#it is kind of beautiful now though so at least i’m proud of it and i’m underqualified for the job anyway lol
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updated my resume after i applied for a job
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New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.
Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…
And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…
He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.
But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show.
Astarion swallows.
Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less.
Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child?
“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie.
To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.
“Isn’t she perfect?”
Yes, perfectly hideous.
Astarion only hums in a way of reply.
That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.
“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.
The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.
Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?
He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?
Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him.
Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!
Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.
All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be.
“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”
Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.
Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief.
And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!
Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms.
She is perfect, after all.
Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back.
For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.
“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter.
Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”
“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”
“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.
Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.
“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”
A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.
“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate 3#dadstarion#astarion x tav#astarion headcanons#astarion x f!tav#baldur's gate astarion#astarion ancunin#to the best worst dad#astarion father of the year every year#Inspired by Howl from Howl's Moving Castle or rather Castle in the Air#where his first words upon seeing his newborn son are “My word he's ugly!”—truly an inspirational man!#my grandma said for legal reasons i'm not allowed to call any babies ugly so these are astarion's words not mine#just so we're on the same page#emicha writes
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in bloom | xavier
summary: You take Xavier to see the flowers of memories past, though something changes this time around.
tags: suggestive, established relationship, afab!reader (v genitalia mentioned), kissing, flowers, sneezing, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (in a sense), straddling, dry humping, grinding, dry orgasm, (1) jeremiah mention, inspired by 'celestial message'
wc: 2.4k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist
a/n: mildly inspired by a portion of celestial message (his birthday card)! my small present to the galaxy’s brightest star, happy xavier day (in advance) <3
The sight you’ve found yourselves in is truly beautiful—natural flora stretches the grounds beyond what the eye could see, in a sea of greens to soft blues and purples that stand proud. Even with the passage of time, the secret garden claimed to be yours and his has blossomed so well.
Part of a birthday surprise for your beloved star, you lovingly roped him into revisiting the grounds once more.
With the warmth of the sun lightly tracing onto your backs, it glitters so effortlessly in the shine of Xavier’s doey gaze. Held gently under you, the bedding of nature supports his reclined posture. It softened his earlier tumble, after a twirl in his embrace and a slight misstep placed you in the very scenery. One hand now laces yours for comfort, the other steadying your waist and gentle to the touch.
The breeze was ever so gentle, tickling your senses and the petals alike. A deep inhale serviced the dewy origins, fresh and yet with a hint of saccharine delicacy to their lingering notes. Refreshingly pleasant, leagues different from the bite of pavement in Linkon City or a battlefield with its loamy terrains and dust.
“The view is as stunning as I remembered,” you say, smiling at an equally pleased Xavier. “I’m glad we were able to make a visit.”
You brush his bangs aside, letting a spare petal fall beside him and revealing the forehead hidden beneath. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to the skin, feeling his brow twitch at the touch.
“Mm,” he confirms. By the time you pull away, he’s already risen to meet the distance in a newly upright position. Xavier meets you head on, the tip of his nose nudging yours in thought. “Very pretty.”
You realize his eyes never left yours, and you frown. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
The edge of his lips curls for a brief moment, though his voice remains calm. “Like what, exactly?”
“You know, with those eyes.”
The kind of eyes that were soft around the edges, ones that only spoke of a gentle affection that yearned for love and to be loved. A look so prominently full of adoration and unspoken emotions breaching their surface—a quiet confession of care that intended to memorize this very moment.
And in those very pools of blue, you find yourself sheepishly blinking at him, unsure of how to face such a fondness without wanting to shy away.
“It’s not like I have any other ones,” Xavier teases, his hand reaching to cup your jaw. He redirects your shifted gaze back to his, as bright as the star twinkling near his chest. “At least let me look at you.”
“You’re looking at me too much,” you try to reason. You could feel the embarrassment warm your cheeks as you mumble, “It’s unlike you to stare for so long.”
Xavier blinks. Then, blinks again. And by another round of fluttering eyes, he only shakes his head and with a gentle chuckle of, “I want to. I like looking at you, anyhow.”
His thumb swipes across your heated cheek in thought. “I feel as if there aren’t enough moments in time that let me admire you like this.”
“That’s—“ Even more embarrassing, you want to admit. Not that you could deny the flutter of your heartbeat at the sound.
So you just inhale, like the ones before it—but you pause, feeling a knowing itch creep upwards. With a swift turn of your head, you expel the sudden sneeze into your tucked elbow.
“Bless you.”
“Tha—ah, ah-kshoo—!” How romantic. You inwardly cringe with a sardonic purse of your lips.
Amusement softens his words. “Bless you, again.”
“Sorry,” you manage, huffing away the sudden fit. A sniffle accompanies your apologetic gaze. Odd, your nose still tingles; partially stuffy, yet you have no urge to sneeze once more. Still, precaution leads you to face away from him in case it comes.
All too quickly, you’re keenly aware of just how warm everything is. Sunshine prickling your skin was one thing, but it never bothered you much until now. A dry swallow drags along the inside of your throat—even more strange, you feel an unnerving wave of need and longing for a drink, coupling something… else.
It shows on your face, though you try to conceal it. Xavier barely reappears in your peripheral, concern drawing his brows together. “Are you feeling okay?”
His question barely registers at first. “Peachy,” you lie, nearly dragging the sound from your tongue. With a turn, you open your mouth to continue a quip, but it falls short and hangs open when you take in his appearance.
Unlike his usually serene and relaxed expression, Xavier’s skin burned a flush so bright, you would’ve mistaken it for a terrible, terrible sunburn. His chest rises and falls—normal, yes—but at a heightened pace, a breathless pace. Shallow, almost. You want to laugh at his blushed state, but stop in your tracks when your eyes search his.
Dark, and not from the lush of his lashes, staring at you with a half-lidded stare. Does he even realize how alluring he looks in this moment?
The laughter in your throat quickly dies down, and a surging need to do something about it fills you instead. It claws at your stomach with hot hands, traveling down to your core.
Oh, this is dangerous.
Your questions receive their answers when his nose nuzzles yours once more, this time more insistent than the last. “Really?” The singular word held an edge, roughing the normally soft cadence he spoke with.
There were only a handful of times where Xavier would sound so different—one, in the mornings where he wants nothing but ‘five more minutes’ trapped in your warmth. (And really, an excuse to avoid going to work so soon.)
Another, on the rare blue moon of sickness that itches his throat and dulls his senses. Where a remedy of soothing teas and attentive touches would comfort him some.
And then, there was the third—when he was about to devour you whole, skin to skin and reshape your body to remember nothing else but him. The times where his hands and mouth would explore you endlessly, only to eventually find his way into your welcoming warmth and drag out long, needy moans of your name.
In that tone dripping with nothing but indecency and an affection to you—the very same that you just heard.
If it were any other situation, you think you could’ve managed. But when neatly planted on his lap, hipbone practically digging into one another and a gaze so searing that it could contend to the one bubbling within you, you find yourself shaking your head.
“No,” you whisper, intensely aware of the current predicament. “I feel… hot, Xav. I don’t know why, but I—“
Want nothing more than to strip you bare and ruin these flowers, along with you in them. To scratch at the unrelenting heat numbing your senses, to succumb to the spike of desire—all these things run through your mind, yet fall short on your tongue.
“I know,” he reassures, though it comes out heavier than expected.
His hand releases yours, and for a moment, a pang of disappointment washes over you. It’s put at ease when both of his arms curl themselves around your waist in an almost possessive hold, keeping you to him instead.
Xavier drags his nose across your cheek, then down to the meeting place of your jaw and earlobe.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
Too, he says. So the flushing skin carried more than what it seems, and a part of you—the primal urge to unsheathe him whole—is elated.
“What,” you breathe out, squirming when his lips press together and grace your skin. “Is this?” You instinctively tilt your head back, granting him more space to cover you in peppered kisses.
“There shouldn’t be any major Wanderers nearby to ruin the Meta—ah…”
Your ramblings bleed into a faint moan when those same lips found your pulse point, wet and ardent as he worked a blossoming rose against it. His teeth graze slightly, sealing their mark before sliding to the other side of your neck, more than ready to mirror the mark. And he does, in ardent succession, repeat his sign of affections.
A hand sneaks to toy with the fabric of your dress, slowly lifting the skirt to bunch at your lower back. Encouraging you to lower your body, to rest perfectly against him. It draws you closer, more so than before—you could barely stifle a relieved sigh when his groin finds your cunt, rubbing at you through hardened slacks. You find your hips rocking against it, chasing the feeling for what it was worth; and it was definitely worth the fine groan that draws from his puckered lips, continuing to suck at your skin with a firm press.
Xavier drank you in like a bee to honey, nosing and kissing wherever his mouth would take him. Feverish even, when he returns your salacious grinding with his own and arms tightening around you. You run your fingers through his fine strands of starlight, and he groans into your clavicle at the feeling of nails gently scraping his nape.
What was once a soft, gentle breeze now carries the palpable tension of your bodies cradled amidst the flowers. The scent of arousal pricked your nose—whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t make heads or tails of it—and only grew worse with every deep cycling breath. Labored, all equally and undeniably filled with primal want.
There was something gratifying about the way his cock strained to meet you through fabric, and how you had a feverish inclination to take him whole. Every grind that slips between your folds and just barely meeting your clit has you desperate for something more. Tingles in all the right places, sending your mind into your pleasurable overdrive.
A particularly pointed rut of his hips has you choking out his name, thighs trembling to meet them back in tenfold. “I—I might just—if you keep doing that,” you waver between wanton moans, coils in your abdomen quickly coming undone.
Xavier withdraws his lips, sheen with ardor and the efforts of marking your skin. His forehead finds your shoulder, pressing further into your warm body and mouthing there instead. “Close, are you? Just from this?”
“I can’t help it,” you whine, and with a wiggle of your hips you confirm that, “You’re no better than me.”
The very length that hardened and prodded against you was proud, see-sawing you to the heated brink you found yourself falling towards. A frictional transaction at best, and your undoing at worst.
His hands paw at your bottom, gripping the plump flesh and only moving you further along. “You’re right,” he mutters, angling his jaw to barely skim your ear and says, “Does it make me worse if I want you to come like this?”
“You monster,” you breathe out in jest, though no malice was found in the desire that overwhelms your response.
“Just for today,” he insists, canting his hips into you furthermore. A chaste kiss touches your lower lip, quietly asking for permission to seal them with his own. “I’m close, and I know you are too.”
“Yeah,” you concede with a breath against his lip. His eyes flutter to a close in anticipation when the warmth fans over him. “You got me there.”
Your own thundering heart rings loudly in your ears when you press your mouth to his, swallowing your moans and his in the heat of it all. Dizzying, a pandora’s box of temptation that drives you to trace his canines and fight against his own tongue.
You nearly bite down on said tongue when climax finally crashes into you, toes curling and pleasure ebbing in gentle waves as you come undone. Xavier’s hold was steady, and no sooner did a throbbing between your legs mark his own high—at the very least, he was honest. Sounds of muffled groans flowed from his throat to yours, pleased before parting for much needed air.
The moment stayed this way for a couple of heartbeats, with only the sounds of your breaths coming to a collective slow and occasional bristle of flora in the wind. Your sense of heart came to a calm, detangled from the thorns of indecent intent.
The air is crisp to your inhale, and an exhale makes you realize what exactly just happened. “Xavier,” you mumble, patting his shoulders. “Did we just…”
“We did,” he dryly confirms, and can’t help but chuckle at the awareness. His voice softens as he asks, “Do you still feel hot?”
“I’m good now,” you reassure with a nod. Sliding your hands to cup his cheek, you inspect the fairness of his skin and note the feverish blush was long gone. A bummer, when he looked so cute with it in the first place.
“Guess you’re fine now too.” With a light pinch, you find your jest from before and say, “You were blushing so much I nearly mistook you for one of the tomatoes from Twinkle Toys.”
Xavier’s nose scrunches at that, brushing away your teasing with a shake of his head. As swift as light, his arms tuck underneath your bottom and hoist you into the air—much to your surprise, a gasp escaping your throat.
You steady your hands atop his shoulders, squeezing them in turn. “What are you—“
“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” he says calmly. His head inclines to the bed of flowers briefly—though, his azure rings bore into you with unwavering interest, bright and tender. “Who knows what’ll happen if we never leave.”
You hum in agreement, leaning down to press your forehead to his. “Should we ask Jeremiah about these?” He is a florist after all, only one of the few you were familiar with. “I’m sure he knows a thing or two.“
“Nah.” Xavier touches his nose to yours in greeting. His eyes twinkle as he says, “Unless you want him to find out how you were on top of me and—mmph? Mmph, mmm.”
You silence his tell-tale with a kiss, to which he happily accepts all the same. Looks like you’ll have to table the thought for another time. He chases your lips even when you part, and only a finger could barrier his jutted lip.
“Later,” you promise. “We have a schedule ahead of us, you know. And uh,” your eyes trail downwards, noting a particular patch on his slacks. It registers the feeling between your own legs, to which you sigh and say, “We should make a quick stop home, too.”
“Alright.” Xavier nods, getting the message. With another bounce, he keeps you in his raised embrace and begins to walk along a flowery path.
“By the way.” He says off-handedly amidst the trek.
