above him, the feeling of fullness making you scream.

“Shh love. There are students around. Need something to keep you quiet?”

You nodded as Remus’ question mouth opened for him. He understood your request, moving his free hand up to your lips. Your hands latched onto his arms, shoving his fingers into  your mouth. Remus moaned into your pussy as you sucked his fingers, the vibrations adding to the pleasure he was giving you. Before long your pussy started to clench around Remus fingers signalling to him you were close. He sped up his movements, sucking on your clit as his fingers ploughed into you. You came with a yelp of Remus name, your hands wrapping around his with a bone breaking grip. You collapsed onto Remus’ desk, your legs still placed around his shoulders as he continued to lap up your juices. He didn’t want any of your sweet nectar to go to waste so he kept eating you out until you groaned due to the overstimulation. You whimpered his name, making him raise his head from your cunt. The sight of Remus beneath you, face covered in your slick, made you want to rub your thighs. Lucky for you Remus sensed your need for a break, rising from his knees so that he could kiss you. He leaned his body against yours pulling you into a smearing kiss. You bit at his lower lip, making him groan and hump against your thigh. You felt his dick rub against your exposed skin, a hunger growing inside you.  Remus loved eating you out but you knew he also loved watching you suck his dick. You give Remus’ shoulder a push, signalling for him to get up. He did as you asked, raising to his full height before you. You climbed off of his desk dropping to your knees just as he had done. A shudder left Remus’ lips as he realised what you were about to do. You grinned up at his flustered face.

“Wanna fuck my face Rem?”

“Godric love.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes please.”

“That’s better. Take your pants off for me baby.”

Remus tugged his pants down eagerly, making you giggle. 

“Sorry. It’s been a while.”

“Better make it worth it then huh?”

You didn’t give Remus a chance to answer, your hands gripping his boxers and tugging them down quickly before guiding his dick into your mouth. The moment your warm mouth wrapped around his dick Remus knew it was over. He would have to marry you. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone getting the pleasure of feeling like this. Your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of his dick making him buck forward. You choked on him forcing  a growl to leave Remus' lips. There it was. You knew that sound anywhere. Remus had a tell, whenever he was about to become absolutely feral during sex he let out a growl. You’d become used to it, your jaw relaxing so that he could have his way with you. And that's what he did. Remus’ hand pulled your hair into a ponytail giving him a better grip. Once he was satisfied he started fucking into your mouth roughly. You placed your palms on the floor trying to keep your body steady as Remus used you to chase his high. 

“Mine all mine.”

He was babbling random words of praise, his hips moving widely signalling to you he was close to blowing his load. You moved your hands to remove your bra. Remus caught sight of your movements, mouth falling open as he caught a glimpse of your breasts. You moved your hands over your breasts playing with your nipples. The intention wasn’t to bring yourself pleasure, you were putting on a show for Remus. He’d always liked seeing you bring yourself pleasure as he fucked his fist. Some things never change. Remus came with a grunt, hips sputtering wildly as he spilled his seed into your mouth. You swallowed every bit, proudly showing him your tongue after he’d pulled his dick out of your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me, love.”

“I see you still like seeing my tits.”

“Don’t think I'll ever stop liking that.”

“Good.”

You kissed your way up Remus body, making sure to give love to every scar within your reach. Remus smiled down at you once you made your way to your feet. You grinned up at him, placing a small kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Rem.” 

“I’m so sorry I left.”

“Shh don’t think about that now. Just be here with me.”

You placed your head on Remus' chest, your arms wrapping around his torso in a loving hug. Remus kissed your temple as he stroked your hair. He could feel your nipples against his chest and you could feel the way his dick twitched against your stomach. You bodies longed for each other and who were you to deny them?

“You got a bed?”

“Yeah through that doorway.”

“Well what are you waiting for professor?”

Remus smiled at you, his arms reaching down so that he could pick you up. You laughed as Remus carried you over to his bedroom in bridal style. He placed you on the bed gently before going back to lock the door. He’d waited years to do this. He couldn’t risk anyone running the moment. When Remus turned back to look at you, you had already changed positions. You had your back pressed against the headboard, your legs spread in a way that let Remus see your pussy. 

“Wet already?”

“I can’t help it, Rem. I’ve been thinking of fucking you for a while.”

“Oh yeah? Lucky for you, so have i.”

“You gonna keep talking or are you gonna come over here and show me how much you want me.”

Remus practically lept on the bed. He grabbed your shins tugging you so that your body was laying flat on the bed. You wrapped your hands around Remus' neck, pulling him into a needy kiss. Remus ran his tongue against the inside of your mouth as he reached down to grab his dick. You spread your legs more allowing Remus to manoeuvre himself. 

“It might hurt a bit.”

“Can’t be worse than our first time.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop okay.”

“Okay.”

Remus inched himself into your core. You clenched your teeth at the feeling of him. You’d forgotten how thick he was.

“You okay?”

“Yeah-ugh-keep going Rem pleasee…”

“Fuck your sucking me in. So fucking wet. My pretty pussy.”

“All yours all yours.”

Remus bottomed out, his body stilling as he allowed you to become accustomed to the feeling of him inside you. It stung a bit but soon enough the pain turned into need.

“Move Rem please move.”

“Shit love. Feel so good.”

Remus rocked into you slowly. It was a tender kind of thing. He wasn’t fucking you, he was making love to you. There was still a desperation in his movements. You could tell he wanted to go harder but was afraid of hurting you.You called out his name causing him to move his gaze from the place where your bodies connected to your face.

“Yes love?”

“Please fuck me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes Rem go harder fuck me like you need me.”

He did need you. He needed you more than he needed anything else and he was ready to prove it. Remus lifted your legs over his shoulders allowing him to reach a new angel. You moaned at the feeling of Remus deeper inside of you, the sound spurring him on. Remus started pistoling into you. You placed a hand against his headboard for support. The entire bed creaked and groaned as Remus fucked you with vigor. You were both close to coming undone, your moans growing more and more constante. It didn’t take long before you  came around Remus dick, nails digging into the skin on his back as you yelled out his name. Remus came not long after his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he spilled his seed in you. 

You felt Remus sag into your body. Your hands caressed his scalp as he tried to catch his breath. He placed his chin on your chest, a hand coming to hold your cheek.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I missed this. I missed you.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry for leaving. I thought I was protecting you but it turned out I was just making us both miserable.”

