#imagine having to wear that dress for three days straight

[thisisnotawendys]

Buu Saga make-up 🌶️🌶️🌶️

This will probably be my last for a while as I've touched on every major saga and even super. I'll be playing with a new pose next. Lots more of this couple to come.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Be Mine [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)

The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.

For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.

It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.

The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.

“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”

His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’

Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.

The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.

Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.

Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”

Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.

“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.

“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.

“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.

“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.

Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.

Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.

“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.

You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”

This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.

“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.

You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.

The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.

“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.

“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.

You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.

You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.

His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”

He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.

“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.

The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.

“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”

You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.

Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”

His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.

“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”

The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.

Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.

In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.

“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”

“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.

His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”

His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.

“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.

A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.

Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.

“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.

Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.

“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.

Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.

“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.

In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.

“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.

You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.

“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”

Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.

“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”

Taglist (continued in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

[g0dlyunsub]

hey! Idk if u take requests but I love your writing style and have a request! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the Bau but they have been together for like 7 months and she is girly and like loves fashion and is superrr pretty and the team doesn't know about her but they see Spencer out with her one day and can't believe he's with her/has a gf bc they're so different and they tease him about her bc he's just head over heels in love with her and they are so obsessed with each other and it's just so cute!!! Thank you in advance!!!!🤍🤍

yes, i do take requests! thank you for the kind words, and i hope you enjoy this one <3

picture perfect.

you work shifts at a local coffee shop where a man frequents every friday evening. at first glance, the two of you are polar opposites; while you are covered in flowery pastel colors head to toe, he dresses strictly in professional attire. when love eventually blossoms between you and the doctor, he makes every effort to be with you – even when teased by his coworkers.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: none? some suggestive overtone.

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: this is probably the fluffiest text i’ve written by far, i swear i’m biting straight into cotton candy. fingers crossed that i’ve portrayed the story well… 

accompanying song :: the perfect pair by beabadoobee

he doesn’t know how to deal with these unfamiliar feelings, especially when they’re eating away at his thoughts at work. his usual ability to read at 20,000 words per minute seems to be reduced to half its pace for almost seven days now, one of his worst nightmares in full action. he doesn’t know what to think when your bubbly face lights up in his head – when your pretty features accentuated by the glowy highlights around your eyes and the soft glassiness of your pink lips etch into his imagination. thoughts of you come to light like a switch in his head, and they pop up during the worst times, including a police chase on the highway, an interrogation with a female unsub that styled her hair similar to yours, and worst of all, whenever he tries to make coffee in the office. it’s almost a pavlovian response, the way he unconsciously gulps in tingling nervousness as he pours the sugar into his cup.

but he’s a man that thinks with his head, a man that doesn’t listen to his heart.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when you hand over his usual, dark espresso with three sugar packets on the side, with the words cheer up, doctor reid! <3 scribbled with winged hearts all around the cup, he has to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. there, he spends ten minutes clenching his shirt, squeezing the fabric with sheer strength because you and your actions are irresistibly adorable. he can’t look in the mirror, because he sees you standing right next to him in the reflection, and it drives him crazy.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when he enters the coffee shop on one friday afternoon with a cut near his left brow, you immediately stop what you’re doing and go over to his table before he can even settle down in his seat. you insist on covering the wound, and you pull out a pink flower-patterned bandaid from your apron pocket. he watches as your hands lightly tremble to remove the adhesive strips, and melts at how you brush his hair aside to press the bandaid lightly against his forehead. it only takes a whiff of your vanilla scent to lose all sense of time and his surroundings – he can only look up into your heavenly eyes, which blink slowly in the hazy lighting.

he’s a man that should think with his head. when he sees you wearing an outfit that isn’t your coffee shop apron for the first time, he stops dead in his tracks. 

it was late that friday, and it was well past his usual time to enter the shop, but he could never let a full week pass without surrounding himself in your jolly aura. 

as you prepare to close the blinds and flip the store sign, you see a familiar face press a hand to the other side of the front door. you immediately let him in, and he’s frantically apologizing for his tardiness. 

“it’s completely fine! i’ll get your regular going in just a second!” your bubbly laugh fades as you head back to the counter, and for the first time, he soaks in the emptiness of the shop’s usually chatter-filled environment. there’s only one overhead light turned on, and the scent of lavender drifts with a candle’s airy smoke. 

he’s fixated entirely on your outfit. you’re wearing a ruched top with pink laces and frills for straps, and paired with a pleated mini skirt with knee-length socks, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. when you catch him looking, you strike a small pose, one hand on your hip and an empty coffee cup on the other. you then burst into your soft giggles.

he can’t. he absolutely can’t.

his eyes are glued down to where his hands are clasped on the table. when you ask him if he’s had a rough day, he answers with a simple two-word response, sort of. you don’t question him further, and he’s thankful you don’t. 

if he believes in anything other than science, it’s aphrodite and her blessings to bestow your pluperfect presence before him. it’s as if cupid shot an arrow directly into his heart, or if a mage cast an irrevocable spell on him. he doesn’t want to imagine a life without you. 

and every night since then, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. he wonders if he could somehow ask garcia to search you up, but he knows he shouldn’t exploit his position to take his chances with you. at least his head doesn’t want to.

his heart tells him to take a chance. 

he decides to take the leap of faith.

he knows your favorite flower, clothing brand, and lip tint like the back of his palm. he recites the answers every morning, a secret rehearsal he conducts as he straightens his tie in front of the mirror. he makes a purchase from your favorite flower shop a few blocks away from your store, and sucks in a deep breath before flicking his watch so it rolls up his wrist. he gently presses on the door handle.

you’re busy as usual, preparing cups and plating desserts for each customer. the line moves forward with a rhythmic pace, and you greet each customer, regulars and first-timers alike, with the same smile. your eyes enlarge when your favorite customer stands in front of the cash register, and the sight of his face instantly transmits a sigh of relief from your lips. you look down at his hand, where you notice he’s holding your favorite flowers that are wrapped tightly in pink gift paper.

“ah, didn’t know you liked those too!” you lower your head to examine the flowers in their full glory, and spencer even brings them up to your nose so you can smell the sweet scent.

“they’re for you, actually.” he speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a hint of excited overtone.

“you got these… for me? i- thank you so much! you didn’t have to!” you hurriedly accept the bouquet as he extends his hand over the counter, and set the flowers down on a neighboring table. you scurry over to the cake display and plop a slice of cake on a small plate, before handing his usual drink with extra sugar on the side. 

“all on the house!” your lips shape up into a beautiful crescent shape, and he finds himself fiddling his watch to resist looking you in the eye. he gives you a lopsided smile, and nervously grabs two forks from the counter before leaving you a ten dollar bill in your tip jar.

“i-if you’d like, you can come find me during your break. we can have the cake together… again, that’s only if you’d like,” his fingers jitter as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and before you can object, he’s making strides back to his seat.

when it’s break time, you find spencer in his usual corner, his cake left untouched.

“you shouldn’t have waited, really,” you grab a tall stool and set it so you’re sitting with your knees touching his. he looks up from his book, time and eternity by seiichi hatano. 

“this is your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” he moves the plate towards you so you can take the first bite. when you do, staring right into his eyes as your tastebuds hit the fork, he instinctively licks his lips. 

spencer tells you that he needs to get something off his chest.

“what is it?” you ask, and he points to your apron. loosen the knot behind your back, he tells you, and you do. you feel a note twisted in between the fabric, and you confusedly uncrumple the crinkled paper.

it reads, will you be my girlfriend? 

the dot of the ‘i’ in girlfriend is drawn in with a shaded heart, and you bite your lip back as the cute aggression kicks in.

you don’t even hesitate. you have so many questions about how the paper’s even got there in the first place, but you couldn’t care to ask. you’re fervently nodding at him, leaning in and giving him a tight embrace. he hadn’t expected you to react so quickly, so he hesitates for a brief second before wrapping his arms around you.

present day, and he walks with you side-by-side, your hand enclosed in his. you’re humming a soft tune and he’s looking at you with a wide grin on his face. he’s so lucky to have you, an absolute dream come true. he’s grateful for how he gets to spend every night with you, a significant advancement from once every week at the coffee shop.

speaking of the coffee shop, it’s been seven months since the two of you sat together in the quaint corner of the café, and since then, he’s utterly fallen for you. his eyes follow your every move, and he listens as you ramble about your favorite dress on sale at the large shopping mall a few blocks from the apartment. while he makes mental notes of all of your favorite items, the reality is he’s finding it to be an incredible struggle trying to focus on your words. his focus hones in on your exposed neck with a laced choker wrapped around. it’s such a fragile piece of fabric, weighted with a heart-shaped locker with his initials. his initials.

he gulps. he wants to stick a finger between the fabric and your neck, and he wonders what it’s like to have you wrapped around his finger, so intimately linked.

just as his thoughts intensify, a voice breaks out from across the street.

“reid!”

you squeeze spencer’s arm as a group of well-dressed people approach the two of you, waving while their mouths hang open in surprise.

“there’s no way i’m seeing you on a shopping spree right now!” a woman with straight jet-black hair grins, her thumb hooked on her belt loop as she leans to one side. a woman with blonde hair and red glasses sporting a colorful spotted dress shortly joins the union alongside another man, who exudes a mysteriously charismatic air with his bold sunglasses.

they acknowledge your presence each with a handshake and introduce themselves. 

“you never told me you were seeing someone,” morgan whistles, patting spencer on the shoulder.

spencer’s quiet during the entire exchange, and he mumbles quietly about how he’s busy helping you run errands.

“you guys moved in together yet?” the man continues to ask, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he smirks. you nod and gleefully say yes, to which spencer lets out a squeak. 

“oh would you look at that! our little spencer’s all grown now! my man,” morgan leans in for a side-hug, and spencer awkwardly bows his head down. his entire face is now red, his lips buried in the soft texture of his scarf. garcia and emily look at you and spencer with an awestruck expression.

“where’d you find such a beautiful woman?” emily points a finger at you while interrogating spencer, and while you’re sure she’s just being nice, you can feel the heat surfacing from your cheeks.

“shut up, emily,” your boyfriend puffs, and he quickly grabs your hand and shoves it in his pocket. he mouths, let’s go, but you’re too polite to leave a conversation that hasn’t formally ended.

“aww, is our hollywood genius shy?” morgan prods at spencer’s arm, while spencer brushes his hand off with an annoyed expression. meanwhile, the girls compliment your style and continue to shower you with questions, asking you where you were headed to and how you met spencer. 

“well, i’m glad to know you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. i sort of knew spencer was seeing someone, but i didn’t expect any of this. you’re the cutest woman i’ve ever encountered, and i’m sure spencer’s overjoyed to have someone like you,” garcia talks excitedly and grasps your hands in her palms.

“and i’m lucky to have met someone like him.” you smile sweetly, tilting your head to look at spencer. he’s looking at the ground as if it’s more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“take care of him for us, will you?” morgan winks at you.

“of course.”

“and remind him every day that he’s with the most beautiful person in the world.”

you feel a tug at your jacket, and you turn around. spencer’s face is lit up with a deep shade of pink, and you know he’s signaling that he wants to head home. you quickly turn to the group to tell them you have to go, and they nod understandingly. garcia offers a tight embrace and pouts as spencer practically pries you away from her.

when the two of you turn the corner, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure his coworkers are out of sight. he then encloses you in a tight embrace and kisses your forehead.

“i’m sorry about that sudden… encounter,” he speaks into your ear, and you feel your heart flutter. your eyes close momentarily, and when you open them, he’s peering down at you while his hand rubs up and down your arm.

“don’t be, i enjoyed talking to them,” you whisper back, staring into his steady gaze.

“i’m sorry for not telling them earlier, but i really meant to. i love you... so much.” he vocalizes the last five words with a breathy tone, and you freeze, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

they’re words you wish could be assembled and framed on a wall, transformed into something tangible that captures the picture-perfect moment of his romantic confession.

“tell me that a hundred more times when we get home.” you give him a cheesy grin before you blush at the realization of your own words.

[dinogoofymutated]

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

    You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

    “Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

    “Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage,  licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

    “You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit. 

    “Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

    “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

    “Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

    “Logan! We were just-”

    “Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

    “I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

    “Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures ( chapter three )

18+ 7.3k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, assault (not perpetrated by HL), violence, smol murder, manipulation/gaslighting, hurt/comfort. nebulously takes place post s1. part 3/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander will do whatever it takes to convince you that he's the hero you need.

It’s shortly after one o’clock when Homelander knocks a whimsical melody against your office door, deciding he shouldn’t be precisely on time, lest he look as eager as he feels. He can already smell your perfume wafting through the doorway–the same scent he feverishly pumped his cock to the night before–as a teaser of what’s to come.

“Come in,” you call from the other side.

Homelander takes in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He screws his eyes shut, pinching his expression in a tight squeeze before he replaces it with a flashy grin, squaring away his anticipation in favor of his showman persona.

“Goooooood afternoon,” he drawls, strolling in with the same feigned level of confidence he’s entered every other moment of your life since stumbling across you, whether you knew it or not. He’s taken aback almost immediately, slowing in how he closes the door behind him.

You look nicer than usual. Your hair is styled with more conscious effort, and he’s been in show business long enough to recognize the makeup on your face. The shine of your blouse is a quality silk blend, and he can’t hear the scrape of cheap cotton underneath it anymore. No, you’re wearing something nice below, too. His lips slowly spread into a self-satisfied smile. 

You dressed up for him. 

Homelander takes the seat set across from you, sweeping his cape to the side with a flourish. He watches you tuck an empty container–your lunch, presumably–into a side drawer of your desk. His eyes closely track the way you lift your thumb to the corner of your mouth and swipe residue from it, sucking the mess from your digit. A distinct pang of arousal hits him just watching your cheeks hollow.

Imagine what she could do with that mouth.

“And good afternoon to you, Homelander,” you respond, straightening up in your seat. His gaze briefly dips to the swell of your breasts as you adjust yourself, casually dusting away any remnants of your lunch. Saliva gathers on his tongue at the instant memory of you scantily clad in your sleep wear, nothing but a thin sheet of worn fabric between you and his hunger. His eyes snap back up before you can take notice of how they wandered.

Lucky for him, you’re busy splaying out the folder he brought you the day before, scanning over the list of bullet points he’d slapped together for the sake of having enough talking points.

“I wanted to start with your concerns regarding the marketing for your upcoming miniseries,” you say, glancing up at him.

He clicks his tongue. “Wow, alright. Straight to business then,” he says, absently rolling his palms over the ends of the armrests on either side of him.

“I’m very bad at small talk,” you say. Probably to diffuse any notion that you were being rude on purpose.

“Ch’yeah, I’ll say,” he says, smiling thinly. “Lucky that you’re good at your job.”

“Shockingly, I was actually a personality hire. I don’t know what any of this means,” you say, matching his thinly veiled snark while gesturing to the spread of documents in front of you. He snorts softly. You have a knack for using that sharp wit to diffuse, but he doesn’t feel manipulated. You actually are funny. “I was hoping you’d explain your concerns.”

Smooth segue, he thinks, his eyes narrowing appraisingly. He’s worked enough interviews to know when he’s being led, but he takes the bait anyways, widening his smile.

“Sounds great.”

Homelander knows that you’re sharp, good at your job, but he needs to needle you into giving him what he wants. He wants to understand you, and the stack of his films he found hidden in your apartment. What he gets in the meantime is ample taste of your silver tongue, parrying his every jab with an equally sharp counter.

He can’t keep the smile from his face.

Gradually a level of familiarity slips into the air between you. He can see some of that tension in your shoulders easing. He’s steadily wearing down the walls you’ve managed to construct.

“I still think audiences will be confused,” he says, feigning a profound concern, stretching out the time of your little appointment.

“Well, audiences are a lot like celebrities,” you say, the hard candied shell of your professional exterior thinning with every back and forth, poised to crack at any second.  “They’re smarter than we think they are.”

“Oohh, ouch,” he purrs. “Nice backhand you got there.”

A twitch at the corner of your mouth. He knows you’re fighting a smile of your own, and pride blooms warmly in his chest. He likes sparring with you, but he likes pleasing you even more.

“I disagree about market confusion. Your diehard audience will already be up to speed, your broader target audience will show up for anything with your face on it, and anyone more casual than that likely won’t have seen the miniseries anyways, so there’s nothing to confuse it with,” you say, scanning down through one of the pages of the document he gave you.

Perfect opening.

“And which audience is it you fall into, exactly?” He asks, cocking his head a degree. “I mean, given your position, I have to imagine you’ve seen my range of film and television.”

“I’ve done my due diligence,” you say vaguely. You’re good at answering without answering. Normally it would irritate him, but your forced aloofness combined with your closely guarded–and inexplicably secret–veneration of him makes it into tantalizing bait begging for the sharp sink of his teeth.

“So you’ve seen all my movies, then?” He extrapolates, setting a line of his own.

You chuckle, gaze flickering to him before back down to the pages. Too brief a glance to even come close to satisfying his hunger. “I didn’t say that.”

He scoffs lightly. “But you’re a fan of mine?”

“I definitely didn’t say that.” He can sense he’s hit a vein, and like any good predator would, he’s eager to bite into it.