You hum. “Yes?”
“I promise not to tell Jeremiah how hot you looked on top of me.” “Xavier! Don’t you dare!”
#kinktober#love and deepspace#xavier#xavier smut#xavier x reader#xavier x you#lads x reader#lnd x reader#lnds x reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace xavier#lads xavier#lnd xavier#lnds xavier#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#lnd smut#lnds smut#love and deepspace scenarios#love and deepspace fic#gklnd#grandisknight fics#grandisknight kinktober
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Two Good Reasons, Part 1
Summary: Andy was supposed to be in the past. There's where he should have stayed.
Pairings: Andy Barber
Rating: explicit
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, mentions of teenage sex, unprotected sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, degradation, body issues, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, creampie, cheating? 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.3K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
The woman in front of you babbles on a few more seconds before you look at your computer confused. You are in over your head, and don’t know where to begin. Maybe lying on your resume was a terrible idea, and you were better suited for the coffee shop. They didn’t let you choose what hours you wanted to work, and you needed that. At least at this office you are given that luxury.
You were underqualified, and a kept woman of sorts. “Ma’am,” you glance up at her quickly. She has kind eyes, and an upturned nose. She was just a bit younger than you, and you want to trust her, but there’s that prickling feeling inside of you that makes you not trust younger women. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
You shake your head no, ashamedly. “I’m a fast learner though.”
“So was I,” she takes a moment to look around the office. You are the only two around, so you’re not sure why she’s so concerned. “Listen, take your time. It’s not that hard, but unfortunately there is a layout to things. You’re here, and I kinda like you. Mr. Drysdale isn’t a terrible human, and you’re at the front desk. So all in all you’ll be fine.”
You thank her, and nod your head. How the hell did you wind up here? Not just in your situation but this stupid place. You knew nobody, and now you’re left wondering if that was the point. That you wouldn’t be able to reach out to someone for help. You had no inner circle. No one to just vent to. It’s how he liked it. And what did that cost you? You look down at your left hand, and get angry all over again. You were past feeling sorry for yourself. Past begging and pleading for a different outcome. He hit you where it hurt.
Now you’re doing what is right for everyone. You’re becoming independent. Nothing is going to stop you. You’re not going to rely on a man. Or allow one to make you feel less about yourself. You’re going to make them proud. You’re going to…
Shit.
Your head ducks down quickly as a tall man walks through the door. He gives a quick glance your way, but you miss the crooked smile. You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t acknowledge his existence.
He bustles past you, directly to Mr. Drysdale’s office, and you finally stand up. Moving to jump in front of him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barber, you’ll have to schedule an appointment with him.”
“So you do remember me?” How could you ever forget one of the most perfect human beings you’d ever met. You’re everything. Every first you ever had was with him. Every plan that you could ever make was with Andy. Everything was Andy’s. And that’s when he was younger.
His hair was lighter then, and he didn’t have that full delicious beard. He definitely didn’t seem this tall, or broad. Or scrumptiously thick. He was just a boy then, but now he is everything you knew he would be. He walks like he has so much power. Still commanding a room, and even the breath that you breathe, he steals from you.
You exhale slowly, nodding your head. What do you even say to this man? Quick look at his hand. He doesn’t have a ring, and now you feel invasive. But he’s got his hand on display. “I don’t remember you this quiet,” he smiles again.
He’s just as beautiful as you remember. Years ago the two of you had named all your children. You’re sure you have it tucked away somewhere. You even had your wedding planned. You had everything until he moved off. Distance became more than just the miles away that you were between you. It became the lack of communication. Then no communication. And as much as it pained you, you knew that he was gone, and he was forever going to be the one that got away.
Living a few decades had done his body good. He was — immaculate. Much taller than you remember. But apart from his physical appearance he still has that ability to make your stomach feel like mush. Like everything in this world ceases to exist because Andy Barber is around. You’re not a child anymore, but he still feels like he can stop time. Because when the two of you are together it’s the way that it was meant to be.
”Doe? You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again. You are sure you look like the biggest dork, standing in front of him to block the way to Mr. Drysdale’s office.
“You remember?” That little nickname was your undoing. How Andy managed to come up with it, he never told you. But it’s so soft and shy, something you weren’t then.
“There’s nothing I don’t remember with you,” why did that sound so sensual? It has to all be in your brain because you’re lonely. And he’s Andy. “You look good,” okay, now he’s lying. You look like a hot mess. Your makeup is mostly smeared on. Your clothes are things you found at a thrift store. Your eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. And your weight fluctuates too often for you to keep up with. Depression can do that to a person.
“I look — nothing — you just — better.”
“You never could take a compliment,” he gives a wink, and takes one more step towards Mr. Drysdale’s office. “Is something wrong?”
“You need an appointment to meet with him.”
Andy looks down at you with a smile. You swear he’s taller than he used to be. You can almost feel the way his fingers would dig into your skin as you — stop it. You’re at work. And he’s Andy. “Ransom, get your ass out here.”
You hear a chair roll back, and are irritated that Andy is going to make it look like you aren’t doing your job. Mr. Drysdale opens the door, standing in the doorway with both hands on his hips and shrugs. “You’re about five minutes late.”
“Your secretary has been keeping me. For good reason though. Maybe you should let her know who the District Attorney is,” your jaw goes slack as you look at him. He did it. He really fucking did it. Next stop, judge. “Doe, care to join me for some coffee afterwards, and you and I can catch up?”
“I can’t,” it’s not a complete lie. You can’t just go and get coffee randomly. Things have to be planned out. You have people you have to call.
“She can’t,” Mr. Drysdale agrees, opening the door wider. “Stop trying to steal my office managers. He’s not hiring. He’ll lie to you, constantly. I pay better, and have better hours.”
“I’m the DA though, and you’re just the…”
“Shut up, and get in here. We’re not talking about it. But seriously, don’t listen to him. He’s a dangerous flirt,” Andy is definitely dangerous. And that terrifies you. He shakes his head with a smile, but you know the truth. Andy is poison to you. The best tasting poison. You’d find yourself falling without even trying. Because he was once your everything. And then you both grew up.
He darkens the doorway again, and you look back down at your computer. This is getting a bit ridiculous. You are trying to hold strong, and he is doing anything but that. He is a parasite sucking the life out of you until you fold to his desires. You’re not doing it. Losing Andy in the past was hell. Losing him now will be much more difficult. You’re an independent woman, goddammit.
“Doe?”
“You don’t have a meeting with Mr. Drysdale today. And tonight we’re closing early so people can enjoy the office party,” a party that was designed to celebrate another year of Andy being the DA. It was all very self gratifying for him. “Mr. Barber.”
“I don’t want you calling me that,” you glance up at him before returning back to your computer to just stare. You can’t even pretend to be working because you’re not. You’re just avoiding him and those looks, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Maybe calling me my childhood nickname? Nobody does that anymore, Mr. Barber,” he rolls his eyes before leaning over your desk. He’s too close. You can count the freckles that splay out over his nose, and smell his intoxicating cologne. The one you wish you knew what it was so you could be the girl that sprays a shirt and you can get a fill of him without having him. “Andy, what do you want?”
“For you to stop fighting my invitations to coffee. Or the office party. Or to dinner. Unless you have a perfectly good reason to tell me no,” he glances down at your left hand, and you feel sick. Would things be different a year ago? Would you still entertain Andy this long? The ego boost is working nice for your fragile self esteem.
But the way he looks at your left hand hungrily has you ready to actually vomit. This isn’t where you saw your life. Working in the Assistant District Attorney’s office while the DA barges in and compliments you, and asks you out on a daily basis. No. You were supposed to be keeping a house. And making sure your husband had dinner when he came home. And now you’re in fucking Newton and alone. Sort of.
Your tanline from your finger has since faded, and so should your conflicting feelings. Life wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. You know you sound like a child, but your dreams have been shattered so many times, and now here’s the first one waltzing back into your life asking for damn coffee. Or dinner. Or the office party. Next week will be something new.
“What if I just want to get drunk?” You had the means to go to the party. The means to do whatever you want. You didn’t have anyone relying on you tonight.
“Then I heavily suggest you let me make sure you get home safely and that nobody takes advantage of you.”
Do not allow this man to make that sound sweet. It’s not. It’s just basic human kindness. Stun him. Make him wonder and worry. Make him — want. Not just want, make him beg for the taste of you, “What if I want someone to take advantage of me?”
His eye brow cocks up, and his mouth turns up into a crooked smile. Andy’s knuckles bleach with how tight his fist is at the not so subtle suggestion. Good. You affected him as much as he’s been making you weak. “Any suggestions?”
There it is. The possessive Andy. The one that wants to let everyone know that you are his, and you are off limits. You want him to tell everyone that you belong to him. You want him to claim you in ways that the two of you feared when you were younger. You want him to own you. And you want him to leave you alone. One night. Just to prove to yourself you still got it, and then you want to live your life.
“Sweetheart, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you. You’re too precious for that.”
“And what if I want you to?” He growls. Actually growls. A rumble rolls up his chest, and he grits his teeth. His jaw pulses with desire. “Just one night.”
“There’s never been just one night between us,” you scoff. He’s making things difficult.
“You’ll just have to make it that way,” he wouldn’t want your baggage anyways. The two of you are adults now. You can’t be running around acting like teenagers and fucking everywhere you land. You have responsibilities and a job. A life. And…
“If you think you can say no to me after one night,” he challenges. Prick.
“It’s what it will have to be.”
He slams the two of your bodies against the door, and you shudder. Arching your back to bring your body closer to his, and his meaty hands slap over your ass. Sliding down the spheres before lifting you up, and you hungrily wrap your legs around his waist. Bringing him to your core, ripping your dress, but sighing at feeling his bulge next to you. Thankfully it was only ten dollars at GoodWill. Focus!
He grinds his hips into your aching body, and your vision blurs at the sensation. Head pointing up to the heavens while you offer up your sacrifice to Andy. Gasping for air, and his mouth traces down your neck. Tasting and nibbling your heated glaze, and your fingers make work of his button up shirt.
“You’re eager,” he rolls himself into your center, and you gasp at how hard he is. These slacks leave nothing to the imagination. You can see the perfect outline of him, and you need him naked now.
“Shut up, and fuck me,” removing your back off the door, he carries you down the hallway. Clawing at the back of your dress, and it’s fine, it’s already ripped. Tearing at the material with the need to only get you naked, so he can have you.
Andy drops your back onto the bed, untangling his arms so he can remove the rest of your dress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some sweats for you,” you wish he would stop talking.
“Fuck me!”
Standing up, and off your body, you hate the loss of him, but enjoy him pulling and tugging on your underwear. Disposing of your bra, and he holds your legs open wide. Tilting his head to get a good look at your spread and weeping cunt. “Mmm, you look good enough to eat. Doe, you’re prettier than I remember.”
Why is he lying? Stop staring. It’s making you feel uncomfortable. You don’t have the body of a teenager anymore. Time is cruel, and the longer he stares, the more you want to just walk out of here. “Fuck,” his eyes roll in the back of his head when he enters a finger into your warmth. “Just as tight.”
Lying again. He probably says this about all his fuck buddies. You sit up in the bed and start jerking off every bit of clothing on his back. Making way to his pants, and you slowly undo his zipper. Peeling away his boxers, and you moan when his fat, thick, veiny cock bounces up in your face. “It’s yours. Go on, and take it,” Andy watches you with so much enthusiasm as you lick his precum off his slit.
Mewling at the musky taste that can only be described as Andy Barber. Your body liquifies and arousal pools in your core. You kiss down his shaft, keeping your eyes on him. There’s a lot of things that time can change. Your ability to suck a cock like a pro is one of them. Getting to the base of his length, your tongue twirls around the velvety steel, and you trace kisses over his sack. Keeping your eyes on him as you suck one into your mouth, and he lurches.
“You’re a goddess,” he groans, and you move over to the other. Massaging the testicle with your tongue before letting it fall out. Laying your tongue flat, you trace that delectable vein up his glorious dick before you reach his spongy head, and you swallow him. You try to swallow him whole, but come short. He somehow became bigger.
Wrapping both hands around his base, you bob on him. Gagging and slurping up the wetness before his hands grab both sides of your head, and you let your hands drop to your side, “Are you wanting me to fuck your mouth?”
Hollowing out your cheeks, you place your hands to grip onto his toned thighs. “You’re such a slut for me,” he says before his hips piston into you. Hitting the back of your throat like a man on a mission, and you let him take it. His pleasurable sounds are better than you remember. Maybe he’s just more comfortable. He’s older. More experienced. Not as timidly as the young man he was.
He halts his ministrations before pulling himself out of your throat, and you long to taste his cock again. His hands go under your armpits before he throws you up the bed. His wide body keeps your legs spread, and gripping his base, he runs it up and down your slit. Gathering up your juices. “Andy!”
“Shh, I’m enjoying seeing you spread open and begging for me to fuck you. Use your manners,” no. You can leave at any time. But you don’t want to. You want him to use you like his own personal sex doll. “Don’t be such a fucking brat. Say, please.”
“Please.”