Remus sighed against your skin, his eyes watering.

“I’m tired of losing people.”

“I’m right here Rem. I’m not going anywhere.”

Remus furrowed his brows, his features contorting into what you knew was his thinking face.

“What is it?”

Remus got off of you moving to get off the bed. You raised your body leaning against your elbows as you watched him pace around. 

“Rem what-”

“I have something to ask you.”

“Okay…”

Remus stood before you with a smile before dropping onto one knee. Your hands moved to cover your mouth as Remus said your full name.

“Will you marry me? I don’t have a ring but I'll get one and I don't know exactly how it would work. Do I move in with you or do you move in with me? But we’ll figure it out.”

He looked up at you with loving eyes.

“So what do you say?”

You moved your hands, placing them over Remus' chest.

“I would love to marry you.”

Remus let out a delighted noise lifting you off the bed and twirling you around. You wrapped your legs around him, moulding your body into his. 

“I love you Remus Lupin.”

“And I will always love you my dear.” 

Mcgonagall looked out the window onto the grounds.

“I believe we’re going to have to find someone else for the Dark Arts job.”

Dumbledore looked up from his desk, glancing at the professor with a knowing smile.

“You were never going to hire her.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Love, professor.”

“What do you mean Dumbuldore?”

“Love always finds a way my dear Mcgnagall. And those two well…they’ve loved each other for a long time.”

Mcgnagall shared a smile with the Headmaster. He was right, the two of you had always loved each other. Anyone with eyes could see it. And something told the professor that her plan had worked out just fine. 

[frickingnerd]

there's only one bed…

pairing: adrien agreste / chat noir x gn!reader

summary: after multiple attempts to kidnap you, chat noir decides to stay with you for the night to keep you safe. but the two of you quickly realize that there's only one bed…

“are you sure there isn't anyone you could ask to stay with you? if hawkmoth sends another akumatized villain after you, we might not make it in time…”

chat noir was walking up and down your room, the sun already setting outside. he had been here for the last few hours, after an akumatized villain had attempted to kidnap you – again. apparently, hawkmoth wanted to get his hands on you, though neither of you knew why. chat suspected that there was more to it than what you were telling him, but he decided not to push it.

“if i called any of my friends, they'd just be in danger as well…”

chat sighed, stopping for a moment and sitting down on your bed. he knew that he couldn't keep you safe like this. and yet, he worried too much about you to just leave you by yourself.

“what if… i stayed the night?” he thought out loud, looking up at you. “if anyone can keep you safe, it should be me!”

you wondered if he was joking, though chat stayed completely serious. he meant what he said.

“are you sure…? i mean… not that i'm against it, it's just– aren't there people waiting for you at home? i mean, your civilian home…”

chat averted his gaze and you could see the sadness in his eyes. apparently, he had nobody waiting for him at home. or rather, nobody that cared enough to notice he was gone.

“i can stay away from home for one night. besides, you need me the most right now!”

he wasn't wrong. hawkmoth would try to kidnap you again and again. with chat noir by your side, you knew you'd be safe.

“thank you, chat…” you smiled softly. “if you'd like, i can lend you some of my clothes to sleep in! oh and you can take the bed, i'll just sleep on the floor!”

chat quickly stopped you.

“wait, i can't– no, i couldn't possibly take the bed! you need to get some rest, you probably haven't gotten much sleep the last few nights with all that's been going on. please, take the bed”

chat had a point. you barely slept the last few nights. but still, the same goes for him! chat had been fighting off all those akumatized villains that were after you, so he hadn't gotten any sleep either.

“then… nobody gets the bed!”

you decide, to the surprise of chat.

“wait, where's this coming from? i thought–”

“or…” you interrupted chat, a faint blush on your cheeks. “we share it…”

chat's face turned red in record time, up to his ears. the wheels in his head began to turn and as soon as he realized he was still sitting on the aforementioned bed, he jumped up and shook his head.

“y-you shouldn't joke about something like this… please!” his voice cracked on the last word, causing him to quickly clear his throat. “as the gentleman, i'll sleep on the floor and you'll have the bed!”

a faint blush hushed over your cheeks as well. chat seemed to think you were just messing with him, which meant you could either double down on your proposal or play it off as a joke. and you chose the former.

“and what if… i don't mind to share with you?” slowly, you raised your head and locked eyes with chat, who's eyes were now glued to yours. “what if i told you i'd feel safer with you by my side…?”

chat noir stared at you, quietly. for a few moments, the room was completely empty, as nobody said a thing. you were almost thinking chat was trying to ignore what you just said, but then he spoke up again.

“i suppose… this is part of my duty as a hero then!”

he knew that sharing a bed with you wasn't a good idea. but he didn't have any plans to make a move on you, honestly! and he was sure you wouldn't either, so there wouldn't be a problem. at least, that's what chat wanted to believe.

“you… you mean it?”

your eyebrows rose and you studied his facial expression. but he didn't seem to be joking. slowly, a small smile crept onto your lips.

“i'll be getting ready for bed then…!”

you grabbed your pajamas that were laying on top of your pillow on the bed and left the room, but not before stopping by the door.

“you can put on one of my bigger shirts for tonight! if you'd like to, of course!”

chat nodded quietly and glanced towards your wardrobe. by the time he turned back to the door, you had already vanished and closed the door behind him, giving him some privacy.

when you returned roughly five minutes later, chat noir was wearing one of the biggest shirts he could find in your closet, while still wearing his suit. you hadn't expected him to detransform, but it was still an odd sight, that led you to wonder if he even needed that shirt.

“are you tired?” you asked, as you sat down on the bed, which chat quickly did as well, while nodding. “yeah, me too”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, before you made the first move and slipped under the blanket, before holding it up for chat, silently inviting him to join you. the hero hesitated, before eventually moving closer, until he was underneath the blanket with you.

“good night, y/n…”

chat noir whispered, his back facing yours, as the two of you refused to look at each other, while being this close.