“C’mon. Don’t tell me you’re shy,” he continues to prod, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

You inhale a breath that you barely prevent from sounding too obviously irritated. His grin remains untarnished by the scrutiny of your unwavering stare. There it is, that’s what he wants. The weight of your gaze upon him, evaluating, taking him in fully. He doesn’t care how he gets it, he just knows he wants it.

“You are shy,” he accuses, knowing you aren’t.

“I’m not shy, I’m a professional,” you say curtly, the scratch of your pen scathing while you write notations on the document.

Good, he thinks. More likely to slip up now.

“Jeeze,” he laughs. “You’re wound up tighter than my fictional manager in Darkest Day.”

“You didn’t have a manager in Darkest Day, that was Origins,” you correct. After a beat, your hand stills.

Homelander’s gaze slowly slides to meet yours. He watches your face fall and clicks his tongue. He positively relishes how your mask of indifference slips into subtle dismay at your misstep. Such a simple bit of trivia, and yet it spoke volumes.

Got’cha.

“You do watch my movies,” he said, tone dropping to a near whisper. He revels in the quiet way you groan, leaning back in your chair. 

“Only the ones I was paid to,” you say, straightening up in your chair, but he can hear the defeat in your voice.

“Liar,” he says through his perpetual grin. “Don’t be embarrassed. How long have you been a fan?”

“Stop,” you say, burying your face in your hands. Oh, this is good. Was he your first crush? Your favorite hero? He must be still, judging by the flush of heat moving through you. All that pretense, all that haughty glowering, and beneath it all you’re a fan girl. He almost laughs at the thought of the face you’d make if he called you that. 

“Which was your favorite?” He asks, burying the knife deeper, eager to cut through flesh and muscle and bone to get to the heart of truth beneath. “Bright World? Rise of a Hero? Justice Dawning?”

“I despise you,” you say melodramatically, digging your thumbs into your temples. “Also, Justice Dawning was cheesy, I’m offended you’d even offer it.” You try not to smile, but it happens anyway, and as soon as that secret little smile sneaks onto your lips it brightens Homelander’s eyes, reflecting your amusement back to you. Not just that, but amplifying it.

“You’ll learn to love me,” he tells you with confidence. You drop your hands, looking at him with subtle surprise. He holds your gaze. The earnestness of his words seems to dispel your mortification and replaces it with something more difficult to define, but he likes the shine it brings to your eyes.

The taste of your defeat is sumptuous. He’d prefer licking it straight from your tongue, but he’ll settle for this for the time being. An easiness settles into the air between you, deeper even than before your hackles rose with the lurking reality of your hidden opinion of him. It’s like a bubble has popped, dissipating uncomfortable tension, replacing it with something warmer.

He has every intention of turning up the heat even further.

The meeting moves forward. You work your way through his folder, and during a natural lull in conversation, he finally broaches the topic that’s been plaguing him since he stepped into your office.

“So,” he begins, interlacing his gloved fingers in his lap. “Gonna tell me what you’re all dressed up for?” He asks, wearing the same smile and speaking in the same tone he had when he baited you into admitting your secret love affair with his cinema.

He wants to hear you say that it’s for him, but he’ll settle for a flustered deflection. They’re as good as the same.

“Oh,” you huff with an airy little laugh, the sound like silver bells chiming. “I have a date tonight.”

You say something else, but Homelander doesn’t hear it over the tidal-like rush in his ears. He watches your pretty lips form words that he can’t understand. Everything falls out of focus as he tightly reins in the white hot rush of furious jealousy that floods his gut and erupts up the back of his throat like bile. He swallows the burn of it, jaw tight, and manages a tense smile.

“Great,” he barks, not realizing–or perhaps not caring–that he interrupted you. “First date?”

“First date,” you confirm, your tone less conversational than it had been a beat ago. The walls are going back up, but he’s too fixated on what feels like a stabbing betrayal.

“Exciting,” he says, adjusting his tone and mannerisms until they once more resemble something genuine. Something civil, despite the hostility in his gut. “Someone you know? Going anywhere special?”

“No, and not really,” you say evasively. He loathes how withdrawn you’ve become. You should be pleased he’s put off. Gloating even. It’s proof he cares, isn’t it? “It was his suggestion.” His. The leather of Homelander’s glove creaks subtly in the fist he makes. “I forget the name of the place,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

His right cheek tics. Liar, liar, pants on fire. People always underestimate his ability to read them.

You’ll learn not to lie to him.

“But you have an out if you need it, don’t you? Someone to bail you out in case he turns out to be some kind of freak,” he says, huffing the word with a lick of venom. It takes significant effort to keep the disdain from his face to imagine you as you are now sitting across from some nobody schmuck, lit by candlelight and smiling sweetly for them instead of for him.

“I always do,” you say, smiling thinly. He curates his own tone often enough to hear it in yours, and it pierces his ears like a thistle. He taps his fingers on his thigh, scrounging for something, anything else to needle you for, but your responses don’t give him much to work with.

“Well. If you did need someone–”

“I’m a big girl,” you interrupt, surprising him. He’s rarely interrupted. “I can take care of myself.”

At that, a thought strikes him. The slack line of his lips curls into a thin smile, and his hands relax on the armrests of the chair.

“I’m sure you can.”

Shaking off the aftermath of your one-on-one with Homelander proves to be more difficult than you’d anticipated. You replay it nearly moment for moment in your mind while freshening up after work. 

Homelander has an uncanny knack for moving through demeanors as though he’s trying hats, determining which one best suits the situation. One moment he’s a slick carnivore licking his chops in anticipation of his meal to come, and the next he’s every ounce the hero they market him as. He’d been relentlessly charming during the meeting, his charismatic smile becoming one you’d wanted to earn again and again. 

Then came the news of your date, and all at once Homelander possessed the ominous calm of a sentient statue. The moment still sends an eerie chill down your spine, even in recollection. How radically his appearance can change with mood or thought alone. You’d hate to ever see him truly angry.

“Get a hold of yourself,” you say to the bathroom mirror. You have a date tonight, and the last thing you need is to bring this kind of nervous energy to it. Powers or not, the commonality of man is easy to rely on, and you’ve developed the tactical mindset of an aloof cat. Never beg for what can be given freely. Never give more than you get. Never settle. “Be the cat,” you tell yourself affirmatively. 

A directive which, unfortunately, winds up being exceedingly easy to follow through the course of your date. James, bless his heart, struggles to wring more than the occasional piteous chuckle from you. Conversation with him is akin to drinking seltzer water–he is neither offensive nor particularly exciting, being only a step above plain water.

Perhaps James’ blandness isn’t entirely his own fault, but rather the basis of comparison he is subjected to. Throughout the night, you find yourself critical of the way he looks at you–or rather, the way he fails to look at you. Your thoughts keep drifting back to your meeting with Homelander and the way he looks at you. The intense ocean-blue caress of his eyes summons a blush to your cheeks even in hindsight.

He looks at you in a way that no one else does. It's as if he's trying to memorize the smallest details in your skin, to uncover every secret trapped behind your guarded gaze. He has a stare determined to lay you entirely bare to him.

James’ wine dulled ogling could hardly hold a candle to that. Looking into his eyes, you see only the planning for whatever dullard comment he was going to make next.

Still, it’s not until the end of your date–an exceptionally long two and a half hours thanks to a mishap with your order–that James displays a behavior unsavory enough to elicit a truly unpleasant feeling in you. He’s quite clingy after a few too many glasses of wine. He walks you out of the restaurant with an arm around your waist, and more than once you have to bat his hand away from the seam where your blouse is tucked into your skirt.

“You in the parking garage or the back lot?” He asks, smiling in a way he must mean to be salacious, eyes half-lidded like he’s lost control of them.

“The back lot.” Parking was a nightmare with how late you arrived after work. “Is that where you are?” You ask, hoping it isn’t.

“No, no, I actually took an Uber in,” he says, and you know immediately by the way he starts tapping your hip with his index finger why he chose to do that.

“Want me to wait for you here until your Uber arrives, then?” You ask, turning out of his grasp to stand face to face with him outside of the restaurant. It’s late enough now that the streets have calmed some, at least by New York’s standards.

James’ expression falters, but he tries for a recovery with a hopeful smile. “Well, you know, I was sort of hoping we might continue this elsewhere,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets. Is he trying to look suave?

“Oh, no,” you say, putting forth your very best sympathetic head tilt, matched with a well placed brow furrow. “No thank you.”

This time his expression doesn’t recover. His hands lift from his pocket and he makes a helpless gesture with them, very nearly pleading. “Really? I thought we were having a nice time.”

“And I’m so glad for that,” you say, and even you can hear the corporate edge sliding into your tone, which doesn’t seem to soothe him any. “But it’s for the best that we part ways here, James. Thanks for your time.”

“But–” Your inarguable dismissal staggers him. He gropes for recourse. “I paid,” he blurts out, which proves to be his final mistake.

Your polite facade drops. “For what?“ His booze addled panic shifts into confusion. “F…For dinner, but I didn’t mean–”

“And that entitles you to fuck me?” No sense in mincing words now.

His expression morphs again, this time into mortification. “No! No, but–”

“You thought this would be a transaction? God, and here I was thinking your gravest flaw would be how mind-numbingly boring you are. But to be boring and stupid?” You scoff, waving a dismissive hand. “Goodnight, James,” you say, the kindest dismissal you can muster. You turn on your heel before he can sour the evening any further, and luckily for him, he doesn’t pursue you further.

Unbelievable. As if you hadn’t offered to split the check. As if he expected it to be a transaction that he cashed in your bed. As if the cost of dinner was worth anything more than a polite smile from you. As if.

New York doesn’t sleep, but it does grow very, very dark. You’re on a narrow street, not an alley exactly, but not a main road, either. Still riled up, you bring up the parking app on your phone as you walk, swiping through to get ready to pay for your crummy back lot space. A clatter brings your attention up, and that’s when you see them—two men. One wearing a black leather jacket, the other with a kerchief slung around his throat. 

You stop walking, caught between turning around, which would mean putting your back to the men up ahead, or continuing forward, which would mean passing within arm’s reach. They haven’t noticed you yet, or at least they’re pretending not to, but now they look right at you and smile.

The men don’t look dangerous, not like they do in the movies, but you know that means nothing—plenty of the worst people in the world looked safe. Yet the longer you stay put, the more you sense the ill intent wafting off of them like cheap cologne. “Hey, baby,” says one of them, moving toward you. “You lost?”

“No,” you say curtly, taking a step back. “Not lost. Excuse me.”

“You sure? We’re real good with directions,” says the second man, leering. Your eyes snap between them, phone clutched tight in your hand. “Y’look like you could use some.”

“No,” you say again, louder. How loud would you need to be for anyone to hear you over the sounds of the streets? Panic swells in your throat.

You don’t know how they got so close so quickly, but as you turn to run, a hand catches your collar. The guy in the leather jacket wrenches you back against him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your phone clatters to the ground. 

“Hey now, what’s the rush?” He asks, yanking you backwards. “Get off me,” you snarl, but he’s squeezing you tightly across the chest, making it hard to think, let alone breathe. You struggle until you feel something hard dig into your hip. A knife? No. You realize coldly that it’s a gun, the handle of it jutting out from his waistband and digging into you. In a desperate bid, you twist in his grip, trying to grab it.

“Careful,” says the other one, moving in front of you, closing in. “She’s got spirit.”

You kick out at the other guy but he jumps back, laughing at you. They’re both laughing, relishing in your fear. Your fingers skim the gun, but you can’t quite get it.

The first man’s breath is hot and sour on your cheek. “Come on, now, let’s have some fun.” You slam your head back into his nose—or try to, but you only manage to clip his chin. Still, you hit bone, hear the crack of a tooth, and just like that you’re free, stumbling to your hands and knees as the man reels. You hit the ground hard, the shock of landing lancing pain through your arms and legs. The gun tumbles from his waistband. Without thinking twice you lunge for it, fingers successfully closing around the grip right before one of the men grabs your ankle and pulls.

The street bites into your elbows and scrapes your knee bloody as you twist around and raise the gun, barrel leveled at the man’s heart. “LET GO!” You scream, heart hammering against your chest. “Oh shit,” says the man in the kerchief, eyes wide at seeing you armed, but the other one sneers at you, blood spilling from his mouth. There’s fury in his eyes, and the unmistakable intent to hurt you. “You ever held a gun that big, baby?”

“Let go,” you say again, voice firmer than the tremble of your hands. Your finger flexes on the trigger.

“You even know how to use it?” He asks, using his grip on your ankle to pull himself over you, his other hand falling to your thigh. He gives a pointed squeeze as he lifts himself up to tower above you. He reaches to take hold of you again, but you won’t let him. Can’t let him.

“Yes.” You squeeze the trigger as you say it, bracing for the recoil, the bang. It’s always so loud in the movies.

Nothing happens. You panic, looking at the weapon in your hands in dull shock. The safety isn’t on. You pull the trigger again, but the chamber rings hollow. It isn’t loaded. You look up at the man as his shadow falls over you. He bares his teeth at you, painted an ugly dark red with the blood spilling from his mouth. The man laughs, a short barking sound, and knocks the gun from your hands with a harsh slap. It goes skidding away.

“Stupid bitch,” he says, raising his boot as if you were an oversized bug, something to crush. You close your eyes and scream as he brings it down hard.

Or at least, he started to, but his leg locks up halfway, and then he topples, a single horrifying sound leaking from his clenched teeth. Your eyes open just in time to see his body hit the ground, a smoldering wound smoking from his chest. An instant later, the second man falls. This time you see the flash of crimson light that drops him.

Homelander’s cape billows in the wind with all the majesty of the flag it’s designed after as he descends from the sky. He lands in front of you, backlit by the distant street lights that give him an artificial glow. He’s beautiful, a perfectly manufactured angel delivered straight from some market tested Heaven.

“Hey, you hurt?” He asks, reaching for you.

Awestruck, all you can do is stare at his outstretched hand. Tears well in your eyes. Shock is setting in the aftermath of all that adrenaline in your veins crashing your system. Through the blur of your tears, Homelander’s expression shifts from concern to that of determination.

“It’s alright, I’m here now. They can’t hurt you,” he says, bringing your arm around his neck while he slips his own around your waist, effortlessly lifting you from the ground. Before your gaze can drift to the corpses–whose burning flesh you can smell mingling with the acrid city air–Homelander rotates, taking them from your line of sight. 

With a flourish, he unhitches his cape from his shoulders and swings the fabric over yours. It settles on you heavier than you expected it to be, and impossibly warm. Moving back in, Homelader readily takes you back into his arms. He cradles you in his embrace, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other drawing lines up and down your back.

You try to choke out a sound, to ask him, how? How did he find you? How did he know you needed him? But none of the noises you make form any actual words. Your throat is too tight, and your tongue feels too big for your mouth, gnarled silent by panic. Everything is just too much. Your breaths only grow sharper as tears burn hot streaks down your face.

“Sssshhhhhhh,” he shushes by your ear, lifting you just enough to keep you on your feet, but take the weight of your body from you. His hold is compressive, but not oppressive. It takes everything you have left to lift your other arm around his neck while the sobs overtake you. He continues to hush you, whispering a menagerie of honeyed assurances in your ear, the core sentiment always the same.

I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.

You cry harder, coiling your arms tighter around his neck. He lets you cling to him, lets you sob away your makeup and soak the collar of his suit with the mess of it.

You don’t know how much time passes in your addled state of panic, but eventually your breaths begin to even out, though your heart continues to thunder. Your body isn’t convinced that the danger has vanished yet, eager to turn to flight now that your fight has gone.

“That’s it, just like that,” Homelander praises. “Breathe. Breathe. Good… Light as a feather now, okay? Like you can fly,” he tells you. The weightlessness you feel in his arms helps the idea, helps you to feel like you aren’t being crushed by the terrible weight of such a moment of horror. That’s all it had been, a moment–two at most–and yet the torment of it had felt hours long. Exhaustion falls over you in the wake of adrenaline, and you’re glad for Homelander’s arms around you. You doubt you’d be standing without them.

“Home,” you manage to croak. “Please.” You can still smell the man’s sour breath, the memory even more powerful than the stench of reality.

“I can take you home,” he coos, maintaining that same soothing tone of comfort. “Is that what you want?”

You nod, focusing instead on the vetiver fresh smell of him. You’ve never been near enough to him before to notice it, but now you fixate on it. Anything to drown out the stink of the alley. He smells so much cleaner, like fresh linen drying over green grass in the summer sun.

His arms flex around you before he adjusts them, lifting you smoothly into his arms. Your stomach flips the way it does when you go down a hill in the backseat of a car, gravity loosening its hold on you. You can feel the motion all around you, the wind ghosting over you, but Homelander himself feels motionless against you.

Flying. He’s flying. And so are you.

His cape shields you from the night air bite, pulled snug around you and secured where your bodies are pressed together. You haven’t felt like this since you were a child, cradled with such care and strength that feels beyond your comprehension. Homelander serves as both place and person–somewhere safe, someone kind–and you tuck yourself closer into the sanctuary of his arms, hands fisted in the protective fabric of his cape.

“I’ve got’cha,” he assures you, voice warm in your ear. 

Without a shadow of a doubt, you believe him.

