#in opposite directions** outright)

[patrice-bergerons]

I keep thinking about just how much love and affection there is from Admiral Hennessy's side in that final confrontation with James, and how it makes the whole thing all the more devastating.

Had Hennessy responded to the news of James and Thomas' affair with revulsion and anger, it would have been easy, far easier, to cast him aside as a "villain" — both for us as the audience, and also I think, for James.

But earlier in the episode we hear that James considers him to be a father figure and here, right before they walk into that office with Alfred Hamilton waiting for them in it, knowing full well what James has done, he still calls James son:

Good God. You perceive the danger about this to be imagined. I told you when this began to be careful of those people. To be aware of just how sharp and unexpected the knife would be if you discounted that danger. I'd thought you'd heard me, son.

There is no reason for him to do that, not to someone he is about to permanently cast out of his life. Once they walk inside too, Hennesy's lips utter that terrible pronouncement but his expression, his voice is so gentle as he does it. Alfred Hamilton is in the room with them and what James has done is so outside cultural norms, it severely limits what Hennessy can say or do. Without uttering the words, this scene is yet another entry in the show's collection of "this is not what I wanted"s.

In fact, while AH would like to avoid the scandal of his son having a homosexual relationship, I have no doubt there were ways to hang James that would be equally if not more amenable to him that would not cause such scandal, and yet they give him a way out of London without any charges to his person, quite likely because it was the best Hennessy could manage to salvage under the circumstances. And yet still, Hennesy's words:

I would like to defend you. I would like to remind myself that every man has his flaws, his weaknesses that torment him. I would like to help you recover from yours. But not this. It is too profane; it is too loathsome to be dismissed. This is your end.

I keep thinking about what James tells Miranda in s1 re the pardon to go to Boston: "They took everything from us, and then they called me a monster." But who called him a monster? Given how quickly he and Miranda have to leave London after that confrontation in Hennessy's office, not to mention the way the actual affair with Thomas is swept under the rug, I highly doubt he had any more conversations about it except what transpired in Hennesy's office.

It is so much more devastating I think when someone says I love you but what you are is too vile, too profane for me to ever accept. Says I love you but I cannot accept you, and perhaps that is why what James hears Hennesy tell him is that he is a monster.

[ljesaw]

it’s with depression that i fear i have to say, i think for a long time (too long really), zuko doesn’t reach out to his uncle during his retirement in ba sing se, not even for the much needed guidance he could use, because he considers it part of the exhaustive list of reparations the fire nation (and he himself) owes

[goldentigerfestival]

Using this as an audio reference for the posts I'm making, but to summarize:

Yuri starts out mad.

Yuri tries to calm himself down with a deep breath to ask for details instead of going through it angry.

Flynn doesn't say "like a good knight" in the sense of putting himself down. He simply says "as a knight" (the tl here doesn't use that, but with that included it's basically along the lines of "even though I had doubts, as a knight, I was determined to follow my orders").

Once Yuri has answers he calms down significantly.

Yuri uses " 'ttaku", which is a shortened down version of "mattaku" (Yuri often shortens words and speaks very casually), which in this particular situation basically would mean "geez", or "good grief". In this manner, it's expressive of exasperation/frustration/etc.

Yuri never mentions that "Flynn told him what to do" like the dub does (because in fact Flynn did not ever tell Yuri what to do. He only gave Sodia and his other knights orders. He expressed his own desire to take responsibility, but never told Yuri and his friends what to do).

At this point you can tell the anger has gone out of him and that he's calmed down, now that Flynn is approaching this with admission and responsibility.

Sodia is asking that Flynn returns as soon as possible (I believe this was a general translation error).

Flynn's thank you to Yuri is tonally much more heartfelt.

Yuri's response and gratefulness at Flynn coming back to himself is tonally much more heartfelt, relieved and sincere.

[gravityqueen]

i finished watching jerma play scorn and i can absolutely see why people wouldn't like that game

[prael]

REPLACED

Newjeans Minji x male reader smut

Quickfire challenge 1. Thank you @midnightdancingsol

The prompt: "You know why this happened, @capslocked – yes, you."

Masterlist word count: 3,911 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's all a matter of perspective. From one side of the room, the world is calm.

And the other? Well, that's Minji.

“Want to know the one thing worse than outright rejection?”

Minji has barely walked in the door and she is already shouting off in riddles. She's standing in the doorway, her hair wet from the rain and a little bit tangled just above her shoulders. The water on her overshirt is so deeply sodden into the fabric that it weighs on her. It sticks to her skin that's so clearly visible underneath the LED spotlight above her and her face is twisted in this way of pure irritation that you've rarely seen. It's almost comical.

Or it would be if she wasn't throwing her bag on the floor with an almighty thud and a little yelp from the floorboards below.

“Minji?” is all you say in some hushed tone as you sit on the armchair by the window, hot drink in one hand and your phone in the other as the world passes by in the distance, drowned in downpour.

You look up to watch Minji as she shouts, "How about getting a part, only for it to be taken away? Being promised the world and then having it rug-pulled so you fall flat on your fucking face?!"

Now, Minji never swears in anger. And never means never (again, in anger, specifically). So, it's pretty much a sign of the end of the world when she does. She's kicking off her shoes now, throwing them in the direction of the door and they clatter on the floor like the battering of a drum.

"I—uh."

"You—uh," she mocks, taking a step forward.

"Woah. Minji. What happened?" You ask, setting down the phone on the sill of the window. Minji's stomping her way toward you. Her eyes are wide and filled with something you haven't quite seen before.

"This complete—"there are some sounds from her mouth but they don’t quite resemble words"—shit for a fuck brain!" See, Minji never swears like this, so she's so bad at it that it's laughable.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, it's a great idea; an amazing concept. I'll write you a fantastic character and it will be romantic and hot and everyone will love it," Minji rants in some sarcastic tone while peeling her shirt off her skin and piling it onto the hardwood floor. She stands in only her sports bra with her arms raised and her voice in high pitch, mocking. "Except, you're not good enough. Oh, no. I have to give the part to this other girl. She's prettier and nicer and just better than you!"

"Ouch." You say, watching as she flops onto the couch opposite. The coffee table in between you is a lousy line of defence. Her socks have little splatters of rainwater on them and not too far above that, her skirt sits just above the knee.

"Oh, shut up," she replies.

"Minji." You throw her a look that says 'Stop taking it out on me', which she understands, but it only gets her to fold her arms dramatically with a little huff and a puff from her mouth, followed by a pout. Then you ask her, "What part even was this? TV?"

"Not exactly."

"An ad? Video game? Movie?"

"Fanfiction."

Fanfiction.

"What?" You blink, to which Minji sighs and rolls her eyes, head tilted to the ground.

"Fanfiction."

"A fanfiction?" you question again. It’s not like you misheard, it’s just an utterly strange thing for her to be so pent up on.

"Don't say it like that." She snaps, leaning back into the chair and crossing her legs so one of her little rain-splattered socks is suspended in the air, and she twists and turns her foot impatiently.

"Just trying to figure out why you're so annoyed about fanfiction."

"Because the guy's a complete moron."

"Probably," you say, drawing your mug of coffee close to your lips. You blow on the surface and Minji is silent. You wait, the steam is coming off the top and through it, you watch her as she thinks as her eyebrows furrow together. Minji shifts in her seat again, the annoyance making her chronically uncomfortable. 

"He replaced me!" She shouts, slamming her hands into the arms of the chair and then Minji stands. She takes a few steps and then stops and turns to face you, her eyebrows furrowed and her arms folded, her legs are slightly apart and she's tapping her foot.

"Does he think I'm not pretty enough? Not funny enough? Not sexy enough? Does he think that I wouldn't be good enough at what he wants me to do, hm? So he doesn't want to write me sucking a dick? Well, screw him. Fucking Capslocked."

You're not sure what's going on here, so you're just sitting back and watching her, coffee nestled in your hand and feet propped on the table. She's standing still, waiting for you to say something, anything, and when you don't, she begins to pace.

"Why would he change his mind and just decide that someone else is better than me? What, does he not like my body? Do you not like my body?"

"Your body is fantastic." You say, taking another sip of the coffee.

"Yeah, and don't you forget it." She snaps, stopping again and placing her hands on her hips, either side of that exposed waistline.

"The fuck kind of name is 'Capslocked' anyway?" You mutter, mostly to yourself. Minji doesn't reply, but you see her take a step closer to you.

"And," Minji begins and then pauses, you look up at her and she's just staring. Her cheeks are flushed and her breathing is a little laboured, her chest rising and falling with each breath. There's a pause. Her tongue runs over her lips and you can see her thinking—gears grinding inside her head.

"And?" you ask.

"Shut up," she hisses, kicking your leg so your feet fall from the coffee table and you almost spill the drink down yourself. She places her hands on your knees, bending over to you.

"Minji, my drink—"

"Shh." her hair falls across her face, a black silk drape half-covering the expression beneath. There's an anger under there, something she's trying to push back down, but it's not quite working. Her nails dig into your thighs as she pushes them apart, and the steam rises again above the surface of the liquid in your cup. Minji is too busy running her hand along your crotch.

"What're you—"

"Replaced me," she repeats to herself, a little huff leaving her as she slips down onto her knees. "Fucking replaced me."

"Minji, I'm sure he—"

"I don't care. Shut up. I'm not talking to you." Her hands are shaking, whether from frustration or some other confused feeling that burns under her skin. Probably a mix of many feelings. They're fumbling at the button of your jeans and she's tugging down the zip, her teeth bared. You're watching, and it's as if she is possessed.

Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears, the heat is rising and Minji is pushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm gonna do this so well."

"You always do."

"I said stop talking. So. Stop. Talking," she sounds out each word with authority, her eyes wide and angry. Minji is pushing down the fabric and reaching into the opening in your underwear. She wraps her fingers around you, the cool touch of her skin making you jerk.

"Minji, my drink." Your hand trembles slightly as you try not to spill it. Minji doesn't listen. She pulls you free. A low hum leaves her throat as she licks her lips and leans forward. Her warm breath is ghosting over you, her eyes are closed and there's a little smirk on her lips. Your cock is only halfway to hard and her hand is wantingly trying to coax you into arousal.

It doesn't take much. It never does with Minji.

"Fuck," you groan, the sound of your voice making her look up.

"Don't," she replies, a warning in her eyes. Minji's hand is moving up and down and it's not with that same gentle caress she usually has.

"God, Minji."

"Quiet." She stops, her lips are pouted and her eyes are locked onto you. Her hand is around you, the pressure is gentle, but it's enough to hold you. You're frozen there a moment, her eyes are staring right through you and you're not entirely sure what's going to happen. "Don't say a word, and don’t spill your drink,” she tells you, her free hand rubbing your thigh.

"Minji—"

"Don't." She whispers, her tongue licking over the surface of her lip. Her mouth opens, and she's leaning in. The warmth of her breath is making the muscles of your abdomen twitch and your head spin. Her tongue is the first thing that touches you. She's holding you still, and the head of your cock is resting on her bottom lip, and the feeling of the smooth surface makes you want to thrust forward, but Minji's hand holds you firm.

You bite your lip as Minji's tongue swirls around the tip. It's light and soft and sends electricity through your nerves. You groan ever so slightly and she looks up at you, her eyes narrowed. Your knuckles whiten as you grip the mug, her hair tickling the inside of your thigh as she lowers her head.

Her tongue runs along the underside and pastes your cock with a wetness. The hand around you moves down, and she takes you in. Her mouth is heaven, and her lips the closing gates. You let out a deep sigh, your chest heaving, and Minji's free hand slides up the inside of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin.

Her mouth moves, her lips tightening, and the movement is slow. It's torturous and the sensation of her tongue swirling around the underside of your cock sends you spiralling. Minji knows this, and she's looking up at you. You want to touch her; you want to tangle your fingers into her hair; you want to grab her and pull her against you.

But her eyes speak many words left unspoken. They command your stillness, your silence, and your complete submission.

Minji is working her mouth over you, and her hand is stroking you, up and down and up and down. She's bobbing her head and humming slightly. The melody is almost hypnotic but sounds as if being played by force rather than elegance.

Her scratches are harder than ever and it feels like fire across your chest. Your toes are curling and your head is thrown back. The heat from the mug permeates into your skin as you grip it tighter.

"Ah, Minji." You moan. Minji stops, looking up at you. There's a drop of spit on her lip, and her face is flushed. You're not sure what to do. She's glaring, and she's holding you. Your heart is beating like the hammer of a drum and just above it, her nails grip, threatening to pierce through flesh.

"I said quiet." Words laced with venom. She digs somehow deeper into your chest as she pushes herself to her feet. "Now, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until I scream and you're going to stay quiet."

You're not quite sure what's happening. This is a Minji you have seldom seen before, but it's all happening so fast. She's pulling up her skirt, sliding down her panties, and she's kicking them off so the fabric lands somewhere to the side. She's stepping forward and her knees are touching the armrests. Closer and closer she comes with her eyes fixed on you. 

Your mouth is dry, and her fingers are on your jaw. Her eyes bore holes in your own and she's lowering herself. In a moment of weakness, you throw a glance at your hand, still holding the half-full cup. There's an angry sound from Minji and she snarls, "Focus on me."

Minji swipes her arm at the cup, sending it flying. You watch the arc of the cup and the contents spill across the floor. She's not waiting, she's not looking. There’s not an ounce of concern within her for something so trivial.