“good night, kitty…”

you soon closed your eyes, trying to forget that the hero of paris was laying next to you and that your legs occasionally touched, whenever you even slightly shifted in bed. but eventually, the exhaustion got to you and you fell asleep.

and while you had tried your hardest to keep your distance from chat noir, by the time you'd wake up, you'd realize that while you were asleep, the two of you had cuddled up against one another, while sleeping soundly…

[kurvinitty]

wriothesley 👁️ 👁️ as your soulmate

( * ₊ 🦋◞ ˚ ) ⠀ ⪼ ⠀soulmate au drabbles. ( open )

tags. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ 1.5k wc, reader works as an engineer, swearing lol, not proofread bc i'm eepy and going to bed now

notes. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ listen to colors by halsey while reading this bc i think it fits rlly well !! anyway this may be ooc but do i care? no. i only care about he.

You can only see colour when your soulmate is with you and you’re touching. This gives a whole new meaning to them bringing colour to your world.

Who knew that out of all places, a prison would be where your world of grey would suddenly burst into bouts of colour?

As an engineer, you were stuck fixing & maintaining things more often than actually creating them. Your colleagues sometimes pitied you, as your already monotonous world made your job even harder. Those lucky enough to have found their soulmate are not only favoured by cupid’s bow, but also by whoever delegated your working tasks.

You wouldn’t lie — it pissed you off. Yet at the same time, you were aware that it was much safer dispatching someone who could identify a cable’s colour before installing them. However, that still did little to soothe your frustrations.

It’s also what had lead to you being stuck with more tedious tasks — maintenance and routine inspections. Despite all this, you still loved your job — and you’d be damned if your peers’ mocking pity would bring you down.

Ironically, it was due to them that you’d get what you were looking for all this time.

To beckon the call of help from the Fortress of Meropide was definitely not your field of expertise, yet you were still the one who answered. Due to the aforementioned reasons, it was also your first time setting foot on the premise. The prison’s damp walls added a chill to the already eerie atmosphere, and you now regret not taking your coat with you. The gardes were kind enough to escort you to the administrator’s office, saving you the pain of navigating this labyrinth on your own.

You flinch at the sound as the garde opens the door, holding it open for you to enter. Only now do you realise how tense you’ve been so far — the temperature undoubtedly having played its hand in it. Archons, you couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

With a thankful nod towards your escort, you step inside the room, Wriothesley already expecting you. Before you could fully enter, the man was already on his feet to receive you. Well prepared — as expected of him.

You have heard many things about the Duke, rumours both good & bad — but you’ve never had the chance to confirm them yourself. But now that you stand before him, you think you understand why everyone respected him greatly — no matter their personal opinion of him. At a glance, you could tell that an air of authority accompanied his every step, and you feel yourself subconsciously shrinking before the man.

Should he notice, he doesn’t say a word though. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he seems quite relieved when you finally arrive.

“You’re the engineer we requested, I assume?”

He speaks matter-of-factly, yet he also sounds… quite friendly? You didn’t know what to expect of the man, but you were sure it was closer to ice cold apathy, rather than the soft-spoken silk you experience now.

The first words this man had ever spoken to you, and you were already at a loss for words. Both because you didn’t know how to explain the situation, and also due to Wriothesley himself. While the first impression he made was better than expected, you were sure you’d somehow manage to piss him off in the next second. But then again, was it really your fault?

You clear your throat, fumbling over the words, before you settle on something to say. “Well, uh- yes I am.”

It’s evident how the Duke senses your hesitation and raises and eyebrow in question. Where he once looked at you in relief, his expression now falters and his eyes scrutinize you with suspicion.

Oh, you’re fucked.

Heat floods your body in embarrassment, your mind now drawing an even bigger blank as you desperately try to backtrack. “With that I mean— I am an engineer, but I doubt the work here will be within my expertise,” you sheepishly explain as the words escape your mouth in a single breath. What an absolute wonderful way to start off this interaction. “I am terribly sorry.”

You have half the mind to bow in apology, for an inconvenience that wasn’t even your fault. Doing your colleague’s dirty work was one thing, but your company being under staffed was a whole other issue.

But Wriothesley only shakes his head. Though you could swear you saw his face drop in annoyance for a split second, you felt like there was no need to worry when he next spoke. “It’s alright. I’m just glad there’ll be someone to look at it. This stuff has been giving me trouble all week already.” his hand moves up as he sweeps it over his forehead in exasperation, fingers combing through his thick dark hair. And for the Archon’s sake, you wanted to do nothing more to curse out loud when he did that. Even more so when you catch yourself examining his features more closely now, with your eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than they should. You wonder what colour his hair may be — dark, for sure — but there was only so much you could determine with a world full of grey.

You’re here to work, not to admire pretty men.

Pretty.

It took you more self-restraint than you’d like to admit to not slap yourself.

“Anyway, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet,” the man continues, thus effectively pulling you out of your self-loathing session. His hand reaches out toward you, an invitation for you to reciprocate in kind. “Wriothesley.”

Surely, you wouldn’t be able to mess up a simple handshake, right?

You waste no time to clasp your hand in his & tell him your name, your dainty digits being engulfed by the rough and calloused skin of his own. And in that moment, you felt as if time had completely stopped.

It wasn’t due to the feeling of his skin coming in contact with yours. As much as one could sing songs about how the touch of your soulmate could invigorate & keep you warm for a thousand winters to come — it wasn’t the case for you. The catalyst for sure, but the event that followed was worth your song.

The moment your hand touched Wriothesley’s, you didn’t even feel it. The only thing you felt was the feeling when your world suddenly filled with colour. All it took was the blink of an eye, and you were in a whole different world. You stare at the man before you, your mouth hanging wide open while you were freeze in shock. There was so much new information to process, but your eyes & mind could only focus on him. You can’t exactly pinpoint all the new colours you see, but the first thing you notice is his eyes.

You weren’t the only one at a loss for words, and even if you tried — you could not pry your gaze away from holding his. His eyes don’t look much different than they did before, actually. They’re naturally blessed with a light colour, but now you notice all the different shades and hues within them. Does he know what colour his own eyes are? Do you know yours? For all you know, anyone you asked could have been lying to you so far.

You also notice how his pale face now gains the slightest bit of colour, and you wonder if he sees the same with you.

Honestly? If time would allow it, you’d stay like this forever. But of course, it’s the man you’re supposed to spend eternity with that would deny your wish.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

And he acts as if nothing happened.

You, on the other hand, are still in the process of digesting this experience. Before you knew it, his grip on your hand loosened, until it completely fades away and your vision is plunged back into an array of black & white.