Homelander doesn’t need to ask where you live. It’s an easy detail to brush off if you question him. He doubts you will with the way you’re clinging to him, though. You feel good in his arms, settling so naturally against the contours of them he might convince himself you belong here. He doesn’t mind your weeping when it comes with your arms around him, fingertips brushing the nape of his neck.

A small shiver rolls down his spine.

Of all the ways Homelander expected the evening to unfold, he hadn’t properly anticipated you. While he cradles you, he replays again and again the moment you were snatched. You fought without hesitation. You wrenched the gun free. The fierceness in your eyes as you aimed it had been exquisite. The resolve in your gaze as you fired it even more so.

He’d known you were confident, but that kind of clawing survival can only be learned of a person in action. He’s known many supposedly strong people–supe and human alike–who walk as stone giants, but shatter like glass when faced with any real danger.

You couldn’t have known that you weren’t in any real danger. You couldn’t have known that he’d told those thugs to scare you, but not hurt you. You couldn’t have known he’d ensured the gun wasn’t loaded. You fought as though it was for your life, and it enthralled him.

He hadn’t planned on killing them in front of you. They would have been loose ends to tie up after his heroic rescue, but somewhere along the line that stupid bastard lost the thread. He hurt you, bloodied those pretty knees of yours, and he moved to strike you. To grind you beneath his heel as if you were the vermin instead of him. For that–and for so flagrantly going against Homelander’s own direct order–you witnessed his downfall.

As far as he’s concerned now, everything happened precisely as it needed to. You’re in his arms now, and he’s still half hard from witnessing you choose fight when your instincts kicked in. You’re too fragile to choose it so readily. Your bones feel bird-like compared to the scope of his strength. Hollow and brittle. You would make for a hell of a supe, though.

Still, he won’t break you. He’s spent his entire life learning what it takes to snap bones like party favors, and more crucially, what it takes not to. Yours are safe from him. In fact, you’re the safest person in the whole world now.

Homelander glides down to a soft landing on your driveway. Your car will be an issue for another time. For now, he walks you to your front door before gently placing you on your feet.

“Believe this is you, young lady,” he says, leaving space for plausible deniability. If it occurs to you to interrogate him about it, it doesn’t show on your face. With hands still softly trembling, you fish your keys out of your purse. He watches you fumble with them for only a moment before he steps in behind you, one hand gripping your upper arm to steady and pause you while the other covers your shaking hand, helping you to slide the key into the lock and turn it.

Your hand fits nicely in his.

“Thanks,” you whisper. It’s the first thing you’ve said since asking him to take you home. He takes the liberty of opening the door for you while he’s at it, swinging it wide to allow you in. You grab his forearm, and he thinks you’re only balancing yourself, but when you don’t let go he steps with you, letting you lean on him as you guide him into your home. He closes the door behind the two of you, smiling to himself.

He may not need an invitation to enter, but it’s charming to have one.

Your movements are stiff, a slight limp to your gait. You fell hard, and the delicate flesh of your knee had ripped apart against the concrete when you were dragged. You hesitate at the stairs, but Homelander doesn’t. You inhale sharply  when he scoops you back up into his arms with ease and starts up the stairs. He keeps his gaze ahead, but he can feel yours on him.

“Thanks,” you say again, the word barely more than a hiccup, adjusting his cape over yourself like a blanket.

“It’s what heroes are for.” He smiles. It’s a party line, one he’s said a hundred thousand times before, but you make him mean it. This is what heroes are for. To be worshiped and loved, understood deeper than pop stars and false idols like them. There’s a reverence in your stare that transcends the vapid starstruck way most people look at him. You understand now. You know how much more he is.

He brings you to your bedroom and sets you on the edge of the bed, adjusting his cape back up over your shoulders. You’ve scarcely let go of it since he wrapped you in it. Will you sleep with it tonight? He bets you will. The thought sends a pleasant tingle through him. 

“Alright, let’s get a look at those knees,” he says, crouching in front of you. There’s blood running down your left shin. He lifts the edge of your skirt hem just enough to catch a glimpse of shredded skin. It looks rough, dirty and embedded with bits of debris. He blows out a breath. “Got a first aid kit?”

You nod numbly. “Under the bathroom sink.”

It’s odd to see you so subdued. He forgets sometimes that you humans can be as emotionally fragile as you are physically. Surely the death of two measly thugs isn’t enough to break you.

Rising, he moves to your bathroom. He feels slightly unbalanced without the sway of his cape behind him, the garment as integral to his physicality as any limb. He rummages through until his hand lands on a bright red fabric pack with a zipper. He gives it a little toss and catches it, bringing it back to you, alongside a wetted towel. He gives the pack a victorious little shake.

“H’okay, down to business.” Homelander kneels before you, splaying open the kit and placing it on your lap. He’s never used one of these before, but he’s pretended to do it on set. How different can it be? He cups your leg, thumb absently smoothing back and forth on your skin while he uses the towel to gently wipe up the blood, dirt and debris from your shin and knee.

You flinch, tense a moment before you relax. “Homelander, you really don’t have to–”

“Am I doing a bad job?” He asks, glancing up at you through his lashes. There’s a playful lilt to his voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, the smallest hint of exasperation in your voice. He’s pleased to hear it. Perhaps you’re less wilted from the encounter than he thought. “I just mean that I can–”

“I know you can,” he says, and this time he definitely sees a flare of annoyance. You don’t like being interrupted any more than he does, but you don’t protest further. He smiles, triumphant, and focuses back on the task at hand, petting you the same way one might soothe a wild animal.

There’s a novelty in doing this for real that he hadn’t anticipated. It’s entirely unlike wiping away congealed red corn syrup from an actor. Your skin is sweeter, softer. He suddenly resents his gloves for the barrier they provide, despite his usual reliance for that very thing. He’s meticulous in flicking out the little stones embedded in your skin, spotting each one with ease.

Next, he tears open the alcohol wipes with his teeth and uses them to disinfect, rubbing at the sores. You flinch, sucking in a loud breath through your teeth. “Oopsy-daisy,” he says, switching to gently patting. He has no real concept of what you’re feeling right now. He’s never had a scraped knee before. The scientists at Vought had to get much more creative in order to gauge his capacity for healing.

He imagines they were disappointed to realize that, once damaged, he healed as slowly as a human.

“How’d you find me?” You ask, snapping him out of his unpleasant reminiscence. Your shock seems to have worn off entirely. You look more present, alert to his every move.

“Heard you scream,” he answers simply, unraveling a roll of gauze. That much is true.

“But how? How did you know where I was?” You push, watching him wind the white material around your knee.

“I didn’t,” he lies smoothly. He’s followed enough scripts in his life to do so very well. “If I’d known exactly where you were, I would have been there sooner. I was minding my business on 5th Avenue when I heard you. Familiar voices can…” He makes a vague gesture. “Cut through the din. Voices I want to hear.” 

He thinks he catches you flush at that. Just a touch. He bites back a smirk, pleased with himself. Does it matter if it’s true when it makes you look at him like that?

“I didn’t know your hearing worked like that,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of his cape.

His gaze flickers up every so often to watch your finger pick at the seam, inexplicably charmed by it. “Well, there’s some things not even a super fan can glean,” he teases, securing the gauze with tape. He expects to see a familiar indignation in your expression, but when he looks up, he’s caught off guard by the unmistakable fondness in your eyes.

“I was over the moon when I got my job at Vought,” you say quietly, like you’re whispering in a confessional. “I always wanted to work with heroes.”

“With me?” He pushes, lifting his brows.

Very slightly, you smile. “Yeah. With you.”

“Busted,” he says, his own voice equally soft.

You give him a little nudge with your foot. “Gauze won’t stay by itself. Need to use a roll of self-adhesive wrap,” you say, plucking the beige roll from the kit. He likes the shy warmth in your voice. He would have done much worse to see this side of you. Have the intimacy of your pain, fear and relief all to himself. This glowing affection you’re so full of. He feels drunk on the cocktail of it all.

“Right, obviously,” he says, taking the wrapping from you. “I knew that.”

“Probably should have put a gauze pad under it, too,” you continue, eyes heavily lidded, expression soft.

“Everyone’s a critic,” he laments, affixing the textured bandage around the gauze. You laugh, and the sound of it feels like a space he could belong in.

He checks your other knee, your elbows and your palms, but nowhere else on you calls for anything more than some antiseptic and a few bandaids. With the wrappings secure, he shuffles the mess of supplies haphazardly back into the kit, zipping it up much more bulging and misshapen a state than he found it in. He pushes it under the bed with the towel atop it, standing.

“Good as new. Or close to it,” he says, making a small show of dusting off his hands for a job well done. 

You stand, letting his cape slide off of your shoulders for the first time since he put it on you, the fabric pooling on the bed. You step forward, and of all the things he expects in this moment, you blow them out of the water by suddenly wrapping your arms around him, the soft curves of your body slotting against his in a way that trips something primal and needy in him. He puts his arms around you the second the shock wears off, holding you with the barest fraction of his strength.

Tension drains from your body. Were you nervous he wouldn’t reciprocate? It’s an endearing thought. He gives a deeper, brief squeeze. He can’t remember the last time someone held him.

“Thank you,” you say after a long beat, drawing back. He reluctantly loosens his grip, but not by much. He’s loath to relinquish you so soon after he’s gotten hold of you. “It’s not enough, but I don’t know what could ever be.”

I could make a few suggestions, he thinks, but he doesn’t give voice to the lewd thoughts that follow.

“I’ll never forget what you did for me tonight,” you say. Your face is so near to his, it makes it difficult to focus on anything other than the curve of your lips as you speak.

Instead of responding, Homelander leans in, eyes falling shut.

“Oh,” you say sharply, your soft body suddenly going tense in his arms, stopping him in his tracks. Both of your hands are braced against his chest now, creating a distance that feels craterous. 

He blinks, brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” 

“I’m really tired,” you say, tone shifting to mild diffusion. It reminds him of the way you spoke to James, and his ego stings with both the rejection and the comparison. He’d laughed listening to you reject that pathetic, simpering man. It seems less funny now. 

He scoffs an incredulous little huff. But I saved you, he thinks, indignant panic flaring in his chest. To his dismay, however, the thought doesn’t sound like his own voice. It sounds like James’.

But I paid!

Repulsed, Homelander swallows the thought like bile. If the comparison comes so readily to his own mind, there’s no way you won’t make the connection yourself. He feels his skin prickle like there are fire ants crawling beneath his suit. The memory of James’ pathetic begging is the only thing that keeps his composure together.

“Of course you are,” he says tightly. His smile is forced, slightly too wide. “You should sleep. Rest up. Take the day off tomorrow,” he says stiffly, rattling off lines like they’re pre-recorded. Only then does he surrender his hold on you, hands moving to his hips instead. You take a step back, and he stands straighter to disguise the sting of rejection.

“Thank you,” you say, tone indecipherable. It’s full to the brim with something, but nothing Homelander can parse in his current state. “I–”

“No need,” he dismisses, jumping on the opportunity to end the conversation on his terms. “Really. Just doing my job,” he says, tossing you a little two-finger salute off of his brow, already moving towards your balcony door. You don’t move, watching him from the foot of your bed, arms wrapped around yourself.

“Catch you at the office,” he says. He knows he’s speaking too quickly, but it’s all he can do to keep himself in check. Anger and misery broil in him like vinegar and baking soda, the caustic brew threatening to erupt.

“Okay,” you say, which isn’t particularly what he wants to hear. He turns his back to you, and his smile drops, his ego violently stung. With a force that billows wind through your bedroom, he takes off into the night sky.

You just weren’t ready, he tells himself, gritting his teeth. It’s easier to be angry than embarrassed. He wants to make as much distance between himself and your rejection, flying higher and higher until frost begins collecting on his lashes. He flies until there’s no sound, no oxygen, no life but his own. He flies until gravity releases him and he can finally relax, suspended by cold, vast space.

The earth glows beneath him, reflecting the light of the sun where it illuminates a distant portion of the globe.

Closing his eyes, he tips his head back.

He’ll fix this.

( chapter four )

[gilverrwrites]

at this point we should give dick a sionis!reader and call it a day 💀 all the batboys have one now except for him (but I have no idea what his plot would look like compared to the other three)

Yeah, Jason and Tim dating with his kids and now Bruce sleeping with his ex-wife, Roman’s hatred of them is becoming more and more justified. . Can I also just add that Roman would be the most miserable girl dad. Imagining him with his 3 bastard girls and ex wife who he's still hung up on but can't win back fills me with joy and its becoming a full on AU in my head.

Anyway, okay, so hear me out with my pitch; Jason/The Rebellious child, Tim/The Favourite child, Dick/The forgotten child

Specifically, one who has tried so hard all their life to not be. Even more specifically, a dancer, a singer, maybe a triple threat. It’s not that you need the attention, you’re good at what you do, you get the parts, you have a small fanbase, you’ve won some minor awards. But just once you’d like to look out into the crowd and see your father or your siblings out there cheering for you.

You try so hard to be supportive of the rest of your family, always there for everybody. You listen to your rebellious sibling and your father bitch about each other constantly, you help them mend their bridges. Rebel is notoriously flaky, but you always step up and cover for them.

You help the favourite study. You were the only one who knew when they started seeing Tim and you helped keep it a secret.

You attend all your fathers parole hearings, all his club launches. You wear the stupid clothes and play the happy, smiling child whenever he wants to show his kids off at events.

But no matter how much you do for everyone, they never return the favour. As soon as you bring up an audition you need help with or a new show you’re in, everybody dips. Nobody takes you up on the free tickets you can get them. When you were training, Roman footed the bills and told all his buddies about his kid the dancer/singer/whatever, but not once did he show up to a single one of your recitals.

But one day, at one of his stupid galas, Dick Grayson catches you dancing by yourself on the patio outside and is instantly smitten.

“Where’s your dance partner?”

“Oh, haha. Can’t you see him? He’s right here.” You jokingly gesture to the air.

“Ah of course, hello sir. Mind if I cut in? Not at all, please be my guest.” He puts on a silly voice as he answers himself before offering a hand to you. “May I?”

And you’re sceptical at first, but you take his hand, and you let him whisk you off. You dance around in circles all evening, laughing and joking, and getting to know each other. You have the night of your life, but dating Dick Grayson seems like a bad idea, it’s not that you don’t want it, it’s just that your dad would so not approve. So, you resolve to move on, but will always remember that magical night.

Until a few weeks later, you step on stage and spot him front and centre in the audience looking elated. And although it's downright euphoric for you to see him there, you're not prepared to face him. Alas, he comes to your dressing room straight after the show anyway. Reaching you before you can sneak out, and confronting you about never calling him back.

You explain your hesitations and that golden child part of his brain understands, his heart aches for you. But he so selfishly wants to see more of you, so he gently mentions how your dad doesn’t seem to care what you do... and hey, maybe he’s out of line here and if you want to tell him to take a hike he will but all he wants is a chance to be a part of your life, can’t you spare him one date? Please?

And damn is he hard to say no too. So, you concede. And one date becomes two, then three, and so on…

It doesn’t take long for you to fall hard and fast for him. C’mon who wouldn’t?

He’s handsome, and charming, funny, smart, and superb dancer to boot.

But what really does it for you is how badly he really does wants to be a part of your life. Dick Grayson wants to dance with you anywhere and everywhere; At galas, in the rain on the way home from a date, in your kitchen at 3AM.

Dick Grayson could listen to you talk about anything and everything all day long. Doesn’t have to be performance related, but he likes it best when it is. He especially loves reminiscing about his circus days with you.

And though his job may get in the way sometimes, Dick Grayson wants to be front row at every single one of your shows. He wants to clap the loudest, and bring you flowers, and tell all of his friends, THAT’S MY BOO up there! From the moment he met you, Dick Grayson could never, ever forget you.

How we feeling about this concept?

[sapchat]

Ways to add simple little details to Prythian in your stories!

For the Autumn Court this one is basic and many people use it: Males gift their fiancées, wives, mates fox kits as a symbol of their love and good luck with the relationship. To make it sadder, Beron never did this for Lady A, so when Eris found out about this tradition he got his mom one!

For the Dawn Court: Like how the night court Illyrians put the women down, what if the Dawn Court was the opposite and the Peregryn females would put the males down. In the real world male birds are held to a high standard for breeding, I feel like Peregryn instincts would cause this and it just gives more to a story than the females constantly being the abused. Also they’re stomach/side sleepers. I talk more about this below with the night court just to not repeat myself.

Day Court is full of bastards. You can NOT convince me that it isn’t. Helion is laying the fucking pipe like he’s discovered oil. And the reason I feel this is because of @florencemtrash ‘s story “The Shadow and the Inkbird” (also it’s really good go read it if you haven’t) where the MFC is Helions bastard, and meets Lucien and instantly realizes that they’re halfsiblings. And I was like ya know the Day Court is probably like Game of Thrones Dorne. Dorne is know for their bastards almost every persons name in that city is ‘Sand’ because they’re all bastards basically. So I just KNOW that Helion probably has other kids than just Lucien. And everyone in that court is fucking.

Summer Court has mermaids. It’s basic, it’s simple and it’s true. There’s mermaids.