You feel the soft wetness of her sex on your tip, she's rubbing herself on the head, the moisture spreading along the underside and Minji's face is screwed up in pleasure and her legs are shaking. She's panting and moaning and she's trying to slide down.

"Minji, are you—"

She thrusts her hand over your mouth with a growl and wild eyes. Her nails are biting into your cheek. "Not. Another. Word."

Minji's other hand is on your shoulder; using it for balance as she tries to move herself. She's lowering herself down and the head of your cock slips into her.

She's so warm. So unbelievably wet. Minji gasps and her back arches and her breasts heave beneath her slightly see-through sports top as she breathes. Her nails dig deeper into your flesh, her lips are parted and her head is thrown back, leaving her throat exposed—a pale expanse of milky perfection.

"Oh, God," she moans, the sound reverberating around the room as she slowly sinks and the walls of her cunt are tight on you. So tight. She trembles as she speaks. "You can't replace this."

Her skirt is around her waist, the material covering the sight of where your bodies meet. But you can feel it; you can feel every little movement she makes.

"I'm so wet."

So fucking wet.

"You're so hard."

Hard. So hard.

"How could anyone replace this?"

How? How could you possibly replace this?

Her cries are shrill, and the heat of her is all around you. It's the only thing you can focus on—her. You try to answer, but your words never make it past the hand on your mouth. She's panting, and her hair is wild, her eyes wide and her mouth open. And she's just riding until she can't no more. Until her muscles grow weak and until her cum leaks between her legs.

"This is what they want, isn't it? They want to fuck me. Riding them. On my knees. They want me bent over the table, or against the wall, or—or—fuck!" Her words are sharp and punctuated with gasps and moans. "Want me to cum—" she trails off into something close to a scream, her body convulsing. Her back is arched and her hips are pressed down onto yours.

She's grinding into you, and you can feel her clench around your cock. Your head is swimming, and your hips are jerking. You can't breathe. Her fingers are loosening their hold on your mouth, but you dare not speak. You're not even sure if you can.

Minji's hand is moving, sliding down your cheek, around your jaw and then gripping on your neck. She admires the red claw marks on your cheek.

"That's right," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They want to fuck me, don't they? They all read and write those filthy little stories and keep dreaming of the impossible. But that fucker won’t write it for them."

You can only sit and take in the way that she is glowing with the sweat, the light catching her skin and highlighting the contours of her face and her collarbone. Her small top clings to her sticky chest and leaves so very little to the imagination. Through it you see the smooth curve of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples and below it the ridges of her toned abdomen that flexes with her slowing grind.

She's climbing off you now and pulling you up from your seat. Her arms are around your neck and her eyes are on yours. You're staring into the depth of her eyes, the black pupils large and the irises a warm, golden honey.

"You're not going to replace me, are you?"

"Never."

"Good."

She leans back a little and pulls your shirt up until it's around your neck. She pulls it to your mouth, feeding the fabric into it before tying some sort of makeshift knot behind your head. "Now. Not another word." Minji pulls off her own top, peeling it away from her sweat-soaked skin.

You watch as she takes a few steps back; her cotton-hugged feet on the ground, her skirt falling back over those long legs and her hands on the hem of the fabric. She's smiling at you, a wide and wicked grin. You watch her and she's watching you. She's pulling it up now and her hands are underneath it. She turns to the window. "Now you're going to pin me against this window and do me, aren't you? Nod if you are."

You nod.

Minji giggles, throwing a look over her shoulder. "I'm the best, aren't I?" 

Minji doesn't wait for you to nod again. She turns away and looks out the window—the city is alive. The rain is falling; the lights are flickering and cars are passing by far below. Minji is leaning her forehead against the glass, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape. Her hair is wild and messy and the light is illuminating her.

You're stepping towards her, one hand on her back, the other sliding over the curve of her ass. You can see her reflection, the smile on her lips. Her hands are on the glass, palms flat, and you're sliding a hand between her legs and over her wet, sensitive skin.

She's shivering and letting out little gasps as your fingers dance along the flesh and your fingertips tease her folds. She's whimpering, and the sound makes your cock twitch.

"Fuck me," Minji whispers, her nails scratching the window. You can't deny a woman so insatiable.

You adjust your jaw; it's so uncomfortably pinned open and you're unable to say a word. You can't tell her just how nice that ass is and how the view inside the window makes a mockery of the one outside. You can't tell her how her hair is so beautiful, or how her eyes are the prettiest you've ever seen. You can't tell her anything.

But you can tell her in another way—through touch. The thought sends a chill down your spine and your teeth sink into the material of the shirt. Minji's whining and you're slipping your fingers between her lips. She's hot, and the heat is dripping from her. It's on your fingers and it's soaking into your palm.

Minji is moving her hips, trying to find purchase on your fingers, the tip of one brushing her clit. She gasps and throws her head back. You're sliding a finger inside her, the movement easy and Minji is bucking her hips, her body trying to pull you further and deeper.

"Fuck me like I'm the only woman in the world. Like you'll die if you don't fuck me. Like there's no one else in the world who can make you feel like I do."

You're pushing her against the window, the foggy condensation from her breath and the heat of her body mar the surface. Minji is laughing—the hot and breathy kind of laugh—as you press her into the glass.

"That's it. Come on. Fuck me now,” she orders and just like that, you're doing it. She's moaning and her back arches. You're inside her and the tightness is enough to make you come undone. You're pressing her harder and harder against the window.

"That's it. Oh, yes. Harder. That's what they all want."

You're slamming into her, and she's taking it. You're not holding back. Minji is moaning and her fingers are curling, nails raking. Her voice is echoing in the room and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"They all want me like this. Bent over and begging. Oh, fuck yes."

"They can't have you." You growl through the shirt, your teeth tearing into the fabric.

"No." Minji screams, "They can't have me. They can't touch me. He can't touch me. Won't even write about me. If only he could see me now. I bet he would change his mind. Wouldn't you?"

You fuck her until the muscles in the back of your legs stiffen. You fuck her until she's screaming. You fuck her until the glass is a mess of fingerprints, sweat, and spit. Until the golden skin of her back glows with moisture.

You fuck her until your vision starts to fade and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that it’s unbearable. You fuck her until you can't anymore.

And she's still going, her screams echoing and her body writhing against yours, and it's all too much. You need to release, and it needs to be inside Minji.

You're coming undone and your hips jerk and stutter and Minji's body is convulsing. Your cum is spilling into her, and she's cumming again and she's screaming, the sound so shrill that it hurts. You're groaning and she's shaking, the walls of her cunt clenching and drawing your orgasm out until you can't think and you can't breathe and everything is both too much and not enough.

Leaning forward so her back is flush with your chest, and she is truly pinned. Your breathing is hard, and hers is heavy and the two of you stay there for a while, frozen in ecstasy. The room absorbs the sound of your combined pants, the rain and the distant hum of the city.

Minji is the first to move, twisting herself free from the weight of your body against her. Your cock slides out. The feeling of the cool air and the absence of her body sends a shiver through you. You stumble, the shirt falling from your mouth and your vision is blurry.

Minji is laughing and you're looking at her as she is plucking away the strands of hair which stick to her face. And when she finishes, Minji steps forward and slaps you. "I told you not to make a mess."

"Minji, you made the mess."

"Shut up."

"But I—"

She grabs you by the neck and kisses you. Her lips are hot and the kiss is hungry and messy. Her tongue is in your mouth and her hands are all over you. The kiss is hard and deep and it's leaving you breathless.

She's pulling you to the ground, her legs wrapping around you and your hand is on her thigh. The heat of her core is against you and her nails are digging into your back. She's biting your lip, and she's pushing you over onto your back.

She's straddling you. Her hands are on your chest, her palms pressing down.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" you pant. Minji's looking at you with a disregard for your words.

Your cock is so tender under her rough motions, and there’s no stopping your whimper. Minji is smiling, and the sight is so sweet. "Are you complaining?"

"No," you manage to say, as a shiver runs down your spine as she lowers herself and brushes her lips against your ear.

Her tongue is running over your earlobe and she's nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Her hands are on your shoulders and her legs are squeezing your waist. "Good boy. We're not done. Not even close."

[blaire-apricity]

Hii, can i request the LADs boys reacting to mc avoiding them after they kissed for the first time?? Thank youu

First Kiss

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

The first kiss with Xavier was featherlight and gentle, imbued with a tenderness that was unmistakable. You could see through his body language how his tensed shoulders eased the moment your lips touched; his hand intertwined with yours while the other cupped your cheek with delicate care. He was cautious, ensuring he didn’t surprise you or cause any discomfort.

You melted into the kiss, feeling the warmth and sincerity behind it. As he pulled away, those tender eyes gazed at you with a softness that made your heart flutter, the corner of his lips curving into a small, endearing smile. Overwhelmed by the intimacy, you felt a rush of embarrassment and flusteredness, instinctively turning away to excuse yourself. Your heart raced wildly, threatening to burst from your chest.

Xavier stood there, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He processed the situation, momentarily worrying that he had done something wrong to provoke such a reaction, unaware that your response was born from sheer flustered-ness.

You didn’t avoid him outright, but whenever you spoke, you averted your gaze, the memory of his lips lingering each time you met his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice tinged with guilt. He felt he might have made you uncomfortable, and though he cherished that first kiss, he was ready to restrain himself if it meant ensuring your comfort. His expression was akin to a bunny with drooping ears, vulnerable and earnest.

Xavier’s tendency to blame himself led to numerous apologies, but as you explained your side, his eyes gradually lit up. Hearing you admit that it was embarrassment and not discomfort that fueled your reaction, his imaginary bunny ears perked up.

He didn’t mind your initial avoidance, and knowing your true feelings now, a genuine smile spread across his face. The fact that he could elicit such a flustered reaction from you made him quietly elated.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Zayne’s kiss was surprisingly intense, a stark contrast to his usual cold exterior. Many assumed his gestures would be distant and minimal, but his kiss was the complete opposite. His hand gently supported the back of your head while the other cupped your cheek, his lips pressing against yours with a passion that was almost overwhelming. His kiss was full of emotion, conveying a depth of feeling that his reserved demeanor often hid.

You were utterly flustered, even more so when he pulled away and his eyes softened, examining your dazed expression. Everything went blank in your mind, the intensity of your emotions making it hard to process anything.

For hours, you were lost in that moment. Even when he tried to speak to you, waving his hand, you barely responded, leaving him to think you were deliberately ignoring him.

“Y/n, are you angry?” he asked, his direct gaze snapping you out of your trance momentarily.

“W-What? N-No,” you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts. He remained silent, staring at you with an expectant look, prompting you to confess your feelings.

You explained that it was a pleasant but overwhelming feeling, not something you could immediately process. His expression softened, and you swore you saw the corner of his lips curve into a rare, fond smile, making you blush even more.

“Next time,” he began, “let me know.” His tone was calm, but his words carried a gentle insistence. He wanted you to communicate better for the sake of both of you.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

Despite his bratty nature, Rafayel’s kiss was calculated and surprisingly tender. It was both of your first kiss, yet it felt like he instinctively knew what to do. You expected his gestures to be limited to holding hands, but his kiss was a revelation. He seemed to hold himself back, his longing and devotion palpable in the way he kissed you. It felt like he was pouring his heart into that kiss, desperate yet controlled, as if he was trying not to overwhelm you.

The rush of emotions took you by surprise. Your wide eyes, cheeks tinged with a pink blush, and racing heart betrayed your astonishment. As he pulled back, Rafayel scanned your expression, frowning slightly, unsure of your reaction.

“…What?” he asked, his confusion evident.

“…I…” You trailed off, struggling to form coherent words. Rafayel’s brows knitted in curiosity and confusion.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like that,” he said, his signature annoyed expression appearing as he crossed his arms.

“What? No! I did!” you quickly reassured him, knowing how dramatic Rafayel could be.

He turned away with a huff, unconvinced by your words. In the end, it was you who needed to explain your reaction. Before you could avoid him, Rafayel would confront you, demanding clarity.

Despite his bratty demeanor, which you found endearing, Rafayel took full advantage of your reactions, using them to his benefit. His charm lay in his ability to be both frustrating and utterly captivating.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

Sharing your first kiss with Sylus was an intense, straightforward gesture. Once he had your consent, he held nothing back. He intertwined his fingers with yours, making you feel his dominance as he crashed his lips against yours. His kiss was deep and demanding, his grip on your hand tightening as he leaned in further. It was rough and aggressive, leaving you breathless and taken aback.

When he finally pulled away, his grip on you loosened slightly. You excused yourself quickly, feeling the embarrassment and the pounding of your heart. The encounter left you flustered and speechless.

For hours, you avoided him, feeling awkward whenever you crossed paths in the manor. You gave him no explanation, leaving him puzzled and annoyed.

Eventually, he cornered you, pulling you close so your chest pressed against his. His towering figure and intense gaze made you even more flustered.

“I don’t appreciate being ignored, sweetie,” he said, his tone slightly annoyed. His hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “If you didn’t like it, you can simply tell me.”

The close proximity made you stammer, but you managed to explain your reaction despite your stuttering. His frown slowly eased, replaced by a smirk as he realized the effect his kiss had on you.

“I should increase that effect then,” he concluded, his gaze narrowing in amusement.