“Wait, I—” The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, your body almost acting on it’s own accord to wrap your hand around his wrist again. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of this — of him — you desperately want your world to burn up once again, like a new hunger that begs to be satiated. Did he not feel the same? Did you just imagine it?

It seems like Wriothesley took notice of your crestfallen expression. He doesn’t back away, yet he doesn’t come closer either. Instead, he speaks — in a tone so beautiful & soft, you can scarcely believe it’s real.

“I think we’ve got more than enough time to talk later.”

© KURVINITTY '23 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. || DO NOT plagiarize my work or steal any graphics, as they are either purchased, commissioned or edited by me unless specified. | support divider

[runnning-outof-time]

Hii! Can i pls request a arthur Shelby x wife!reader where the reader isn't involve in any of the business of Arthur and his family and during the vendetta the italians kidnap her to kill her as revenge but Arthur and his brothers come in time and Arthur comfort scared reader?

Hi anon! I hope you don’t mind the formatting of this - I’m trying something out in hopes that it’ll help me get these requests shared. It’s not quite a structured story, but it’s also not quite headcanons - it just kinda showcases the major plot points of the story along with some added supporting details … whatever it is, I wrote it! I hope you enjoy!

When The Day’s Done | Arthur Shelby x Reader

**gif credit: @/sparksetfire, who sadly deactivated**

Summary: Arthur meets a woman when he moves out into the country. She stays behind when he must return to Birmingham to fight the vendetta because they feel that it's safer for her to stay here. Their decision turns out to be the wrong one, and now Arthur must save her.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers, kidnapping

Word Count: 2777 (way longer than I expected)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Arthur met (Y/N) when he moved out to the country.

**Linda's not present in this story, but he'd still move out there after the events between seasons 3 and 4 finished. **

Ada - with the help of Polly - would have a big hand in prompting this move. They both know that Arthur could be better, and that what he surely needed was to be away from the smoke of Small Heath. And they were correct.

It didn't take long for them to meet.

(Y/N)'s house was the next one over - down the street that is - and she met Arthur when she opened her front door to find him one day.

Arthur had met her father prior. He already had an established farm, and that's something Arthur's hoping he could create for himself now that he's got this land. So (Y/N)'s father had told him to come over and that he'd show him around in hopes that some inspiration would strike Arthur.

(Y/N) still lives at home with her parents. She's got a job within their community - running the farmer's market that all of the local farmers bring their goods to (her father included) ... it's just easier for her to stay at home, and her parents are quite happy that she chooses to as she's an only child. They like to keep the family close.

So back to Arthur meeting her at the door. Knowing how Arthur is, I'm sure you could picture how he reacted when he came face fo face with this beautiful woman instead of the older man he'd met earlier in the week. Yeah, he suddenly doesn't know how to form a complete sentence.

(Y/N) finds it adorable. And she goes to get her father when Arthur finally manages to get out what it is that he's there for.

She makes sure to ask her father about him once he leaves, too. Like she pretty much plays twenty questions with him. Her father obliges and answers what she asks...and he's got that look in his eye too - like he has an inkling of an idea as to why she's asking all the questions. (Y/N)'s too oblivious to catch it.

The next place Arthur finds (Y/N) is at the farmer's market. He's getting some things that he needs and she, of course, checks him out (in more ways then one, if we're being honest).

He's actually able to strike up conversation with her this time around - asking her about the market and how long she'd been working there. And she happily shares answers with him. He ends the conversation with "well if it all goes right, you'll be selling my things here too."

To which (Y/N) responds with "if you're following my father's advice, you'll be growing things in no time."

She leaves him with a sweet smile and then kicks herself once he exits the market. Since when have I ever been so giddy over a man?, she thinks to herself.

Little does (Y/N) know that Ida, one of the older women in the community, watched the entire interaction with a knowing look...she can read these two like an open book.

And it just so happens that Ida's one of the women in the village that loves to gossip.

The first person in Arthur and (Y/N)'s circle that this gossip gets to is (Y/N)'s father...yeah, probably the worst person it could have reached. He overhears it when he's at one of his fellow farmer's home. The fellow farmer's wife decided to bring it up as a topic of conversation, surprising (Y/N)'s father.

He doesn't even wait to speak to Arthur about it. It's during one of the evenings where the two men are meeting, because Arthur's still getting a handle on the whole farming thing, that the older man decides to bring it up. He comes right out with it, too - "whatever your intentions with my daughter are, you'd better be an honest man about it."

Arthur's surprised, to say the least. But he doesn't deny the interest he has in (Y/N). He puts on a serious face and nods, saying "I will, sir." (Y/N)'s father nods in response.

So the next time Arthur sees (Y/N), which happens to be when she answers the door to find him on her family's front stoop - again, Arthur asks her to dinner.

And that's the start of a lovely relationship.

He's careful with who he tells. He wants to leave his life in Small Heath out of it for the most part. Sure, in some ways that's doing a disservice to (Y/N), but this new start has been good for Arthur.

He tells John and Ada, who are both incredibly happy for him. Finn just kind of finds out one day when he's visiting his eldest brother, and he's got nothing bad to say about it. He'd tell Tommy too...if Tommy wasn't so hard to reach. Polly is also hard to reach during this time, but he does mention it to her.

They're truly inseparable from the start. (Y/N) feels bashful at the fact that she practically lives at Arthur's home now, but Arthur repeatedly tells her that he's so incredibly happy that she's staying with him.

It's during these months that he's the happiest he's ever been. His little farm is flourishing (thanks to the help from the farmer's daughter and her knowledge), and he's sure that he's now with the love of his life.

The move that he was initially feeling uncertain about has turned out to be one of the best decisions he's ever made.

About three or four of these blissful months pass before Arthur's meeting with (Y/N)'s father again. This time, however, he's got a question that doesn't involve farming.

He wants to ask him for his daughter's hand in marriage.

He does everything in proper fashion too - sits down with him, professes how (Y/N) makes him feel and even shows the ring that he'd picked out a few weeks back.

(Y/N)'s father essentially has to agree to Arthur's questions twice because the latter doesn't hear him the first time. He's too busy going through the speech he'd prepared to take into account that her father could answer before he finished it.

And when he does hear his answer, he's immediately relieved.

He wastes no time in asking her. In fact, he does it that evening while they're enjoying some time out on the grounds of his property. Of course she says yes!

News of the engagement spreads like wildfire throughout the village. Some think it's way too early for that step, but others - particularly those who have known (Y/N) and her family for some time - think it's perfect.