“Is that all?” Oh, who is being the brat now? “Go on. Say it. My cock does want to sink into your warmth, and have you quaking and spread so wide. Keep you full and…”
“Please, fuck me, daddy,” the whine of your voice has him snapping his hips. Plunging into your needy cunt in one move, and you reel. Fingers gripping onto the bed sheets, and seeing stars with the depths that Andy reached. “You’re huge!” You gasp for air.
“So you’re saying when we were younger?”
“Not this — oh god — big!”
“I always loved it when you would go dumb on feeling me inside of you,” this cock is dangerous. It’s what all fantasies are made out of. Long, but not too long. But so fucking thick. Stretching you so wide that your toes curl. Back lifting off the bed because you can’t get enough of him. When was the last time you felt this satisfied by a human? The answer to that is depressing.
His movements are deliberate. They’re smooth like your body was made for him. He wouldn’t have to do anything, but just let you warm him. Keep him close to you forever. One night. Maybe a second night. No. Don’t fall for him. Don’t dream about his cock. He doesn’t need your mess of a life.
He pumps into you so slow, and you’re wrecked. This is better than you remember it. But you won’t allow your head to imagine that now is yours and Andy’s time. You won’t allow yourself to get worked up. You were teenage lovers that drifted apart, and you’re doing this one more time. That is all. Not more than that.
“Doe,” god, his voice. It tingles through your body, and you look up at him. He says your real name, smiling down at you. His voice dropped a few octaves with age, “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”
“Don’t pre…”
“Aye! That happened one time. And it was our first time,” you can’t help but smile. You both were each other’s first, and it was less than stellar. It was raw, and unexpected. But you did it together. “You like this, huh?”
“That obvious?” He stabs into you with a quick hard thrust, and your mouth droops open. Fuck. He’s good. He’s too good. He’s too right. Does this ever have to end? Can he just stay seated inside of you forever? That’s not really the way you want to live life, but it’s a nice quick and fleeting thought.
It’s almost too slow and intimate. Like the way he’s fucking is more worshiping you and promising you another time tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. And you’re fighting that with all the resistance you can muster. You need him to fuck you and fuck you so hard and deep that it has a lasting effects and you won’t need him again. Even though you know that’s a lie.
“Andy, I…” his expression is pained, like he knows what you’re asking. “Please, don’t make this difficult.”
“I don’t want to. I want to make you mine,” the sentiment is too good to be true, and you hit on his shoulders. Letting him fall to his back before you saddle on up. Grabbing the base of his cock, you sink down over him, and fuck him. Use him for your pleasure. Bucking on top of him like you were made to do this. Your hands press hard into his toned chest. He got so much better with age, and then you are just you. Just plain. Just a woman that nobody would want in the daylight.
Getting yourself off is easy since he’s being a vocal man. You’ll let your legs be rubbed raw if it means you get to take him fully and to the hilt. It’s gotta last. It just has to. If life were different and it was easier, you could make this happen. You should tell him. Let him know the truth that changed your world. “I’m not able get pregnant,” keep it simple and easy. He doesn’t need to know the details.
You don’t know how he did it, but he has you off his body. Pushing your front onto the bed, and keeping you on your knees when he crawls behind you. Hands tightly on your hips as he slides all the way home. The only sound in the room is wet skin slapping on each other and needy hungry moans. Reaching under your stomach he lifts your back to his front as he pounds into you.
“Then let me fuck you like I’m going to breed you,” you whimper out his name, and an arm wraps around your neck. Holding you tight against him and adding pressure to the soft column. Cutting off a bit of your airflow, and making you dizzy. “Let me fuck my seed so deep in your belly, and make you mine.”
The words are so sweet and still so vulgar. “Yes! For real this time,” a few too many accidents in the past led to pregnancy scares. You don’t want an accident. You want him in your belly. You need him there. “Fuck me harder!”
He fucks you so hard that you know your going to bruise. The way he grips onto your soft curves tells you how badly he wants to keep you with him. “Look at me. Doe! Look at me!”
With furrowed brows you turn your head to stare into his eyes. “We’re about to come, and you’re going to keep your eyes on me, okay?” You nod your head as your orgasm builds in your belly. Bubbling and frothing just below the surface like a hot deadly volcano. Rumbling below the surface as he ruts into you like his life depends on it.
“Don’t take your eyes off me. Swear it!”
“I swear it,” one more slap into you, and your volcano erupts. Walls clamping around his cock. Placing him in a vice grip as thick ribbons of cum spurt inside of you. So much cream that you feel bloated, and so satiated. “Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes start to get heavy.
“Only a short nap. We’re going again. And again.”
“But I said…”
“You said, just for tonight. Not just one time,” you didn’t care to argue. You revel in the feeling of him in your belly as he starts to pull out. “Can I look?”
“What?” How does something so filthy seem sweet now. He wants to see himself inside of you.
“I’ve always wanted to look at you leaking without fear,” giggling you nod your head, and roll to your back. Spreading your legs open wide, while Andy settles in between your thighs on his belly, watching so closely and with bated breath as pearls of his seed drip out of you. “Perfect,” he hums, and starts fingering it back inside of you. “If I make it stick, you’re mine.”
“You won’t,” he hears the pain in your voice as you respond, and crawls up your body. Placing the softest most tender kiss up your imperfect body. Showing you love you can no longer give yourself. He ends on your lips, and kisses you so passionately that it takes your breath away. He won’t. And you can’t ever be his.
Andy looks at his text message from Ransom, making sure this was your house. Suburbs. This didn’t strike him as your home. But Ransom assured him it was. He walks up the steps to your home, and stumbles back.
“Andy? Why are you here?” Scott Huffman asks. A little girl clings to his leg, and she looks up at him smiling. “Aubrey, please, baby, get off daddy’s leg,” Andy looks at the little girl oddly. She has your eyes. “Go check on Suede.”
“Bubba!” She screams, getting off her dad’s leg. And he steps back. This is wrong. This can’t be right.
“What are you doing here?” Scott asks again. He grimaces when a loud bang reverberates inside the house, and he looks at his watch annoyed. “God, she’s late. I should have known she would be. Andy?”
“Umm,” he holds onto your clutch that you left at his house. Looking at Scott confused. He says your name, and Scott looks at him accusatory. “She left her — here.”
“How do you know my wife?”
“I’ve got to go,” Andy says, shoving the clutch into Scott’s arm as he walks away. No wonder you said that he couldn’t have you. You pranced around Ransom’s office without a ring. You trapped him. No. That’s not really the word for it. You said you couldn’t get pregnant, probably because you had your tubes tied after two kids.
What the fuck? How could you lie to him like that? He knows things didn’t end the way they should have. But cheating on your husband is another thing. Scott wasn’t really in his department, but he is aware of the lawyer. Ruthless. Come to think of it, he didn’t wear a ring either. He didn’t want to be in whatever sick bullshit you and your husband were playing.
He wants you. Wanted. Wants. He doesn’t know. And it doesn’t matter what he wants. Because you’re going to come home and be the perfect wife to your husband and at least two kids. And he’s going home alone.
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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai
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Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)
So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)
Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)
Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).
Here’s the beginning of the fic:
Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved.
So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.
“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.
“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”
“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.
He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.
“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”
Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows
“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.
“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.
“You mean Batman?” He chanced.
The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.
“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”
The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.
“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”
“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”
“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”
That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”
The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”
A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.
“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.
“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet. I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”
“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.
The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”
And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.”
“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.
“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.
“I told you,��he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?”
Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.
“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.
Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.
He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.
“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.”
“No thanks.,” Tim answered.
The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.
The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.
When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before.
“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.
Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit.
Oh, no. Oh no no no.
A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“
With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.
“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“
Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”
But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.
Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful.
When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince.
He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls.
And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line.
Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.
Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have.
The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best.
He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.
“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”
As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.
“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”
The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.
“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”
Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?
“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “
The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”
If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.
Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.
“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.
Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.
He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body.
Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet. So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.
“Are you ok?”
And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown.
On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.
Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.
“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”
Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.
“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”
There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.
“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.
Prince?
The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”
“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.
“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.
“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.
Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”
#Yep so this is the beginning beginning#Tim drake#danny fenton#dead tired#dc x dp#dp x dc#roxpox#roxpoxwrote#bisexual character
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Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)
IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE
Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.
Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)
Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.
It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.
4 months ago
After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right.
“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly.
“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.
“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”
“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it.
“Herston, have you ever been?”
“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are.
“I’m Kyra by the way.” She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.
“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”
“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there.
2 months ago
You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh.
A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.”
“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing.
“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,
“You like her? Like, like like her?”
You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?”
Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes.
“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”.
“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds.
Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.
“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,
“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics.
“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”
“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced.
“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”
“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.
“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes.
“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,
“Whatever. You guys suck.”
2 weeks ago
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality.
“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.
You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.
You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.
“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing.
“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.”
“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.
“Who?”
She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”
“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.
“Only one way to find out.”
Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist.
“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds.
“So?” Kyra prompts softly.
“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug.
“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.
Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself.
An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.
“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.
“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”
“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes.
“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.”
Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.
“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?”
“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year.
After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well.
Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?”
You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?”
“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes.
She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.”
“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction.
“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby.
Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?”
“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.
After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy.
“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you.
“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean.
“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?”
Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer.
Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.”
Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.”
You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely.
In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah.
“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her.
“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore.
Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you.
“What a fucking legend!”
“Banger! Absoloute banger!”
“Mate, you’re actually insane.”
“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”
Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.
“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.
Present Day
The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London.
Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”
Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously.
“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom.
Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.
“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure.
“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.
“Wait, did you just say you love me?”
You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers,
“Y/N?”
WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses.
“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.
“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.
“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”
Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly.
“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.
“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response.
“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest.
“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss.
“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.
“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”
“Asshole.”
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#kyra cooney cross x reader#kyra cooney cross#arsenal wfc x reader#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#auswnt#auswnt x reader#matildas#matildas x reader
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Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days
They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.
The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.
You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.
This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).
Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.
The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.
Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.
Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.
Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!
#rwby#jaune arc#weiss schnee#rwby white knight#white knight#rwby whiteknight#whiteknight#jaune arc x weiss schnee#jaune x weiss#yang xiao long#golden oreo#yang x jaune#yang x weiss#yang x jaune x weiss#blake belladonna#ruby rose#qrow branwen#sort of#shipping#comics#rwby memes#memes#greenlightvolume10#rwby volume 10#rwby news#vacuo#jaune's guitar#needs a come back#disney#aladdin
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❥ masterlist / navigation ❥
-> pairing; james potter x reader
-> wc; 1.5k
-> warnings; death, descriptions of grief
-> a/n; I wrote this with Timeless by Taylor Swift playing in the background. It's not some immaculate piece of literature, but I'm kind of attached to it now even if I'm not as proud of it as some other works of mine. It's warm and painful at the same time, so try it and I hope you enjoy. Lots of love
Timeless | James Potter
As you’re looking through the freshly developed pictures in the dark room, tears fill your eyes. You’re staring at James Potter, your James, just woken up, wearing crooked glasses and a very fresh bed head. His hand is grabbing towards the camera while a beaming smile peeks behind it. It was the first time you saw him with bad hair. And the guy didn’t even actually look bad, his embarrassment just motivated you to tease him because of it. In reality, he still looked amazing. He would never have believed you if you told him though. The man could not be confident if his hair wasn’t ready to be pictured and put onto a prestigious magazine cover. You grabbed your camera as fast as you could and captured the moment.
You eye the vintage camera lying next to the door on an old wooden table. The camera itself is dusty from being hidden away in the corner of your dresser all these years. You put it there because you couldn’t bear the pain of being remembered. The camera that captured some of the most wonderful memories you hold, which are now some of the most painful ones.
The next picture is of the two of you sitting on the edge of the porch from your first official house. You’re wearing old dungarees and have paint streaks on your cheek and all over your clothes. James is staring at you while clearly wetting his finger to try to get some paint off of your face. Sirius is standing behind you, making an ugly face while staring at the happy couple. You have a big smile on you and dangle a small key in front of you. You remember Lily yelling “Say “We just moved in!” for the picture!” from behind the camera and Remus commenting that there would be no way the picture would turn out good if you all actually said that. James naturally wasn’t paying attention and you laughed because of the nasty sounds Sirius was making, pretending the lovey dovey Potter scene was sickening.
These pictures all are some form of key moments in your relationship. In your loving relationship with James, as well as the beautiful friendships within this group of people. You and Lily were always the ones with a camera in their bags, ready to capture whatever you felt was worth capturing. At the time, the guys made a point of it to avoid the camera, just because there were already a million pictures of them and they did not see the need for any more. Any moment either you or Lily moved to grab your camera, at least one of them would sigh and mumble something like “This is some kind of weird obsession” or “Are you planning on selling pictures of me since I’m that stunning?” The last remark being made by James who could actually imagine this being a real scenario. They would go to the greatest lengths to avoid the subtle lenses of your camera. Once it even led to Sirius falling off of his broom during a friendly game of quidditch because he tried to dive away from you and your camera.
Now, they would understand why you both tried to capture as many wonderful moments as you could. Because you and Lily were more aware than anyone that you would not all make it out alive. Sadly enough you were proven right.