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡! 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛~ 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒, 𝐼 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡!

[magioftheseas]

Mu claims to have never bullied anyone and I don’t think she’s lying. I think she only thinks of bullying as physical and doesn’t see verbal/emotional bullying as a type of bullying. “Everyone was doing it” and all, so when her “friends” eventually turned on her it probably felt especially unfair.

Probably! That said, she DOES still seem guilt-ridden about what she did despite being voted innocent. It's gonna be fun to see that bubble burst so fucking hard in the third trial.

[baelabong]

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴘᴛ.2

(ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq; yes // wd: 5.5k words

Pairing: Knight!G!P!Karina x Princess!fem reader

note/warning: pt2 of hidden. ik that the anon requested something slightly differetn but i only saw the idea until after i wrote it BAHHHAHA. luckily it is slightly similar .... just a little yk. anyways. sex, g!p rina, creampie

Pt.1

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

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat at Mark’s sudden proposal. The grand ballroom seems to quiet, as if the entire kingdom is waiting for her response. Mark’s eyes are filled with a mixture of hope and determination, but all Y/N can think about is Karina—her secret love, standing just out of sight.

Time seems to slow as Y/N processes the weight of the proposal. The alliance with Mark’s family would indeed be powerful, and it would secure her kingdom’s future. But at what cost? Her heart pounds as she contemplates the life she’d be forced to live—a life without Karina, where duty and appearances would take precedence over her own happiness.

Mark, sensing her hesitation, gently takes her hand. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I know this is sudden, but I believe we could be strong together. You and I could bring prosperity and peace to our kingdoms. Please, consider it.”

Y/N forces a smile, her mind racing for a response. She glances towards the shadows, where she knows Karina is watching. The thought of a life without her feels unbearable, yet she’s bound by duty and the expectations placed upon her. She can’t openly refuse Mark without risking scandal and unrest.

Finally, she speaks, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Your Grace, this is a generous offer, and I am deeply honored by your proposal. But this is a significant decision, one that affects not just us, but our kingdoms. I must ask for time to consider it.”

Mark’s expression flickers with disappointment, but he quickly masks it with a gracious smile. “Of course, Princess. Take all the time you need. I’ll await your decision with hope.”

With a polite bow, Mark steps back, allowing Y/N a moment to breathe. She nods in response, her heart still racing as she watches him walk away. The court begins to buzz with whispers, but Y/N pays them no mind. All she can think about is getting to Karina.

As soon as she’s able, Y/N excuses herself from the ballroom. She quickly makes her way to the secluded corridor where she knows Karina is waiting. When she sees her knight, standing with an unreadable expression, the floodgates of her emotions break open.

“Karina…” Y/N begins, her voice trembling. “He proposed. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t… I couldn’t refuse him outright.”

Karina’s eyes darken, a mixture of pain and understanding evident in her gaze. She steps closer, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “I know,” she says softly, her voice strained. “You’re doing what you have to for your kingdom. But what about us, Y/N? Where do we stand?”

Y/N’s heart aches at the uncertainty in Karina’s voice. “I don’t know,” she admits, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t imagine a life without you, but if I accept his proposal, I’d be bound to him. I’d lose you.”

Karina pulls Y/N into a tight embrace, her voice filled with quiet desperation. “Then don’t accept it. We can find a way, Y/N. We can leave—escape this life and start anew. I can’t stand the thought of losing you to him.”

Y/N closes her eyes, resting her head against Karina’s shoulder as she tries to calm the storm inside her. The weight of duty and love pulls her in opposite directions, and she feels utterly torn. But one thing is clear: she can’t make this decision alone.

“Give me time,” Y/N whispers, her voice breaking. “I need to think. I need to figure out what to do.”

Karina nods, though the pain in her eyes remains. “I’ll wait for you, Y/N. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here.”

With that, they share a tender, lingering kiss, a reminder of the love they share and the difficult choices ahead. Y/N knows that whatever path she choose, it will change her life forever—and she can only hope she has the strength to make the right one.

—------

The next morning, Y/N wakes up to the sound of frantic knocking on her chamber door. Her heart skips a beat as she sits up, feeling the weight of the previous night’s turmoil still heavy on her shoulders. But as she sees the pale, trembling face of her lady-in-waiting as she enters, a deep dread settles in her chest.

“Your Highness,” the lady stammers, “it’s your father… The king… He’s—he’s gone.”

Y/N’s breath catches, and she feels a cold wave of shock wash over her. “What do you mean?” she whispers, already fearing the answer.

“They found him in his chambers this morning,” the lady-in-waiting explains, her voice thick with tears. “The royal physician says… he was poisoned.”

The words hit Y/N like a physical blow, and she staggers back, feeling as if the ground has been ripped out from beneath her. “No,” she gasps, her mind reeling. “That can’t be… Who would do such a thing?”

Before the lady can respond, Y/N rushes out of her chambers, her heart pounding in her ears. She navigates the winding corridors, her mind racing with horror and confusion, until she finds herself at the one place she feels she might find answers: Karina’s quarters.

She bursts through the door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Karina stands by the window, her back to Y/N, seemingly calm despite the chaos erupting in the palace.

“Karina,” Y/N calls out, her voice breaking. “Tell me you know nothing of this… Tell me you had nothing to do with my father’s death!”

Slowly, Karina turns to face her, her expression unreadable. But as she takes a step closer to Y/N, something cold and resolute flickers in her eyes.

“I did this all for you, my queen,” Karina says, her voice steady but laced with a dark intensity. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect you, to free you from the chains that bind you. He was never going to let you be with me—he would have forced you to marry Mark, to fulfill some duty you never asked for.”

Y/N stares at Karina in disbelief, her heart breaking all over again. “You… you poisoned him?” she whispers, the words barely making it past her lips. “You killed my father?”

Karina steps closer, reaching out to Y/N, but she recoils, feeling a wave of nausea rise within her. “He was going to take you away from me, Y/N,” Karina says, her voice now tinged with desperation. “I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose you.”

Y/N feels like she’s drowning, caught between the love she feels for Karina and the horror of what she’s done. “You think this is what I wanted?” she cries, tears streaming down her face. “I never wanted this, Karina! How could you do something so monstrous and think it would make things better?”

Karina’s face crumples in pain, but she doesn’t back down. “I did it for us,” she insists. “For you. Now you’re free, Y/N. You don’t have to marry Mark, or anyone else. You can be with me, the way we’ve always wanted.”

But Y/N shakes her head, stepping back toward the door. “I can’t… I can’t even look at you right now,” she chokes out. “You took away my father, my family—everything I’ve ever known. How am I supposed to live with that?”

Karina’s eyes fill with tears as she watches Y/N retreat. “Y/N, please… I love you. I did this because I love you.”

Y/N hesitates at the door, her heart shattered into a million pieces. “Love?” she whispers bitterly. “This isn’t love, Karina. This is something else entirely.”

Y/N’s world felt like it was crumbling beneath her feet. The shock of Karina’s confession, the horror of what she had done—it was all too much. She turns to leave, needing to escape, needing to think. But before she can take another step, Karina’s voice, laced with desperation, pierces through her like a knife.

“Y/N, wait!” Karina’s voice cracks, her eyes wide with frantic desperation as she rushes toward Y/N, grabbing her arm. “Please, you have to understand—I did this for you! Everything I’ve done, it was all for you!”

Y/N tries to pull away, shaking her head, her thoughts a chaotic mess. “Karina… you killed my father,” she whispers, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “How could you think this was for me? How could you—”

Before she can finish, Karina’s face twists with a wild mix of hurt, frustration, and something darker. In a surge of raw emotion, she pounces on Y/N, pushing her back against the nearest wall, pinning her there with a force that makes Y/N’s breath hitch. 

“This is what you wanted!” Karina hisses through gritted teeth, her body pressing into Y/N’s, her hands gripping Y/N’s wrists tightly. “You said you didn’t want to marry Mark, you said you didn’t want to be queen—was that all a lie? Why can’t you just listen to me?”

Y/N’s mind is spinning, her heart racing as Karina’s words and touch overwhelm her senses. She feels trapped, not just by Karina’s physical hold, but by the intensity of the emotions crashing over her. “Karina, please, I—”

But Karina doesn’t let her finish. “Am I not enough for you, Y/N?” Karina’s voice is low and rough, trembling with barely contained fury. “Is that it? Do you want Mark instead? Is that what you want?” Her breath is hot against Y/N’s skin, and beads of sweat drip down Karina’s forehead, her eyes blazing with a desperate need for validation.

Y/N’s head feels foggy, the world spinning around her as Karina’s words sink in, tangling with her own confused emotions. Karina’s grip, her proximity, the raw intensity in her voice—it all leaves Y/N feeling lost, like she’s drowning in Karina’s desperation. “I… I don’t know, I…”

But Karina’s hold tightens, her nails digging into Y/N’s wrists as she pushes closer, her lips inches from Y/N’s ear. “If you wanted to marry Mark, just say it,” Karina growls, her voice harsh and desperate. “Tell me that everything we’ve had together meant nothing, that you’d throw it all away for him. Is that what you want, Y/N? Is it?”

Y/N’s resolve shatters under the weight of Karina’s onslaught, her mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of helplessness. “No, no… Karina, I—” But the words that escape her lips are incoherent, lost in the storm of emotions tearing through her. She feels herself slipping, her mind giving way to the intensity of the moment, the lines between right and wrong blurring until all she can do is babble out whatever words come to her lips, desperate to calm Karina, to stop the spiraling chaos.

“I… I don’t want Mark, Karina… I don’t know… I just… I just want you…” The words spill out, barely making sense, driven by her overwhelming need to ease Karina’s pain, to make everything stop, even if just for a moment.

Karina’s grip softens slightly, a twisted sense of triumph flashing in her eyes as she hears Y/N’s words. “That’s right… It’s just us, Y/N… It’s always been just us,” she murmurs, her tone taking on a dangerous edge of satisfaction as she leans in closer, claiming Y/N in that moment, her breath hot against Y/N’s neck.

Y/N’s body reacts on instinct, her mind too lost in the whirlwind of emotions to resist, to think clearly. She clings to Karina, her words reduced to soft, incoherent murmurs, nodding weakly, her thoughts a chaotic mess of confusion, fear, and a deep, aching need for everything to be okay. But nothing is okay, and deep down, she knows it—she’s just too lost in Karina’s intensity to remember that right now.

Karina’s lips curl into a small, twisted smile as she presses herself against Y/N, her grip firm but no longer painful. “See?” she whispers, her voice almost soothing now, though it’s laced with a possessive edge. “This is what you wanted all along… just us… together…”

Y/N’s head lolls to the side, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she clings to Karina, too overwhelmed, too lost to protest anymore. All she can do is nod and whisper, “Just us… just us…” as the room spins around her, and everything fades into the background, leaving only Karina and the suffocating weight of their twisted connection.

———-

The grand hall was filled with the muted murmur of anticipation as the nobles and courtiers gathered, their eyes fixed on the ornate throne that awaited its new ruler. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the stone floor, but the room’s beauty was marred by an undercurrent of unease. Whispers about the sudden death of the former king, the strange circumstances surrounding it, and the swift rise of the new queen were still fresh in everyone’s minds.

Y/N stood at the foot of the throne, her heart pounding in her chest. She was draped in a gown of deep crimson, the color of power and blood, with a heavy golden crown resting atop her head. It was a crown that felt too heavy, too large for her, yet she couldn’t afford to falter now. Not with everything that had happened, not with Karina at her side, her ever-watchful gaze fixed on Y/N, a silent reminder of everything they had sacrificed to reach this moment.

The royal advisor stepped forward, holding the ancient scepter of the kingdom, his expression neutral as he presented it to Y/N. “Do you, Y/N, swear to rule this kingdom with wisdom, justice, and mercy?” His voice echoed in the vast hall, the words carrying the weight of centuries of tradition.

Y/N’s throat was dry, but she managed a nod, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside her. “I swear it.”

The advisor inclined his head and placed the scepter in Y/N’s outstretched hand. The touch of the cold metal sent a shiver down her spine, but she gripped it tightly, willing herself to appear strong, composed, every inch the queen she was now expected to be.

“Then by the power vested in me,” the advisor continued, “I proclaim you, Y/N, Queen of this realm.”

A ripple of applause spread through the room, polite and restrained, but Y/N could sense the tension beneath it. She forced a smile as she ascended the steps to the throne, each movement measured and deliberate. As she reached the top, she hesitated for the briefest of moments before turning to sit upon the throne, the weight of the crown and scepter grounding her in the reality of her new position.

Beside her, Karina stood tall, dressed in regal attire that matched Y/N’s own, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous pride. As Y/N sat, Karina stepped forward, her hand lightly brushing against Y/N’s shoulder, a subtle but possessive gesture that sent a clear message to all who were watching: this was not just Y/N’s ascension to power; it was theirs.

The advisor, his expression betraying nothing, addressed the room once more. “And as tradition dictates, the queen’s chosen consort shall be named as reigning king, to rule beside her as her equal and protector.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Karina stepped forward to accept the crown of the reigning king. The whispers in the hall grew louder, a mix of surprise, disapproval, and grudging acceptance rippling through the gathered nobles. Karina’s rise had been swift and unexpected, but none could deny the bond between her and Y/N, or the power she now wielded at Y/N’s side.