(Y/N)'s so excited to plan their wedding, and Arthur's eager to allow her to have anything she wants as part of their big day.

She pours every ounce of herself into the planning and preparations over the next few months.

All of the excitement, however, comes to a screeching halt near Christmas of 1925, when a Black Hand comes in the mail.

To be clear, by this point Arthur's told (Y/N) about what sort of business he was involved in prior to moving out of Small Heath. He felt that if he was going to truly be with her, she deserved to know every part of him.

Sure (Y/N)'s not exactly enthused to learn of the types of things he'd done in the past, but anyone was easily able to see that he was making a good faith effort to separate and distance himself from every part of that lifestyle - besides keeping in touch with his family, of course.

When it's decided that the Shelby's would move back to Small Heath to face the vendetta head on, Arthur insists that (Y/N) stays back in the village. He hopes that the Italians don't know much more about his life there than the address of his home.

There's some hesitance from (Y/N), but she ultimately agrees and moves back with her parents as Arthur heads to Small Heath.

The distance is tough for the two of them. They've essentially gone from being each other's everything every day for the past year to not having any contact whatsoever.

And so while hell's happening in Small Heath, (Y/N)'s living a normal life back home. Things go on like this for some time too...until one day things change.

The - for lack of better terms - hit gets put out after Arthur kills the two men in the basement of the factory.

Two strange men were hanging around the farmer's market for the entirety of (Y/N)'s shift. She feels something uneasy about them, but tries to shake it off and focus on helping customers and whatnot.

They bring her to a stop on her walk home and force her to get into their car, driving off without a word.

(Y/N) decides to stay quiet and remains relatively calm. She doesn't know what these men want, and hopes that if she's compliant with them, they'll let her go.

Unfortunately things don't pan out that way.

The drive feels like it goes on forever, and it's dark by the time they make it to their destination. Because of this - and the fact that the men were forcibly dragging her to the doors - (Y/N)'s unable to catch any defining markers of where she now is.

She's dragged into a dark room, where the only piece of furniture is a wooden chair. Nothing is said as she's shoved into the chair and the men begin tying her to it. "What do you want from me?" she finally asks.

One of the men smirks, glancing at his counterpart before responding, "I'd get comfortable, sweetheart, you might be here awhile."

With that the two leave her tied to the chair, nodding to the man that she now notices is sitting by the door of the room.

A decent chunk of time passes - (Y/N)'s not sure how much because there's nothing that could tell her - before the door opens again.

A different man walks in this time. He's wearing a nicely tailored suit, a fedora, and as he comes to a stop in front of her, (Y/N) can see that he's chewing on the end of a matchstick. A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he gets a good look at her.

"Who are you?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You don't know me, sweetheart, but I know all about you," the man answers, "and your family."

This confuses her even more. "What do you mean?"

The man responds quickly, "Your husband killed my father. I want to know where he is."

"I don't...I don't know where he is," she says while trying to hide the fact that her heart is beating out of her chest.

The man just laughs at her statement. "See I don't believe that."

"It's true," she quickly responds, the desperation in her voice not helping her.

The man shakes his head, a wicked smirk forming as he looks her over. "Let me put this as simply as possible: you have twenty-four hours to give Arthur Shelby to me, or it'll be you who dies next. Understood?" (Y/N) doesn't answer. He gets really close to her as a look of annoyance spreads across his face. "I said: do you understand me?" The cologne he wears is almost too much for her to bear. Her face wrinkles together for a moment, hoping if she holds her breath, he'll just leave. But he doesn't.

So she opens her eyes and locks them onto his. "I do," she finally answers, her voice steady despite the fear that's coursing through her.

"Good," the man smirks, finally stepping away from her. "You'll tell him when you're ready," he states, motioning to the man who'd been watching her since she was placed in the room. "I'd do it sooner than later, sweetheart," he suggests, laughing to himself as he exits the room.

(Y/N)'s left with a startling decision now. She truly doesn't know what to do, or if there's even a way out of this.

Back home, people are talking. (Y/N)'s absence isn't hard to miss. At first it's thought that maybe she's gone out for the day, but worries skyrocket when she hasn't returned by the evening.

Her parents waste no time in contacting Arthur, even though it might not be the best move.

(Y/N) told them of the way she was instructed to get any urgent information to Small Heath - by calling the factory they owned and placing a message.

When Arthur receives this message the next time he's at the factory, he immediately knows something's wrong with her. There wouldn't be any other reason why (Y/N)'s parents would be the ones sending out the call.

They manage to send one of Aberama's men out to gain more details, and what information is brought back to Small Heath instantly makes Arthur's blood run cold. His fiancée was in danger. Everything else could wait...what needed to happen next was they needed to find where she was being held.

— ••• —

(Y/N) doesn't give any information to the man appointed to watch over her. She wasn't going to give her fiancé up. She holds onto hope that something'll happen before her time is up.

The man sitting by the door keeps a steady watch on her. (Y/N)'s surprised that he hasn't nodded off to sleep yet, as he hadn't been switched out for anyone else.

It all happens so suddenly. One moment, the man was turning his head to investigate a scraping noise that he heard just outside the doorway. The next, there's a man with what (Y/N) makes out to be shoulder-length hair peeking out from under a fedora pressing a gun to the seated man's temple.

The breath gets stuck in (Y/N)'s throat, but she doesn't panic.

"You speak and it'll be the last thing you ever do," the gun wielding man threatens the seated man. As expected, silence follows. "She's in here," the man then proclaims, making more footsteps sound in the corridor.

The voice that comes next has sobs of relief leaving (Y/N)'s mouth. "(Y/N)," Arthur calls as he rushes to where she's tied up. "(Y/N), love, I'm here."

"I...I didn't know what to...I didn't tell them anything," she stumbles over her words as Arthur works quickly on untying her from the chair. The second her hands are released, she falls into his arms.

"I've got you now. You're ok, you're safe," he whispers into her hair as she clings to him.

"What do I do with him, boss?" the man, who's still pressing a gun into one of her captors' temple, asks.

"Dispose of 'em," a second man responds. A slight struggle ensues, but (Y/N) doesn't move to see what happens. She stays put in Arthur's arms.