Night Court, listen we already now a lot about the Nigh Court but this pertains to Illyrian’s so I feel it’s different. They’re stomach/side sleepers. They are. You can’t tell me that two massive wing sticking out of your back would allow you to lay on your back. It can’t be comfortable. Like have you ever tried sleeping with like a ponytail/claw clip in? It ain’t nice. Now imagine it with two that sit right beside your shoulder blades and the clips are like 3ft long? Idk how long the base would be but like probably pretty fucking long to allow actual flight capabilities. Also when they sleep on their side they just have their wings straight out, now like laying on one and the other out. They’ve got big ass beds for a reason spread out. (Cassian fully takes up a bed like star fish style just on his stomach. Nesta is sick of it.)

Spring Court, during the Spring Equinox the High Lord chooses someone to dress up and hand out spring gifts to family’s (usually kids). When Tamlin became High Lord he appointed himself to do so. During this time Tamlin also gives many of the less fortunate families something they can later use for the Tithe.

Winter Court puts on a celebration for the children called Three Kings Day. Family’s with children are welcomed to the castle(? Do they have castles…?) and the bakers leave a cake outside the doors of the family, inside the cakes (this is a real thing from Puerto Rico/France/Spain too btw, the cake is called la galette des rois (Kings Cake)) are toys/coins. Whichever children find them get to wear a crown for the day and called Kings/Queens (Kallias started the tradition that all kids get to do this, he’s a softy).

[sigh-tofm]

currently watching a reality/docu show about game wardens and i despise putting these men in us based scenarios but imagine…

… working in a 24/7 diner and regularly getting all sorts of law enforcement throughout the night, looking for a pick-me-up before they head back out again. your favourite is the big captain with a silver star and everything, who doesn’t really go on a patrols or calls anymore but still stops by your diner as often as he can. he’s ridiculously handsome in the rugged, brutish way, with a smiling lines around his eyes and impressive facial hair. always gets coffee and a slice of pie, always asks for a refill so he can watch your broad ass as you walk away when you retrieve the coffee pot. you kinda know what he’s about when he does that, but you don’t mind in the least letting him have his fun and wiggle your hips a little extra - he’s otherwise polite and a good tipper too. you don’t know it yet, but one of these days he’ll be waiting by your car for you to finish your shift and convince you to take him home with you.

… spending a summer day out on the lake, tanning in the back of bowrider you borrowed from your friend when you hear another boat coming up, motor idly working as the driver lets the waves bring him closer to you. you prepare to be annoyed at yet another guy who finds it hilarious to make fun of a fat girl in a bikini, but when you sit up you see it’s a game warden boat and aboard is the single most handsome man you have ever seen in your life, even though his face is shaded by his cap. he asks you all the important questions about boating licenses and life jackets, and you answer them all with a wavering voice, made a little nervous by this god of a man. he mistakes (on purpose) your hesitation as being under the influence and makes you do a breathalyser test. looks you straight in the eyes while you lock your lips around the tube to blow and taps your nose with his finger when the machine beeps and proclaims your innocence.

… being out hunting on the first day of the season and being stopped for a control by a game warden. you’re a good girl, you have everything in order, you tell him as he checks your gun, sticking his finger into the tube magazine to make sure that you don’t carry too many shotgun shells. he gives you a wry smile and asks for your hunting license and you pull out your wallet, only to find that you forgot it at home. he returns to his truck to check with dispatch to see if your story is true, if you really do have a hunting license in your name. proceeds to tell you your license is from last year and that you’re breaking multiple laws here. no license (even though you know you have one), lying to an officer (even though you’re speaking the truth) and hunting on private property (even though you’ve sure you didn’t see any signs about that coming in here). but you can’t prove any of that of course, not out here. seems you’re got yourself in quite the pickle, little lady. luckily warden mactavish is willing to let you make it right without giving you any fines.

… calling in about an owl that has gotten inside your house in the middle of the night. waiting in trepidation at the door so as not to agitate the animal further, only wearing your short dressing gown when there’s suddenly knocking. you open to find the biggest man you’ve ever seen standing on the porch, and you’re about to slam the door on him when he puts his foot in the door and announces he’s here about a bird. you nervously open the door again and he steps inside, having to turn sideways to fit his massive shoulders through the entryway. you point him to the living room where the owl is perched on your curtain rod. in less than three minutes he’s located it, caught it with his skeleton-gloved hands (not minding the talons at all) and taken it outside to release it. you’re ready to thank him and bid him adieu, but he shoulders his way back inside to straighten up the curtains again and sweep up the feathers, a service you didn’t know they provided. at last he stands up to his full height and looks you up and down, from your messy hair to your thick thighs. ‘now, about that bird…’

[brucewaynehater101]

I have an idea :D

I have this imagination that Tim would wear dresses that are from like those manhwa's Villainess. And I find it elegant that Tim probably would wear a sleeping gown to sleep.

Like imagine that in manor everyone from the Batfam would call Tim the "medieval ghost" because every night he would wear those long white nightgowns and jumscared them to the point that they have to remind Tim to wear something with colour in it.

I imagine this type ↓

(photo from a manhwa named : "The Beast Tamed by the Evil Woman")

Just Tim in some elegant nightgown because of how comfy it is. For this hc, I like to imagine his mom used to bond with him over it. They would chat about different styles, fabrics, patterns, etc.

He used to not wear them as often (partly due to fear of being ridiculed and partly due to being okay with "regular" ones). After his mom died, Tim started wearing them almost every night. It was a way to be close to her and honor her memory.

The first one he bought without her input made him sob for three days straight

[junniieesbby]

༯ Teacher’s Pet |Choi Yeonjun ༯

Pairing: Professor Yeonjun x F!Student reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, forbidden romance, 10 year Age cap (reader is 22+ when they met).

WC: 2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Having dirty thoughts about one of your professors you couldn’t control yourself but to make them come true. Only for you to end up heartbroken after.

Warning: STRAIGHT FILTH. Lots of degradation. Reader is a brat. Use of pet names such as sir, Baby, teacher’s pet, Slut, Whore. Age Gap. Ass smacking, hair pulling. Spit.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.

Song: Teacher’s Pet By: Melanie Martinez

A/N: I’m all for happy endings but um this one is not ending in one I fear not. Maybe if you guys want a part two but it won’t be anytime soon because your girl is heartbroken. A big shout out to my favorite people @boba-beom @lovejoshua @gyupremacy @honajoong @flwrseon for helping me with the header and me asking you guys a bunch of questions to see what fits most! And a special shout out for @boba-beom for giving me the glasses idea hehe. ILY guys💕I also would like to say if you want to see more scenarios that include age gap professor Yeonjun please send me an ask.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Your Favorite part about your English Literature course was the eye candy of a professor you had. He was a young professor and all the girls wanted to fuck him while all the boys wanted to be him. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at him every time you walked in the class, making sure you came early so you could get a seat in front of him. Everytime you walked in, his eyes would linger on you. You spent the time in his class daydreaming about all the different ways he would fuck you.

One morning you woke up bold and decided today would be the day. You did your hair and makeup. And you wore one of the shortest skirts you had. And went to class like usual early. As you walk in you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. He looked so fuckable in his outfit and those glasses of his. You felt yourself get wet just imagining riding him while taking those glasses off and wearing them to be a brat.

After class ended you waited until everyone was out so you could approach him. He was sitting slightly on his desk with his arms crossed “Is there a reason you stayed behind Miss Y/L/N?” He asked, looking you up and down. You walked up to him standing so close to him. You lifted one of your hands and placed it on his bulge. “Is it wrong that I’ve needed you to fuck me since the moment I saw you” you whisper to him. He takes his hand and lifts your chin up to look at him both your faces mere inches from each other. He sighs and moves away going to sit in his chair murmuring a “you’re young”. You didn’t care about the age, looking at him and saying “I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years”. He shook his head and said “why do you need me to fuck you? You are my top student in all the classes I teach” he readjust his glasses. “don't care 'bout grades, just call me your Baby.” You slowly walk and stand in front of him.

“Fuck it” He whispers getting up walking to the door locking it. He marches towards you “tell me to not touch you and let you go and I will unlock that door and let you go, but if you don’t I will be fucking you so hard you won’t be able to move for days… so what is it going to be baby?” He got so close to you, your noses were touching. You knew this would be wrong but didn’t care you needed to feel him deep inside of you. “Fuck me Sir” Three words. It took three words for him to crash his lips down to yours while beginning to undo his pants and pulling his cock out.

“Did you decide to dress like a filthy slut for me? Did you want my cock that bad?” He reached inside your short skirt and started to rub circles on your clothed core. You couldn't believe he was finally touching you in ways you'd been dreaming about. “Be the good little teacher’s pet that you are and answer me when I am asking you questions.” He pinches your clit to get your attention. “Yes, Yes I dressed like a filthy slut for you. I need your cock sir been dying to have it inside of me” You moan when he moves the fabric aside and starts to slide his tip up and down coating his tip and your juices.

“Does my pretty girl need any prepping? Or should I just fuck her like shes been asking me to hmm?” His teasing was driving you crazy. “Fuck me please just fuck me” you try to move closer to him. He pummels inside of you without a warning, his thrusts going deep. Deeper than you’ve ever felt before. He started to move faster and harder with each thrust and you couldn’t help but clench and squeeze around him.

“Shit, pretty girl you keep doing that and I might just breed this sweet pussy…oh you like that? My little slut wants me to breed her doesn’t she?” The more he spoke the more you clenched around him. Yeonjun knew what he was doing. He was much older than you and you had little to no experience. The guys you had been with didn’t make you feel an ounce of how he was making you feel.

“Yes, yes right there sir oh fuck” You felt yourself getting closer and closer. Looking at his beautiful face you couldn’t help yourself but to slide his glasses off and wear them while holding onto his biceps for support. “You look so damn sexy in my glasses I will let it slide this time but act like a little brat again and I’ll show you what brats like you get” He starts to kiss your jaw and sucking your neck making sure to leave a few marks.

As you were about to come he pulled out and flipped you over taking one of your legs and putting it on his desk. He thrusted in you from behind and the new angle made your eyes roll in the back of your head. He pulled your hair bringing your head closer to him, hips not faltering one bit. He put his hand around your jaw and brought you even closer. “Open your mouth baby” and you do exactly what he says. He does something you least expect and it turns you on even more. He spits in your mouth then closes your mouth telling you to “swallow like a good girl” while bringing that same hand he had on your jaw down smacking your ass.

“Please, please I need to come let me come please” You beg him not able to resist your release any longer. “Just a few more seconds my love I’m right there with you” His tone changed and he softened down but his thrusts were sending you so close to the edge. After a few more seconds His thrust became slower and slopier. “Come for me baby, let go for me you’ve been such a good girl” as soon as he said that you came like you’ve never done before. Your legs were shaking, your mind was fuzzy, there was drool coming down your chin. He filled you up, and the feeling of his cum inside you lit a spark. You weren’t sure if this was one of your day dreams or a reality.

He pulled out and took your panties with him while bringing your skirt down. His cum was seeping out of you and he gathered it with his fingers pushing it back inside of you while he made you lick the rest of his fingers. “Can I have my panties back?” You ask him finally after you have recollected yourself. “No they are mine now and plus I want you walking while you feel my cum inside your sweet cunt.” He had a way with words that just made you melt.

You stood back on your feet going to grab your book bag and started walking to the door. “See you next week Mr.Choi” you say smiling. “Wait” you halt and turn around. “I need my glasses back” He says pointing to your face. “No they’re mine now and plus I want you to fuck me like your brat next time so I will be keeping them for now.” You say back turning around and walking around catching his little chuckle while saying “such a brat.” You get home and look at yourself in the mirror not believing the girl staring back at you. You looked like you had your soul fucked out of you. That night you went to bed in a really good mood.

*Time Skip*

Fucking Yeonjun became part of your routine. Some days you would go on your knees for him as he graded papers. Other days you cock warmed him which led to you acting out and getting put in your place. You two enjoyed each other’s company and the sex was euphoric.

You knew what you were doing was wrong, but he made you feel special and took care of your needs like no one could. Walking into class you shoot him a smile, but unlike how he would smile back at you the past month and a half he just nodded. You found it odd but didn’t pay much attention to it as you took your seat.

Even though you were the first to finish your quiz you decided to wait until the last person to turn their quiz in for you to finally get up. As per usual you hand him your paper and you go lock the door. Walking back to him saying “If I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies?” He chuckles sarcastically “You’re crazy” he said. Hurt by his words and unusual demeanor you looked him straight in the eyes and said “Don’t call me crazy” You go and stand in front of him. “What’s going on? We were just fine last week. Why are you being like this?” He sighs and turns his head. “You’re special, and you need someone just as special as you. You need someone your own age and better than me” Your tears pulled in your eyes at his words. “When Did I ask for any of that? Do you think I don’t know about our age gap? Was I not good enough? Do you regret the things we shared that I’ll never forget. Why are you not saying anything?” You grab his jaw and turn his face to look at you.

“I don’t regret a single moment with you Y/N, but you know this thing between us is wrong, we have to put an end to it now.” Tears were streaming down your face now and Yeonjun couldn’t watch you in pain especially knowing he was the cause behind it. He gets up and walks out the door and your last words to him brought him to tears. Watching him walk out you couldn’t take it anymore shouting “I knew this wouldn’t last, Fuck you don’t you leave me here.” As the door shuts behind your professor you slide down hugging yourself and just crying at the pain this has caused you.

There was no one to blame but yourself you thought.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

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[abiatackerman]

Red Date

Warnings: Description of sexual arousal (NSFW)

The atmosphere in your office is so calm and peaceful as you work. The day's temperature is comforting also it seems the bugs have also decided not to disturb you today. You keep working as you hum in a peaceful mind until you hear someone calling you by your name.

"Y/N!"

You look up from your paperwork as you hear Levi's stern voice. You were so consumed in your work that you didn't even notice him entering.

"Hey Levi! Sorry, didn't notice you. Need anything?"

You speak, smiling sweetly as always.

"I want to take you out tonight"

Levi says with a straight up blunt tone making you look up at him with shock. His face shows no emotion on it. He stares at you waiting for your answer. Though, on the inside, the nerves and butterflies were going crazy.

"Take out? Where?"

You ask him with shock, confusion and curiosity.

"Dinner. Somewhere with no people. Somewhere nice"

Levi says as he shifts the weight between both his legs. A sign of nervousness.

He is nervous. He has never dated anyone. Hell, he has barely been around women. Yet you are the exception. You're the one he wants to keep, being around and spend time with and never let go.

You smile at his slightly nervous expression.

"Well, I'm free tonight. Also it's boring just to eat the regular bread and soup of the regiment... So why not?"

Levi's eyes brighten when he hears your answer. Yes! You said yes! Yet the excitement is hidden behind a stoic poker face.

"Meet me behind HQ an hour after the sunset."

His words are straight to the point as usual.

"Why behind the hq?"

You ask with confusion.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out"

Levi speaks bluntly as he answers your question simply. You just chuckle.

"Since you saved my life twice... I guess I'll trust you."

Levi nods his head to your answer. His face is still expressionless. Though inside he's happy as hell after knowing that you trust him.

"Now…keep preparing your papers. And don't be late."

Levi says before he turns and leaves the infirmary.

An hour after sunset, as promised, Levi is behind HQ, waiting on you. His usual expression on his face, and his hands shoved into his pockets. A slight look of boredom in his eyes as he waited for you to show up.

Something red catches his eyes and he looks at the gate. His eyes widened slightly seeing you in your red dress. You're wearing a simple round necked wine red dress which reaches upto your knee. As always no makeup on your face without that damn red lipstick of yours. Your hair is tied up in a loose bun, revealing your soft addictive neck.

On the other side, your eyes are widened too. The wholes place is nicely decorated by candles and in the middle there's a red blanket on the green grass which has a table on the corner of it. The table is decorated nicely too. With dinner set and by the smell you can tell it's spaghetti hidden under those legent utensils.

"Levi?"

You look around and gasp again.

"You look beautiful Y/N. Now come, sit."

Levi speaks as he gestured for you to come over to the blanket. His eyes taking you all in.

"Ahhh thank you."

You gasp in shock again as he compliments you. This is the first time you're hearing him calling someone beautiful. You walk towards the blanket and sit down on the chair Levi pulls out for you.

"You know, I thought you wanted no one to know that we're going out. That's why you told me to come here... But I never even imagined these arrangements! How many people helped you?"

Levi shrugs his shoulders before he sits down, across from her. He seems pleased with himself at your expression.

"Four people. Hange included."

Levi says simply and calmly. He gestures to the rose near you, then to the food and wine before them.

"Who are the three others? Erwin is one of em I'm sure... But the other two?

You ask softly, taking the rose and sniffing it.

"Miche and Eld. They're trustworthy. They'll keep their mouth shut. Now, eat. There's plenty to share, and don't even think of complaining about the food, because I won't listen."

You ignore him as you take a deep breath and gather your courage. Leaning forward,  you softly press a kiss on his cheeks, letting your lips linger on his cheek for a bit as you close your eyes and take in his scent. The small gesture is more than enough to light a fire in his lower regions. He gulps as he feels himself getting hard.

Not now, damnit!

He curses himself as his heart beats crazily.

"Now…if you would sit back, we shall eat"

Levi speaks, his mind is reeling.

"Sorry there's uh... Lipstick stains on your cheek."