The crown was placed upon Karina’s head, and she turned to face Y/N, her expression one of fierce, unyielding loyalty. Y/N met her gaze, the weight of the moment pressing down on her, but there was no turning back now. This was the path they had chosen, for better or for worse.

With Karina by her side, Y/N felt a strange mix of fear and reassurance. She knew that Karina’s ambition had no bounds, that her love was as dangerous as it was deep. But she also knew that Karina would protect her, would do anything to keep her on the throne—even if it meant sacrificing everything and everyone else.

As they stood before the gathered court, the new rulers of the realm, Y/N felt Karina’s hand slip into hers, the touch warm and possessive. “This is our moment, my queen,” Karina whispered, her voice low and intense, meant only for Y/N. “No one can stand against us now.”

Y/N swallowed hard, nodding slightly, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of her mind. She was a queen now, and Karina was her king. They were bound together, for better or for worse, and the kingdom would have to follow where they led.

The court erupted in a final round of applause, louder this time, though still tinged with uncertainty. Y/N raised her head, looking out over the sea of faces, forcing herself to wear the mask of confidence and authority that was now expected of her.

But as the cheers filled the hall, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she had crossed a line she could never return from—that the price of power, of Karina’s love, was far higher than she had ever imagined.

And yet, with Karina by her side, her hand still gripping hers tightly, Y/N knew she had no choice but to continue down the path they had forged together. For better or for worse, they were now the rulers of this kingdom, and nothing would ever be the same again.

———-

The kingdom had been thrown into the chaos of war, the once peaceful lands now ravaged by the clashing forces of Y/N’s and Mark’s armies. The conflict had been inevitable, with tensions rising ever since Y/N had ascended the throne and Karina had claimed her place as reigning king. Mark, unable to accept Y/N’s swift rise to power and her sudden engagement to Karina, had rallied his forces, leading to a brutal confrontation that left the kingdom teetering on the edge of destruction.

The news of Karina’s injury reached Y/N like a bolt of lightning, striking her to her core. She had never imagined that the war would come so close to taking away the one person she had come to rely on so completely. As the battle raged on, Karina had been at the forefront, leading the charge with fierce determination, but the cost had been steep.

When Karina finally returned to the castle, bloodied and battered, Y/N’s heart clenched with fear and anger. She rushed to Karina’s side, her emotions a whirlwind as she scolded her for putting herself in such danger.

“What were you thinking, Karina?” Y/N’s voice trembled as she helped Karina into their chambers, her hands shaking as she began to treat the deep gashes and bruises that marred Karina’s body. “You could have been killed! I can’t lose you, too.”

Karina winced as Y/N’s fingers brushed over a particularly nasty wound on her side, but her gaze remained steady, locked onto Y/N’s. “I had to protect you, my queen. I promised I would always keep you safe.”

“But at what cost?” Y/N snapped, her frustration boiling over as she dabbed at the wound with a cloth. “You’re not invincible, Karina. I need you—alive.”

Karina’s lips quirked into a half-smile, despite the pain. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Y/N huffed, biting back a retort as she continued to clean and bandage Karina’s wounds. Her hands moved with practiced precision, but her mind was a storm of worry and fear. The thought of losing Karina, of being alone in this ruthless world, was too much to bear.

As Y/N worked, Karina’s gaze never left her. She could see the fear in Y/N’s eyes, the vulnerability that she rarely allowed herself to show. It tugged at something deep within Karina, a protective instinct that she couldn’t ignore.

“Y/N,” Karina said softly, her voice cutting through the tense silence. “Come here.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Karina’s. She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, her breath hitching as Karina’s strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her onto her lap. The sudden closeness made Y/N’s heart race, her body pressing against Karina’s bare skin, the warmth of her lover’s body seeping into her own.

“I’ll never lose you,” Karina murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “Not like you lost your father. I’ll protect you with everything I have, even if it costs me my life.”

Y/N’s heart ached at the sincerity in Karina’s voice, but before she could respond, she felt a sudden shift beneath her. Karina’s length hardened against her thigh, the pressure sending a jolt of heat through Y/N’s body.

Both of them moaned at the same time, the tension between them crackling like electricity. Y/N’s breath quickened, her body reacting instinctively to the sensation. Without thinking, she reached down, fumbling with the ties of her gown, her hands trembling with urgency.

Karina watched her, her eyes darkening with desire as Y/N stripped off her clothes, leaving herself bare to Karina’s gaze. Y/N’s skin flushed with a mix of embarrassment and need, but she couldn’t stop herself, the intense connection between them driving her actions.

As soon as Y/N was fully undressed, she positioned herself over Karina, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The air between them was thick with tension, an electric charge that had been simmering for far too long. Karina’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips eagerly, pulling her down onto her hardened, thick length. The moment their bodies connected, both of them cried out, the sudden pressure sending shockwaves of pleasure through them.

But Y/N’s emotions were far from just pleasure. Beneath the surface, a storm of anger and frustration raged, fueled by Karina’s reckless actions. Without any warning, Y/N began to move, riding Karina with a brutal, punishing rhythm. Each thrust was hard and purposeful, as if Y/N was trying to imprint her fury onto Karina’s very soul.

“You reckless, stubborn fool,” Y/N spat, her hand shooting out to grip Karina’s neck. Her fingers tightened around Karina’s throat just enough to make her gasp, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and arousal. “Do you have any idea how close you came to getting yourself killed?”

Karina’s response was a strangled moan, her body arching beneath Y/N’s relentless pace. She tried to speak, but Y/N wasn’t slowing down, each thrust deeper and more forceful than the last. “I-I’m sorry… I just… ahhh, Y/N…!”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Y/N growled, leaning in closer, her breath hot against Karina’s ear as she ground down harder, her body clenching around Karina with every downward thrust. “You almost left me alone, Karina. You think you can just risk your life like that? You think I’d just let you go?”

Karina’s hands clutched desperately at Y/N’s hips, trying and failing to match the brutal pace. Her voice was a desperate, breathy whine as she clung to Y/N, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “I-I’ll never do it again… please, Y/N… you’re so… so good… I’m yours, only yours…”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and possessive need. She shifted her angle, grinding down with even more force, and Karina’s loud cry filled the room. “You like how good I’m riding you?” Y/N hissed, her voice laced with dominance as she continued to move with relentless intensity. “You like feeling me take you like this?”

Karina’s response was an incoherent moan, her body trembling beneath Y/N’s as the pleasure mounted to an unbearable peak. She tried to throw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her, but Y/N’s hand shot up, tangling in her hair, yanking her head forward until their eyes locked.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” Y/N demanded, her voice rough, her gaze burning into Karina’s. “If you die, you never get this again. You’ll never feel me like this, never have me like this.”

Karina’s eyes widened, her breath hitching at the raw, possessive intensity in Y/N’s voice. The force of Y/N’s words, coupled with the unyielding rhythm of her movements, sent Karina spiraling into a state of desperate need. Her body tightened around Y/N’s thick, girthy length, the heat between them building to an unbearable peak.

“Y/N… I-I can’t… please…!” Karina’s voice was high-pitched, almost frantic, as she teetered on the edge. Her body was on fire, the pleasure blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy. “Please… please… please let me come in you… I need you…”

Y/N’s grip on Karina’s hair tightened, forcing her to maintain eye contact. “Promise me,” Y/N snarled, her hips slamming down with brutal force, each thrust sending shockwaves through Karina’s body. “Promise me you’ll never be so reckless again. You belong to me, Karina. No one else gets to have you.”

“I promise! I promise!” Karina’s voice was breathless, her words tumbling out in a desperate plea. “I’m yours, Y/N… only yours… I’ll never do it again… please…!”

Y/N’s eyes blazed as she leaned in even closer, her breath hot against Karina’s lips. “You promised me babies,” she hissed, her tone possessive and filled with raw emotion. “You can’t give them to me if you die, you dumbass. I’m your queen, Karina. You live for me, understand?”

Karina’s heart raced, her eyes wide with a mix of arousal and desperation. “I-I understand… Y/N, I’ll do anything… please… fill me up so good… I need you…”

With one final, punishing thrust, Y/N sent them both over the edge. Karina’s orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cried out, her release crashing over her with a force that left her breathless. Her thick, girthy length throbbed inside Y/N, pumping so much that it spilled out, warm and slick, even as Y/N’s own climax ripped through her with such intensity that she almost couldn’t breathe, her body shaking as she milked every last drop of pleasure from their connection.

Even as they came down from their high, Y/N didn’t let go of Karina’s hair, her eyes still locked on hers, a silent reminder of the promise she had extracted. Y/N leaned back slightly, looking down at the mess between them, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “Oops,” she murmured, her tone teasing as she took her finger and scooped up some of the cum that had spilled out of her. “I guess you’ll have to fill me up again.”

Before Karina could respond, Y/N brought her finger to Karina’s lips, watching with satisfaction as Karina’s eyes fluttered shut, her tongue darting out to taste the mixture of their fluids. The sight only fueled the fire inside Karina, a growl rumbling in her chest as she grabbed Y/N and flipped her onto the bed.

Without wasting a second, Karina positioned herself over Y/N, her eyes dark with hunger and need. “You want me to fill you up again?” she asked, her voice low and filled with a dangerous edge. “Then you’re going to take every last drop.”

With that, Karina positioned herself over Y/N once again, her eyes burning with a fierce, possessive heat. She plunged back into Y/N with a renewed vigor, her thrusts hard and deep, each movement a testament to her unyielding desire. The room was filled with their passionate cries and the sounds of their bodies colliding, a testament to the intense, unbreakable bond that had been forged between them.

And with that, Karina thrust back into Y/N with renewed intensity, her pace rough and unyielding, determined to claim her all over again. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding, moans and cries echoing as they both lost themselves in the raw, primal connection between them. Karina’s movements were driven by a wild need, her body demanding more, giving more, as she pushed them both to the brink again and again, determined to make Y/N hers completely, to leave no doubt who she belonged to.

Y/N’s moans were high and breathless, punctuated by gasps and whimpers as Karina’s powerful thrusts drove her to the edge once more. Each movement was a blend of fierce passion and raw, unrestrained energy. “Karina… yes… just like that,” Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and desperation. “You’re mine, remember? Don’t you dare hold back.”

Karina’s face was flushed, her eyes glazed with a primal hunger as she looked down at Y/N. “I’m yours,” she growled, her voice ragged. “I’m yours, Y/N. I’ll always be yours. I’ll give you everything, just… just keep taking it.”

Y/N’s fingers dug into Karina’s shoulders as she tried to steady herself, her body moving in sync with Karina’s relentless thrusts. “If you really mean that,” she panted, “then you’ll show me, won’t you? Fill me up completely. Show me how much you want me.”

Karina’s breath hitched as she accelerated her pace, the intensity of her movements making her entire body tremble. “I want you so much,” Karina moaned, her voice cracking with the effort. “I need you. I need to feel you, to make you mine. I want to hear you scream my name.”

Y/N’s body tensed with each powerful thrust, the pleasure coursing through her as Karina took her with a voracious hunger. “That’s it,” Y/N encouraged, her voice a mixture of command and supplication. “Don’t stop. Make me yours again and again. Let everyone know who I belong to.”

Karina’s pace became even more frenzied, her hands gripping Y/N’s hips with a force that bordered on desperate. “I’m going to make you come so hard,” Karina growled, her voice barely more than a whisper as she pressed her forehead against Y/N’s. “You’ll be filled with me, every inch. I’m going to make sure you’re completely mine.”

The heat between them was palpable, their bodies slick with sweat as Karina’s thrusts grew even more erratic, driven by an all-consuming need. Y/N’s cries grew louder, more urgent, each sound a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her.

“I’m so close,” Y/N gasped, her eyes locking onto Karina’s with a fierce intensity. “I need to come… I need you to make me come again. Don’t stop until you’ve filled me up.”

Karina’s eyes widened with a mixture of determination and lust, her entire being focused on bringing Y/N to the brink once more. “I won’t stop,” Karina promised, her voice raw with emotion. “I’ll give you everything, every last drop. I need to see you fall apart for me.”

With a final, forceful thrust, Karina’s climax hit her like a tidal wave. She gasped and cried out, her body convulsing as her release spilled over Y/N, warm and thick. The sensation was so intense that it spilled out of Y/N, dripping down between them, mixing with their sweat and desire.

Y/N’s body tensed and shuddered as she reached her peak, her cries merging with Karina’s as they both rode the waves of their mutual ecstasy. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, their bodies entangled in a primal dance of need and fulfillment.

—--------

The aftermath of the battle left the kingdom in shambles, but amid the chaos and bloodshed, Y/N and Karina emerged as the rulers of a fractured realm. The grandeur of their coronation was shadowed by the scars they bore from their tumultuous path to power. As they stood side by side in the grand hall, the atmosphere was a mixture of reluctant respect and underlying tension from the nobility.

Years had passed since that fateful day when Y/N had ascended the throne and Karina had become her consort. The kingdom had been rebuilt, and Y/N and Karina had forged a new legacy—one marked by both triumphs and sacrifices. Their love had weathered the storm of political intrigue and personal tragedy, evolving into a bond that was both powerful and tumultuous.

Now, in the serene setting of their private garden, Y/N and Karina stood with their two children. The royal family was a portrait of unity and strength. Their son, a lively boy with a crown of tousled hair, played at their feet, while their daughter, a serene and observant child, clung to Y/N's hand.