As you flip through a stack of newly developed pictures, from the finally freed camera, you see one that you do not remember being made. It is you and Lily sitting next to James and Sirius. Remus must have made this picture. You are all sitting on the same side of the table, squished together onto a corner couch for the photo, and you are pointing at your hand, which is aimed toward the camera. Lily has a tear on her cheek and is smiling brightly, while Sirius is faking a shocked look. His mouth exaggeratingly wide open with his hands in front of it and big surprised eyes. On your hand a small shimmer comes off of a candy wrapper, wrapped around your ring finger. James kisses you on the cheek. It’s the night of your proposal. With all the joy of the night, you must have forgotten that Remus actually forced you all to make this picture. Remus, of all people, who hated photographing and being photographed.
“This is a moment that actually needs capturing” He had proudly said.
No one could have told you all that this would be one of the last times that you would be together while only laughing and having the times of your lives. After this, Voldemort would start winning. He would make you, Lily and Remus afraid of walking around in Diagon Alley, thinking that anyone passing by could want you to be gone. Could judge you for being born the way you were. And you see the difference gradually in the pictures.
One of the last ones in the stack is a photo of only you and James. Lily had made the picture, you clearly remember this.
You and James are looking each other in the eyes, your hands are holding his soft cheeks. One of his hands is gripping onto your wrist, the other the back of your neck. You can see the swollen red eyes and tear stains on your clothes. Your white dress has soft droplets on it and James’ hair's a mess. He didn’t even care what it looked like in the picture. You had just gotten back from the courthouse where they hadn’t allowed you two to be married. James told you on the ride back that you will find a way, which is what Lily captured. She captured the promise that James immediately fulfilled, while you were both scared out of your minds and sobbing over the time you found yourself living in.
So, when the five of you came back to the house, the first and only house you ever bought, James read you his vows and you read yours to him. They were beautiful, honest, and true. Nothing was ever more truthful than the words you shared with each other in that moment.
And that’s when the last picture was taken. Euphemia and Fleamont had come over for the ceremony and said that this was a moment you would want to remember your whole lives.
“Even if it feels like a beautiful tragedy now, someday it will simply be beautiful to you, my love. And for that moment, you want to be able to look back at it and remember the love and life you had and started together.” Euphemia had said, and nothing she said was ever incorrect.
You and James insisted on having the picture be of all five of you. So with the two of you in the middle, Sirius and Remus next to James and you next to Lily, Fleamont made the last picture of all of you together in a room. You called it ‘the family picture'.
Soon after, the war officially started. You all fought for the Order until the bitter end, which sadly meant the end of your family. James found his place with the stars first, it was a quick and painless death, alone on a mission. Remus and Sirius walked into the end hand in hand, ready to commit to another life together. Lily and you thankfully found your way back to each other after the chaos and destruction left behind by the war, having fundamentally changed in this traumatic time only made your friendship stronger. But you both never were able to look forward. You hid cameras in wardrobes but stalled out the already printed pictures on the mantle, halls and rooms. You lived looking at all the memories pretending they were someone else’s. A life you could not remember living. A life where you would end up with just the two of you. You both talked about them like they were here, never in the past tense. You could not cope with the loss of a family that was as dear to you and Lily as this chosen one.
Now that she died and you were the last one left, you were ready. You developed the last pictures, pictures of you all in your beginning to late twenties, mourning the people you once were. Loving their smiles, their gestures, their beings. You mourned the love of your life with all the love you had left. And not just James. You visited all of their graves weekly, laying down flowers and other things they loved. On Remus’ grave, there’s a stack of books now. Lily now has the old camera and flowers, Sirius a packet of cigarettes and records he listened so frequently to that they didn’t work anymore. And James got you. You sat there every other day, talking to him and telling about whatever happened or was on your mind. Until you joined the rest of your family.
All that’s left now of this life you lived is a cardboard box filled with pictures of the life you’ve made.
#max writes#marauders era#james potter fanfic#james potter x reader#james potter#james fleamont potter#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#prongsie#james potter imagine#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders#marauders x reader#james potter blurb#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x reader fluff#james potter x you fluff#james potter x reader angst#james potter x you angst#james potter x y/n fluff#james potter x y/n#james potter x y/n angst
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can we get a small preview of taking your crown 2? 🙏
Of course! 18
“Where's this special room then?” Mapi smirked as she drank from her glass.
You laughed, giving her a wink. “Down the hallway.”
“Hmm. What room?” Alexia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked between you and Mapi.
“She has a special room.” Mapi swirled the ice in her glass.
“Oh.” Alexia’s eyes widened in surprise, suddenly looking a little timid. She gulped before she took another sip of her vodka.
“Do you wanna see it?”
“Yes!” Mapi shouted excitedly.
You looked at Alexia who still looked a little shy, but the curiosity in her eyes was evident.
“Sí.” She whispered before taking another sip.
You led them down the corridor to the last door. You turned the handle and turned on the lights.
Both girls' mouths gaped open as they took in the room in front of them.
“Wow.” Mapi smirked, taking a slow step inside.
The room glowed in a deep shade of purple and red. The decor was a bit different to your room at your place of work, this room had a lot more on show.
In the middle stood a replica of the king sized bed in the room you first met Alexia in. To the left was a purple leathered rack, with an arrangement of paddle boards attached to the wall. To the side of that wall sat a black leathered table that resembled a massage table, but this particular one had handcuffs attached at the top and bottom.
To the right of the room stood a floor length mirror that covered the entire wall, red strips of light framed the outside of it, giving it an almost red light district feel. Another wall had an abundant array of different toys, restraints, leashes, collars, and whips. Some for pleasure, some for pain, but even the painful ones were someone's pleasure.
Closets to the door and your most impressive bit of equipment, there stood the St Andrews cross. Even though it looked like a torture device (I mean, it kind of was) it was surprisingly really comfy. Imported from Germany, stitched with real Italian leather, and formed with Canadian wood, it was your most prized possession, a beautiful piece of equipment or some would even say art.
The room was impressive to say the least.
“You have good taste.” Mapi said absently mindedly as she stroked the thick wooden post of the bed.
“Thank you. I’m proud of it.” You said honestly before taking a sip of your drink.
You looked over at the blonde who still hadn't said anything, but she didn't need to, her face said it all.
Alexia felt a chill run up her spine as her eyes drank in the room. The familiar smell of vanilla instantly brought her back to the first night she had with you and so far the only night. The memories of you and herself flooded her mind, it was as if she could feel the paddle on her skin, the hot wax, your thick strap, your talented tongue.
For the first time she regretted allowing Mapi to join her on the trip.
Her fingers nervously twitched around her glass, as she imagined her and yourself using the room for its exact purpose.
You watched Alexia’s thoughtful eyes. You could see the cogs turning in her head. A shy smile crept on her lips as she caught you looking at her. She looked like she had been caught red handed, even though her dirty thoughts were in her head and sadly not being played out right now.
She nodded and awkwardly cleared her throat. “It's beautiful. I-I like it.” She took a gulp of her drink, you didn't miss the way her cheeks turned a shade of pink.
You felt your own skin heat up, picturing the blonde in all the different positions you could have her in. It was as if you both could see the other's exact thoughts. You didn't realise you were staring until Mapi cleared her throat.
“Aye, come on! I’m only here for two nights. Can you not control yourselves until I leave?” The brunette looked between you and Alexia.
“Did you bring headphones, Mapi?” Alexia asked, but still looking at you.
“Sí?”
“Good, you'll need them tonight.”
You couldn't stop the embarrassing noise you made as you choked on your drink.
—------------------
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A message to all the assorted unscrupulous undead: Beware the Ides of March.
To everyone else: Grab your kukri blades, your bowie knives, your stakes, your bone saws, and whatever else you have on hand to appropriately accessorize with your new copy of The Vampyres.
The book is out! Loose! Running rampant and bloodstained through the terrains of eBook and paperback alike!
My beautiful little baby, toddling into the literary world to deliver havoc unto the dastardly bastards of the revenant realm. I’m so proud. (And so happy to feel the stress headache finally start to crack.)
Now that The Vampyres is out in the open, a brief FAQ under the cut:
Where can I get the eBook?
Check out the Universal Book Link (UBL) here:
It’ll show you all the places you can grab a virtual vampyre by the throat.
Where can I get the paperback?
For folks in ‘murrica, I’d say hit up Bookshop.org to go and grab it from your physical store of choice:
You can also just search The Vampyres C.R. Kane and see the waterfall of options. Not sure of the exact timeline, but it should be more widely available in the coming weeks. At least hereabouts:
Pictured: Places to potentially purchase a paperback.
Can I get it at my library?
If you ask for it, yes! You’ll need the ISBNs when filling out your library’s request form, so:
eBook ISBN: 9798218374594
Paperback ISBN: 9798218374587
What’s the status on that paperback cover business?
Current status is still ???
At least in the sense that I’m not sure what version of the book cover you might get at the moment. Original matte? Temporary glossy? Updated matte that’s here to stay? No idea at the moment. My self-publishing page shows the update’s confirmed, but the online stores are still using the first version as the preview image and I’m not sure when that gets swapped out. At least the books are all print-on-demand, so whatever you order, just know it’s not coming from some thrown-away backup heap. It’s fresh from the book oven press.
Anything else I need to know?
First, reviews are extremely welcome! I am running on negative budget when it comes to waving my little flag to announce that I Made a Scary Vampire Book, so I’m really relying on word-of-mouth if I want it to actually get its head above water. Leaving stars and comments wherever you can, be it in the online stores, the Goodreadses or Smashwordses or whatever else, would be a big help.
(Really though, I can and will dissolve into a puddle of relieved ego if I see so much as one (1) Nice Comment on Tumblr, my cesspool of choice.*)
*This is not hyperbole. I can count on one hand how many PROMOTION © ™ posts I’ve made on Twitter and have fingers left over. This novella is tailored to my fellow fiendish bookworms on here.
Second, to those coming by this stuff for the first time and don’t know what all this hoopla is about, a preview of my novella, The Vampyres, is available on my website. Give it a gander if you want to see under-appreciated classic supernatural bogeymen dropped into their own horror story.
Thirdly, lastly, vitally: thank you.
The Vampyres is a beautiful accident that came together out of an itch to rattle something out just for myself; a break from a bloated piece that had turned into a chore which burned me out and threw away the fun of scribbling. A lightweight read that saved me from being crushed by a cinderblock.
By the same token, the people on here have shouldered me up and out of the creative pit of thinking ‘This is all for nothing.’ For all that I talk of how much I’m powered by spite and the desire to Read a Specific Thing only to realize I Have to Write That Thing First, I’d be a liar if I said the kindness and excitement of the folks who’ve been reading my nonsense for (holy hell) TWO YEARS in the wake of the first big Dracula Daily surge didn’t have a major role in getting this thing done.
I did make The Vampyres for me. But it’s for you guys too. For everyone who saw one of my rambles or little fictions and spoke up to say, I love this! I was thinking this! I wanted this! Finally, finally!
When you crack open the cover for the first time, on a screen or in your hands, I want you to know I’m thinking Thank You at you. I hope you enjoy all the horrors inside.
Postscript:
If you want more info on other stuff I'm tinkering with, check out my website here:
#the vampyres#on its way to join the stab-a-thon#my writing#the vampyre#dracula#horror#holy shit here it is you guys
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eli i’m having dirty bookworm thoughts again… they can at least break me from my reading slump not only make me more addicted to sunghoon 🤨 DOES SUNGHOON EVEN READ why am i coming up with these kind of ideas 😭
i’m thinking 💭 you’re writing a romance novel with a few sex scenes sprinkled in there and when sunghoon finds out about them after you give him to read your first draft he gets jealous?? you’ve spend so much time thinking about these things what if you were horny and you touched yourself after writing them out? and you didn’t tell him a thing?? he decides to do every single intimate scene from your book to you tonight but TIMES better 🙃
sunghoon is really going to be your bias sweetie i think, you're constantly losing your mind over him (but don't ever stop, i love it). it's so funny to me how we're always associating him with books lmaoo but i'm here for it and i love to write it everytime.
SUNGHOON has always been very supportive of you and every project you started. so when you announced that you had been writing some novels and wanted to get serious with that, he couldn't have been more proud of you.
he was so attentive to your every need whenever you started another writing session. he brings you tea or coffee when you're thirsty and cooks for you when he knows you've spent the whole day working on your novels and didn't eat. but sunghoon was always there to take care of you and help you out of your writing blocks by giving you idea, or reading your texts to help you improve.
so when you told him that you wanted to start writing a romance novel, he was all in helping you even if he teased you a little bit by reminding you not to describe him too much as the perfect boyfriend. but apart from that, he doesn't try to interfere in the creative process too much, not asking about the plot if you don't mention it to him. but sunghoon is always there to help you whenever you need it.
it's not until you give him the first draft of your novel to read that he notices the few sex scenes that you also wrote. and listen, sunghoon is not easily getting jealous, he trusts you with his life, so how did words on paper were getting angry ? because he was. he could only imagine you thinking about all the dirty scenarios you wrote, all alone while he could have been there and make them come true. he couldn't help but wonder if you touched yourself while writing all this.
sunghoon didn't even reach the end of the novel before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. you don't even understand what's happening until your boyfriend starts to undress himself.
"you're such a naughty girl princess, writing all these things when you could've just told me that you wanted to get your ass spanked."
your cheeks were burning as you tried to defend yourself. yes, the sex scenes of your novel were self-indulgent, including all the fantasies you couldn't voice to sunghoon. but you didn't think that he would pick up on that. though he clearly did as he caged you in with his arms, lips inches away from yours.