You speak in an embarrassed and shy tone as your lips are pressed into a thin line and your cheeks are pink.

"It's fine… It'll wash off."

Levi says as he grabs the glass of wine and took a small sip to calm his mind down. He sets the wine down on the edge of the table. His eyes go to the food.

"I wanted to thank you. It's so romantic. I never thought you would do something for me."

You smile shyly as you speak.

"You can thank me properly later. Now eat your food and keep those gorgeous lips off of me until you finish eating. I'm not complaining either way.…"

Levi says as He takes another small sip of wine. You sigh and look up at the sky.

"These types of moments..... In a silent place, in between nature... Heaven."

Levi looks up at the sky as well at your words. It is relaxing. So quiet and pretty. He can forget there are any titans, or people in the outer world who wanted them dead.

Just him, and you.

"Yes…it's nice. To not think or have a worry in the world, even if momentarily…"

"Yeah right. Anyway who cooked them?"

You look at the delicious spaghetti as you ask.

"Eld cooked it. Miche made sure it was cooked right. And no, they didn't spit in the food before they gave it to me. I'm not that cruel for that."

"Spit in the food? That's hilarious, Levi!"

You laugh loudly.

"Shut it. Now eat up. You look like you're about to faint from no food."

He mutters before he pushes a plate full of spaghetti towards you. You roll your eyes.

"You know I don't eat much. I have a petite body. I need a little food."

You say as you take the spaghetti and start eating. Your eyes widened at it's delicious taste. Also not to mention you are hungry.

"You eat like a small bird…"

Levi says as he watches you dig into the food. You furrow your eyebrows.

"Do you want me to eat like a pig and look like a mini elephant?"

You ask as you take another spoonful of spaghetti.

"No, I'm not saying you have to eat like a pig. Just eat a normal meal every once and a while. Learn from Hange and Erwin. They eat like animals."

"Erwin's gonna love to hear that. Eat like an animal? Levi... I really love talking to you. You're funny."

"Just eat. Don't be picky. You're skinny as a stick as it is"

"No, I'm not."

You protest, still smiling. Levi smiles a little too. It is entertaining watching your sarcastic way to get back at him for insulting you. The way you insulted him was cute and bravely to him. When everyone gets scared and despise him because of his rude words, you enjoy them.

He loves it. Addicted to it.....

"You're the only woman I know who's attracted to being insulted by someone."

"You're the only man I know who is attracted to a girl like that."

You talk back, immediately.

"True. I can't imagine other men being attracted to a woman who's as small as a stick"

"I had a lot of men wanting me. You can be sure of it."

Levi raises an eyebrow at your cocky smile.

"Then go ahead. Name them"

Levi says with a pissed tone and a slight expression of jealousy in his face.

"I don't want you to beat them up."

You chuckle as you hold a spoonful of spaghetti in front of his mouth.

"You're not feeding me."

He says as he reaches forward and shoves a large portion of pasta in your mouth so that way you can't speak… Or protest. You groan and gulp the pasta and glare at him.

"It's my turn!"

You say and without any hesitation, you suddenly get on his lap with the spoon.

"What are you doing?"

He asks, as he feels himself getting slightly harder. Not to mention you are sitting right on his bulge. The softness of your ass almost made him moan.

"Feeding you. Say aaaaaa...."

You say as you hold his chin and the spoonful of spaghetti in front of his lips ignoring the large hardened cock under you.

"Aaaa"

Levi opened up his mouth and leaned forward to take the food in. You can't help but laugh loudly as he says "aaaah" sarcastically.

"I just wanted you to open your mouth, fool. Not to say aaaaa..."

You laugh louder.

"Tch, shut it."

"I have a mouth for speaking so I definitely won't stop using it."

You speak and Levi's hands holds your hips in place as he looks at you.

"How about I shut up that mouth of yours?"

Levi says before he crashes his lips against yours in a heated kiss. You smile against his lips and hug his neck and kiss him back passionately. You part your lips as soon as he licks them. His tongue slips inside of your mouth and he deepens the kiss, taking in everything about you. He has been craving this for so long.

His arousal grows and he groans slightly at the feeling of your core pressed against his hard, clothed length. He runs his tongue over every inch of your mouth before he finally breaks the kiss, needing a break for air.

"That should shut you up…"

You breathe heavily as you smile.

"Your mouth is a mess, Levi! With my lipstick... And you're hard."

You say chuckling softly as you take a paper napkin to clean his face.

"Your fault. Not mine. You're the one who straddled my lap and put your lipstick everywhere"

Levi mutters as he looks at you, staring at the way your chest rises with every breath you take.

"Pervert!"

You say shyly, smacking the napkin on his face as you catch him staring at your chest.

"You're the one who's sitting on my hardening member and you're calling me the pervert?"

Levi's breath is hot against your skin as he leans in and places a few hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders. You chuckle and moan, grab his hair and pull his head backwards to make him look into your eyes.

"I didn't know you were hard when I got in your lap."

You say staring into his eyes as you take the bowl of spaghetti again and get off his lap.

"It's called the hormones of an aroused male. You're wearing red lipstick and a red dress. It's almost like you are begging me to devour you. So don't fucking blame me for getting hard you stupid ass!"

Levi speaks in a frustrated and pissed tone as you just laugh loudly.

Later, after finishing eating and talking about nothing important, you two sit on the blanket. You sit between his legs and lean your back on his chest as you yawn tiredly.

"Levi... I'm really tired. I might fall asleep here, yk..."

You say sighing as you sip your wine.

"We can stay here for a little while longer. Not too long though or else the idiots are going to snoop around"

Levi mutters as he sighs.

"Why do I feel like the brat's are already watching us while blushing and giggling?"

Levi sighs. He can almost hear the little brat's giggles. He has a few ideas of what he would do to them later but now he couldn’t focus on that. Not when the girl of his dreams is pressed up against him and holding his hands.

"Shut it. Stop reminding me that they're probably watching us"

Levi mutters, slightly glaring off to the side before wrapping his arms around her.

"Thank you, Levi. I really enjoyed tonight."

You mumble as you slowly start to doze off in his arms.

"Me too…"

Levi says softly as he stares down at you. He is slightly jealous of your ability to fall asleep so fast. He runs his fingers through your hair and gently plays with the strands.

"Rest up, Doll."

[danshive]

Dancing - My Next Life as a Villainess fan fiction

Katarina danced. Her partner, an imagined Geordo.

He was trying to kill her.

Lacking a sparring partner at the university, much less a sword, Katarina made the most of a straight walking cane she'd acquired. It would have to do.

She parried. She thrust. She spun, the hem of her skirt flaring outward, the non-existent edge of her cane just missing imaginary Geordo's neck. She bent back, barely keeping her balance, an imagined blade not an inch from her face.

She fought furiously for her life, her impractical dress an obstacle in more ways than one, the simple heat from wearing it a danger unto itself.

Still, she wore it. Should the day finally come that she had to defend against the real Geordo, it would likely be in this dress.

That point was fair enough, but it was still a summer's day, and her exercise was intense. It was in the middle of another spin that Katarina finally lost her footing, and fell to the grass in a sweaty heap, her eyes shut before she hit the ground.

"KATARINA!" Maria sprinted across the field to her, flanked by Mary and Sophia. All three had been mesmerized by Katarina's dance from a distance, and none had wanted to interrupt her. 

Maria regretted not listening to her instincts. They had been screaming this could happen, but other feelings had overruled them.

Knelt beside Katarina, Maria took her hand, and willed healing magic into her.

Sophia, still standing, summoned a cool breeze to wash over Katarina.

Mary, whose element was water, wasn't sure what to do. Should she sprinkle Katarina with water? Conjure up a bucket's worth over her head? Drench her entirely with cool, magic water, her dress clinging to her lovely skin, and then—

"Glasses!" Sophia shouted in what would have been normal speaking volume for anyone else.

"Right! For drinking!" Mary shouted back at exceptional volume while running towards the nearby kitchens. "The most important thing of all!"

Katarina, with eyes half-open, looked towards Maria's face. Sleepily, she asked "oh. Hello, Maria. When'd you get here?"

Maria chuckled awkwardly, half-sounding like a sob. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Katarina's eyes widened.

"Maria? What's wrong?!" she asked before the rest of her current situation sunk in. She was lying in the grass, her right hand held by Maria as a cool breeze flowed over her courtesy of Sophia.

"Oh," Katarina said, a twinge of guilt and embarrassment in her voice. "I overdid it, didn't I?"

"What on earth were you doing?!" Sophia shouted at room volume, her eyes watering.

Katarina, with no idea how to explain herself, and even less energy to do so, replied simply. 

"I was dancing."

"KATAAARRRIIIIINNNNNNAAAAA~!" A tray-carrying comet barreled towards them. The comet in question was named Mary.

With Mary the comet were Keith, Alan, Nicol, and Geordo, all of whom had water with them. Between them, they could have rehydrated over half a dozen Katarinas.

Katarina accepted a glass from someone. She wasn't sure who it was as it found its way into her left hand, but as she sat up to drink from it, she saw it had been Geordo.

The look Katarina gave him in that moment was one he could never understand.

[pinastrihaven]

Pr. Cooper Adams

NSFW... +18...

@yerma69 gave me my first request and asked me to write about Cooper as a teacher. I'm quite honored and hope you'll will enjoy it.

- It didn't take long for Professor Adams to seduce you. Of course all students are completely enthralled with him and he's the subject of many discussions, fantasies. Even though everyone know they don't stand a chance: he's a married man, has two beautiful kids. He does not appear as the type of man who takes advantage of his charms. He's Mister everybody after all, right ?

- You are no exception but it was quite unexpected for you to get Cooper's attention.

You've kept wondering '' is he really looking at me like that? " during lectures for several weeks.

- Cooper started to take up a lot of space in your mind as time passed and he began to give you very subtle and soft touch.

'' Do you have any other question Miss y/n ? ''.

He would pass a hand on your back while giving you feedback for papers you just rendered, speaking very close to you, especially during small group classes... His voice is just like honey to your ears. You could smell his scent being this close to him, you could only imagine the grain the feeling of his skin. You were longing to touch and be touched by him.

- Things went south that time he asked you to stay after a class, expressing some concerns toward the subject you've picked for your memoir. You started to freak out thinking you would fail your year.

You didn't really expect him to shove his hand down your skirt and slide his fingers into your panties. M. Adams just stared at you while doing so, amused by your little panting and the fact that you were lifting your skirt for more. He did slide one finger, two then three, and started fucking you really hard, getting you to howl and scream to the point of orgasm, legs spread eagle on his desk, your arms around his neck.

He made you lick his hand clean while assuring you that he was confident concerning your progress in his class ;)

- M. Cooper Adams wants you to be his top student. Only straight A's. He will ask more results from you than from any other students. Get ready for some spanking by the end of the day if your grades are not up to his standards or if you give him wrong or unelaborated answers during class. And I mean real spanking, you asscheeks will fear his name.

'' I'm sure you can do better. '' Cooper would then tie your hair in two ponytails and give you his cock to suck. He loves to hear you chock on his girth while pulling on your hair, gasping, coughing. '' Yeah show me your tears, little angel '' he would say as your eyes tear up.

- Cooper wants you to be reachable on your phone at any time. Of course your location is on all the time and don't even think about airplane mode. He won't necessarily ask for nude photos but M. Adams wants to know your every moves. He will often facetime you and ask you to place the phone so he can see whatever you're doing. Especially during holidays and when you're at home, far away from the campus. He loves to check on you at night, during family gathering. "I want to see my bunny now. '' he would text you.

- Get ready to be fucked at the most random time and places at the campus. Mostly at his desk, but also the janitors locker, that place outdoor behind the sport court (that's where he gave you your first anal), his car. And that one time he gave you the fright of your life when he broke into your bedroom at the dorm... You still have no idea how he did that and he refuses to tell how he manage to do it. He just smile when you keep asking him.

- Professor Adams gives you special assignments. You're only allowed to wear skirts and dresses because this is what he loves the best and he can access you more easily. When you attend his class he would text you orders beforehand.

'' Hey Sweetheart, you can open the present box I gave you last time........ Yes this is a anal plug. I picked you favorite color ❤️. I want you to put it on for today's class and don't bother with panties. I want you naked down there. And pick your shortest skirt. Don't ruin your seat ;) ''.

- M. Adams loves to keep you at his desk when grading papers or writing his next course.

He would tie you with his belt and keep you pressed against his leg under his desk, petting your hair, from time to time, or pinching your tits through the fabric of your shirt. You would feel in a haze being this close to him, seeing his bulge getting bigger until he fucks you. He loves to have you in submissive positions where you can barely move or escape his hard thrust. His favorite is to have you in the Nelson position with a good headlock (those who know know ;) ).

He sometimes edges you and sent you back home all wet and desoriented.

- And because Cooper keeps his lives separated he needs to find a way to keep you near him after you finally graduated. So you barely had the choice to become his assistant which allows you to spend more time together, and get more of his treatments.

[katnisspeetaprim]

Wardrobe Malfunction

Stray Kids!9thmember au, Chan/Reader, Jeon Jungkook/Sister!Reader

Summary: The stylists for the new comeback decide it's time for you to start showing off your figure more on stage. Warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, idol!au

Word Count: 1712 M.list

‘Do I really have to wear this unnie? Why can’t I dress like the boys?’ You glanced at yourself in the mirror, distaste on your face.

‘Of course not honey! You’re a woman now, time to show off your figure!’ You scrunched up your eyebrows and closed your mouth, looking back to the mirror.

One stylist was arranging the clothes on your body and the other working on your hair.

The outfit you’d been forced into was for a show promoting the new LALALA comeback. The hair, you had no problem with. Blonde with pink streaks littered throughout in it’s usual long length, styled in a sort of half up half down look with pigtails.

The clothes themselves was where the issues lay.

The stylists had picked out the shortest skirt you were sure they could find, with an off the shoulder long sleeved crop top. The shoes weren’t all that bad, chunky heeled boots. You silently cheered when you saw you’d at least have something comfortable to dance in.

You tugged down the back of the skirt, extremely conscious about how much was actually on show. Obviously you were wearing safety shorts, but those too were incredibly short, leaving little left to the imagination with only a slither of fabric sticking out beneath the skirt.

Your eyes were then drawn to your shirt. Since it was off the shoulder, you had to wear a strapless bra that definitely didn’t fit you correctly. You’d had to pull it up at least three times in the past ten minutes, and you were standing still!  

‘Unnie please! I can’t dance in this!’ You pleaded one last time, spinning round to face the head stylist, trying to gain any amount of sympathy.

The older woman just waved you off with a roll of her eyes.

‘Oh please, you’ll be fine. Plus maybe it’ll help attract more male fans.’ She said nonchalantly as she walked from the room, leaving you gobsmacked after what she said.

Once you were ready for the show, you were guided to the boys dressing room.

As soon as they saw you, their conversations dried up and just stared at you.

‘Don’t even bother saying anything. I know I look ridiculous.’ You threw yourself down next to Hyunjin and crossed your arms under your chest, unintentionally pushing up your bra and giving Hyunjin a much better look than he’s sure you intended.

‘What?’ You shot him a confused look when he turned away, blush coating his cheeks.

‘Umm... That’s a short outfit, noona.’ Jeongin spoke up, trying to save Hyunjin from the embarrassment.

It was then that you looked down at yourself and blushed harshly when you realised what you’d done. You quickly sat up straight and fixed your shirt, avoiding eye contact.

You trusted your band mates whole heartedly, but at the end of the day they were still men with eyes. At least you knew the stylists plan was working...

Felix cleared his throat across from you, cutting through the awkwardness.

‘Why have they dressed you like that noona?’ You shook your head with a sigh as you answered.

‘Stylists said ‘I’m a woman now’ and ‘This would help to gain male fans.’ You rolled your eyes as you mimicked the older woman.

‘What the heck!? They said that to you?’ Chan shot up and came to stand next to your seat.

You nodded in confirmation. He stared at you for a moment, before scoffing and placing his hands on his hips.

‘If you aren’t comfortable, surly they can’t make you wear it?’ Jisung spoke, not entirely believing his own words. Most of the time, they had no say in what they wore.

‘I’m gonna talk to them.’ Chan was already  halfway to the door when you shot up to stop him.

‘Chan I already tried, plus we have to be on stage soon. I can deal with it for one show.’ He looked down at your hand on his arm, contemplating your words before sighing.

‘As long as you’re  sure, but I’m speaking to them right after the show.’ You sighed in relief. The last thing you wanted to do was cause issues for the boys, just because you didn’t want to wear an outfit.

The first part of the performance went fin, no hiccups.

It was during the second half that you felt your bra beginning to slip out of place. You quickly grabbed the material and held it in place. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, as you nearly exposed yourself on TV.

There was no way you’d be able to fix your clothing, but running off stage wasn’t an option either.

You just put on a brave face, trying to hold back tears and wrapped your arms round your torso, still dancing as best you could.

All the boys had noticed your predicament, but all they could do was shoot you sympathetic looks.

Luckily, Changbin was wearing a jacket as part of his outfit and smoothly made his way over to you, dropping his coat over your shoulders.

You quickly gave him a thankful look, before turning round and zipping the coat up.

Thankfully Changbin did what he did in that moment. As you stood in your ending pose, you could feel your shirt and bra had completely slipped, leaving you bare beneath the jacket.