Y/N looked over at Karina, her gaze softening as she watched her partner interact with their children. The intense, often turbulent passion that had defined their relationship had transformed into a deep, abiding love, tempered by the challenges they had faced together. The shadows of their past were still present, but they were now overshadowed by the light of their family and their shared future.

As Y/N knelt beside their children, her heart swelled with pride and contentment. Karina joined her, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders, pulling her close. The warmth of their embrace spoke volumes about the journey they had traveled together and the strength of their bond.

Their children, innocent and unaware of the complexities of their parents' rise to power, played happily in the garden, their laughter a symbol of hope and renewal. Y/N and Karina exchanged a look of quiet understanding, knowing that despite everything, they had built something beautiful and lasting.

“Look at them,” Karina said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “They’re everything we fought for.”

Y/N nodded, a smile touching her lips. “Yes, they are. And they’ll be our legacy, a reminder of everything we’ve overcome.”

Together, they watched their children play, their hands intertwined as they stood side by side. The garden was a place of peace and reflection, a haven where they could momentarily forget the struggles and focus on the life they had built together.

As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the garden, Y/N and Karina knew that their path had been fraught with trials, but it had led them to a place where they could finally find solace. Their love, once fierce and consuming, had matured into a steady, enduring force that would guide them through whatever lay ahead.

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

[allfearstofallto]

Braiding Diluc's Hair - Drabble

You braid Diluc's hair for him once. The man who's usually so punctual has woken up late, stumbling about in a hurry as he tries to do all of his morning tasks. You watch as he scurries about, lounging in your day chair with a book in your hand, you watch as his dark red locks cascade down his face and body, and how he awkwardly has to push them to the sides to try and get anything done in the hectic bustle of the Dawn Winery’s morning routine.

Pity and Diluc are two words that don't go hand in hand for you. Quite honestly, you've felt little for the man since he decided that he wished to steal you away and lock you up, rather than earning your love the proper way. Yet, watching him struggle to do the most basic of tasks, because of his untied hair was almost similar to watching a dog run into walls because its fur has grown over its eyes. It was almost cute in a silly way.

You raised your hand up to Diluc, who could see you through the mirror as he tried to tame his mane, which was more rowdy today than usual. He looked back at you, his smile sheepish and weak. Seldom did you ever call for him, even outright stating once that you'd rather he not speak to you at all.

“Yes, my sweet, summer flame,” he spoke to you, kneeling at your side and pressing a kiss against your hands. Love and admiration were filling his eyes as he looked at you, yet all you could feel in return was disgust.

You didn't respond to his nickname, and rather gestured for him to turn around, which he did so promptly. He'd walk off the side of a mountain if you asked him to do so sweetly enough. With him facing the opposite direction, you took his hair into your hands. Thick and heavy, it smelled of fruits and that distinct ash scent that pyro users could never get rid of. You raked your fingers through his locks to comb them before quickly braiding his hair until it was neatly down his back.

You tapped his shoulders twice to indicate that you were done and that he was free to leave, yet he didn't move your side, not for a bit at least. But then he finally stood, without a word which was rare for Diluc who couldn't help, but to proclaim his love to you whenever he got the chance. It didn't bother you that he wasn't speaking, you found it rather pleasant actually, while he continued to dress himself in the mirror you continued your task of lounging and doing absolutely nothing. Looking up just once though, revealed that as he was buttoning his top, he was staring at his neatly done braid with such gentle and loving eyes, you'd think he was looking at an animal, and with a face so red it reminded you of the same flames he used.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Somehow the timing was just right, and Bradley's arrival meant he could join you for your appointment. He'd find out if he was having a son or daughter in person, with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget he loved so much.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Bradley," you gasped, head tipped back against the pillar that was pressing into your shoulder. "Your duffle is here. I can see it." Actually, it was just going around and around on the conveyor belt while Bradley sucked gently on your neck and slowly bunched the fabric of your dress in his hand over your bump. And just like that, once again, your focus drifted away from the bag as soon as he spoke.

"I'll get it in a minute," he murmured next to your ear. "I'm a little busy."

You were getting side eye from a woman, and a random man was outright gawking at you, but you didn't really care. The airport was busy, but it wasn't enough to make you pull your fingers from Bradley's soft hair or tell him to stop kissing his way back to your lips. His bristly mustache made you sigh when he reached his destination once again, and you let him taste your tongue before you pulled away slightly.

"Roo. We're kind of on a tight schedule." When he just grunted in response and headed for your lips again, you laughed. "Daddy! Let's go see the Nugget."

He seemed to snap out of it a little bit, the desire in his eyes giving way to excitement. "Right. Let's go. I can taste you everywhere at home later."

When he took you by the hand, you had to dig your heels in. "We need your bag!" you said with a smile. Then he led you in the opposite direction and snatched his massive duffle up like it was nothing and tossed it over his shoulder. You had to hustle along next to him as he exited the airport through the sliding doors and headed for the parking garage. It was like he knew you parked near the spot where he totaled your beloved little Honda when he finally got you pregnant on his birthday. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you recalled the details.

He must have seen his blue Bronco in the last row, because he picked up his pace a little bit more. "I don't think we have time for reunion sex yet," he muttered, glancing at you and letting his gaze dip down your body. "But I'll take care of you later. You got along okay without me?"

You let out a little squeak as he tossed his bag in the back and headed for the passenger side door so he could unlock it for you. "Honestly? I haven't been as insatiable since the first trimester ended," you told him, leaning closer to inhale the scent of his deodorant. "At least... I wasn't until right now."

He pulled you close again and tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. "Listen, I'm a little keyed up, and I don't think I can be quick. Can you wait until later?"

"Oh, God," you whined, your skin tingling at the thought of how long he might last for you and how good he would feel. "This is just as exciting as when I felt the baby moving on Halloween."

His brown eyes went wide, and his lips parted in surprise. "You felt the Nugget?!" When you nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

You just gaped at him. "Seriously? You had your mouth all over mine! How was I supposed to tell you anything?"

"Shit," he hissed and handed you the keys before his hands settled on your belly, drifting around, trying to feel something. "You drive," he said, slowly guiding you to the other side of the Bronco. "I need to work on feeling a kick." 

As he buckled you in behind the wheel, you didn't have the heart to tell him that the baby wasn't even moving around much right now, or that it would probably be weeks before he'd be able to feel anything externally. He was too adorable when he was this excited, and you watched him run around the hood and jump inside like an overgrown golden retriever who had been offered a treat. His eyes were wide as he got himself buckled before placing both hands on your belly.

"Okay. I'm ready to go," he informed you with a nod.

"You sure?" you asked, smirking as you put the key in the ignition. "A minute ago, you looked like you were ready to have parking garage sex again, and now you're all over me and the Nugget."

You shifted into gear, and he whispered, "I'm ready, Baby Girl. I'm so fucking ready to learn what we're having, and if I feel a little kick on the way, it'll be like a cherry on top of the best day."

You paid the parking fee and pulled out onto the main road as you realized you only had about twenty minutes to get to Dr. Morris's office on time. "Don't get your hopes up," you said while Bradley felt you all over. "You probably won't be able to feel anything. It's still early for that."

"Hey, not to be rude, Sweetheart, but I'm actually going to need you to stop talking."

"What?" you asked, so startled you laughed a little bit. "Did you just ask me to be quiet?"

He kissed your cheek while you drove and whispered, "It's just that I can't tell if it's the vibrations from your voice or the baby moving. Please? I love you." Now you were laughing even harder as his big hands moved all around on you. "No, no, that's- see you're actually moving more when you laugh though." He kissed your cheek again as you rolled your eyes and smothered your laughter. "That's better."

When you pulled into the parking lot of the medical complex, your husband's fingers were stroking your belly gently, and when you parked again and looked at him, you saw a few tears in his eyes. "You okay?" you asked softly. 

"Yeah. I'm good. Like really fucking good."

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

Bradley was forever wondering when his luck would run out. His life just seemed too good to be true. He was holding hands with his hot, pregnant wife in the waiting room, just buzzing with excitement. In a few short minutes, he was going to find out if he was having a son or a daughter. He wondered if this was how his dad felt in 1984. He wondered if Nick Bradshaw ever wanted to randomly get on his knees for his wife for no reason.

"They called us," you whispered, kissing his cheek before you stood up. Bradley jumped to his feet as well, so deep in thought, he hadn't heard anything. He'd never admit it to you, but this was probably more exciting than the day the two of you got married.

He pressed his sweaty palm to yours and walked past the reception desk at your side. Three short hallways later, and a nurse led you into a large, dimly lit room with huge computer monitors on one wall. "I'm so fucking excited, I might pass out," he said, voice deep and raspy. 

The nurse eyed him cautiously. "Perhaps you should have a seat while Dr. Morris performs the scan?"

He nodded, intercepting the cotton gown before you could take it from her. "That's a great idea. I'll do that."

Once she was gone, Bradley turned to you and started unfolding the gown while you stepped out of your boat shoes. "Are you really going to pass out?" you asked him as you started to pull your sinfully snug dress up your legs.

"Let me do that," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and pushing the fabric up and over your belly. He kissed your tattoo through your underwear, and then he kissed the spot next to your belly button where he always imagined the Nugget was hanging out. "I love you," he whispered before getting to his feet again and pulling the dress up and over your head. You weren't wearing a bra, and your breasts looked so fucking incredible, he wanted them in his mouth.

"You're staring at me," you said, reaching for the gown as you shifted back and forth in place like you were getting cold. "I know I look different. I gained like eight or nine pounds while you were gone once I stopped throwing up all the time."

Bradley let you take the gown from his hands. "Jesus Christ, maybe I really should sit down," he muttered, dragging a chair over next to the table where you'd be sitting in a moment. "And I was just staring at your tits, Baby Girl. You don't look different, you look fucking hot pregnant. God, this is more exciting than when you let me fuck you in the ass."

And that was the exact moment when Dr. Morris entered the room and cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Bradshaw," she said, reaching out to shake his hand as he hovered awkwardly over the chair before standing up again. "It's so nice to have you back with us." You were cradling your head in your hand in embarrassment as he shook hands with your obstetrician.

"Dr. Morris," he murmured. "I only missed the last appointments, because I was deployed. There's nothing else that could have kept me away, I swear."

She laughed and looked between the two of you and said, "Well, we do like a supportive and adventurous partner."

"Roo," you groaned softly as you started to climb up on the table. Bradley turned to help you, and you let him.

"She's a doctor, Sweetheart," he whispered. "She's heard it all."

"That's true," Dr. Morris said as she washed her hands, and you gave Bradley a bland look as you settled back on the table which was bent at an angle that would let you see the monitors. He was so excited, he just kissed your forehead a bunch of times while Dr. Morris asked, "Are we ready to get started?"

"Yes!" he practically shouted while you responded in a much calmer tone. He eased himself down into the chair and looked up at you as he reached for your hand.

"This is it," you told him with a nervous smile. "Any final guesses?"

He shook his head, his attention drawn to the monitors as they came to life. "I don't care one way or the other. I just want to know everything I can about the Nugget." 

Then he took your hand in both of his bigger ones and brought your fingers up to his lips as you said, "Me, too."

Bradley's heart skipped around as Dr. Morris spread the warm gel on your belly, and he had to press his lips together to keep quiet. He'd imagined himself holding a son, and he'd imagined himself holding a daughter. He had thought about names he liked for both. He considered what wild colors he might one day paint the bedroom walls, and he looked forward to it. He thought he'd be good at being a basketball dad or a dance dad or a cheer dad or a soccer dad. And that's why it didn't really matter what Dr. Morris said today. It didn't really matter what his kid was into or not into, because the Nugget was going to be an extension of the two of you. Somehow that equated to perfection in his mind.

"Let's count some little toes," Dr. Morris said, and then Bradley squeezed your hand as two tiny feet appeared on the screen.

"Holy shit," he whispered. There were ten perfect toes on his perfect baby, and he had to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand as you laughed softly in awe. The Nugget would be smart and confident just like you were. Bradley would get the attic taken care of, and he'd put together the jungle gym. He would do every single thing that needed to be done to make a perfect home for this child. He would take care of you every day right now until he was taking care of both of you.

"Now let's check on the fingers."

Ten tiny fingers, attached to the cutest baby he'd ever seen in his life. Bradley took a deep breath and let his forehead rest against your arm as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh my God," he whispered, knowing he'd be able to count those toes and fingers in person next year. He could tickle them and send piggies to the market. He could kiss them and watch them toddle across the living room floor after Tramp.

"Let's just get a look at the heartbeat and a few other things here." Dr. Morris was taking her time, which Bradley appreciated. He liked a thorough doctor, but the anticipation was killing him. 

The heartbeat on the screen had you mesmerized when he looked at your beautiful face, but then you turned to look at him. Once again, he had no idea how he ended up this lucky. "I love you, Roo."

His already blurry vision just got worse as he sucked in a deep breath. "I love you so much." 

This time you brought his fingers up to your lips and kissed him as Dr. Morris added a little more gel to your belly and smashed it down with the ultrasound paddle. "Are you sure you want to find out the sex?"

"Yes!" you said, smiling at Bradley like you fucking knew you were his whole world. Like you didn't mind sharing him with the Nugget from now on. "We want to know!"