"gonna make all these things you wrote real hm ?"
and he would so do that : manhandling you in all the positions you described, slapping your ass, fucking you rough until you cried and letting you sit on his face. eveyrthing you wrote, he did it ten times better, resulting in you orgasming too much time to count and your body dripping with sunghoon's cum.
"now you will tell me everything you want baby, right ?"
when you nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to focus on anything else than his beautiful face and his cocky smirk.
"good girl. you know i'm the only on to make you feel like that"
#sunghoon and bookworms are a match made in heaven#eli answering your questions#eli's moots#dinna's asks#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader
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Sensitive cat
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Lee: Minho
Ler: mainly Chan, Changbin and a little bit of Jisung
Note: this is a tickle fic. If you’re not comfortable or interested in this type of content, I’d recommend you scrolled 🎀
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Stray kids were in Bangchan’s dorm. They were playing a game where they would ask a certain member a question and the questioned one had to answer in complete honesty.
The questions were really innocent and nothing that would bring any of them in a difficult position.
For example, Bangchan was asked what he thinks his love language is. Minho was asked whether he loved the members or not. Changbin if he feels comfortable around the members etc.
Until the third round came.
The questions were from the oldest to the youngest. Minho was second on the rank. We must admit, he wasn’t nervous at all. He even felt comfortable. Laying down on the bed, in a sweater and sweatpants. You could say he was about to fall asleep. Until he heard the question that came off Seungmin’s mouth.
The puppy, as the group’s menace he is, asked Minho something that instantly made him open his eyes wide, ears and cheeks going a beautiful red in a matter of seconds.
He asked him: “Minho hyung, are you ticklish?”
Now, of course he knew the answer, he just wanted to mess with him a little. Every single member knew that Minho isn’t ‘just’ ticklish. He was ticklish to death.
Minho froze. He knew that the members knew, but he didn’t want to admit it either. So, instead of saying a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, he tried to get away with a single sentence
“I don’t know”
The members looked at each other smiling. “What do you mean ‘I don’t know?’? Are you Implying that if a member attempts to tickle you, you won’t react before even being touched? Come on Min, we know what you are.”, said Felix.
Minho, who usually didn’t care about honourifics at all, tried to change the topic. “It’s ‘Minho hyung’ for you, Felix.”
“Yeah yeah, the question remains, Minho. It won’t change depending on the topic. We know you don’t care about that kind of thing and we also know that you’re ticklish. Just say yes.”, Bangchan said, smiling while sitting next to Lee Know.
It was not the cat’s lucky day. He was in a position he had to admit something he didn’t want to, even though his bandmates already knew about. He felt that if he said ‘yes’ he’d make a fool out of himself. Which wasn’t true, but that’s what it felt like for him. And, apart from that, he was sitting next to the member that tickled him most.
“Never!”, the dancer said, making it clear that he wouldn’t admit something like that. “I have a question though,” he continued “if y’all already know the answer to the question, why asking me that in the first place?”, he expressed, genuinely confused and frustrated. His ears were so red that looked like they were about to explode.
“Why else, hyung? To make you seem vulnerable for once. We know your weakness and we are taking advantage of it.”, said Seungmin, proud of himself.
“I’m not ticklish anymore, you know.”, Lee Know replied, hoping that he’d at least not get poked. But no.. he wasn’t so lucky. He wasn’t really persuading either. His red parts admitted everything without words. It’s true then that actions speak louder than words. He was saying a simple ‘no’, but his body screamed the opposite.
“What are you saying? I accidentally touched your sides yesterday and you nearly screamed.”, said Jisung.
“I was startled.”
“You knew I was about to touch you. Whether that’d be on your sides, your head, or whatever. When I know that someone is gonna touch me somewhere I don’t get startled, unless I’m ticklish.”, the quokka stated.
It was cute seeing them have that kind of argument.
Minho stayed silent, his arms crossed, looking down. Until he felt a poke in his side which made him jump and let out a small and quiet ‘augh’. It was Bangchan, who was smiling like an idiot after he received the reaction he was expecting and hoping for.
“Is that what you meant by saying ‘I’m not ticklish anymore’?”, the oldest said, his smile not leaving his face.
“Don’t do that!” Minho said, covering his side with his hand, rubbing it a little. It was a habit he had. Whenever part of him was tickled, he’d rub it for a few seconds. Just to get rid of the ghost tickles.
“Why’s that, Lee Minho? Are you perhaps a little ticklish?”
“What’s your issue, old man?”
“Now that’s not how you should talk to your elders. Bin, hands”, and with that sentence, Lee Know panicked so much her thought he was the closest to death he’d ever been.
Changbin, as the strongest member, pinned Minho down sitting on his wrists. Now every sweet spot of the cat was exposed and all he could do was just let everything happen. Even if that meant that he’d probably die before everything ended. Bangchan, of course, knew how ticklish Minho was and how much he could stand it (which wasn’t too much), he would stop when he’d felt like he was crossing his limits.
“This is because you’re a liar,”, he said and poked Minho’s left side. Do I even need to write down his reaction? Use your imagination. “This is for being disrespectful,” he continued, and now poked his right side. Minho was already laughing hard. Not hysterically, just hard. He hated himself for that. He felt embarrassed. He was in front of everyone, in such a vulnerable position, unable to do anything about it.
“And this is just because I want.” Bangchan said, and with that he attacked Minho’s sides. In whichever way you’d like. Minho’s eyes were already tearing up. Chan knew that his sides were too sensitive to every single thing.
The rest of the members just stood there smiling at how adorable their hyung was. Jisung, knowing he could do whatever he wanted to Lino without getting in trouble, started softly tickling his soles. Now, Chan was sitting on Minho’s hips, so the dancer could at least move his knees. But what was there to do? He was so weak from the tickles that even if he pulled his feet away, Jisung would pull them back.
Minho was now under his members’ mercy.
“HEHEHEY NOHOHO!”, he screamed multiple times. It was like he was in mute. No one payed attention to what he said, like he’d never said anything
“What’s that Min? Are you ticklish by any chance?” Chan teased “Changbin, looks like you have long nails, how about you lightly tickle the ‘I’m not ticklish anymore’ guy’s armpits? And oh, Jisung, keep tickling his feet. Looks like we found another spot.”
“Say less” Changbin said, who was patiently waiting for this moment. He starts drawing circles in the poor boy’s armpits.
“STOP STOP STOHOHOP! SEHEHEO CHAHANGBIHIHIN! PLEAHAHASE DOHOHONT- IHIM SOHORRY!” screamed the dancer.
Jisung grew genuinely concerned and stopped. He knew Minho was having way more than what he could handle. “Hyungs, I think we need to stop.”
Changbin stopped, but Chan didn’t. He just stopped the light tickles, still on his sides.
“ChahahAHAN HYUHUNG pleHEase! IHIHIM TIHIHICKLIHISH! I AHAM! JUHUHST PLEAHASE MAKE IHIHIT STOHOHOP!”, he screamed and Chan stopped.
He got off him and Minho immediately hugged himself and curled into a ball. Still giggling as the ghost tickles were still there.
“You alright, Min? Did we go too far?”, asked the leader.
“Noho I’m not and yes yohou dihid”
“Okay! I got my answer. You such a sensitive cat, aren’t you?”, said the puppy, clearly amused by what had just happened.
The game didn’t stop, however, Minho made up a new rule. No tickling questions were allowed from that point. Unless it was Chan who was questioned
Minho took advantage of it and not much longer the fourth round came.
“Chan hyung,” Lee Know said, “are you ticklish?”
The leader looked at him in pure terror
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Let me know if you want a sequel!
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I Choose You
Pairing: Fem! reader x Gabimaru (reader’s skin color/ hair color/texture not specified) (also I'm unclear on Gabi’s age but obviously he’s 18+ here)
Summary: When reader and Gabi’s marriage is arranged, neither are sure what to expect. Overtime, however, they find that their connection goes beyond just duty.
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: both characters are lil shy and awkward at times (but its sweet), arranged marriage, bathing together, fingering, mutual virginity loss, cream pie, not proof read
a/n: I lost the sex scene not once, but TWICE, so I hope you enjoy because I suffered for it. Also I think this is literally the first Gabimaru smut so that’s cool
Your wedding day was something you pictured your entire life. You spent a lot of time thinking about the dress you would wear, the food you’d eat, the people you would celebrate with. Most of your daydreams, though, were spent wondering who your husband would be.
You thought about the ways you’d meet him. Maybe while out on a walk, or when you went to the market in the village. You imagined him being sweet and charming you. Taking you on dates and winning your heart. You pictured him as gentle, but strong, and, of course, handsome.
None of those things happened. There was no romance, just an order from your father. And now you sat next to your husband, a man who’s reputation proceeded him. Gabimaru the Hollow. He was not unhandsome, you noted, but that did not do enough to mitigate your fear of him. He was your father’s most fearsome shinobi, capable of things you couldn’t even imagine.
He was unassuming, despite his reputation. You expected him to be... well meaner. Or louder. Or something. He was oddly quiet, not speaking to you beyond what was necessary for the vows. He barely ate, too, though neither had you. But that was because of your nerves.
You knew what came after a marriage ceremony. No matter who you had married, you’d be nervous for that. But the fact that you didn’t know this man beyond his reputation made it even scarier. You weren’t ready for it, but if he wanted to have sex with you, you had no choice but to comply. It was what was expected of a good wife and you’d raise to be, above all, a good wife.
You tried watching Gabimaru out of the corner of your eye. He seemed disinterest, bored even. You wished you could read his mind, or that you at least felt brave enough to start conversation. You wondered how he felt about this. Anxiety fluttered through you. What if he was displeased? Your hand almost instinctively went up to the scar down your face, but you resisted. Perhaps he did not think you were beautiful. Though you had no strong feelings for the man, it still poked at your insecurity.
Suddenly, your father was announcing the end of the festivities. Your stomach churned with anxiety as you and Gabimaru were led to your place on the compound. The house was modest, but comfortable. There was even a private bathing area attached to it, which you were excited about. You, however, weren’t in the frame of mind to be all that excited over your living situation.
“Congratulation on your marriage. I hope you will both make our clan proud,” your father said, with very little warmth in his voice. He was never a kind man and you couldn’t imagine having to endure relentless training with him.
Then the door shut and you were alone with Gabimaru. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t hear him speak. “Do you know where the bedroom is?”
“Oh y-yes,” you replied, glad to have a task. You began walking and he followed behind you. “Since the wedding was announced, I have been preparing the house for us.” It was strange to have an ‘us.’ “I hope you will find it satisfactory.”
“It’s nice,” he noted.
“Thank you. Oh, here we are.” You stepped into the bedroom, which felt significantly smaller now that both of you were in it. “There’s sleepwear in the dresser.”
“Thank you,” he replied, pulling out what he needed. You took our your own and slipped behind the changing screen. Maybe it was silly to protect your modesty around your husband, especially when he was most likely about to take it all off, but it made you feel better.
Gabimaru was already on the bed when you stepped out. Your knees were weak, but you pushed yourself forward. You lied down next to him, hoping he couldn't hear your heart pounding. You were still as stone, waiting for him to move, to touch you, to have his way with you.
But then he surprised you. He softly said goodnight and turned his back to you to sleep. You felt a wave of surprise and relief that he did not intend to have sex with you. Though it did a lot to help your nerves, it did little to improve your insecurities. This time, you allowed your fingers to run over the scar on your face, wondering if you were not enough.
***
Over the next few weeks you got to know Gabimaru, who was nothing like you expected. You were waiting to see anger or cruelty or something to be scared of, but you never saw it. Indeed, he seems the opposite. He was quiet and unassuming, albeit a little strange. He had some odd habits, such as searching every corner of the house twice before bed, and was aloof at times, but never was mean.
It was strange, though, to see how other in the compound treated him. They were certainly afraid of him. Many avoided him altogether, or seemed uneasy when having to speak with him. Even your father’s most skilled and dangerous shinobi seemed on edge around him. If they acted that way, you knew the stories about him had to be true and yet, you had not been able to feel any fear towards him since the night of your wedding passed.
It was still a mystery how he felt about you. The first few nights after your wedding you kept expecting him to reach over and touch you or tell you he wanted you. However, at this point you have fully dropped that expectation. It was still a little odd to sleep next to a relative stranger, but you did feel oddly safe with him around.
Though you appreciated him never forcing himself on you, your fears of him not finding you attractive grew worse and worse. Why else would a man not sleep with his wife? You didn’t blame him, you knew the scar marred your beauty, but it still hurt. You tried not to dwell on it, as it was something you couldn’t change. Instead, you resolved to be the perfect wife in other ways. You were determined to connect with him.
“Gabi - uh do you mind if I eat with you tonight?” you were so nervous to ask that you didn’t even notice the nickname you’d given him. It caught Gabimaru’s attention, though, throwing him off.
“Oh, um, sure,” he replied, sitting down at the table. You felt a small rush of triumph. Gabi was often out late, eating long after you when he got home. Sometimes he didn’t eat at all. When he was home, he always went off to eat alone. It was one of his odd habits.