This was the most humiliating moment of your career.

You wasted no time bolting off stage, ignoring he calls coming from your members.

Bursting into the dressing room, the stylists all adverted their gaze, too ashamed to own their screw up. Gathering up your comfortable clothes, you locked yourself in the bathroom to change.

‘How could you let that happen?’ Chan yelled raging, ad he also burst into the dressing room.

All the stylists looked up at him like deer in headlights. ‘You’re supposed to keep us safe and comfortable on stage!’ Chan continued on. By now the woman had all bowed their heads, knowing they couldn’t get away from this.

As Chan was scolding the staff, Felix knocked on the bathroom door.

‘Y/N? You in there?’  he got no reply so pressed his ear to the door. He could hear faint sniffles on the other side.

Felix pulled back, distressed at what he heard and knocked again, this time more rapidly.

‘Y/N? Can I come in?’ Felix almost fell into the bathroom when you suddenly pulled open the door, now changed out of the offending outfit.

‘Can we please leave now?’ You whispered meekly.

‘Yeah of course!’ Felix answered without hesitation. He guided your from the bathroom, quickly telling Minho that he was taking you home.

Chan was still too angry to be interrupted right now.

You were quiet in the car ride home. Felix could tell you didn’t want to talk, so he just sat there in silence, knowing his presence was enough to comfort you.

Suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket.

‘Apparently the stylists responsible are being bought into a meeting tomorrow.’ Felix summarised the group chat, causing you to look away from the window for the first time.

‘Chan is still livid though.’ He snorted with a shake of his head. It was only then that you noticed Felix was still wearing his stage outfit.

‘Oh jeez. I didn’t even let you get changed...’ Your brows furrowed. All you had wanted to do was get out of there. You hadn’t even given a thought to your band mates.

Felix leaned forwards and placed a comforting hand on your knee with a smile.

‘Seriously noona, don’t sweat it! I just care about getting you home right now.’ You leaned back in your seat and nodded. He must be uncomfortable being in those clothes for so long...

‘You should shower when we get back. Get al that makeup and hairspray out.’ He pulled back and gave you another comforting smile.

A hot shower did sound good right now.

The hot shower really had done wonders in helping you relax and unwind.

You were now sat on your bed in cosy pyjamas as you braided your wet hair.

‘Hey’ Chan knocked on your open door, before inviting himself inside. You smiled warmly and scooted forwards, allowing him to position himself behind you.

Chan reached up and rested his hands on your shoulders, rubbing soothingly. Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned out softly in relief.

'how you feeling?’

‘Better, still embarrassed.’ You breathed out.

‘Don’t be. The stylists should have listened to you.’ His hands ran down your arms and over your stomach, pulling you into a hug from behind. You leaned back and allowed him to take your weight.

‘They’re in trouble by the way. JYP wasn’t happy. He found out right away.’ He chuckled next to your ear.

You were conflicted upon hearing this. On one hand, you were glad they were getting pulled up on their actions but on the other hand, you didn’t want anyone to loose their job because of you.

‘I know what you’re thinking and stop it. They bought it on themselves.’ Chan hugged you tighter and placed a feather light kiss on your neck. You sighed contently and the contact.

‘People are on your side by the way’ You turned your head to look at him in confusion. He smiled down at you. ‘Online. Nobody had anything bad to say. All think you handled it really well.’

You pulled out of his arms and sat up right with a relieved laugh.

‘I’ve been too scared to look. Thanks for putting my mind at ease.’

‘Anytime!’ Chan beamed at you and pushed your braid over your shoulder. He suddenly got up and reached his hand out for you to take.

‘We picked up takeout on the way back. I’m sure you’re starving.’

‘Hell yes I am!’ You eagerly took his hand and followed him from the room.

3 messages from Big Bro Jungkook

Hey sis! Tried to call you but couldn’t get through. I know the guys are probably looking after you, but I just wanted to make sure you’re ok?

I’ve had wardrobe malfunctions myself, but it’s obviously worse for you lol

Anyway, I’m here if you wanna talk!

[fairysluna]

LASCIVIOUS CONTEMPT

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (Strong)

Summary: The rivalry that grew between Alicent and Rhaenyra has also grown between their eldest children. When Rhaenyra and her family returned to King's Landing, they both know that the enmity is still there, but the new feeling that came along with it is quite unknown.

Tags/TW: incest (uncle/niece), enemies to lovers, hate fuck(?, smut (p in v -no protection-, oral sex -both receiving-, aegon being obsessed with boobs, choking), cursing, dirty talk, public sex kinda, slut shaming, typical sexism of the time, cringy pet names (i'm sorry), non proof read.

Author's Note: I don't usually write smut bc I think I'm better at other things lmao, but this idea came and I love reading hatw fucking so I decided to write one myself.

Word Count: 6.4k

Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!!

Aegon saw you walking inside the Dining Hall. Your face carried a gentle smile, the light-blue gown that you decided to wear did nothing but to mold your figure perfectly, and that tight corset around your ribs was shaping your waist in an almost tempting way. Aegon clenched his jaw, trying to look at you with the usual disgust, but something inside of him did not allow him to do so… he has not seen you in at least three years, and you use the time to become a fine looking woman.

However, the smug grin on your petulant face was the thing that destroyed all his desire for you. You were walking towards the large table with your chin up, straight posture and a confidence he wished he had. You looked respectable, the beauty of your Valyrian genes were showing now that you had flourished. Aegon hated to admit it.

For you, though, Aegon had deteriorated with the years… the first thing you thought when you saw him was that the Gods might have been cruel to him, for he was looking paler than ever, his eyes had dark circles around them as if he had not slept in days. The only thing that you thought was attractive now about him was his body, a bit wider than the last time you saw him, a bit chubbier and manly. You thought about looking at other good aspects of him, but soon you decided it was a mere waste of time. You would not find anything, anyway… or that was what you thought. 

The feasts began and everyone started to eat after hearing the kind words from the king, who was grateful to have his family in one place, lovingly sharing a good time. As soon as your grandsire said those words, you heard a scoff and you did not even need to turn to see from who it was. Aegon was smirking with malice as you looked back to him, his eyes piercing through your skin as you gave him a dead stare in response. 

You saw his hand around his cup, the rings in his fingers that were caressing the edges of it as his eyes never left your serious face. His middle finger circled around it, in a gesture that might actually seem obscene. You raised your eyebrow as a disgust expression appeared on your semble. You thought he was so vulgar, and nasty, that he was doing that gesture just to bother you, and you regretted sitting in front of him. 

In reality, Aegon was lost in his thoughts, not even noticing his actions. He felt some kind of inner rage as his mind put all these thoughts in his head, and soon he was starting to imagine them as well. The neckline of your dress was not enough to cover your breasts, which appeared to have grown in those years in which he did not see you. Your collarbones seem tempting and kisseable, a thought that almost made Aegon slap himself. 

You were supposed to gross him out, you were supposed to make him feel disgust and anger, why in the seven hell is he having those lustful thoughts about you? 

He clenched his jaw once again as you laugh, and that horrid sound was enough to wake him up from his torment. He realized who he was looking at, who he was thinking of, and soon a wave of realization hit him hard in the face. He cleared his throat and drank all the wine that was left in his cup, just then he looked away from you. You frowned, a bit confused but not interested in knowing what was going on. You thought he was already drunk. 

You spend the rest of the evening in silence, as everyone else was laughing and chatting with each other. You were never known for being so convivial, you always rather listen and look in silence at what everyone else has to say. You never turned to look at Aegon again, as you were too busy silently laughing for the foolery things your brothers said. 

There was a point in the night where the noise and the music and the light of the candles became too much for you, so you stood up and excused yourself for a minute. Aegon saw you and followed your path with his stare, he saw when you walked towards Ser Erryk and whispered something, and he also saw the mischievous grin that he gave you in response. He bit his lip to hold back a gasp once he realized what was going on. 

Who would have thought that the sweet and so correct princess was fucking her guard?, Aegon thought, smirking as he had just found out about your dirty little secret. 

A few minutes later, you were standing in front of the throne. The room was empty, not a single guard in sight as you watched the chair of swords in front of you, the chair that will become yours in a few more years. The place was quiet, and peaceful. The only lightning source was the moon, making the place look cold. You took a deep breath, contemplating the future where you would sit on that throne. 

Soon your peace was interrupted by the sound of the door being open behind your back. The steps that you would recognize everywhere echoed in the empty room and you rolled your eyes, closing them before you sighed. He dragged his feet walking towards you, he was lazy even to walk, you thought.

“And there goes my five minutes of peace,” you spoke sternly, without facing him yet. 

“That is actually flattering,” he answered. You could hear the smirk on his voice, “you recognized me by just hearing my steps.”

You scoffed, now turning around, “I was taught that one always must know how to identify your enemies.” 

Aegon raised his eyebrow as he walked slowly towards you. 

“You consider me an enemy?” He asked, his tone sounding as if he was offended, but you know it was an act. With him it always was. 

“I certainly do not consider you a friend.” 

You turned around again, trying to ignore his presence but there was something inside you that made it impossible, and it was not the regular precaution you always had when he was around, it was something different. 

“Did you come here to bother my existence once again, uncle?” You questioned. Aegon was still walking, each step was slower than the prior, “Because if that was your purpose, let me tell you you achieved it.” 

“Oh, not at all,” he chuckled, and then he placed himself behind your back. You tensed almost immediately. “I was just worried about you, you left the Dining Hall so suddenly and in such a hurry.”

His tone made you roll your eyes once again, he was being clearly sarcastic. He was just bothering you, as he always did. 

“What are you doing here, my dear?” He asked, leaning a bit forward in order to speak against your ear. You did not bend into his try to make you shrink, you barely flinched when his breath smacked against the skin of your neck. 

“That does not concern you.” You spat. 

“Easy, dragon…” He chuckled, “Don’t spit fire at me, I’m just asking.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Drink wine until you pass out? Fuck some whores, perhaps?”

“Oh… you sound jealous, my dear.” You clenched your jaw, “Does it bother you?”

“Of course not,” you scoffed, “I understand why you do it, actually.”

“Do you?”

“Yes… No one would fuck you unless you pay them first, so I get it.” You smiled falsely. “And at the end of the day, men have needs that they need to fulfill, right?”

Aegon tensed for your comment, it hit right in his ego. He took a step back, for you had left him speechless with your words. A smirk crossed your face as you turned around to finally face him. You had to hold back a chuckle after seeing his expression.

“Answering your question, I just wanted a moment of peace… one that you clearly interrupted with your annoying presence,” you said as you went back to your serious semblance again, “I was just admiring the throne, which, luckily for the realm, will belong to my mother and to me instead of you.”

Aegon scoffed, a side smile was carved on his smug face.

“So naive…” he mocked you, “they would never allow you or your mother to rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

You narrowed your eyes, almost offended by his words, “and why is that?” 

Aegon leaned closer to you, making you tense once again. He then whispered, very close to your face, “you don’t have a cock.” 

You laughed, “I would bet my entire fortune in saying that you don’t either.” 

“You want to see it?” He quickly said. 

“No, thank you,” you said with clear sarcasm in your voice, “you’re too generous.” 

Another smug smile appeared on his face before you continued speaking. 

“So, according to you, having a cock is what makes someone more capable of ruling than a  proper preparation and education? That is quite pathetic, actually.”

“It’s just reality, dear.” 

“In that case, may the Gods have mercy over the people of Westeros, for they are doomed if you ever become their king.” You shrugged, “no one wants a drunken lazy king, right?”

“Still better than a filthy whore as their queen, right?” His words made the blood burn inside your veins, but before you could complain he interrupted you. “Ah-ah… don’t say anything, I know your little secret; you are fucking with that guard of yours. The twin one, I don’t know which one, or perhaps you’re fucking both.”

You shrugged, “sounds like you’re jealous.” you repeated his prior words with the same amount of entitlement that he used. 

“Why would I?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Then, you decided to ignore the comment, not even defending yourself about the accusation that it was partially true. Instead, you came back to the prior theme of your conversation, and spoke as if none of the last seconds had happened in the first place.

“During the reign of Jaehaerys, queen Alyssane was the mind behind all his good scheming and ideas, you would know that if you ever pick up a book and read it, but I’m actually not sure if you are able to read,” you spoke, mocking him. “Let me also add the fact that Aegon the Conqueror was able to unify the Seven Kingdoms with the help of Rhaenys and Visenya, without them he would have never accomplished what he did-

“Is this your way to ask me to marry you and make you my queen?” He interrupted you. You sighed, “Because I would need more convincing than that.”

You chuckled, “I would rather be eaten by my own dragon than marry you and bear your children.” 

Aegon raised his eyebrow, “Well… I was only talking about marriage but if you want to include the children I think I can do that,”

“You are insufferable.” You muttered. 

“You are the one that wants me to give you children, darling.” He stepped closer to you, and you immediately stepped back, putting the palm of your hand against his chest.

“What are you doing?” You asked at once, confused and taken aback by his action. Was he not supposed to hate you? Why is he trying to get so intimately close to you? “Aegon-”

“I’m going to give you what you want, sweetie.” He smirked, his hand reaching your waist as he pulled you close to him.

You were speechless, completely shocked by the way he was acting. He kept walking forward with you between his arms until you felt the coldness of the pillar behind your back. You took a sharp breath as he leaned closer, rubbing his nose against yours in a subtle touch that almost made you stutter. You remained silent, for you knew if you dare to speak only a murmur would come out and he would certainly mock you for it. Your pride was too valuable for you to let him the satisfaction of letting his actions intimidate you. 

However, his closeness along with the tight grip of his hand on your waist made you feel a bit of excitement, and you hate yourself for it. You were supposed to be disgusted by him, you said yourself a few minutes before. Your mouth was saying something but your body was reacting on its own, with its own rules and not obeying the little voice in your head that was screaming and demanding you to push him away. Your palms were at his chest, but they did not intend to put pressure against him, it was as if they were numb.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” You asked again after making sure your voice would not come out as a whimper. “Stop this, right now.”

“Why?” He questioned.

“I do not know what you are playing, but this must stop right now, Aegon, or I swear that I-”

“What?” He interrupted you, tightening his grip on your waist. You took a sharp breath, “What are you going to do, huh?” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Aegon shrugged, “I don’t even know the answer to that question, dear.” He smiled, and looked down at your neckline, seeing how your breasts were popping out of it, “Perhaps it’s your dress, you think you could wear this around and expect me not to get hard? Come on… I’m a simple man, and you said it yourself; at the end of the day, men have needs that they need to fulfill.”

You were about to answer, but the idiot kissed you. He actually kissed you.

You gasped out of surprise, feeling his roughness and little delicacy as he devoured your lips without care. Your knees weakened by this gesture as the blood rushed into your cheeks, and a sudden heat washed over your body. It took you a while to let yourself go and submit to his touch, and as soon as you started to move your lips against his you were able to hear a soft chuckle, which you decided to ignore as your hands went to his cheeks. 

It was messy, rough, and careless. It’s as if he was desperate to taste you, to consume you. His tongue was claiming your mouth as he would groan and press his body against yours, leaving you trapped between him and the pillar behind your back. Never in a million years you would have thought that you would be kissing Aegon, but there you were… devouring his mouth as his hands roamed around your body, making you squirm and sigh. The worst thing of it all, is that you loved the way it felt. 

Aegon pulled away suddenly, and he looked down at you. His eyes were glistening with lust, his pale cheeks had now a pinkish tone in them and his lips were swollen and red. He was breathing fast, just staring at you without saying a word.

“Why- why did you kiss me?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Why did you kiss me back?” He teased. “Admit that you desire this as much as I do.”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He said, rolling his eyes, “Let us make a deal, okay? Just for the next minutes, forget that we hate each other, and let me fuck you, alright?” 

His words made your core feel warm and you squeezed your legs before nodding softly at him. You were going to regret it later, but at least in that moment it felt right.

“That’s it… that’s a good girl.” He smirked.

“Shut up-”

He interrupted you once again with a wet kiss that made you whimper. It was slower now, but still being filled with desire and lust. His tongue kept swirling against yours as his hands went to your back, starting to loosen up the laces of your dress, not all the way down but enough to free your soft breasts. 

Aegon’s hands immediately went to them, without stopping the kiss. His cold fingers started to play with your sensitive nipples as you sighed against his lips and he pressed himself even more, you were able to feel his hardon pocking against your thigh. His hands were still grabbing, squeezing and pinching your breasts as your legs would be squeezing against each other, trying to feel something that relieved the aching need of attention between them.

His lips soon left your lips to travel down your body. His tongue licking your soft skin; your neck, your collarbones… leaving maroon stains behind that will stay in your body for days. You did not think about it, you barely can think at all, especially when his skilful tongue reached your breasts. His hands kept cupping them as he was eager to devour them, he would moan as soon as he put one on his mouth. You would gasp, leaning your head against the pillar with your hands on his shoulders, trying to find some support in case your already weakened legs would give in. 

He had found your most sensitive spot, and he seemed not to let go of them anytime soon. 

He licked, sucked, and softly bit your nipples. His eyes were closed, and the expression of lust was clearly seen on his face. It seemed to you as if he was enjoying it even more than you were, for he was already groaning against your soft skin. 