Bradley watched your face as you watched the monitor. His fingers on your wrist told him your heart was racing just like his was, and you were licking your lips in anticipation. You were perfect. His life was perfect. His baby was going to follow suit, no doubt about that. A smile found its way to his lips, and his shoulders relaxed, knowing that the next words he heard were going to be perfect, too. How could they not be?

"Congratulations. It's a girl."

The feeling inside his body was something he never knew before. He felt as much love as he had when he listened to you read your wedding vows, but this was something more. He was going to have a perfect little girl. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he was going to get to love and take responsibility for raising a daughter.

"Roo!" you sobbed, reaching for him, and then he was on his feet and kissing you.

"A girl," he said even as he mashed his lips to yours. "A daughter."

He wasn't sure if he felt his own tears or yours on his cheeks as you pressed your forehead to his and asked, "Are you happy?"

It took him a few seconds to get control of his voice as he held your face in his hands. "I'm living the life of my dreams."

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

Bradley had tears in his eyes and ultrasound images clutched to his chest as you led him outside to the Bronco. His free hand was clasped tight with yours, and you'd never seen him look so happy in your life. "A little girl," he said, handing you his keys once again, and you already knew what he was going to do when he buckled you into the driver's seat. "We're having a girl," he whispered, brown eyes wide as he kissed your wedding rings.

You nodded and wiped your thumb along his cheek. "It just makes sense somehow."

"It does," he agreed, kissing your lips before leaning down to kiss your bump through your dress. "I love this Nugget," he whispered. "My daughter."

You whined his name as he said those words, and when he looked up at you, all you could say was, "You're going to be the best Daddy, Roo." You thought about it all the time. The way he'd carry the baby around and read bedtime stories. The way he'd always be patient and sweet. You weren't sure if you'd always imagined a little girl or not, but it made so much sense right now.

"Let's go home," he rasped, kissing his way up from your belly until he got to your tender breasts. Technically you were supposed to work this afternoon, at least that's what you'd told Bickel. As Bradley ran around to the passenger side, you dug your phone out and texted your boss, letting him know that the baby was fine, and you'd see him on Monday. 

"What's wrong?" Bradley asked as you tossed your phone aside and started the engine.

"Nothing. Everything is right. I'm taking the rest of the day off so we can spend it together," you replied softly as his hands found their way back to your belly. It had been too many weeks since you'd been touched, and it felt so good, you had to press your lips together to keep from moaning. "I want to spend it with you."

He grunted and kissed the side of your neck as you pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm not letting my girls out of my sight all weekend."

"Bradley," you whined, feeling so much desire for him. The two of you could start talking about nursery decor and girl names and when you wanted to break the news to everyone else. You could do all of those things this weekend now that he was home. But you were also just needy for him.

You made a little noise as you tried your best to go the speed limit, and you knew that your husband knew what you needed. "I'll take care of you, Sweetheart. Don't worry about that. I'll take care of everything." 

He was tracing hearts along your belly, and you turned to look at his slightly lovesick eyes when you stopped at an intersection. "I know you will." You delighted in the fact that you were having a little girl who would get to share all of his love with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget, and pretty soon she would be showered in it too.

When you pulled into the driveway and parked in the tight spot next to your red Bronco, Bradley eyed the pallets of jungle gym pieces. "I can't fucking wait to build that thing. I've been dreaming about it for so long." Then he was jumping out the door as you shifted into park, and he was around to your side in an instant. "Been dreaming about this day for ages," he whispered as you climbed down and into his arms. His hands found your lower back as he added, "Been thinking about you and the Nugget since I left."

You smiled up at him. "You know what might be fun, Daddy?"

"What?" he asked, keeping his eyes on yours as he started to lead you up to the porch.

"If you start building the Nugget's playset tomorrow, and you get all sweaty and let me watch," you said, your voice turning into a soft whimper at the end. 

Bradley jammed the house key into the lock, and shoved the door open. He hooked one arm around your waist and pulled you inside with him as Tramp started jumping around like a maniac. "Hey, buddy," Bradley told him with a smile. "I missed you, too. But I need some time with my girls first."

"It's okay," you said as you closed the door behind you. "He probably won't calm down until you play with him a little bit."

But Bradley was pushing you back against the door even as Tramp ran around in circles. "Wait right here," he commanded softly, and lust rippled through you at the sight of his pupils blown wide. "Don't move an inch." 

You felt like you were barely even breathing as you stood very still and watched Bradley lead Tramp past the piano and out the back sliding glass door. "I promise I'll play with you next. I just desperately need to fuck my wife." Then he made his way back to you, his lips set in a determined smirk, and his movements beyond sexy. "I promised I wouldn't leave you hanging."

You closed your eyes as his palm came to rest on the wooden door just next to your head. His warmth was so close, but he wasn't touching you yet as you whispered, "You always take care of me."

His fingers started to pull up the hem of your dress as he crooned, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me how much you missed me."

You tipped your head back until it met the door, and you kept your eyes squeezed closed as you whined, "Couldn't go another day without you." When his lips met your cleavage, your eyes flew open. His lips grazed your nipple through the thin fabric as he slowly knelt in front of you, and you told him, "Your daughter and I missed you terribly."

When he looked up at your face, he pulled your dress up and said, "I'm so in love with you." He ran his lips along your bare belly. "And you." Then he pressed the bunched up fabric against your ribs, and when he said, "Hold this for me, Baby Girl," you did exactly as you were told.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Fuck," he grunted, rough hands on your thighs as he kissed your belly button. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" His eyes met yours again. "You asked me if I was happy. I've been happy since I met you. Since you gave me a purpose. Since you let me love you." His hands found the scrap of your white lace underwear and started to pull it down your thighs. "God, I missed this," he murmured, pressing his lips to your pussy as soon as you were free of the lace which slipped all the way down until your panties hit your boat shoes.

"Bradley," you croaked, the second syllable sounding much longer than the first as he licked his way up your slit to the patch of hair that you kept neatly trimmed. He licked along this same path again, this time pressing deeper with his tongue. The third time, he separated you a little more, and then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently. All the while he kept his big hands on the swell of your belly. "I really missed you."

He responded by kissing your dainty rooster tattoo and burying his face in your pussy. Bradley gently nudged your legs further apart so he could taste you everywhere, and each time you started to buck, he pushed your hips back. You were gripping your dress so tight in both hands, you were afraid you might rip the fabric, but he just kept going in a smooth up and down stripe until you could tell you were dripping wet.

"Yeah, you missed me," he grunted, kissing your tattoo one more time. "I can taste how much."

"Roo."

He got to his feet and cupped your pussy below the swell of your belly, circling your opening with the tip of one finger as he leaned in close. "Will you let me take you to bed and show you how much I missed you?"

Your voice shook as he pushed his finger inside you, just a promise of what was to come if you agreed. "Please!"

Barely ten seconds later, you were on your back in bed, your dress pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts and belly to him. Your soaked pussy was already clenching as the cool air hit your skin, and you watched Bradley wrench his shirt off and unzip his pants. But he didn't penetrate you yet. He pushed on the backs of your thighs so your knees got a little closer to your shoulders, and you whimpered his name.

His eyes were a little wild as he said, "Yeah, I'll take care of everything, Sweetheart." Bradley wrapped his hands around your thighs and leaned down to kiss at your furled nipples, his mustache leaving you squirming, searching for release. "Your fucking tits are huge. My God. And so warm." 

He nuzzled himself against your breasts which were in fact getting to the point where your bras were fitting a little too tight. He sucked and swiped his tongue along, and you let your fingers sink into his hair as he brought you close with his mouth wrapped around one nipple then the other. "Oh my God," you panted, just spurring him on. Because next, his mouth trailed back down to your belly where he whispered and worshipped you.

"I love my girls," he crooned, spreading your legs open wider as you tugged on his hair to keep yourself grounded. "I love you so much."

"Please," you begged softly, and he finally put that mouth back on your soaking wet core. You were about to come, grinding against his lips and his nose, his name falling from you like a depraved prayer. Eventually he paused before filling you with his cock instead. You cried out as he stretched you fully for the first time in so long, and almost immediately he was fucking you to completion. You came hard, your back arching off the bed as you grabbed at his shoulders, but you knew he wanted his share, too.

Bradley fucked you through your orgasm, lips pressed to your ear so you could hear every word he said and every deep rumble at the back of his throat. "You were made for me, weren't you, Baby Girl? And I was made to worship you."

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

By the time Bradley came, he was sweaty and babbling like a lovesick idiot. Everything he cared about most was right there in his arms as you took him deep, always welcoming him into your sweetness. The relief he felt was incredible as he finally rolled onto his back, pulling you a little closer as he went.

"I'm gonna be a girl dad," he said with a smile as he looked at the ceiling through his post orgasm haze. "I can't wait."

The slick friction from his cum teased at his leg hairs as your pussy rested against his thigh, and you snuggled up against his chest. "Me too, Roo. I'm so excited to meet her." 

Your fingers teased along his abs, lulling him ever closer to an afternoon nap. He knew that one of you needed to let Tramp back inside, and he was going to have to scrape together something for you to eat soon. But right now, he didn't want to move.

"What happened with your deployment?" you asked softly as he yawned. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now when he knew you were carrying his little girl, but he should have known you'd have questions. 

"It fucking sucked. Being away from you gets harder and harder each time now. They kept tacking on more weeks of these random bombing runs, and the weather was miserable. We had to fly in the rain half the time."

He listened to you hum, contemplating what he said. "It was so scary when you got called to action in the middle of talking to me over FaceTime. I couldn't stop crying. And then it was weeks before some random guy in personnel called me to let me know you were on your way home."

It was hard to believe he was on that flight back to San Diego just a few hours ago. "Honestly, in all of the excitement today, that already feels so distant in my mind," he told you, kissing your forehead as he thought about how long he had been away from you. "We didn't really know we were heading home until it was happening. And it was so late here when we got released, they told me they'd have someone reach out so I didn't have to wake you up again. Then there was only one seat left on the first flight home, and once Payback and I were being airlifted to Hong Kong, they told us to decide who was taking that spot. He gave it to me, no questions asked. Told me to get home to you and the Nugget."

You gasped and murmured, "Reuben is the sweetest."

Bradley chuckled as his fingers grazed along the side of your bump. "Yeah, well, you actually owe him three dozen chocolate chip cookies. That was the only stipulation for the deal."

Your laughter made Bradley's smile grow. "Totally worth it. Actually, since you made it home in time for my appointment, I'll make five dozen for him."

"No wonder everyone thinks I'm spoiled," he told you, tugging on you until you were straddling his hips and looking down at him with your hands braced on his chest. "Fuck. Just look at you." 

His sticky cum was matted in your pubic hair, and your tits looked delicious. There was no way he'd be able to keep his hands away from you now that he'd seen and felt your little bump in person. His daughter was growing in there. He smiled and ran his palm gently over your skin, stroking you with his thumb as your pretty gaze stayed transfixed on his.

"I'm happy you're home, Roo."

He nodded, eye lids growing heavy from jet lag and the time zones, and he simply didn't argue when you kissed his cheek and said you were going to let Tramp inside and then take a nap with him. Soon enough, Bradley was snuggled up in bed with his head resting next to your belly and your fingers tangled in his hair. Your sweet voice lulled him to sleep for the best afternoon nap of his life.

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

This has been a very emotional day for Bradley. He's home with his hot wife, and now he gets to start planning for the arrival of their daughter in a few more months! Thank you so much for reading about the Nugget! More to come soon, including the first wedding anniversary! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[actual-changeling]

this one is thanks to a post by @thegroovyfool because she is very much correct - we do not talk about aziraphale's "i need you" enough.

so once again, with a deep breath and a sigh, welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, where i tear apart the confession scene frame by frame. i'm gonna say, watching this particular clip over and over and focusing on aziraphale's face almost took me out.

let's get into it.

first, how about a little look at our starting point. (any blurry screencaps are due to a LOT of movement on michael's part rip)

crowley is very pointedly facing away from him, he turned after aziraphale said "we can be together - angels!", presumably because being offered exactly what he wants in the one way he cannot have it fried his brain, cause besties it surely fried mine.

aziraphale on the other hand looks openly desperate, which is why he says "i need you." more on that later. let's have a look at how he says it, because michael "microexpressions" sheen is putting in the work.

to me, he seems close to tears, his eyes are glistening in that specific "i'm about to cry my eyes out" way i know from looking in the mirror while crying

he is trying to get crowley to listen to him and to turn around. he wants crowley to face him, which is something most people tend to want during an argument. talking to someone who is not looking at you tends to make someone frustrated and like they're not hearing you/do not care about what you have to say.

aziraphale looks close to despair, his i need you is a plea to crowley to come with him. he is opening himself up not just emotionally but physically, too.

he slightly leans forward, his arms are raised and seem to both slightly grasp for crowley and point towards his chest/heart for emphasis. the pure pain visible on his face knocks the air out of me every single time i look at it.

aziraphale is admitting to needing him, something he has never done before, hell, he has told him the exact opposite on numerous occasions. i don't need you. and while they both knew it was a) a lie and b) a way for him to deal with his conflicting emotional standpoints and cognitive dissonance, it still hurt crowley every. single time.

crowley was there for him no matter what, he knows aziraphale needs him but he came back and remained at his side even when he was pushed away and more or less openly insulted. he endured it all.

aziraphale saying i need you now is pretty much a slap in the face but also what crowley needs to hear. as with everything that happens during the entire conversation, the timing is fucked up and they're talking past each other.

in my opinion, that is why crowley does not react.

only when aziraphale turns spiteful and starts questioning his understanding (aka calling him stupid without outright saying it) does he re-enter the conversation.

aziraphale, however, is upset. now, i will put on my tinhat for just a second and turn up the insanity because there are two more things i want to talk about.

first, the little stutter at the beginning.