Gabi began to devour his food. And you mean devour. Shoveling it into his mouth so quickly you couldn’t imagine he even tasted it. You couldn’t help but laugh. He paused at the sound, looking up expecting to find you mocking him, but there was not a trace of malice in your laughter or your face.
“You don’t need to rush!” you said kindly.
Gabi knew the way he ate wasn’t normal. He was taught to eat this way in his training. Eating was a necessary evil, not something you took pleasure in. He was trained to eat his food for sustenance, nothing more. Gabi wasn’t sure what to say, so he just said, “Sorry.”
You smiled fondly at him. It stirred something deep inside him that he couldn't quite place. “No need to apologize. I just want you to enjoy it. After a long day you deserve it.”
You deserve it. Gabi had never been told that before, at least not for something good. No, only punishments were deserved. “I guess I was just taught this way.”
“I can teach you a new way... If you’d like,” you added as to not sound too assertive.
Gabimaru, in that moment, realized he would like to learn. “Yes... please”
You modeled for him, picking a few noodles up with your chopsticks and slurping them up slowly. He mimicked you, though still went a little too fast, causing the noodles to go a little haywire. They whipped around to hit his cheek and chin. You couldn’t help but giggle.
“That will happen if you go to fast,” you explained. “Try again, just a little slower.” Under you gentle instruction, he was able to slurp the noodles up with out a mess. You then instructed him to take a little sip of the broth and allow it to swirl around on his tongue before swallowing. Gabi’s eyes widened as he truly tasted his food for the first time in years. He couldn’t believe how good it was.
“This is so good,” he said. You beamed at the compliment, which only made him enjoy it more. You both sat together and ate slowly, an activity Gabi never thought could be so... nice.
“Do you have a favorite food? I want to make more things you’ll like.” He didn’t, what with how eating typically went for him. He told you as much. “That’s alright, we’ll just have to find your favorite together. I’ll try a bunch of different recipes and you can tell me which you like best. Would you like that?”
Gabimaru was not often shocked, but you really threw him for a loop. He did not expect much from a marriage. Honestly, he hadn't even really wanted it, but knew he couldn’t refuse the request from your father. Knowing him, he’d assumed you would be the same. Your kindness and gentleness with him was disarming.
“Yes, thank you y/n,” he replied. He was unnerved. Not in a bad way, like when he faced a strong opponent. He just didn’t know what to make of you. Gabi asked if there was anything he could do. He always felt best when he was given commands. It was comfortable for him to not have to make decisions for himself, rather just do as he was told.
“Oh, um,” you were surprised he offered to help. You were not used to that from the men you knew. “Some help cleaning the dishes would be great.”
Gabimaru nodded and joined you at the counter. You fell into an easy rhythm of you rinsing and him drying. There was silence between the two of you, but it was comfortable. Pleasant, almost. You almost wished there were more dishes to do just to prolong this time.
Finally, however, you finished. You didn’t want to push too far, so you just thanked Gabi for his help. Gabimaru nodded and started to exit the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, turning back to you.
He said what he had been thinking since he first heard you say it. “I… like when you call me Gabi. You can call me that from now on. And thank you again for the food.”
Your heart soared with pride. You were so pleased that your plan was a success. “Of course. I look forward to more meals with you, Gabi.” With that Gabi disappeared into the hallway, leaving you both with the faintest hint of a stirring that you couldn’t quite place.
***
The evening you shared dinner with Gabi seemed to be the icebreaker you both needed. You noticed that he started coming home earlier and made effort to eat with you. You loved watching him find joy in food and learning all the things he liked. You were slowly spending more time with each other and little by little getting to know each other more.
Gabi was still very guarded. He seemed nervous in ways or, rather, like a fish out of water. You quickly realized he didn’t know what it meant to live a “normal” life. It was why he ate too quickly, couldn’t do laundry, and struggled to make conversation. You knew it was all because of your father’s cruel training. It made you resent him more.
The only good thing it provided was more opportunities to connect with Gabi. Each time you taught him something new, you felt yourselves grow closer. It had only been a few weeks since that dinner and you felt yourself growing fond of him.
Well, more than fond truly. You were nervous around him, but not for the reasons you originally were. Your stomach filled with butterflies. As much as you learned about him, you wished for more. The time spent with him wasn’t enough.
You wished for a touch, even. Not that you were necessarily ready for sex, but a brush of hands, an embrace, anything to give an indication of how he felt. You felt he was connecting to you, but the lack of intimacy nagged at you. Could he just not be interested?
Little did you know that Gabi was very much interested. He savored the time you spent together, arguably even more than you did. He knew he wasn’t the best at companionship, but just listening to you talk brought up feelings in him he quite honestly didn’t know he had. He always feared he was disappointing you, but was soothed by the smiles you gave and the gentleness you showed him.
Gabi wanted to touch you, but he didn’t really know how. He was scared of hurting you or making you afraid. You were everything he wasn’t: sweet, kind, a caretaker. He knew you must be aware of his reputation, of who he was, and felt you must think he’s monster like everyone else does, even if you didn’t show it.
For those reasons, he felt he didn’t even deserve to touch you. There were, however, a few times in the night that your bodies had drifted together. Gabi was a very light sleeper and woke up the instant your body touched his. You were so warm, your scent so sweet, that he couldn’t pull himself away. It felt wrong, to steal these moments from you, but he couldn’t help himself. He always slipped away before you could wake and realize. It was better that way, he told himself.
What he felt for you was already dangerous. It went against everything he was trained to become: an unfeeling killing machine. If his judgement were to become clouded with feelings for you, it could put not only him but you in danger. He simply could not have that. Still, it was much easier said than done.
“Gabi there is something we need to work on,” you said, pulling him from his thoughts.
“What is that?”
“Bathing.”
“Bathing? What about it?”
“I don’t think you do it… right,” you said politely.
Gabi didn’t know there was a right and wrong way to bathe. He said as much to you.
“Well you don’t seem to indulge in it much. And when you do you’re barely in the bath for a few minutes. I don’t see how you can even enjoy it.”
“I was taught that baths are to be completed as quickly as possible. Any lingering could dull the senses,” he replied. He left out the part that those senses were necessary for his job of killing people. He didn’t want to fill your head with that vision of him. You looked at him with such empathy that it made his chest ache strangely.
“I know you were raised in a … strict environment. I imagine on a mission lingering in the bath is not advisable,” you replied, “but at home with me you are safe. I can promise you that. You deserve to relax. To feel clean.”
To feel clean. Gabi doesn’t think he’s felt truly clean in a very long time. He sometimes wondered if he was tainted the moment he was born. He wasn’t sure a bath would change that, but he could not resist the sweet smile on your face.
Gabi followed you to the bathing area, the part of the house he admittedly spent the least amount of time in. “Let me put some essential oils in the water before you get in. It’s good for you skin and smells nice. Would you like rose or lavender?”
You might as well be speaking another language. “Um. Which do you like?”
“Lavender.”
“I’ll take that one then.”
You smiled, which made Gabi’s chest feel lighter. You opened up a small bottle, putting a few drops of liquid in the water. Steam rolled up from the water as your swirled it around with your hand, filling the room with a pleasant scent. “There, that should be good. I’m going to get a few things, you can get in if you’d like.”
Gabi started to undress, which made your cheeks tint. You turned to gather some bars of soap and towels, but couldn’t help but peak over at him. You almost gasped seeing how his body was littered with scars. You of all people knew what it was like to carry scars; your heart ached for him and the pain he must have endured. You felt like you should look away as he stripped his lower half, but you could make your eyes move. You did not have much to compare to, but he looked large even when soft. Your cheeks had to be flaming red.
“Is everything okay?” Gabi asked as he stepped into the bath, his body disappearing below the water. Gabi wasn’t really uncomfortable with nudity, nor did he ever think his body could have an effect on you. He wasn’t sure what was making you blush, but did think you looked particularly pretty when your cheeks were pink.
“Y-yes, sorry I was just...” you mumbled, fumbling to pivot the conversation, “Wondering if the water is warm enough?” You told yourself to get it together, that there was no need to be bumbling like an idiot over nudity.
“Yes it’s good.”
You pulled yourself together and brought the soaps over to Gabi. You sat behind him, feeling grateful that the water and candlelight made it difficult to see much. You could see that Gabi still looked tense, though. “You need to relax.”
“I... I don't really know how to do that,” Gabi admitted.
You couldn’t help but giggle, which Gabi delighted in, despite feeling vulnerable. He always felt that way when you were teaching hims something new. “Try closing your eyes.” That went against all of Gabi’s instincts, but he did not want to disappoint you, so he complied. “Now try taking deep, slow breaths.” That Gabi could do fairly easily. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly over his shoulder. “Good Gabi, just like that.” Your praise made his cheeks burn. “May... may I touch you?”
Gabi’s pulse raced. He hoped his voice didn’t shake when he said, “Yes.”
“I’m going to start with your hair.” You collected some water in your hands, gently pouring it over the top of his head. You repeated the actions until his hair was nice and wet. You tried to focus on the task at hand so you did not get too nervous about the fact you were finally touching him. “This soap is specifically for hair. It smells like sandalwood. I think you’ll like it.”
You lathered the soap in your hands, before putting them in Gabi’s snowy hair. You gently rubbed little circles over his head to get it nice and soapy. You then allowed your nails to run over his scalp, getting a deeper clean.
“Wow,” an almost inaudible sigh left Gabi’s mouth. He couldn’t believe how good it felt just to have your hands on his head. Gabi didn’t really know what it meant to relax, but he felt a soothing sort of warmth starting to spread through his body and wondered if that was it.
You smiled at his reaction. “Feels nice, right?” Gabi nodded, letting himself get lost in your touch. You scrubbed at his hair until the bubbles rinsed away all the dirt. You hesitated a little before moving down to his shoulders, feeling little butterflies in your stomach. You ran the bar of soap over his shoulder and upper back, before massaging it in with your hands.
Gabi’s body tensed at first under your touch. He was not used to anyone touching him, at least not in a gentle way. However, the more your hands work over his body, the more he relaxed. You savored the feeling of his body beneath your hands. You could easily feel the strength of his muscles, thick and firm under his skin. The texture of his scars was a little rougher than the rest of his skin, but you didn’t mind at all. You were extra soft around them.
You were nervous to ask the next question, but you pushed through. “I- I will have to get in with you to do the rest of your body. But if you don’t want me to, that’s okay.”
Gabi almost said no, solely because the thought of you being naked in the bathing pool with him did something to his senses that more than dulled them. But he even with all his training, he could not resist it. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Your hands were shaking a little as you stood up and undressed. You left your clothes in a messy pile behind you as you walked to the other side of the bathing pool to climb in. You were so nervous about Gabi seeing you naked that you almost let out a laugh when you saw that he still had his eyes dutifully closed. He really wanted to look, but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He kept his eyes screwed shut even as he heard you stepping into the water.
“You can open your eyes now, if you’d like.”
He did, finding you up to your chest in the water. He could see the very top of your breast at the top of the water, but nothing more. You looked so beautiful with your cheeks flushed and shoulders bare that it made him shift nervously. You approached him slowly settling a few inches in front of him. He watched as you continued your work down his body, lathering and massaging the soap down his arms, his chest, his legs. You didn’t touch him between his legs and he was glad for it. He did not trust his bodily control that much.
Though having you so close to him and touching him made him nervous, he could not deny it felt amazing. He never lingered this long in the bath. Between the warmth of the water and the way you scrubbed him clean, he his body felt lighter than it had in a very long time. He was in awe of how you found the easiest ways to change his life.
“All done,” you said finally, “How do you feel?”
Gabi gave you the sweetest smile you’d seen in all the time you've know him. “Clean. Thank you.” You smiled equally as brightly in response. A thought dawned over Gabi that he knew was a bad idea, but he wanted to show you he could learn to be gentle. To be a normal person. “Can I... return the favor? It seems only right. And it would help me practice.”
The thought of Gabi’s hands on your body elicited a stirring in your lower belly. There was not a single part of you, though, that did not want it. “I would like that, thank you.”
You turned your back to him, sitting between his legs. Gabi took the soap from side of the pool, which so slick it slipped through his fingers and dropped into the pool. You both laughed lightly, breaking some of the nervous tension.
Gabi mimicked exactly what you did, starting with your hair. His fingers got a little tangled at first, but with some patient instruction he got the hang of it. He had a surprisingly careful touch that soothed you. You waited so long to know what his touch felt like and you were not disappointed. You had to fight the urge to lean into it more, to press your body against his.
Your breath caught in your throat as his hands slid around to your stomach. He did not touch your breasts, nor the space between your legs, but each time he got close you both blushed deeply. Not that you knew given that your back was still to him.
“Was that okay?” Gabi asked when he finished.
“That was perfect,” you replied, turning around to face him. You were so close to each other now, faces just inches a part. You felt drawn to him, like a moth to flame. Your voice was just a whisper when you asked, “May I try something?”
“Anything,” he breathed.
You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was the first kiss either of you ever shared and you both felt it ignite something deeper in you. You pulled away, breathless. Gabi was in stunned silence.
“Was that okay?” You asked nervously.
“Yes of course I- I just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain it. Not sure how to not expose all his vulnerabilities to you. “I just never thought you would want to do that with… someone like me.”