Aegon pulled away after some seconds and gave them a soft squeeze before kissing you again. His hands now were lifting your skirts, struggling a bit as there were many layers of fabric that separated him from your needy core.

“Fucking dress,” He muttered, as his hands moved quickly. “I can’t fucking-” 

“Let me-” You started, trying to lift it up.

“Nah, fuck it.” He said, before roughly pulling the dress down your body, exposing your nudity to his lustful eyes.

He pulled your hips close to him as he leaned to kiss you, you softly moaned. The pleasure was already taking the best of you. Your dress was around your feet now, but you could only think about Aegon’s fingers going down to your core to start rubbing your soaking folds. He touched your bundle of nerves and you breathed heavily as he did so. 

He groaned in response, “You're so fucking wet…" He muttered, "It seems like your body loves me." 

You wanted to answer him, to stop his teasing with a witty comeback as you would usually do, but your mind was numb and dizzy, and you were already unable to think about it. 

"Did the cat eat your tongue, dear?" He chuckled, fastening the circle motion of his fingers in your clit and making you whimper. "Come on, I've barely touched you and you're already dripping… If I'd known you wanted me to fuck you so bad I would've done it sooner."

You push him away, frowning. You regain your consciousness enough to understand his mocking, and you clenched your jaw, getting angry at him. Aegon just chuckled before grabbing the same hands that were pushing him, and using them to pull you closer to him once again. 

"Don't be silly, love. Stay still and I'll give you what you want." 

"Don't be a fool." You warned, "Or I'll pick my things and leave."

He chuckled. A small laugh that was so seductive and tempting. His smirk looked so devilish and sinful that almost made you lose the little control you have left. 

"Stop being such a bummer and enjoy this." He said, pecking your lips playfully. 

His kisses started to go down once again, repeating the same path as before. He, once again, made a long pause in your breasts, fondling them and kissing them, leaving small marks and soft bites. Once he thought they had received enough attention, he went further. He licked your skin all the way until he was kneeled in front of you. His hands grabbed your hips as he kissed your pelvis, so close to your core. You sighed feeling his warm breath hitting your skin, 

"See?" You managed to say, breathlessly already, "It's not that hard to kneel in front of your rightful Queen, is it?" 

A loud and hard spank reached your arse, the sound echoing in the empty hall. You yelped out of the impression, your eyes widened as you looked down at him. You pulled his hair harshly as a payback, but that only made him moan. 

"Don't do that." He warned, his voice sounding almost whiny. "Now shut up, and let me eat your cunt without your annoying voice buzzing in my ears."

"Fuck off." You whispered.

Aegon bit your thigh, took his time and kissed them too, squeezing them and feeling your skin in his hands. Then, he lifted your right leg and placed it over his shoulder. Before you knew it, Aegon's tongue was licking your swollen clit in circling motions that made you gasp and whine. Your hands immediately went to his silver locks as you tried to push him closer to you, his nose burying into your flesh, stimulating your senses and almost making you drool. 

His wet tongue would wander around your soaked cunt, reaching your needy hole to tease it a little before returning to your clit, which was begging for his attention. Small whimpers left your mouth as he did so, and the grip on his hair became tighter, now he was the one to moan against your slit, sending vibrations through your body that made you roll your eyes. 

One of his fingers started to tease your entrance, pressing against it as his mouth kept sucking your bundle and his tongue played with it too. Your wetness would make his finger slip inside of you every now and then, enough to make you whimper and buck your hips against his greedy mouth, which seems to not have enough of you. Your head fell backwards, leaning it against the pillar as the moans flew out of your lips making Aegon smirk. 

"Who would've thought that such a bitter person like you would taste so sweet?" He groans, licking his lips as his finger replaced the stimulation of his tongue on your clit. 

Your knees felt so weak and shaky. And it felt worse when he, once again, buried his face between your legs, now eating you out more eagerly, as if he was desperate to make you cum. His slurping and soft groans were filling the empty hall, as your moans made them company, the obscene sounds he made as he was devouring you were enough to make you shake and clenched around nothing. So needy already. 

"Let me taste you, dear…" He muttered against your soft and wet folds, "I bet you're so fucking close already… Am I making you feel good?" 

"Fuck- Yes…" You whimpered, "I’m so close." 

He chuckled, his mouth now sucking desperately on your sensitive and swollen spot. His stare, his hands squeezing your arse, and his rough touch were enough. You came in his mouth, biting your lip to not moan too loud. The bastard made you cum so hard your knees bent, he reacted quickly by holding your hips and putting you back in your place before one of his hands slipped between your drenching folds once again. 

"There you go..." He grinned, his digits rubbing against you to prolong your release, "So fucking good." 

He stood up, his knees feeling weak and his cock aching under his pants. He rubbed it over the fabric and groaned. You looked down at him, your legs still shaking, your breathing still unsteady, your cheeks still burning red. He pecked your lips. 

"Now… what about you returning the favor, huh?" He speaks with his typical pretentiousness that you hated so much. You took a while to process his words and what they meant, so he spoke again, "kneel, and suck my cock."

You slapped his shoulder. 

"I'm not your fucking whore." You spat. 

"Weird that you mention that…" He made a small gesture, frowning as if he was trying to remember something, "I thought only whores wanted to have sex with me, huh?" 

"Fuck off." You muttered as you started to untie the lace of his pants, "You're so fucking annoying."

He scoffed, and pushed you down until your knees touched the cold floor, "And yet, here you are, about to suck my cock."

You pulled down his pants and his length jumped out of it, he was already starting to leak. You tried so hard not to hum at the view, you tried so hard to deny how wet it made you feel. 

"See?" He spoke breathlessly as you grabbed him, starting to slowly stroke him, "I told I had one."

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle for the millionth time. A chuckle that was interrupted by your tongue licking the red tip of his hard cock. Aegon sighed, and muttered some incoherent words under his breath as his hips moved closer to you. However, you still kept licking only the tip, not even sucking on it yet… you wanted to tease him, just a little. He deserved it. 

His hand reached for your hair and gripped it tightly in a fist, which completely ruined your braids and hair. You moan for this rough action, as Aegon tried to pull you closer to him, in a failed attempt of getting inside your mouth. 

"Stop being a fucking tease," he grunted, almost with a desperate tone. You only smirked, and soon your swollen lips were around the head of his cock, sucking it gently while your tongue flicked around it. Aegon groaned in response, closing his eyes and leaning his head backwards. "That's it… just like that, bunny." 

That nickname did something inside of you. Your cheeks turned red, your cunt clenched and a soft moan left your lips. Even you were impressed by your reaction, completely aroused by just that word. You wondered how many girls he had called that way before, you were sure you were not the first.

But you were. 

Soon you allowed him to fully enter your mouth, and he slowly moved his hips against you. One hand was gripping the side of your neck a bit tightly and the other was pulling your hair, forcing you to stay still as he gently fucked your mouth. He would sigh heavily, grunt and bite his lip. 

You move your head back and forth, trying to take him whole. Your hand went to his sack, which you fondled and squeezed enough to make him groan a bit too loud. Small curses left his lips as his cock twitched inside your mouth. 

He then forced you to stop moving your head, keeping it still with his grip tight in your hair. His hips started to fasten his thrusts, you would gulp and gag every now and then while your eyes started to get teary and blurry as his pace was quicker and rougher. His moans became louder, his breath uneven and unsteady. Then he stopped, he slowly moved his hips forward, forcing you to take him fully down your throat. You felt the lack of air as you gagged, your nose rubbing against his pelvis. 

Aegon grunted, and then a loud whine left his lips, but before you could taste his load in your mouth, he pulled out. He laughed softly, looking at you sitting on your arse on top of your wrinkled dress, gasping and panting, trying to regain the air to your lungs. 

"Fucking idiot!" You yelled at him, wiping the tears of your face and the saliva that had fallen down your chin. 

"Don't be so loud, sweetheart, someone might hear you." His voice sounded weak and unsteady. It was so obvious that he was about to cum before you decided to push him away. 

"You were choking me, asshole." You said as you stood up. Aegon helped you by grabbing your arm, feeling a weird sensation in his gut when he saw a small and slight pout in your lips. 

He quickly tried to make that feeling disappear with a witty comment, trying to seem careless, "why would I want to do that when we haven't reached the best part yet?" 

Once again, he interrupted you with a messy kiss, pushing you against the cold pillar. You tasted yourself in his lips, and you were certain that he did too. It was so erotic that it made you moan. His hands gave your breast a last squeeze before cupping your face to deepen the kiss. 

Aegon did not waste any more time. His cock was already hard enough to hurt, and he was desperate to feel you around him. He's been waiting for it since you arrived with that dress, which was now spreaded on the floor and under Aegon's shoes. He grabbed your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his hips. His cock was placed against your wet folds and that mere touch was enough to make you shiver. His lips came back to your neck as your hips started to move against his length, up and down, stealing a soft grunt from him. 

Soon, his hands grabbed your arse, and his tongue found his way back to your breasts. You felt your knees weakened once again and now you were glad he was holding you up. He sucked your nipple now more harshly, as your hands went to his hair to stroke it delicately as you kept rubbing yourself with him. 

"Your tits are probably the only part of you that I love.” he muttered with a smirk. You hummed in response.

He moved your hips, enough to place his cock against your entrance and started to push in. The feeling of his length stretching you out was consuming, you open your mouth letting gasps and soft moans fall out of it. Aegon frowned, and you saw him struggling to not whimper. You felt so fucking good. 

"Fucking- Gods, you're so tight." He whined, kept pushing himself in. He was doing it slowly, as if he was trying to take his time with you. "Mhm… your cunt is taking me so well."

Your hips twitched with his words, and Aegon groaned because of it. He also felt how you clenched around him and he could not help but smirk. 

With one more push he was buried deep inside of you. His hands were grabbing your arse, his nails digging your skin; the feeling of you squeezing was so good, so delicious, that it was making him weak on the knees. He was afraid to drop you, so he held you tightly between his body and the pillar behind you. 

He started to move, and that is when you lost your last pinch of sanity. He filled you up so good it made your body tense. He would start slowly, getting used to the feeling of you before his hips quickened the pace. You couldn't help but moan. 

"Ow… that's it," You whimpered, "Yes…"

"You like that, huh?" He spoke, breathlessly. "Does my cock feel good for you, dear?" 

You closed your eyes, and nodded. You were too drunk in pleasure to even realize he had used his mocking tone once again. 

"Fuck- yes!" You unconsciously yelped a bit too loud. 

Aegon covered your mouth quickly. Your eyes fluttered open only to find his face mere inches away from you. His cheeks were red, his eyes glistening with a layer of lust in them, and his smug smirk on his face.

"Sh, sh…" He whispered, his cock still pushing deep inside of you as he did. You were almost drooling, "You don't want to be too loud, do you? Someone might find us…"

The mere thought of someone walking in you two in this position was enough to have you whining again. It felt so wrong, so forbidden that it added some adrenaline to this situation, and that feeling went straight to your drenching cunt, which once again clenched around his length, making him hum in delight. 

"Oh, fuck," he sighed, "your cunt is so eager for my cock, isn't it?" he groaned. 

You grasped his hair in your fist and roughly pulled it. Aegon's head fell backwards as a surprisingly loud whine left his lips. The hand that was covering your mouth went to your breast. 

"Just shut up and fuck me," you said grunting. Aegon's eyes widened as you pulled his hair again, and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. He nodded, surprisingly submitted to your words. 

His movements soon fastened. His sack was smacking against your arse as your skin slapped, echoing around the empty hall. Your slick covered his length, making so much easier the process of fucking you restlessly. He was not helding back, he was being as rough as he could. The desire was burning inside his body, and he forgot all those years of rivalry between you two once he saw the way your breast would bounce in your chest with each pounding.

Now, the only thing he could think of was you, your sweet moans, and your tight little cunt. 

You were surprised to find out how vocal he was. His whimpers, moans and dirty words would reach your ears as you could only hum in response. You would tease him and mock him, but the lust running in your veins would barely let you speak properly. 

Your hand still tightened in his silver locks. Aegon’s head was now buried in your neck as both of his shaky hands were holding your hips still for him to fuck as he pleased. He was so consumed with you that he was unable to talk you through it, as he would usually do when laying with other women. Your scent, the smell of your skin and your hair was intoxicating and soon he felt as if he needed more of that. More of you.

His whimpers and grunts soon overshadowed yours. His loud sounds only made you wetter, as he kept thrusting ruthlessly against your trembling body. His hips smacking with yours, his breath against your neck… it was too much. 

“Fuck, fuck…” he would whine in your ear. His thin voice almost being comprehensible for you, “Oh, fuck, you’re- you’re so fucking… oh!”

Both of you became moaning messes as his thrusts became sloppier, his heavy breathing being constantly cut by his own moans as you could not stop gasping for air. His pounding became slower, but harder and deeper. He would lean his hips back to then push himself in one single harsh thrust. 

“I’m going- Oh, Gods! I’m so fucking close…” You warned. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder in order to find some support as your legs were already shaking. 

“Oh- I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, bunny.” He muttered.

“Yes… fuck, yes, please.” You moaned in response, without even thinking about the words that had just left your mouth. 

His grip in your hips tightened when he spilled his seed deep inside your tight walls. He whimpered so loud that he had to bite your neck to silence himself as his load brimmed you and it spilled out of your drenching cunt. 

The mere feeling of his cock twitching inside you, plus the warmth of his cum dripping down your thighs was enough to take you over the edge. A loud gasp was heard, and your release washed over your body making you shake and your hips twitch. 

“There you go…” Aegon grunted, still moving his hips as his cock softened. “Taking all my cum as the little whore you are.” 

Those words were enough to wake you up from the dream of pure pleasure you were in. You remembered where you are, who you are with. The reality striked right at your face, like a slap. and you quickly tried to push him out of you. 

Aegon, who was still too stumped with the most intense orgasm of his life, did not let you go. He frowned in confusion, however, trying to look for something that might have told him what he did wrong, and why were you trying to pull away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, still panting. 

“Just let me go.” You said, also breathing heavily. Your legs and body are still shaking. 

“What? What- what is wrong with you?” 

“You got what you wanted, now let me go or I swear I’ll-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted you, pulling out of you and letting you go, as you were starting to raise your voice.

He quickly put his softened cock back into his pants and brushed his hair back with his fingers, trying to regain strength in his body and to think clearly again. All of that while you were quickly removing the stains of your dress to eventually put it back on.

“Why are you acting as if I forced you to do this shit?” He questioned, almost offended.

“You planned all this, didn’t you?” You accused him, looking up at him.

“What?”

“You wanted to fuck me so then you can treat me like one of your whores!” You yelled, angry. Your voice echoing in the room.

Aegon scoffed, “you’re fucking mental,” he spat, “I knew you were fucking crazy but never to this extent.” 

“So you’re denying it?” 

“I fucked you because I fucking wanted to do it!” He raised his voice, “And by the looks of it, it seems as if you also wanted to fuck me, so now don’t complain about it.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You spat, standing up and using your dress to cover your body, “I hope that you enjoyed it because it will never happen again.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, “Oh, gods, please no. I can’t fucking live without your cunt.” he spoke, obviously being sarcastic. 

“Fuck you!” You said.

“Fuck you too!” He yelled back. 

Your discussion was interrupted with the sound of the heavy doors being opened again. Your heart stopped for a second and you tightened the grip in the dress between your hands once you realized you were still naked. 

The faces of your mother Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent appeared in your sight. Aegon quickly walked in front of your body, as a failed attempt to cover you. 

Their expressions were worthy of a horror story. Your cheeks flustered and burning red. Aegon scoffed, softly. 

“Oh, bunny, we’re fucked.”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 || 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: the albatross

part two: little old her

part three: no name yet

Summary_ As the force awakens, what you know as the truth starts to crumble and the sudden change of emotions for Kylo Ren also interfere with your destiny.

Warnings_ age gap? lol (reader 20, Kylo 28), slowburn, ? to almost lovers to enemies to lovers xd, eventual angst, fluff and dramaaa

A/N_ this is exactly how I imagine myself in the Skywalker Saga bye. song recs: the albatross (Taylor Swift) and psycho (EMM).

♪ ♫ my Adam playlist (awful) ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

There was a crack in the glass. A straight line was visible in the glass separating you from the stars. Was it dangerous enough to break the whole thing with pressure? Not your business. You had been part of the First Order long enough to know that by the next days over, that crack was going to be gone. They cared a lot about their surroundings. No wonder why their floors were always shiny and squeaky.

A pair of boots can be heard. You remain looking at the glass. The pair of boots do not sound squeaky against the black floors. These are angry steps, confident and threatening.

“You were expected to lead a division of stormtroopers along Phasma. I was clear enough about meeting you in Jakku” Kylo Ren says through his well-known modulated voice. You can hear his breathing, he’s angry.

In four years of knowing him, you got used to his terrible anger control. So you remained calm. Or at least tried to do so.

“And you knew that I had an important dinner in Canto Bight. Supreme Leader Snoke said you were notified of my departure.” You respect him, a lot. But ever since you were saved by The First Order at eleven years old, Snoke told you to cover your face until you were old enough to show your face to the galaxy. Whatever that meant, you obeyed him. And refused to turn around and face the masked man. On rare occasions, you had seen his face, as well for him. It was a weird dynamic.