"i ngk - i need you."

my question is - why? why does he stumble over these words in particular when it does not happen with any other sentence? the only other time is right after crowley walks away with his "good luck", he stumbles over crowley's name.

so, in short, it happens when he is either caught off-guard or saying something incredible emotional.

and this, everyone, is where i go unhinged in my interpretation.

what if he initially did not want to say "i need you?" what if he was so caught up in getting crowley to stay/come with him that he did not think and almost confessed another three word sentence?

what if he was about to say "i love you" but stopped himself because no, that's too direct, they don't do that, they can't do that. it goes against EVERYTHING they have silently build over the last six thousand years. so he chokes on it. he chokes on it and instead he says "i need you" because it means the same thing.

i need you. don't leave me. come with me. be an us. go off together.

i forgive you. i love you.

they say it over and over again because that's the only way they can say it.

that is why aziraphale is so angry and upset after saying it. he told crowley he loves him, he needs him, and all he got in return was silence.

the funny part is that this code may have worked before, but it no longer does. crowley is too hurt to listen to what aziraphale is trying to tell him, and aziraphale is equally as hurt and also not listening anymore.

the funny part is that it stopped being about love and started being about sides again. my side, your side, our side. choose a side, choose our side, choose me.

the funny part is that beelzebub and gabriel told them what they need to do, i found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Here's a little sneak peak on my part for the dynamite-gzg collab, linked here. Have fun~

Katsuki Bakugo has always loved you.

So of course he gets you something every valentines, even though he hates the stupid day. Seeing couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey drives him crazy- or maybe it's because he doesn't get to spend the day with the one person that's always on his mind.

He gets you your favourite shampoo and perfumes. Maybe you complained that your lipgloss was running thin or that your mascara isn't popping like it usually does, he gets you a new one — he always does.

But for all his efforts, there’s one thing that still drives him crazy: the fact that you haven’t realized how much he loves you.

He knows you care about him—hell, you’re his best friend, and you’re always there for him. But he wants more than that, even if he’s too damn stubborn to say it outright. 

Every time he sees you laughing with someone else, or when you mention some guy who’s caught your eye, it feels like a punch to the gut. He wonders if you’ll ever notice the way he looks at you, the way he stays up thinking about you long after he should be asleep, and sleep is a priority to him, mind you.

So, as he stands in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his uniform, he takes a deep breath. Today’s the day he’s going to tell you. Well, maybe. If the opportunity presents itself, that is. He’s not a coward, but the thought of messing this up makes his heart race in a way. He glances back to the little black box on his bed. What if it’s too much?

The day drags on, each class blending into the next as he tries to focus on anything but the way his heart clenches every time he sees you smile. By the time lunch rolls around, he’s more than ready for a break, his nerves frayed from the constant battle between wanting to tell you how he feels and the fear of ruining what you already have.

He’s sitting at his usual spot on the rooftop, surrounded by almost all of his friends. They’re chatting about the day and the prospect of finding a girl, but he can’t really focus, eyes darting over nervously to his bag where he kept the neat little box.

“Yo, Bakugo,” one of his guys call out and his eyes snap up. They jut their head out in the opposite direction and Bakugo follows, catching sight of you, walking towards him, with your friend behind you. 

“Katsuki?” you call out, spotting him and making your way over. “Mind if we join you?”

“Suit yourself,” he mutters, trying to hide the way his pulse quickens or the little jab he gets from one of the guys. He sends out a sharp glare, but that does nothing to stop them from snickering. “Yn, we saved you a spot~” one of them practically sings as he moves down, letting you sit next to Bakugo.

As you settle next to Katsuki, the familiar scent of your shampoo wafts over to him, instantly making him feel both at ease and on edge. You open your bento, the simple act of eating your lunch somehow making his heart beat faster.

You glance over at him and give him a curious smile. "Everything okay, Kats? You seem kinda out of it today."

He grunts, looking away quickly. "'M fine. Jus’ tired of all this Valentine's crap."

You chuckle, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "Yeah, I figured you’d say that. Bet you're dying to get back to studying, huh?"

"Something like that," he mutters, though in reality, studying is the last thing on his mind. He’s too preoccupied with the box in his bag and the fact that he’s been holding onto this secret for so long.

He’ll give it to you when the school day ends. He doesn’t want all of the teasing that  comes with it.

"Here. It's nothing special, but I figured you'd like it." he pushes the box closer to you, a blush coating the tips of his ears.

You blink in surprise, taking the box from him. "Oh, Katsuki, you didn’t have to get me anything. But thank you!" You smile warmly, your expression softening as you look at him.

“Just open it already,” he grumbles, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Why did this have to feel so damn intense?

You open the box carefully, revealing a delicate gold bracelet with a small charm shaped like the letter "K." The simple design speaks volumes more than any frilly Valentine's Day gift ever could. It’s a subtle yet personal touch, one that shows just how much he thinks about you, even if he doesn't say it.

He helps you attach it to your wrist and you smile, watching as it dangles and glimmers in the sunlight.

“Kats, it’s so cute. Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!” you squeal, practically jumping onto him as you hug him tightly. The carmine-eyes male smiles slightly, wrapping an arm around you.

“Ohhh~ Bakugo has a girl~” someone teases, and Bakugo immediately stiffens. The whoops and ‘ooh’s’ that follow only fuel his embarrassment, and he can feel the heat creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. Maybe he should wait to tell you a bit longer.

…

Why was he being such a pussy all of a sudden?

[gaycragula]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x assassin male reader who surprises Ghost with a sweet passionate kiss while hanging upside down?

Spider-Man Kisses

Pairing: Ghost x M!Reader Word Count: 679 Warning(s): Suggestive content, kissing, implications of a boner, descriptions of blood and gore, outright violence for the first 2 paragraphs, blood, assassin reader, assassination, graphic descriptions of blood Masterlist

Extra notes: Intended for m!reader but could be read as gn!reader. also im so sorry it took me forever to get to this </3

You let out a quiet grunt as you yanked your blade from a man’s body, pulling a handkerchief from your pocket to wipe it down. The man clawed at your boots, whatever he was trying to say coming out as gurgles as blood dripped from his mouth. You kicked his hand away, grimacing at the streak of blood he left on you. 

It wasn’t long before the sounds of him struggling stopped and you let out a breath. You removed the ring from his finger and pocketed it, evidence that he was dead. He was a high priority target, you’ll get paid nicely for the kill. 

You made your exit, quick and quiet, making use of the alleyway system to stay out of sight until you were a comfortable distance from the crime scene. Your pace slowed when you noticed a familiar figure appear ahead of you, walking in the opposite direction. 

His apartment was in that direction, you assumed that’s where he was heading. You debated for a moment whether or not to cut him off, surprise him if you will. It wasn’t often you got the chance to catch him off guard. 

It was a quick decision as you rerouted yourself to cut him off in the most convenient manner and you perched yourself atop a fire escape. Not long after, you spotted the outline of your boyfriend in the distance again. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. 

You didn’t get to see him very often. Both your current jobs keeping you separated most days. He must’ve just gotten back that day, it was rare that he wouldn’t call when he was home. 

As he got closer, an idea popped into your head and you quickly put it into action. You hooked one leg around the railing of the fire escape, making sure it would hold your weight. You waited a little longer, listening to the sounds of his steps before you slipped yourself off the fire escape, ending up a few feet in front of him, upside down. 

“Surprise!” You smile, trusting the punch he threw out of defense would stop before it hit you. 

“Bastard,” you hear Ghost hiss out as he drops his fist. Despite the harsh name, you watched his face soften when he saw you. His usual cold demeanor warming up ever so slightly. You swear you could see a smile dance over his face for a split second before it went still again. 

You chuckle out an apology before gesturing for him to come closer. Once he was in reach, you grabbed his face gently and pulled him into a kiss that quickly turned heated. “Couldn’t help myself,” you whisper between kisses, smiling against Simon’s lips. His lips were rough, as they often were, but you couldn’t help but love the way they felt against yours. “Missed you so much.”

Ghost’s hands found your arms and he mumbled something against your lips before separating. “C’mon down.”

“Right, one moment please, my good sir,” you tease before unhooking your leg and, with the help of Ghost, getting down on the ground. 

You weren’t down for more than two seconds before Simon had you backed against a nearby wall, his lips back on yours. Your hand moved to cup his face while his moved to your waist.  Both of you were breathless when you parted, chests heaving as you looked at each other. 

Ghost leaned into you, placing his forehead on yours. You smile up at him, rubbing your thumb along his jawline before you trailed your hand into his blonde hair, brushing your fingers through it. His eyes lidded as he moved to kiss you again, his hand traveling under your shirt to sit on your waist. “Your place?” You breathe out as he separates and  leans down to kiss your neck. 

He nods against you. “Now,” the desperate tone he had mixed with the roughness of his voice had your heart skipping a beat, your pants suddenly feeling too tight as you grabbed Simon’s hand and tugged him in the direction of his apartment. 

[loganwritesprobably]

First Meetings with.. (One Piece Edition)

Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part three with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy Part four with Benn, Shanks and Smoker

A tumblr exclusive collection of little reader insert drabbles - these won't be going on my AO3, these are just for the feral people of this wonderful hellscape

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

I'll probably do more over time but here's three to start with - Ace, Law and Sanji. Readers are all gender neutral, but for Sanji reader is fem presenting (so he would be nice)

"Well hey there gorgeous." A voice said behind you, startling you to the point of hitting your hand against the counter in front of you. You were just minding your business, attempting to buy some food for the week, when some random guy had appeared behind you. You had half a mind to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, when the shopkeeper's eyes widened, and whispered his name. Fire Fist Ace. The pirate. "Who do you think you are?" You asked, turning to face him with a scowl. You wouldn't attack him outright, but you were not happy with the look on his face (now that you could see it) and wouldn't let it go. "Your future boyfriend, hopefully." Ace replied, and you scoffed. You turned back to the shopkeeper and bought your groceries, before making to leave the store. Ace followed behind you closely, making no secret of the fact that he was there.

"Are you lost?" You snarked, rolling your eyes at Ace. He was persistent, you'd give him that. "Oh no, just hoping you'll look at me like that again. You're perfect." "You're disgusting." You grumbled, although you'd certainly never been called perfect before, and in another circumstance you wouldn't be mad about it. "Hey, now that's harsh." Ace replied, but he was laughing as he said it, clearly unphased by your displeasure being directed at him. You took off walking again, not walking toward your place since you didn't exactly want to lead him straight to it.

Ace, to his credit, continued to follow you and eventually began to just talk. He seemed to be able to talk forever, uncaring whether or not you were listening - though you were. He was a pirate, pretty high bounty, almost a warlord, he had a little brother who he was stupid proud of, and an even bigger family waiting for him back on his main ship. "While this is all very nice, are you going to leave me be any time soon?" You asked eventually, back on the main street of the town once again. "Are you going to tell me your name?" That was all? You told him your name, utterly exasperate it. "Well, gorgeous, you'll be seeing more of me soon." With that, he took off in the opposite direction of your home, with a swagger in his step, happy he'd gotten what he wanted. You kind of hoped that you would be seeing him again soon - you liked him, reluctantly.

You weren't even hurt that badly. The guys were gone, and you were managing to stumble home just fine. You had a first aid kit in the kitchen that would be able to patch you up, and then you could go to the doctor when you had the time and had gotten some sleep. It was too late to go see her now.

As you stumbled down the dark street, clutching walls for stability, a man began to approach you. "Fuck off! Not in the mood." You snarled, clutching the broken shard of glass you'd gotten in the fight, a strip of your shirt wrapped around it to protect your hand. "You're injured." The guy stated flatly, and then you'd hit a stalemate. "Duh?" You said, still brandishing the shard in your hand. "I can fix it. I'm a doctor. Don't have to drop the glass, but I'd prefer if you didn't stab me." The supposed doctor drawled. He seemed.. familiar. Something about him just sparked recognition in the back of your mind, and that put you a little on edge. "You're familiar - why?" You questioned, shuffling backward to get a little further away from him while you waited on his answer. "I'm Trafalgar Law. My bounty poster is on the wall you're clutching." The pirate doctor pointed out, nodding toward it. Well, that made sense. Surgeon of death you'd heard him called - so at least that meant he was a doctor right? "Alright. But one wrong move and you'll be needing your own medical care." You threatened, and Law just half nodded. He knelt down in front of you to look at your wound, then pulled some bandages from a pocket in his coat. He wrapped your leg, doing so in complete silence and without hesitation. When he was done, he stood again and grunted as he nodded.

"Should be fine now. It'll hurt to walk still, but less risk of infection." He summarised, stepping around you to continue in the direction he'd been going. "Wait! Why did you do that?" You asked, spinning quickly on your good leg. "You're cute." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. He lifted his hand, said a word you didn't hear, and then in a flash of blue light he was gone.