Your brows furrowed. “Someone like you? What do you mean.”
“I- I’m not a good person,” Gabi admitted, “I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re my husband.”
“But you didn’t choose me.”
“But I am choosing you,” you insisted, “I have chosen you ever say since our wedding. I will continue to choose you for as long as I shall live. I- I don’t care about what you think you are or what people say. I have seen you for who you really are. You are a good man, Gabi.”
You are a good man, Gabi. Your voice echoed in his head. He couldn’t believe that you could think so highly of him. Feel so strongly about him. It loosened something in his chest, filling him with such an aching want he couldn’t speak.
You mistook his silence for disinterest. “I hope I have not overstepped. If you do not feel the same I understand.” You went to turn away, but Gabi grabbed you.
“No, don’t go,” he urged. “I’m sorry, you know I am not good with words. I just never thought you would feel that way about me.”
“You do yourself a disservice, Gabi,” you replied, “truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t feel that way about me.” Your eyes dropped to the water, feel self conscious. “I thought I may not be beautiful enough for you.”
Gabi was astonished that you could think that. He gently cupped your cheek, making your eyes meet. The way he looked at you made your chest squeeze. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His thumb brushed over your scar. “I hate that you’ve been hurt like this, but I promise it does nothing to mar your beauty.”
You leaned into his touch, feeling all the insecurity and anxiety you’d felt the last few weeks melt away. “Gabi we haven’t made our marriage… official you know,” you blushed as you spoke. Gabis brows wrinkled in confusion, then shot up when he understood.
“Do you want to?”
You nodded. “Yes, I want to be with you like that. I know we didn’t chose each other initially, but we can choose this.”
“I would love to,” Gabi replied, his head spinning at the mere thought. “I’ve just never done that. With anyone.” Now you were surprised; you could believe he was a virgin like you. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Nothing could be a disappointment with you,” you assured him. You took his hands in yours and squeezed them. “We will get to learn. Together.”
Gabi loved the sound of that. You both wasted no time climbing out of the tub. You didn’t bother covering yourself with clothing or a towel, allowing Gabi see your entire body. You felt a little shy under his gaze but not uncomfortable. He was mesmerized by the droplets of water dripping down your curves.
“So beautiful,” was all he could manage, but you felt the weight of the feelings behind his words. You took his hand in yours, loving its warm roughness. You found yourself in your room quickly. You both laughed with nervous excitement as you climbed on to the bed and settled next to each other. “May I kiss you?”
He was pulling you in the second you nodded. The kiss was deeper than the first. It was a little messy on account of both of yours lack of experience, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You let your hands trail his body, liking that your got to feel him without the barrier of water. You loved everything you felt, scars and all.
You sensed Gabi was still hesitant to touch you. You took his hands in yours, placing them on your sides. “Go on, Gabi. Touch me,” you urged softly, “I want you to.”
He could not deny you anything. He allowed his hands to explore your body. He couldn’t believe how soft you were. Feeling braver, he brought a hand to your breast and squeezed gently. The little gasp you made made blood rush between his legs.
He felt instinct take over and brought his lips to the sensitive flesh. He kissed it, ran, his tongue over your nipple, then sucked lightly. Your body arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. He loves that, how your body reacted to him, as if urging for more, which he was more than happy to give.
As he kissed at your breasts you could feel him growing harder against your thigh. You squirmed with need, thighs pressing together for friction. Gabi could not resist touching you between them any longer.
Though he had no previous partners, he had a general idea of how things worked and how sex was supposed to go. Lord knows he heard men talk enough about it. So he knew women were supposed to get wet, yet he was still shocked by the slickness between your legs. In the best way possible.
“So wet,” he murmured, running his fingers through it. You were practically shaking with anticipation as his fingers ghosted over your clit. He noted how your body twitched and made a mental note to go back to that. He slid a finger inside you savoring the gasped you made. You were so wet and warm and tight around his finger, he couldn’t imagine how you’d feel around his cock.
Gabi never cared that much about getting off; it had always just been a matter of necessity for him. He never really did it out of desire or want, but he wanted you so bad it hurt. He pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face carefully for response. When he found a spot inside you that made you gasp particularly loud, he zeroed in on that. As your breath grew ragged, he remembered the other spot he wanted to try. He slid his fingers out of you and brought them to your clit, rubbing it.
“Feels so good,” you gasped.
“You like that?” he asked.
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, “Don’t stop.” Gabi continued touching you just you asked. Each little circle he rubbed made the coil of pleasure in your lower stomach feel tighter. Gabi’s fingers felt so much better than your own. He leaned in taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking. The sensation caused the coil to snap, spreading pleasure across every inch of your body. Gabi watched as you came, your face went slack with bliss, your body arched. He wanted to watch you do that over and over.
“You’re good at that,” you said with a shy giggle when you came down from your high.
“Thank you,” Gabi beamed at the compliment.
Your eyes traveled down his body, seeing how hard he was with need. Gabi felt a little shy under your gaze, but let you look. You looked up at him. “You’re so handsome,” you said, “And I want all of you.”
Your hands traveled down his body, taking his cock in your hands. You pumped the length a little and Gabi’s hips stuttered. It was such a slight touch, but it drove him wild. You pulled him closer to you, rubbing him against your slick cunt. His head nudged against your hole and you looked to him for more.
“And you’re sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” Gabi heard the first time could be uncomfortable for girls; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“I trust you,” you replied definitively. That almost meant more to him than everything else you have said to him.
When he finally pressed into you, you both gasped. It was such a full, foreign feeling, but not unpleasant. Gabi tried to steady himself as he felt your gummy walls squeeze around him. “Are you in any pain?” he asked though gritted teeth.
You felt very full and a little pressure, but nothing painful. “I’m okay Gabi, keep going.” He did has you bid him, rolling his hips slowly so you could both adjust. Each moment that passed made the pressure melt to pleasure. His cock tip brushed the sweet spot inside you. Each sweet sound that left your mouth urged him to continue. He gripped the bed sheets tightly, trying to not to spill too soon.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your bodies completely pressed together as you kissed him. You both loved the connectedness, how you didn’t really know where one started and the other ended. You both didn’t knew sex was supposed to feel good, but you didn’t know it would feel this good.
You hips bucked up to meet Gabi’s, pressing him deeper inside you. Your second orgasm snuck up on you, seizing your body with warm bliss. Gabi got lost in the feeling of squeezing him, moaning his name in his ear. His hips twitched as he came, filling you with his warm release.
You were both breathlessly and smiling as you came down from you high. You felt so deeply connected to Gabi in that moment that you couldn’t believe there was a time you didn’t know him.
You pushed his hair out of his eyes, smiling up at his face. “I love you, Gabi. And I choose you. Always.”
“Thank you for showing me what love could be,” Gabi replied, kissing your lips. He held you close, glad that finally he would not have to slip away from you. He could hold you, choose you. Forever.
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I’m The Most Beautiful Count Official Pilot Unhinged Breakdown
*update. the sub is up now. i'm glad i can be of help for an hour though. 😂
First of all ahhhhhhh, this is big ya'll the main character herself identify as lgbtq+ and kathoey. so the appropriate pronoun for this character is probably going to be she/them in english (this is just educated guess from the trailer but i'm pretty sure this going to be it.)
So it this a BL?? TL?? KL?? idk but i also don't care
She is out and proud and she's in the show biz.
Girl thought she in a prank show. this kind of scene is in so many stuff it's kinda get repetitive. but at least its open with hot man boobs.
That is the past live person's father doing the bashing. it's rough to watch but that servant boy jump out to take the hits got me.
So she's faking amnesia and i think this guy is an old flame.
Hubba hubba. this guy is the jackass king's who pushed our queen to save himself in previous scene brother
The past live bitch got some game. she managed to snatch all the hot noble men and that's mother behavior.
Ok so i think the plot of this show is old past live killed herself cause olden time queerphobic. modern time queen think she need to write the wrong of the past by feelling in love with one of these guys so she can get back to the present day, but she don't know which one of these is actually the one, hijinks ensue, etc.
That's all the gist of it, hope this help.
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"Give me six months"
This is a chapter from a longer fic that you can find here. It's a letter from Astarion, written over the course of six months immediately following the defeat of the Absolute. The premise is that you two are taking some time apart after the main events of the game so he can figure his shit out a bit. I love his friendship ending because he's so happy and proud of himself, but I wish it were possible to have that and the romance as well, so this is me making that happen.
Darling,
It’s been 3 days since you saved the world. I can hear you objecting to my phrasing, so let me rephrase: it’s been 3 days since I saved the world and you were also there. Better, my dear?
This is very irksome, you know. I thought I’d make it more than 3 days without being so desperate to talk to you that I write a bunch of sentimental words down for all the world to see. And even worse, it would’ve been far less than 3 days if I’d been able to find any parchment in this godsforsaken city (we could have just let it burn, darling, no one would blame us!).
Frankly, I’m rather upset with you. Yes, I’m actually making up my mind right now. You don’t deserve a letter from me, you’re too lovely and too brilliant and too beautiful and you make it impossible to live without you.
I’ve decided to help out the spawn in the underdark. There. That’s all you’re getting from me.
______________
Perhaps I was a bit hasty. I apologize.
That’s something I’m working on doing more of, apologizing. I am getting quite a lot of practice, spending every day with people I seduced for… I’d rather not write his name, actually. But you know. People I seduced in order for him to turn and torture and starve and imprison them for a century or two.
As such, I am becoming an expert at apologizing for things no one could ever really apologize for.
If I was in a better mood I’d make a joke about how I’m spending time with thousands of my exes and you should be jealous. You’ll just have to imagine how hilarious it would be, and then pretend it’s not funny even though you’re smiling, and then roll your eyes at me like you always do. I even miss your exasperation. That’s… horrible. This is horrible.
I know it was my idea to go off and figure things out on my own but I’m beginning to suspect I’m the stupidest elf to ever live.
I can’t tell anymore if I’m being funny when I talk or if I’m just being mean. Is that how other people feel about me, that I’m mean? I think it probably is. Maybe I don’t want to be mean. That doesn’t sound right. I think I’m okay with being mean, I just want to be doing it on purpose.
You’re always so kind, but you have your meaner moments, don’t you? Gods, you’re so terrible with children. The things I’ve seen you say to them. They all think you’re dreadful. That’s something at least.
You see, I find it easier to bear your absence if I pretend your presence isn’t the best feeling in the world and everything you do isn’t perfect. I’m never able to pretend for very long, but I get a good couple minutes each day where I convince myself I’m scandalized by how you talk to children and not completely enchanted by it, and I miss you just slightly less.
_______________
It has been one month since we saved the world. I miss the sun almost as much as I miss you.
My siblings have actually made quite a bit of progress with the spawn. They’re talking about starting a school for the younger ones. It’s very strange. I hope they don’t become good people or we’ll have nothing to talk about anymore.
I had a chat with Sebastian this afternoon, which was also strange. He said, “it must be difficult seeing our faces day and night. Torturing yourself isn’t going to change anything for us. You’ve apologized; you might as well go figure out your next move.”
I think he’s just sick of seeing me and wants me to leave, but he found a kind way to say it.
But he’s not wrong to assume I have no plan after this. I might head above ground tonight and explore the city a bit, see if anything inspires me. I haven’t breathed spore-free air in what feels like years.
I think I could be okay with not having the sun if I had you. Having neither seems… unfair.
I suppose I deserve a bit of unfair.
_______________
2 months. Some very strange things have happened.
Firstly, I did take that walk. I very purposely avoided the part of the city where I heard you had settled, and then of course wound up walking right past a house that apparently belongs to your sister. I thought she was you for a moment and my heart stopped. Metaphorically, anyway.
I don’t love how much it destroyed me looking through a window and seeing someone I thought was you holding a child and kissing a spouse. Which is to say that it completely destroyed me even as it made me happy seeing you apparently happy.
I’m adding this experience to my list of reasons why forming attachments with other people is actually a bad idea and never worth it. I also have a list of reasons why attachments are good and worth it every time, which has only ever consisted of one item, which is your name. The good list wins every time, a fact which has also made its way to the bad list. No one person should have that much power!
If I’m not allowed to ascend, you’re not allowed to make me love you. It’s just as bad. You're drunk with power, darling, and it's time someone called you out on it.
Gods, you’ve completely distracted me from my point. Anyway, after I finally remembered that 2 months would not have been long enough for you to grow and birth and raise a toddler, and after I looked into the window once more and realized your sister does not actually look much like you at all, and also after I looked at the mailbox and saw your second name with a different first name, I pieced things together. Not quickly enough to keep your family from noticing the crazed vampire staring in their window, I’m sorry to say. Do give them my regards.
But after that, I ran into someone I recognized from the palace. One of the butlers, I think, or a general thrall. He was so excited to see me that he stopped me in the middle of the street and started calling me “Master” and babbling about having the carpets cleaned, so I said “strange man, what the hells are you talking about??” And he told me I was the most senior spawn still living and as such… have inherited the estate.
Now, I know this is difficult to believe given my refined manners and, well, my hair, but I’ve never actually owned a palace before. Much less one where I was trapped and tortured for a couple centuries. It’s a complicated situation. Everything is still very much in the air, but I wanted to tell you, and this is how I tell you things now. I will update you once I have an update.