Time passes and the couple stays put. Arthur's thanking every god he knows of for keeping (Y/N) safe. (Y/N)'s still trying to get a hold of her emotions. Keeping them bottled up for this long while she was tied up is catching up with her.

"I didn't know if you'd come or not," she finally says some time later.

"I'll always come," he assures her, his voice gravelly as his emotions catch up with him. "When the day's done, I've got you, darlin'."

His comforting words made her finally lift her head from his chest. Her teary eyes found his and she couldn't help but smile. It felt like they'd been apart for years. Something quickly became apparent to her as she took in his appearance.

"Arthur..." she paused, letting out a mixture of a laugh and a sniffle, "your hair." What was all one length and longer was now shaved short on the sides but kept long on the top. She just had to reach out to feel it, wanting to confirm that it was actually real.

Arthur's brows furrow in confusion for a moment before he realizes what she's talking about. He can't help but chuckle as he feels her fingers run through his hair. "I cut it. Hope you don't mind, love."

"I don't," (Y/N) answers, shaking her head. "I love it."

Thank you for making it through…whatever this was. I appreicate you sticking with it. I’m not sure how many more fics I’ll write in this format but I will say that it really helped me get an idea I was originally struggling with out.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Just some Dom Frank smut that I've had in my wips for ages 😊

Frank Castle x female reader (with some Billy Russo x reader at the very beginning)

You've got a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Billy and realise you have a little kink which he's not really into, but he has a solution...

Warnings: choking kink, praise, pet names, p in v sex, teasing, begging. Please reblog if you enjoyed so that others may do the same! Please! Thank you 😊

Billy is fucking you hard, driving himself deeper and deeper with every punishing, sinful thrust of his hips, making you lose yourself almost completely. He brings his hand up to caress the side of your face and you arch into his touch as he skims it down the side of your neck to your chest where he pinches and teases your nipples. He grins wickedly, diving down mouthing and grazing his teeth over the plush skin of your tits as you moan. You grasp for his wrist, dragging his hand back up to your neck, whimpering as you can feel your peak drawing ever closer when his fingertips brush over your throat.

But Billy gently draws his hand away. "Scotch." He says. His safeword.

Your eyes widen as the word hits your ears and you try to calm your breathing as you both slow down and come to a stop.

"Oh Billy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, kitten." He replies, carefully pulling out and laying down beside you. "I guess we never covered that particular area." He smiles but you still feel awful for trying to get him to do something to you that he isn't entirely comfortable with.

"I- I didn't really know I liked it, until just then… but I'm still sorry, I should have asked you first regardless."

“It's alright, don't worry about it. But hey, I'm glad you've discovered a new kink!" You share a smile as he cuddles you into his arms and kisses you sweetly.

You and Billy had been friends with benefits for a few months now. You were both currently single and relished the opportunity to cut almost completely loose with each other. You found each other attractive, had a lot of fun, and most importantly it was a much-needed tension release after a stressful work day where you just wanted someone else to take control and make you feel good.

Later on that evening he came to you with an unexpected proposal.

"I feel so shitty about leaving you hanging like that before, so I was wondering if you might be cool with me setting you up with a good friend of mine. I think he'd be able to give you what you need, maybe a little bit more than I can?”

You look up from your phone, rapt and curious at the suggestion. "Billy, are you for real? You'd really do that for me?"

He looks surprised that you'd think he wouldn't. "’course I will baby, I just want to see you happy! If you like I'll tell him all your preferences. He'll only go as hard as you want, and you can play here at my place if it makes you feel safer. I'd be there in the next room if you needed me, but Frank's a good guy, he'll take good care of you I promise."

You sit up straighter at the mention of Frank's name. "Wait, it's Frank? You mean your marine buddy Frank?! I didn't know he was into–"

Billy chuckles. "Yeah, not many do. But you like him,” Billy smirks as he teases you, “don't you?"

You give him a sly smile back, he's not wrong. "Well, from what I've seen…" you murmur, thinking about the few times you'd briefly met, once when you went to meet Billy at the gym and Frank came striding out of the showers, shirtless. And then there was the size of his hands…

Billy laughs even louder seeing a dreamy expression cross over your features. "Alright now kitten, don't get all fired up just yet. I'll go see him tomorrow and we'll talk it over okay? See what he says."

You leap into Billy's arms. "You are much too good to me Russo! You know that?"

He nods and kisses the top of your head, still amused. "Yeah, I know."

Frank was apparently very eager to help you out and so Billy arranged a little introductory session for you both at his on the Friday night. Billy had clued you in on what Frank was into as you'd wanted to know, even though this was primarily for your benefit.

"-and you call him 'Sir', yeah?"

You nod. You were melting already.

"Hey girl, think you got a lil bit of drool hanging out the corner of your mouth there…" Billy laughs and you give him a playful punch.

"Shut up! I'm just… a little excited."

"Oh, you should be, baby." You can't help notice Billy's slightly wistful look as he says it. "You're in good hands."

When Friday evening arrives Billy lets you get settled in and informs you that Frank's waiting in his bedroom whenever you're ready. You're slightly nervous but when you open the door and see his large form sitting on the side of the bed suddenly all you feel is a buzz.

"Hey princess, how're you doin'?" He asks in a low drawl along with a smile that makes you want to bark. He looks so damn fine you want to squeal.

Instead you greet him politely, reining in your giddiness and desire. "I'm good thank you, Sir."

Frank grins, a slight chuckle bursting past his lips in a way you found cute. "Did Bill tell you to say that sweetheart? Y'know he's just messin' with you? You can call me Frank if you want."

You return his smile, nodding. "Yes, Sir."

Frank makes a satisfied sound and laughs again, softer this time, his deep brown penetrating gaze making you feel weak at the knees. "Mm, alright. C'mon over here, let me see ya."

Just this simple request has your body feeling like it's ablaze. He stands up as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes running over you like warm honey, taking in the way your soft cotton summer dress hugs your curves, the hem ending just above your mid thigh.

“You're a very beautiful woman.” He says with a note of sincerity and awe, bringing his hand up to gently trace the side of your jaw. You feel the heat flush up into your face.

"What's your safeword honey?"

"Cloud." You reply hazily. You're practically purring already as his fingers graze over your rapidly heating skin.

Frank nods. "That's good, mine's 'bullet'. “How're you feelin' sweetheart?'' he asks, "Think you wanna play some?"