You'd bumped into him entirely by chance, and gotten talking. He was a nice guy, he was sweet if a little much when it came to women he saw. You didn't mind - you could see that his intentions were good, for the most part. He offered to pay for a drink for you, since you'd narrowly avoided colliding with him outside of a bar, and you'd accepted. He let you order what you wanted, and he paid, not even blinking. It was second nature to him. He was kind, and offered endless compliments that you withstood with a smile on your face - you weren't quite used to such a bombardment of affection.

He disappeared after an hour or so, but returned the next day. You'd tried to ask where he went, but he danced around the question and asked you on an official date. You'd had a nice enough time the day before, and so you agreed.

He took you to a restaurant, it was classier than you usually allowed yourself to go to with a modest amount of money, but it didn't seem to be any object for him. He told you that he wouldn't compromise on good food, and allowed you to order anything you'd like, with no concerns about how many beri it would set him back. It felt nice not to worry about it for once. You ordered starters, then mains, with drinks flowing easily between you, and then a dessert to share to end the experience. You'd been there for hours, but with the money that you'd spent, no waiter could argue.

The conversation between you was easy and light, he was enraptured by your every word, he couldn't help it. He looked at you as if you'd hung the very stars in the sky. "All I've done is talk. I know almost nothing about you." You said to him, and Sanji laughed awkwardly. "I suppose so. But I'm afraid there's not much to tell." He said, and just as you'd been about to argue, a woman with orange hair came bursting into the restaurant calling his name. You looked at him with wide eyes and stood quickly. "No! She's not-" Sanji said hurriedly. "How much of my money was spent on this date?" Nami demanded, fire in her eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you were-" You attempted to say to the woman, hoping she wouldn't direct her frightening anger at you. "Oh you're gorgeous. Well played cook, didn't think you had it in you." She praised, and then bewildered confusion fell over you. "Oh Nami, your praise is a balm on my heart." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms, raising an expectant eyebrow as you stared at Sanji, waiting for an explanation. "I'm a pirate. She's our navigator, and.. treasurer I suppose." He explained, and you sighed. "So you're not staying." "I can't." Sanji agreed, with a sad smile and nod. "But we're not leaving for another few days. So have fun while you can." Nami said, giving you a wink and Sanji a firm punch before turning to leave the restaurant.

Fun. You could do that.

[edgeray]

BENEATH THE MASK

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Have this Father's Day special oneshot.  enemies to lovers villain arlecchino x hero reader, aka, is it gay to sleep in the same bed as your enemy? Your hero name is Rover, because heheh wuwa reference.  Might make a part 2 if someone wants it.  Content warnings / info - arlecchino is mean and threatens you, arlecchino's pov, gn! reader, 2.2k words

A knock sounds on the front door, making Arlecchino pause in the midst of her meal. A visitor? Certainly, there’s no one she was expecting today, especially at–Arlecchino glances at the clock– 9:18PM. Anyone who she would allow to visit her would text or call beforehand. Should she just pretend that she's not there? Frowning, she sets down the fork on the table. Damn it, she really should install cameras already but she always pushes it back. 

Cautiously peering through the eye hole, her breath hitches and her eyes widen. If she had a heart, it would have sunk into her stomach. Her hands fly to the door handle, unlocking it and flinging it open. 

At her doorstep, you stand there, blood staining your torn and ripped suit as you clutch your arm. There's a knife lodged in your shoulder, and she could see your face– scratched up and bruised. Your pupils are foggy and your expression seems far away, hardly able to direct your attention onto her. Upon seeing her, an abnormal smile finds your face, then, your knees buckle and you tumble into her arms. She catches you effortlessly, slotting her arms behind your back and tugging you into her chest. You go boneless in her grasp.

“What the hell happened to you, Rover?” She demands through gritted teeth while she glances down at you. She carries you into her house, closing the door with a swift kick, doing her best to haul you into her living room and setting you down to lay on her couch. Your blood seeps into the furniture. You wince at the new movement, sharply inhaling.

“Got… into f-fight. With some, some new guy. Real asshole he was. Fucked… fucked him up pretty good,” you force out in between your labored breathing, before you cough out more blood. Your eyes flit over her form.

“Heh… nice sleepwear,” you remark with a trembling, cunning smile. “Who would have known… the notorious Knave sleeps in Hello Kitty pants… you're a lot less scary now… you know? Nice place as well…” 

Arlecchino proceeds to ignore your comment. “How did you find me? Why did you come here? Do you have a fucking death wish, Rover?” She presses on, her hardened features showing no hint of empathy or concern. 

“I'm… smarter than you think. And… I came because… hell, if I know.” You wetly cough. “Didn't have… anywhere else.” 

The two of you know that she won't kill you, at least not now. For as often you found one another on opposite sides, the two of you have come to understand each other. 

Arlecchino breathes in deeply through her nose, processing her enemy's word. Rover has always been a major hindrance in her plans– a constant rose thorn in her side for years, but she always appreciates your grit and strength. You've battled her tens of times, and each fight she can't deny the exhilaration she feels. She's yet to beat you and the vice versa is the same. A frequent dance between players of different sides, somehow the two of you always found the other in each other's paths. It would be romantic if it wasn't outright irritating.  

Only you could truly challenge you and for that it's why the pitiful state you're in disturbs her to no end. You can't die, not here, not now, not when it's not by her hands. She will pry your last breath with her own hands, she will not allow anyone else to have that honor. She wants to see what kind of expression you'd make when she snuffs out your final bit of life. It would be so easy to end you here. To wrap her claws around your pretty neck, watch your pathetic attempts of struggle, savor the despair in your eyes, oh how easy it would be. 

But if there was anything the Knave was, it was not a freeloader. She will not take other people's efforts and use them to further her own goals, which she will strive for by herself alone. If she killed you here, her own dignity would be singed. 

There will come a day when the Rover is brought down, and the perpetrator will be clear: her. Until then, your survival is of the utmost importance, and next? To pay this scum a lesson of who can touch her angel and it is certainly not him. 

“Who is this new villain that's sprung up?”  She questions as she walks to the bathroom, grabbing her first aid kit, cotton balls, and some alcohol. 

“Get this. The Doctor…” The hero then chuckles weakly. “Massive dick.” 

“I see…” the Knave mutters as she approaches you. “Why did you come to me instead of the hospital?” 

“Closer… easier to hide…”

“He was actively hunting you?” 

“His ‘segments’ are still out there… no doubt wanting to finish the job…”

“Segments?”

“His clones.” 

“Why you?” 

“Jealous… of my good looks, maybe…?” 

Arlecchino frowns. So you don't know why. She sits down in between your legs, leaning over you as she observes you, examining any wounds she can see. A couple of cuts on your sleeves and face, a deeper laceration over your sternum, and the knife wound. At least he gave her a little keepsake, though it is just like any cheap, small knife. If he has multiple ‘segments,’ then supplying them with proper weapons would be costly… 

“Can you remove your costume?” Her finger trails over your ribs making you hiss out in agony. 

You shake your hand. “C-can't… can barely lift my arms.” 

The Knave sighs, letting her claws extend out. “I'm going to have to cut it off you.” 

 “Go ahead.”

Deliberately and precisely, she uses one claw to slice open your costume, exposing your chest to her. You flush and squirm slightly before she places the same clawed hand over your stomach, talons pricking your skin. Her fingertips feel impossibly hot, just like her blood flame abilities. Your abdomen muscles flex just from the contact and she can feel it when her frown twitches. 

“Stay still,” she gruffs, piercing red-crossed eyes bores into yours. 

“At least…take me out… to dinner first, Knave,” you snicker. 

“You're insufferable.” 

As she patches you up and tends to the various bruises and cuts you have, a silence forms between the two of you. She notices that throughout the entire interaction, you're peering at her, but not at her hands–her face. 

“Lift your hips. I need to bandage your abdomen.” 

You try to comply, but find yourself barely able to lift it past a little up. You grunt in agony, and then give her puppy eyes. The Knave is a villain. She's able to destroy the city center with the snap of her fingers, has brought down buildings with no effort, and has cremated numerous people. She is either feared by the mass or revered by scums. She would never be defeated by something as commiserable as your pleading expression.

“Do I have to do everything for you? I wonder how I've yet beat you when you're this incompetent injured,” Arlecchino huffs. Her hands grasp your hip, raising your hips until she slides your bottom over her lap, your bent knees on either side of her. The sight resembles something terribly intimate to Arlecchino, and from your flustered appearance, it seems that way to you too.

“Didn't think I would… have the Knave in between… my legs so soon,” you smirk cunningly, wiggling your hips as best as you can to further enunciate your archon-awful humor. One hand of hers finds your thigh before she grips it, claws digging through your costume and nicking into your skin. It's shallow enough to act as a warning but deep enough for you to feel it, a gesture to show that she doesn't appreciate your mouth. 

“Did you forget? We are enemies. Just because I choose not to harm you now does that mean it would be wise to provoke me.”

“Not currently.” 

That much is true. Silence fills between the two of you again. 

“You know… you would be a lot easier to look at without your mask,” you whisper. Arlecchino looks up at you, her stone cold expression betrayed by her eyes, focused intently on you. How you had the audacity to trifle with her, she's uncertain. Perhaps it's just a distraction tactic you’ve turned into a habit, though she's unaware of whether or not you use this with other villains. 

“Are you suggesting I'm rather hard to look at when I do?” She inquires.

“Quite the opposite. You would look even better, though.”

“The reason I wear a mask is the same reason you do.” Though, you don't need to wear yours right now. She already knows where you reside, and your true name. 

“We don't have to wear masks when it's just us, Arlecchino.” The villain shivers at hearing her name come from your lips; it sounds immorally ethereal, wicked to associate something so vile with something as seraphic as your voice. And that voice that's slipped past her rational, calculating thoughts whispers that she'd like to hear you say her name again. It's just as electrifying as when you bellow her villain name in fury. 

She swears that the dead heart inside her chest beats for a moment. 

She comments nothing. She doesn’t enjoy the dalliance your words seem to imply, doesn't like how the air between you becomes thick with something that inspires hunger. She physically turns away from you. 

“I've finished patching you up. Rest is the only thing you can do now. With your regeneration, you should be back to normal conditions.” 

She packs up the various medical items, slotting the items into their respective containers. She's about to get up and put them away when your hand catches her wrist, a frail grip that she can effortlessly wrench herself out. She doesn't however. 

“Do you have… anywhere else for me to rest?”

“I've tended to your wounds and you ask for more? How selfish can you be, Rover?” She frowns. 

“The blood makes it feel… sticky.” 

“You need to wash off the blood.” 

“Well… considering I can't move my arms or legs…”

You're going to make her burst a blood vessel. 

“Know that your death will be excruciating,” she sighs, and you give her a cheeky grin that she wants nothing more than to rip off your face.  

She scoops you up into her strong arms, carrying you as firmly yet tenderly as possible in order to not aggravate your wounds. She takes you upstairs to a hallway, turning to the closest door. She seats you on the edge of the bathtub and turns on the faucet, letting the tub fill with hot water. She exits the room, presumably to grab some extra clothes and towels. She returns with exactly that, setting them down on the sinker counter. 

She picks you up again, seating herself first squarely in the tub before you're placed on her lap, your back towards her. 

“I'm going to have to remove your pants.” 

“Seems unfair if I'm the only one that's going to be naked.”

“Do not make me stain my walls with your blood tonight. I prefer not having to clean up the mess.” 

“You already have to clean up the living room, what's one more?” 

She shuts you up with a loud tearing noise as she slits down the seams until finally you're left exposed to her. You gasp, squeezing your thighs. Arlecchino takes note of this, a small smile disappearing on her lips the moment it appears. Once she peels the pant sleeves off of you, she tosses them carelessly onto the bathroom floor. She retracts her claws to rub off the dried blood on your back, a long exhale escaping her as she gapes wordlessly at all the scars and faded bruises that scatter your back. 

“No bath bomb?” You whine–yes, a full grown hero whining about a bath bomb–which quickly interrupts her stare.

“I'm not wasting one on you,” she says. 

Although Arlecchino can't see it, she knows that you pout.

Thankfully for the rest of the time she cleans the blood off, you hold back on any more suggestive quips. Arlecchino shuts off the faucet and dries you off without another word, dressing you in a satin robe. She turns, quickly removing her own wet clothes and donning proper dry ones. When she returns her gaze on you, you seem oddly flustered–ah, she forgot she had an audience. If you appreciated her bare self, you had said nothing about it.

She hoists you into her arms again, marching down to the room right next to, which is a bedroom, and you’re placed onto the soft bed. You waste no time indulging in the mattress before you stop. 

“Wait, isn't this your bed?” 

“Indeed,” she says nonchalantly after she shuts the lights, sliding under the covers beside you. 

“But, wait, you, don't you, don't you… have anywhere else?” 

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Well… it's just… you're not going to kill me when I'm asleep right?” You chuckle though the unease is evident in your words. Arlecchino grasps your chin, making you face her. Your face is only a hair's breadth away from hers and she feels your hot breath against her lips. 

“Do not mistake me. When I kill you, it'd be when you're awake and beaten by me alone,” she whispers huskily. She lets go of you, and turns to the side, her back facing you. 

She can feel your eyes burrow into her. She pays no mind.