_______________
I adopted a cat. I ran into Halsin on one of his supply runs into the city and he had His Majesty from Last Light with him. Apparently His Majesty had been picking fights with children (and more power to him, I’m sure you’d say), and I remembered his regal little face and volunteered to take him in without a second thought.
We are still… feeling each other out. But I gave him his own room in the estate, which I think he appreciated. The cat, I mean. Halsin doesn’t get a room.
I also do not have a room in the estate, as I am unwilling to set foot inside the building until it has been completely gutted and cleaned and the dungeons walled off permanently. Strangely enough, our old friend Barcus sent me a great team of his people to handle the renovations. Demolitions, as you can imagine, have been smooth, if a bit too enthusiastic. The gnomes have also been very nice about the whole vampire thing and willing to work nights whenever I need to be there to make decisions.
On a related note, I’ve added another item to the long list of crimes Cazador committed: laying carpeting over completely gorgeous vintage wood flooring! Murder and torture is bad, but that’s a whole other level. Thank the gods we got that criminal off the streets.
(Did you notice I wrote his name out? And then made a little joke? I think I’m rather proud of myself for that)
For the first time I’m glad we’re spending this time apart, because truly all I can talk about is tiles and paint samples and upholstery and you’d probably stake me within a couple days of being in my presence and it would be absolutely justified.
I ache for you.
_______________
3 months.
I have been thinking about my lists. I think, perhaps, it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, making them the sole positive attachment in your life.
I say this because I’ve been spending time with His Majesty to help him acclimate, and a gnome worker commented the other day that I’m the only living creature this cat will tolerate. It made me so sad, thinking of this lovely, affectionate cat who is only ever lovely and affectionate with me. Everyone else’s experience with him will always be negative. I’ll be the only one who’s sad when he dies, and people won’t even be sympathetic to me because they’ll think, well, he wasn’t very nice anyway, good riddance.
It seems like we at least owe it to our loved ones not to leave them alone with their grief when we die.
And no, my love, I did not see the parallels to any vampire with which we are acquainted, at least not until Halsin came by to check on him on his way out of town and I gave him this whole monologue. And then he just sort of stood there looking at me until he very gently hinted that perhaps there are other people who would be willing to love the cat “if he’d just show them his belly instead of his claws.”
At that point I just thought he was hitting on me, but after he explained a little further I finally got what he was trying to say.
Which is how I ended up wine drunk with Halsin last night. We have… a surprising amount of things in common. It was disconcerting.
He also offered me some sort of mysterious substance from his pipe which I politely declined, and it was only after this that he told me a friend of his had smoked it just the night before and it had sent them into a panic attack. So if Halsin ever offers you his pipe, darling, just say no. Given your already nervous constitution, and I say this with love, you’d be absolutely fucked.
Speaking of drunk! You may be wondering how I’ve been keeping myself fed. Some of the Sharess employees have picked up on the increased demand from all these newly-free vampires and have started offering blood drinking as a service, but I’m hesitant to drink from another humanoid. My siblings think I’m being a stick in the mud, but I’ve heard them talking about people they’ve tasted and none of them sound anywhere close to the experience of drinking from you. I feel as if I’ve only ever tasted the most exquisitely aged brandy and I’m being offered tiefling wine as a replacement. I just think it would break my heart.
That said, non-vermin animals have offered a surprising range of flavors. I’ve found I’m partial to owlbears. Something about the risk makes them taste better, I think. Sort of earthy and vegetal? Not bad. In the alcohol metaphor this would be something akin to a local brew. Still a downgrade, but different enough that it doesn’t sting as much.
My good list has 3 names now, by the way: you, Halsin (this was a wine decision, but I’m allowing it for now), and His Majesty.
_______________
4 months? I think?
Listen darling, I’ll just get this out of the way: I’ve had many glasses of brandy. What’s that you say? How many is many? I stopped counting at six, my dear!
You know sometimes I think, absence is absence makes the heart grow fonder. And then I think of you, my blossom, my peach, my absolute tadpole (workshopping that one but i like it), and I think, well fuck. Maybe I’m making it up, maybe she’s not as wonderful as I remember?
And so I thik of all your worst qualities, and I concentrate so hard on them, and my love, my petal, my sweet corn, do you know what happens then? I can’t even think of any
OH wait, that’s not true. That thing when you talk and you have a bubble in your throat that you haven’t swallowed and your voice comes out weird and it makes me want to set myself on fire
Also you’re so hard on yourself, it drives me up an absolute wall. I just want to grab your shoulders and shake you and yell “be nice to my girlfriend”
And then grab other things and shake them…?
I’m far too drunk to be seductive, but just imagine me saying some absolutely filthy things in your ear right now in that voice you like. YOU KNOW THE ONE. Gods, I can’t wait to use it on you again.
I just waaaaant. I want you here so bad all the time.
I want your smell and your touch and your skin and your everything everywhere on me and around me
And… in me? Cheeky, darling. I’m not saying no, but now’s hardly the time
Love and like and cherish and worship and want, a.
_______________
No one has ever felt this ill before and no one ever will again.
I refuse on principle to take back anything I wrote last night, but let’s all agree to forget the corn thing, shall we?
And that cheeky bit at the end–really very unbecoming of you to take advantage of an incapacitated elf like that. Again, I’m not saying no, just. The timing really makes me think less of you, love.
_______________
To be honest, darling, I’m running out of things to say. Six months is a month away and I’m trying so hard not to just watch the clock all day (well, all night).
Has this time been worth it? Nothing is worth this, but if I put aside the heartache, it’s been amazing. I truly never thought I’d be able to become… whoever it is I’ve become.
When the tadpole happened, I saw hope for the first time. I thought I’d finally have control over my life if I had control over the tadpole. If I had control over everything. I honestly never saw another way.
It’s a testament to you that you saw all of this coming from the beginning. You looked at me, this open wound oozing hurt and fear and anger, and you saw a person. You thought I was funny (admit it) and clever, and worth getting to know.
You gave me the space to say no to you, and loved me regardless.
I don’t think I’m nearly as powerful without you, darling. But over these months I’ve accomplished things I’m proud of all on my own, which is fairly unprecedented.
I’m beside myself with excitement to see you again, to give you a tour of this place. You’ll like what I did in the bedroom. And that’s not even a line, I genuinely think you’ll appreciate the color palette! It reminds me of you.
And maybe if you like it we can engage in some mutual appreciation, if you know what I mean.
I don't, but maybe you do. My pickup lines have gone all to shit without you, my muse.
My good list has several names on it now. Yours is still at the top. But you're not the sole thing keeping me afloat anymore. I thought that would make me feel distant from you in some way. I never realized it would give me even more space to appreciate you for who you are instead of what you provide.
Knowing I don’t need you gives me more room to want you, I think.
Anyway, I’m not sure I have another one of these installments in me. Thank you for reading this far, if you have. The version of you who is sitting at your kitchen table reading this (that’s a guess but wouldn’t it be funny if it was right?) has been my companion for all these months, and I cherish her as I cherish every other version of you.
A.
_______________
Sending this today.
I want to be clear, I don’t expect anything. I didn’t ask you to wait around pining for me for all this time, and I wouldn’t have wanted that anyway.
So if you’ve moved on, if you’re happier where you are, if getting this letter ruins your day–it’s alright. I will miss you, maybe forever, but I have friends and a new line of work and a handsome son (to be clear I’m referring to His Majesty, I didn’t give birth since the last time I wrote). All of these things will keep me afloat.
However, if your heart and your life still have room for me, and if you think I would improve them with my presence, I will be overjoyed to share all of these things with you.
I want to meet your sister and hear you try to make conversation with her toddler. I want to show you everything I’ve done to update the estate, and I want you to make it feel like home just by being there. I want to hear all of your thoughts on Jaheira and Nine-Fingers and speculate on their love life.
I want it all, and I want it all with you.
See you soon, my love.
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Letter with lipstick || Ada Wong x female reader
Warnings: none
(remind me if I missed any)
- Resident evil 4 masterlist link -
Y/N’s pov:
Earlier:
Sitting on my bed, i stared down at the letter in my hands. Her handwriting was beautiful, less of the words she wrote to me. She’s on a mission again, all the way in spain and couldn’t tell me one thing about it, neither why she was there. “It’s important”, she committed to the paper i was holding.
She just ended the letter with “Love, Ada”, as my eyes landed on the kiss she placed right next to it, with the lipstick she always wore. The kinda red i love seeing on her and she knew all about it. I let out a sigh, “The woman that you are, Ada.”, i said, folding it together again.
Ada and I are close, too close just to be partners. We ‘slipped’ one time and in the next moment you saw our lips all up on each others.
I missed her. I couldn’t stand the thought of now not seeing her again for who knows how long. She’s good at what she’s doing, fulfilling her job just for everyone to be more than satisfied and i was feeling proud of her, for how far she has come. But the thought of losing her, especially when she’s so far away, has taken over my brain.
I informed myself about the situation, asking everybody for detailed answers. Anybody needs to know where she’s at, no? They weren’t down right away to tell me, but eventually gave in. Who were they to stop her from going there? Exactly, she did her own thing, going after what’s happening in rural spain.
“I need you to take me there.”, i commanded, standing tall against them. There was nothing they could do about this either. I’m not easily giving up, someone must have the trust to let me ‘surprise’ my woman. At least that’s what i liked to call it. I know Ada will be more than caught off to see me, however she wouldn’t mind. Quite the opposite. I can’t expect much different than a nice welcome.
Present:
Now here i am. I’ve been dropped off by the helicopter and one of my kind co workers who brought me to this place. I can thank him a lot for this, i guess i owe him something but that’s not my worry yet. I have to find her. So i didn’t think much, i rather started looking at the area around me.
It looks like a farm, the area is completely destroyed. I walked over dead bodies, scrunching up my face in confusion. Nothing i’ve never seen before, but someone must’ve been the cause of this. Was it Ada?
I was informed about a little story, so i went careful into this. I was here for only one thing actually. Ada. Whatever comes in my way isn’t as much as important as her, nothing is. No one else. I was ready to be confronted by her pretty self and sped up my walking through the paths and winding ways.
I was prepared for everything. I had my weapons and all that i could possibly need. I’d do anything to bring us both out of here. Anything for us. She surely knows i don’t give up easily and most definitely wouldn’t on her. No one even compares to her and the way she makes me feel. There’s no one quite like Ada.
I needed answers though. Am i really on the right track? I guess i was answering my own questions and thoughts when i came across a giant creature laying eliminated on the ground. Who else could’ve defeated it? She was here, i was more than convinced.
I jogged along the stony and muddy path, when i suddenly heard something. I slowly moved forwards to where those sounds came from, confirming myself that i’m hearing voices. It was all blurry and i didn’t know whose it might be. Till i made out the statute of a familiar woman. My eyes landed on her, my woman.
“No way..”, i whispered to myself, taking one more step towards her. “Ada!”, i shouted, catching her attention. Her body turned around, slightly facing me. I felt something in my stomach, when i saw her face. She immediately recognized me, her gaze softening but then again with confusion written all over her. She was completely stunned and couldn’t seem to move.
“Y/N?”, she said in a questioning tone, as i moved over to where she was standing. I was about to open my mouth, before i glanced down. A man stood there, his eyebrows were furried together as my face expression could be read as jealous. Who the fuck is he?
“Y/N. Look at me.”, i heard her soothing voice close to my face, interrupting my staring interaction with that guy. I slowly turned my head, seeing the slight worry on her. “What are you doing here? How did you get here in the first place? Are you hurt?”, she placed her hand on my arm, only ever showing so much weakness around me.
“I’m okay, Ada. I came here just for one reason, it was a pretty long flight.”, i explained, looking into her eyes that always shined so beautiful. “What about you?”, i asked as she moved her hand down to grab my own. “I’m on this mission, i was doing fine till i saw you. Now i’m feeling even better.”, she gave me a small wink before that strange man interrupted us.
“Uhm? I’m still here.”, he said in a nervous tone, letting out a playful chuckle. “Who is-“, “I have a deal with him.”, Ada interrupted my question, knowing what i was about to ask. She knew how protective i can be of her. Not in a controlling way though, most things i do are out of worry, making sure she’s doing as okay as she always claims.
“I got a name too, lady.”, “I’m Luis. You must be that girlfriend Ada kept mentioning and talking about.”, he continued. Ada’s eyes widened in response as a smirk formed on my face. So she called me her girlfriend behind my back? “Well yes i am.”, i confirmed very proudly, as i could see a rose color appear on her cheeks.
I placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, taking her hand in mine. “I missed you, Ada.”, i whispered and watched her nervous state. “I missed you even more, Y/N.” I smiled at her, before looking down at Luis once more. “You surely don’t mind.”, i said, pulling Ada with me as we walked away from that scene.
“Hey! How am i supposed to get up here though?!”, Luis yelled after us, all desperate. We both chuckled to ourselves and i took Ada to a quiet place. I moved close to her body, our face just a few inches apart. “I came here just for you.”, i whispered, tilting my head a little to the side.
“Oh what would i do without you, Y/N.”, Ada responded in her typical flirty voice. “Be glad you have me.”, i muttered, closing the gap between us. It’s been way too long since the last time i felt her soft lips against mine. They tasted just like cherries.
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