You start to lean into his touch as his thumb strokes across the small smile on your soft lips. "Yeah." You respond, and Frank grunts his approval as you start to lick and suck on his thumb as he gently slides it between your lips.

"Such a good girl. Damn. Bill told me you were needin' a little somethin' extra. S'that right?" he gently probes, and you feel your entire body start to tingle with the anticipation of what he's going to do with you next.

You take the digit deeper into your mouth as he guides you down to kneel in front of him, swirling your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks to suck just a little while you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we're gonna get on real well. How ‘bout we see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do, huh?"

He slowly palms over the noticeable bulge at the crotch of his jeans and you can feel the saliva filling your mouth, dripping out of the corner as he presses his thumb down against your tongue. Yes sir, please sir you think as you nod slowly as he removes it and unbuckles his belt. The clinking sound of it being undone has you soaking into your silky underwear already. This is what you need. Just him to keep telling you what to do, to take complete control of your body and mind and make you feel like nothing else matters.

As he pulls his cock out in front of your face you can't stop your eyes widening and the eager moan that escapes you. He's big, long and thick, and as he strokes himself to full hardness you shift about on your knees, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you catch sight of a drop of precum leaking from his tip.

"Look at you, so damn perfect an' all ready f'me.”

You push up onto your knees, keeping your hands to yourself until he tells you otherwise, your mouth open and tongue out flat and wide as you wait for him to give you what you're craving. Instruction.

“Yeah, that's right. You know what to do princess."

His cock is mere inches from your mouth, just out of reach. He finally moves forward to rub the head of it over your waiting tongue, moaning as the addictive musky taste of him spreads across it. You slide your mouth on, stretching your lips over the fat head of his dick, closing your eyes as you slowly begin to suck on it.

"Ah-ah sweetheart, look at me. Eyes on me." He corrects, watching you take a little more of him in, beginning to move back and forth and shallowly fuck your mouth as you obey and look back up at him. He groans letting his head fall back as you lap your tongue along the bulging vein on the underside.

"Oh yeah, that's real good baby. Gonna give you some more just like you want, huh?"

You moan your agreement around his impressive girth as you pull back and ready yourself to swallow him deeper. He's gentle at first, he pushing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your head lightly as you take him in as far as you can, gagging slightly until you can figure out how to breathe. Your eyes start to water as you gaze up at him. He's telling you that you look so damn pretty, and you feel the wetness between your thighs increase ten fold as his big hand and thick fingers wrap around your throat to guide you.

"Oh- fuck- attagirl, there we go, fuck that's it."

You think he's gonna finish off in your mouth the way he's groaning and grunting fucking your mouth, obviously enjoying the way you're taking him and letting him use you. But you're silently begging him with your eyes not to, because you're throbbing, aching for him to get inside of you, to be able to feel that massive dick fucking you until you can't think thoughts.

Thankfully he slows his movements, pulling out his dick and wiping your messy spit covered chin with his thumb. He lifts you up to your feet and gently pushes you back on the bed where you land with a soft bounce. As you struggle to regain your breath he's chuckling at your gawking stare as he strips out of his clothes revealing his muscular chest, defined rows of abs and thick thighs that you dream of being suffocated between.

"Hope you weren't thinkin’ I was neglectin' that pretty little pussy of yours..."

Of course he knows what you're thinking but you still shake your head. "No sir." you mewl, your body aflame from the way his eyes rove over you. Frank prowls up your body, his hand slipping up under the hem of your dress and gently cupping your mound, middle fingers stroking so teasingly up over your folds through your damp underwear. You yelp as he takes his hand away only to slap your cunt hard, the pleasurable pain jolting through your whole body like an electric shock.

"Don't lie to me."

"N-no sir!" You whimper as he rubs you again through the flimsy fabric, grinning as he feels the fresh flood of your arousal soak his fingers.

"Well shit. Look at that baby. You like sucking cock that much?"

"I like sucking your cock, sir." You pant, trying to grind yourself against his hand for some immediate relief. He lifts it away, slapping your pussy lightly again making you cry out in frustration.

"Gimme a colour sweetheart."

Billy had said that you would be in good hands. You were gonna have to get him a present or something for this.

'G-green!"

"That's a good girl." He smirks, curling his fingers over the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your ass away from your soaking core, and inching them ever so slowly down your trembling thighs.

"Heard you don't like bein' teased, princess…"

Your mind reels wondering where he's going with this, your breath shallow and fast as he bares you to him, tossing your ruined underwear across the bedroom. He kneels on the bed at your feet,

"On your hands and knees f'me."

He commands and you obey. It's that simple. He takes his time appraising you, his fingers drifting over your ass cheeks and carefully rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist.

"Cute." He remarks, noting how your breathing changes as he moves up behind you, his hand resting on your hip. You gasp you feel the firm head of his cock run between the folds of your puffy, sopping cunt. He rubs it up and down the length of your slit, over and over so slowly, and every time you think he's going to sink right in and fill you full he doesn't. You want nothing else so badly but to push back into him, to have him thrust inside and probably split you in half but he hasn't said that you're allowed to.

You want to scream.

"Doin' real good for me, such a good girl."

You shiver at the praise, but you need more, he has to understand how much you need him.

"Yeah, you want me to give you some more don't you? I know, I know sweetheart." He says soothingly while pushing his cock forward between your legs and bumping the head up against your clit. When he draws away yet again you can't stand the tease anymore and you break.

"Fuck, please!" you whine.

Frank smacks his hand down on your ass cheek and you cry out, heat blooming out over your skin as he runs his palm over the stinging spot.

"Please what?" He asks you so casually, as if he's completely ignorant to the fact you're almost dripping wet down the inside of your thighs.

"Please, sir… I-I need it, n-need your cock so bad, please!" You try, staring straight ahead as you dip your back, making your hips tilt up hoping he'll see just how ready you are for more. You breathe out a shaky whimper of relief as you feel the warmth and pressure of his giant hand grip around the back of your neck holding you still as he takes his cock in hand and slides it close to where you're aching for him to shove it. But he doesn't, and he so clearly knows what it's doing to you.

You want this teasing, this cruel punishment and yet can't stop your pathetic sobs of desperation, can't stop the tears from rolling down your flushed cheeks as you plead with him repeatedly.

"Shh-shh c'mon pretty girl, you know I got you." He says shushing you gently. "Deep breaths f'me hm? You good?"