“Supreme Leader Snoke might have the last word, but you always come and report to me first, not him.” You sigh, tired of never being able to get a compliment from him. Four years, and you feel like time has slowly passed. You have so much to give, but nothing to rely on that thought.

“This is the last time I want to hear about you not following my command. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Master Ren.”

There’s more. You already know that little pause he tends to make before adding more.

“Dinner is over, get changed and ready. The map to Skywalker is in a droid, it should be back with us soon.”

He leaves and you finally turn, looking at his tall and imposing figure walking away. Then you look down, checking at your dress, all black and covering you. You liked feeling dressed up, wearing heels, using exotic makeup, and letting your hair free. But you weren’t a fancy woman of Canto Bight, you were a force user with a military ranking in The First Order. You were a young woman who knew nothing other than lies, which remained unknown to you. But not for so long…

…

You look at General Hux and your master arguing once again. The BB unit droid being unable to be found was transforming into a big issue for everyone. You hadn’t had time to train, you just looked at your superiors sending daggers through each other’s eyes. When Ren left, you walked towards Hux. You notice how tense and tired he is, holding his serious and professional facade as long as he can.

“How can you stand him after all this time? I’ve been here longer than him, but I haven’t known him long enough like you” The red-haired man makes a face of disgust at your words.

“I’ve learned to not care enough, I just care about Snoke preferring my techniques rather than his. After all, he is just the Supreme Leader’s puppet” You frown, but you then remember. Snoke took Ben Solo under his wing, there was no Kylo Ren before. You were still eleven when he joined, he had killed the original leader of the knights of Ren and everyone started fearing him. Except for Hux who was just starting to lead his father’s legacy at the time.

“Do you think I’m a puppet as well?” Hux shrugs, then looks at you. He has known you since you were a teenager and he was a young adult. For some reason, he knows you very well.

“I cannot tell what you are to Snoke. But you are Ren’s albatross” he says, making you smile. You avoided causing trouble, but it was evident that all you did was annoy your master, instead of bonding with him like you wanted. Because Phasma was not mean to you, Hux was something like a friend, but you wanted to not feel alone. You wanted to feel the warmth of a bond.

“All I want is from him is to not make me feel like a burden”

“Stop caring about what he thinks. Your goal should be to prove yourself to Snoke”

Maybe he’s right.

…

Hux's advice keeps coming back to your thoughts. You shut your thoughts to your master, who is sitting beside you, piloting a ship.

“Was the next step in my training necessary to be outside of the Starkiller base?” Later that day, Ren and you met with Snoke. His hologram assured you were ready to take another step in your training. Then your master literally dragged you to a ship and quietly started a route unknown to you.

“Yes.” He says uninterested, mask fixated on the control of the ship.

“Oh.”

He takes a small glimpse of you. Your black attire partially covers your face with a delicate transparent fabric, it was difficult to see if he had given you bruises over the years of training. You have sad eyes, and he can’t help but feel a little like the cause of it. He doesn’t hate you like you believe. It just was so fucking difficult to have someone under his mentorship when Kylo Ren himself still felt like his training wasn’t over.

“Can you still see your surroundings if you cover your eyes with that thing?” He suddenly asks, making you frown in confusion.

“Uhh… yes. Why?”

“It’ll be better if you cover your whole face when we get to our destination?” He made you believe it was to be in disguise but actually, it was because he was taking you to a place that was used by ancient Jedis. Snoke couldn’t know where the mission happened, just that it was completed. He was taken there by his father when he was a kid. Ren knew he shouldn't be there, but something from the place was calling him.

“Oh, okay.” You limit yourself to say. He nods and you know you are in Dantooine once he enters the planet. There is an orange sunset covering the empty land. It was only a field that you saw after your master carefully and perfectly landed the ship.

“Master Ren, this is beautiful.” You say as soon as your boots touch the yellow grass, breathing the fresh and almost pure air.

“This isn’t the reason why I brought you here”

He can see some strands of your hair flying around the edges of the fabric covering your face. He can sense you are in a state of pure relaxation. It surprises him to see you like this. Even he feels… peace?

“Aren’t we gonna train here?” He sighs under his helmet.

“Follow me.” He guides you towards the little mountain. It’s a simple hike. At the top, there’s a curve and the entrance of a cave. He gestures for you to walk inside. It confuses you enough to frown and stop moving.

“You want me to go in?” You just know he is rolling his eyes inside the helmet.

“Correct. You go alone and pick a crystal. Remember… you’ll know once it’s calling you” You can’t hide your surprise. But knowing who your master is, you just nod, entering the cave. The day you would build your lightsaber was coming, but it shocked you to know it was already happening.

As soon as you start venturing inside the cave, some crystals start sparkling in blue, yellow, dark green, purple, and indigo. The force feels incredibly strong inside the cave. And you know that isn’t how the dark side feels. It was peace, balance, order. Some blue crystals shine brighter than others. But finally, one starts pulling you towards it. It’s a bright green, like lime and mint mixed. It was beautiful, it transmitted a feeling of wisdom. Your hand touched it, and a shiver ran through your spine. The voice of a man clearly echoed suddenly.

The light is closer than you know, y/n.

You pulled the crystal quickly and looked around, the cave became dark, as all the crystals stopped shining, except for the one in your hands.

That wasn’t the voice of Ren. Perhaps it was just the cave. But it felt very personal. Almost like the voice knew you.

When you get out of the cave, it’s almost dark. What you thought it was a couple of minutes had actually been almost an hour. And Ren is there, holding his helmet in his hand. His face takes you aback. Sometimes you forget he is also a human like you.

He glares at you and starts looking, probably for the crystal. So you show it to him.

You know what's next, and honestly, you weren’t ready.

“This is where I suppose I have to make it bleed” Kylo almost wants you to keep the crystal-like it is, it was certainly beautiful. And your happiness was resulting infectious.

“Do it when you’re alone. It’s not easy to do so, you need to concentrate…”

“And let the pain take over me, I know, master,” you say, almost angry at him suddenly. You just hated the process. It was enough to feel alone already.

“I can help you… If you want.” The fabric in your face had been brushed aside, showing most of your features. Ren sees each mole, the dryness in your lips, the hope in your eyes. And he understood you just wanted someone to bond with. He felt it a while ago, a little after you two officially met and started working together, but he wasn’t just ready to share anything of himself. Yet, when you stare at his full lips, sad eyes, and non-expressive face, he knows he can have a potential ally staring at him in that empty valley.

“I would like that…” he nods, starting to go down the little mountain once again.

“Wait, master Ren” he turns to face you.

“When I touched the crystal, I heard a voice, it was a man. I thought it was the cave, but it just felt weird, like it was meant to be for me”

“What did the voice say?” He asks you to stay quiet. He senses you are unsure whether to tell him or not. He walks back again, staying just inches away from you.

“You can tell me…” he meant it, staring through your lashes, he expects your answer.

“That…that the light was closer than I know” you admit looking at the hem of his black robes.

“I’ve felt it too, a pull towards the light” his words leave you shocked. You gulp, blinking a few times before staring at his brown eyes again.

“We can’t fail…” the way you said, it made him feel like… he wasn’t alone.

…

The room is cold, and dark and has a peculiar smell of humid rocks. Snoke appears in a hologram form, sitting on a throne that makes him look impossibly taller.

“Dear child, What is it that has your thoughts running unstable?” His raspy voice echoes everywhere, you focus on his face, trying to see anything, but Snoke has never shown signs of emotion.

“We haven’t received any news from the ambush in Takodana…” Your voice trembles a little bit, and Snoke notices it.

“You are quickly caring too much for your master suddenly”

Busted.

“I want to care for him… and as much as I hate to admit it, I want him to care for me” you accept, looking down, embarrassed.

“But of course, you need to build a connection with your master. Is there anything conflicting with you?” You certainly don’t want to tell him about the incident in the cave. But you know the supreme leader must’ve already sensed it.

“When I was searching for the crystal for my lightsaber, a voice called me, saying that light was closer than I knew. Supreme leader… What could that possibly mean?”

“When I found you, my dear child, your home was already a living hell. But the lands where you came from were once filled with so much light. Your roots will always call you, it is in yourself to keep being on the right path” It might have been a comment, but it felt like a threat. A warning that you had to remain faithful to the dark side.

“Go and find your master. Gain his trust and guide each other towards your mutual goal; finding Skywalker and destroying the hope of the Jedi.” You nod, lowering your head as his hologram disappears.

In the silence of that empty room, you meditate on what just happened.

Your inner voice was clear; Snoke was keeping some details to himself. You never thought of your past. You lounged a family because you knew you had one, but… it didn’t matter anymore. Only that the curiosity was inevitably growing.

Quietly you leave the room. The hallways of the base are filled with troopers walking and moving in different directions.

They came back from Takodana.

You start walking faster, pacing till you stumble upon a dark tall known figure. Kylo Ren looked incredibly intimidating with the mask and hood together. He gestures to you to go inside an empty planning room and you open the door. He was looking for you too.

He follows quietly, closing the same door. His hands remove his helmet and place it on a table. You are just analyzing each movement he does.

“Did you get the map?” you ask straight to the point. Ren actually wanted to ask if you had finished building your saber. But you had other questions.

“In a certain way, yes.” You cross your arms, confused at him.

“Can you be more specific?”

“The scavenger, she has seen the map.” you huff in disbelief.

“What? You brought a dirty scavenger instead of the droid?” his face covered in moles sighs, quickly losing patience, you can tell.

“I’ll take the map from her”

“Don’t underestimate that girl. She has been able to get away so far, she might be more dangerous than we thought” he rolls his eyes.

“Stop it.”

“This is nonsense. We were supposed to have the actual map with us and-“

“ENOUGH!” He yells, his hand rises and you are quick to suppress his use of the force, making him bend half of a chair that was near.

Shocked, you realize he was going to choke you. Anger quickly builds up, and Hux’s advice rings into your head; Stop caring about what he thinks. Your goal should be to prove yourself to Snoke.

“You are my master but I will never be tired to remind everyone I’ve been here long enough to know what is convenient for us and what isn’t. You just might have invited the whole Resistance to the base and it won’t be my fault, Master Ren.” You push past him and you leave the room slamming the door. You take off the fabric in your face out of anger.

Some minutes pass and you are still mad. He was such an asshole. Always giving you the cold shoulder instead of listening to you. You were younger, but you had almost the same training from Snoke as him. Ren was difficult and very stubborn. Whoever was the famous scavenger, you could feel she was going to be a problem.

Out of nowhere Phasma appears, holding a blaster and looking down at you.

“Lieutenant y/n, your command is required by General Hux” You nod, calming yourself as you start walking with the woman. You pass near the throne room and you are able to hear Snoke and Kylo’s voices. You stop Phasma and she seems taken aback, but soon you tell her to hear and she relaxes.

“We’re going to get caught” she whispers. The woman was known to be on her business and on no one else’s.

“I’ll be quick” you whisper back.

Then Snoke starts saying Kylo is going weak. He reminds your master about his father; the infamous Han Solo. That the scavenger resisted him and that he isn’t putting your training on his priorities.

You hear Kylo say he always thinks back on you. And you know you shouldn’t have blushed or felt your heart racing, but you did. He made it sound like he cared for you.

“There are many mysteries surrounding us that she must not know,” Snoke says and it triggers you. Thankfully Phasma pulls you away and forces you to keep walking. Probably just in time so Kylo wouldn’t see you overhearing.

Snoke isn’t telling you everything. Ren knows something too.

“Everyone heard your argument with Commander Ren,” Phasma says teasing, but also commenting to warn you. It didn’t surprise you that the argument was loud. Any argument with Kylo ends up being in the news of the First Order. Also, Phasma doesn’t say anything about the conversation you two just overheard.

“I’m getting tired of being his apprentice. I want to succeed by myself, not by being his shadow.”

“Your time will come. A little treason wouldn’t hurt. Everyone here is dying to escalate in ranking” she admits. You look at her chrome helmet with curiosity.

“You seem happy with your position forever”

“I am.” Phasma must’ve been smiling under the helmet.

She disappears as soon as you both reach the command center.

Hux is there, along with other officials who monitor the aftermath of the weapon that had just attacked the Republic.

“The girl escaped and Ren must be angrier than ever,” the red-haired man says looking straight at you, with his hands behind his back.

“She is force sensitive…” Hux nods.

“I knew this was bad. I told Master Ren, but he didn’t listen…” An anxious feeling starts creeping into your stomach.

“Yes. And thanks to his little outburst and obsession with the girl, we are closely monitoring if we have a sudden attack from the Rebels” Once again, you sigh.

The feeling in your stomach grows, making you frown. Hux also frowns, caressing your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You feel a sudden pain in your chest and you describe it. It was Kylo, someone he loved who died. It had to be his father or mother.

“Something's off, I can feel it” you manage to say. At the same time, a loud explosion is heard, the floor is assaulted by a little tremor and alarms start sounding.

You exchange worried looks with Hux and both run to see what just happened.

The chaos quickly envelops the Starkiller base, there are troopers moving everywhere, officers getting in and out to report things to you and Hux. And still, you are only thinking about your master. Was he safe?

Your guts were telling you he wasn’t safe.

With the invasion of the Rebels, everything was getting trickier.

“We need to evacuate. The base is about to collapse, lava is going to consume the surroundings at any time” Hux says hurriedly.

“I won’t leave without Ren. I will go for him!” before you can leave, the man grabs your forearm.

“Be quick, a boarding ship will be waiting for you both… but not for long” You nod, offering a serious smile before leaving.

The base was enormous, you had no idea where could Ren be. Each step feels unsure because you don’t know where you’re going, you try to concentrate but the constant explosions and screams from people entering in panic don’t help at all.

Master Ren, please, guide me towards you, you repeat in your head, hoping he’d hear.

Through the wide crystals, you can see TIEs and X-Wings flying around, and you grow impatient.

You stop when another tremor comes. Holding onto a wall, you close your eyes, trying to reach for Ren one last time.

You call him. Doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want your help, or if he’s mad at you for yelling, you just know you don’t want to leave the base without him.

Snow, droplets of blood in the white snow. The scream of a woman and the sound of sabers colliding.

He answered.

…

The lava makes you hurry, time is running out. The snow is fresh, it makes your boots sink and turn your steps slower. The beating of your heart grows as you distantly see a purple light, created by a blue and a red lightsaber.

They don’t notice you yet, but you are able to see a man unconscious near the woman fighting your master; the scavenger.

She’s skilled, fearless and you have to admit it impressed you. But the thought is quickly gone when you arrive, witnessing how the woman sliced your master’s face.

“KYLO!” You scream in horror when he falls, dropping his saber. The woman turns to look at you and you send her flying, making her skull collide against a rock. You run towards the man and kneel beside him.

His face was covered in blood, it was a deep wound, part of his attire was ripped, and you could see his shoulder bleeding.

“I’m here… I’m here.” Your desperate attempts to make him gain stability fail. But he slowly blinks, holding onto your hip to clear his vision and stop feeling like everything is spinning. His face hurts, his head pulses and he feels on the verge of fainting. But he’s able to clearly see your face. You came to help him.

“I’m not leaving without you.” You say touching his chin, trying to calm him.

A lightsaber ignites and you know the scavenger was still there. Your little moment of vulnerability was enough to make her recover.

You stand, turning to face her. She looks pissed, desperate to run, but so you are.

You grab your freshly made lightsaber. It’s dark chrome and with tiny details that resemble constellations and stars. And it’s cold, but soon turns warm when you ignite it, revealing a red double-sided saber.

The scavenger runs, confident that she will attack and target you. But you’re quick, you remember Kylo saying you had the ability to use your reflects too quickly.

The double sides of your weapon trigger the young woman, who is already tired. You can see how she huffs annoyed. But you take that to your advantage. You keep hitting her blue saber until she starts giving up. She is conflicted, she is a nobody, and you can feel how alone she has been.

Her weaknesses are your strength, and in the blink of an eye, you have burned her leg, making her scream and fall. And before you can do anything, a trail of lava appears, and the whole base is about to disappear. The scavenger gives one last curious look before running away. And finally giving you time to run back to Kylo, who is still breathing and wants to fall unconscious.

“Stay awake, hold onto me. We need to get to the boarding ship to leave” he seems to have nodded, his strong arms feel heavy and weak. It’s difficult to walk with his massive weight relying most of it on you.

With each step, he keeps leaving a little trail of blood. You need to hurry, the snow is slowly melting, drenching your boots.

Kylo is in shock, he tries to process everything but he can’t, because it isn’t over, he needs to get to that ship. But somehow, he holds onto you. He feels slightly better knowing that you came for him. That you are guiding him through the woods.

To him, the sudden change of getting closer to you was abrupt. He wasn’t used to talking much or looking out for someone. Not even with his knights.

He succeeded for a long time having no issues with you. But now, you dragged his body into the ship, his body lying and a droid immediately checking him. He hears distant voices and through blurred vision, he sees you talking with Hux.

He overheard the annoying General saying how much of a trouble you were for him. You started twisting his thoughts, the need to feel closer to you, the attraction towards the light. Hux was right.

You were Kylo Ren’s albatross.

_______________________________________________

To keep going with this mini series or not lol