You manage to drag in a shuddering lungful of air so you can tell him you want this, you want him to keep going, keep making you feel.

His fingers grip the back of your neck tighter when he hears your confirmation to continue and finally– he gives you what you need, forcing the thick head of his cock into your needy pussy. You moan and mewl as he stretches you open, despite how wet and ready you thought you were it's still a tight fit and he pauses for a few seconds, feeling you contract around his tip.

"S'that what you need huh? Feel good?"

You groan as he holds himself still, only the first couple of inches of him inside you. Then he moves, so slow that the tears return, running down the drying tracks on your skin as he thrusts gently back and forth, only fucking you with the very tip of his cock. Pushing in and popping out, so painfully slowly, in and out, again and again.

"Mm, that's all you deserve for now baby. That's all you're gettin' till you play nice."

The next time he pulls out he smacks his hard length down against your ass, thrusting himself between the cleft of your cheeks for a while leaving you completely empty. You do nothing, say nothing, just moan and let him use your body until he wants to reward you. And reward you he does…

You inhale sharply as you feel the sudden loss of contact, but then he buries his face in your cunt and starts licking and fucking you with his tongue. He grips firmly around your thighs, pulling you back, flush with his hot mouth as he works you up until your legs are shaking. You gasp as the coil deep inside tightens as he keeps it up, reacting to the increasing pitch and volume of your moans. You're gonna come any second and you know he's not told you that you can, that you're allowed to. You don't know what to do, the feeling is welling up from deep inside, it's getting closer and he won't let up, craning his neck to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue and delve his tongue into the steady stream of slick arousal leaking out of you.

Fuck, god… please, just a little more, so close, it feels so fucking good- almost… there–

Frank stops, pulls away.

You're shaking, crying, your cunt is throbbing.

He stopped.

Suddenly you don't know which way is up, whimpering as he spears you with his cock, sliding all the way into you until you can feel his hip bones hard up against your ass. You twitch and pulse around him at the sensation.

Fuck it's so good it's so good, you babble as he drags you up off your hands, his arms binding you to his warm chest as he starts to rut you hard and fast, his beautiful fat cock dragging so deep against your soft inner walls. Frank claps a hand over your breast, squeezing and fondling then tugging and pinching hard at your nipple while his other massive paw slides upwards to your neck, and you whimper and whine as it easily circles your entire throat. You lean into it, showing him that this is what you wanted, what you were being a good girl for. He holds you firmly while his hips thrash, fucking you so hard you can't speak, can't think about anything else but how perfect it feels, how you want nothing else but for him to fill you up, use you how he pleases.

He tightens his grip and growls as your pussy squeezes around him in response.

"Yeah," he rasps into the side of your neck, his skin smacking against your ass every time he thrusts up into you. You can feel his heavy balls almost brushing your clit. "Good girl… c'mon and let me hear you."

Every time he buries himself inside a pitiful little whimper falls from your open mouth. You wonder if Billy is listening next door, maybe getting off on the sound of the two of you fucking.

Frank's tightening, vice-like grip snaps you back to the moment and you're aching for him and starting to get a little lightheaded which makes everything feel so much more intense.

“Fraaank…” you pant.

"You close sweetheart? Goddamn, I know it, can feel you flutterin' honey, feels so good."

He's relentless in the way that he fucks you, but it's not without tenderness and sensuality. His lips kiss the sweaty skin of your shoulder as he holds you upright, your back flush against his broad chest, his hand still around your neck and one splayed over your stomach as he starts to ram his cock repeatedly right into that perfect spot.

“C'mon sweetheart, I got you,” he grunts, "go on, go off for me baby...”

When his hand slides down lower and you feel the electric sensation of the rough pads of his fingertips start rubbing over your slick clit, there's no going back. You're a hot, whimpering mess ready to fall over the edge.

He half-whispers, voice low and gruff by your ear. “Fuck that's it, fuck, yeah…”

He slams up into you as your body finally quakes around him and you let go completely with an uninhibited moan of pleasure, feeling the rolling fire of your orgasm exploding out in powerful waves through every nerve. You're barely aware of anything after that, only half registering the deep groan of satisfaction from Frank as he finishes inside you with several slow, deep rolls of his hips.

Everything feels warm and gooey, sounds are muted and distant for a while until you hear him again as you slowly come to, blinking your heavy eyelids open to his concerned voice.

“Hey, hey… you okay sweetheart?”

You gradually become aware that you're being held, warm and grounded. Frank's propped up on the mound of pillows at the headboard and you're laying against his broad chest as he trails his fingertips gently up and down the outside of your arm.

“Not too much?” He asks, angling his head to make eye contact with you.

You reach up your hand around the back of his head, leaning up as you pull him down to kiss him for the first time. It's a sweet kiss, relaxed and easy considering all that you've just done together. He's got the cutest smile you've ever seen on his face after you break away, this big unit of a man is maybe even blushing slightly.

“No this was perfect, thank you so much Frank, I couldn't really ask for more.” He hands you a glass of water and you kinda do wish you could indulge yourself a little more and lie in his arms for longer, but you're aware that Billy's just outside and you both should probably get cleaned up anyway. As you carefully push yourself up you can't help notice Frank seems almost reluctant to break up your little post coital moment.

“Y'know, anytime you need a little somethin’, you just let me know, hm?” Frank offers, and you know you'll definitely be taking him up on that. You slip out of bed and he's right there making sure you don't fall over your own wobbly legs on the way to the ensuite to shower.

“You comin' with me, big guy?” you ask him with a raised brow and a soft smile, glad when he returns it and shadows you, turning on the hot spray of the shower and helping you wash.

When you emerge Frank heads into the kitchen to pour you all a drink and you go to find Billy. He's in his office with his headphones on and gives you a smirk when he sees your blissed out expression, taking the headset off and putting it on the desk.

“Looks like you might've had some fun. Frankie, did you treat her right?!” he shouts through to the kitchen, and you can't help the huge grin that splits your face.

“Yeah he most definitely did.” You reply, your fingers playing with a pen on the edge of his desk. “I was thinking that maybe, we could all have some fun together next time..?”

“Oh we're already planning a next time are we?” Billy teases, and you smack him on the arm, shushing him as Frank appears in the doorway to hand you both a glass of bourbon each.

“You can count me in.” Frank responds before taking a sip and Billy grins.

You couldn't wait.