#it's not even that he doesn't want to play with them himself he just has so much trouble telling when they want to

[puck-luck]

Hi, girly. I hope I find you fine.

I'd like to make a request with Quinn. Could you write something where reader is feeling down, like after a day of dealing with friends/family drama and she is just drained, plus they are at the lake house and yk all the boys are there but she doesn't feel like having dinner or hanging out with them, she just wants to cuddle and recharge and Q just excuses himself to be with her and hopefully makes her feel better.

Thank you so much 💓

warnings: cockwarming. that's IT. other than that, it's just domestic bliss.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1,229

note: thank you @skylershines for requesting this! sorry it took me a while to finish :,) this ask wasn't inherently sexual, but since i am a smut writer, i had to throw in a sexual element or two. i am not THE fluff girl on tumblr dot com LOL but love you girly

The boys are downstairs making a ruckus about something. You’re starting to wonder if they ever tire themselves out, or if they’re always full of energy like this. The day has been long and chock-full of activities and you’re… rather exhausted.

Maybe it’s because of all the sun you soaked up on the boat that’s making you sleepy. Maybe it’s the swimming you did or the wine with the big, filling, home-cooked meal that Quinn made. Maybe it’s from the flight from Vancouver to Michigan two days ago that’s making you so tired. Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re working from home– Quinn’s home– tomorrow and you can’t dedicate all your time to the fun happenings in the vacation home.

All in all, you don’t know what the root of your exhaustion is, but you know that there’s no way you want to leave this bed again today. You’re due for a good rot. You’ve got a book in hand and you’re all tucked in beneath the covers and the fact that it’s only 7:30pm doesn’t matter to you one bit. The sun hasn’t even started to set, but here you are, ready for bed.

Between the lines in your book, you can piece together what the boys are talking about downstairs. Trevor wants a bonfire. Jack and Luke want to go wakesurfing. Alex doesn’t care, but he wants someone to make a decision. Cole wants to stay in and play ping pong. You’re secretly hoping that the fact that you can’t really hear your boyfriend arguing with his brothers and friends means that he’ll be coming upstairs to join you soon.

It isn’t long before you hear feetsteps padding up the stairs and making their way towards the bedroom you share with Quinn. You continue reading, paying no mind to the man entering the room, but there’s a hint of a smile on your face. 

“Hey,” Quinn greets in a low, relaxed tone. He kisses the top of your head, hovering by your side of the bed. “The boys want to do something. Are you up for it?”

Not really. “What do they want to do?” you ask, not sure if they’d come to an agreement by the time Quinn joined you upstairs. You don’t really want to join the boys, but you don’t want to seem like a spoilsport during your first trip to the lakehouse. Being a recluse won’t get you any favors, no matter how much Quinn likes you. You might be able to go downstairs and sit by a bonfire or watch from the couch while the boys play ping pong. Sitting on the boat wouldn’t be that bad, but you’d have to change out of your pajamas (a cute little slip that you packed just for Quinn). You also know that “one hour on the boat” never actually means one hour on the boat. It always stretches into two or three. So, really, you’d rather stay in.

“Thinking about going out on the boat,” Quinn replies, because you’re really not that lucky when it comes down to it.

Again, you’re faced with a dilemma: you can go with them and feel tired and cranky or you can stay here and feel like you’re not being a good girlfriend by joining the group. There’s not really a good option. At least in this bed, you’ll be warm.

“I kind of just want to stay in bed, if that’s okay,” you tell Quinn with a small shrug. “But I don’t want them to think that I’m boring or anything. I’m just tired.”

Quinn lets out a laugh. “They don’t think you’re boring. Are you okay, though? I know your ‘just tired’ can mean something else sometimes.”

He’s so sweet. You’ve been with Quinn less than a year, but he’s still managed to note your idiosyncrasies and moods perfectly. “I’m okay, sweet boy.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

A wave of affection passes through you. “Do what you want, Q. You choose. I won’t say no to cuddling you all night, but don’t stay on my account.”

“Just let me tell the guys to go without me,” Quinn replies. He leans down and meets your lips. “Then I’ll be back.”

He departs, but his return is quick. He brings his own book and gets into his pajamas– nothing but his boxer shorts– before joining you under the covers. Quinn throws an arm over your shoulders and opens his book, settling in.

You read together in silence for a little while. You start to get bored and allow yourself two more chapters– after checking to see just how long those chapters were, six and eight pages respectively– before you close your book and set it on the nightstand. You slide down the bed a bit, wrapping your arm around Quinn’s waist and squishing your cheek against his chest. 

Quinn rubs your arm. “Sleepy, babe?” he asks.

You hum, turning your face into his bare skin and planting a kiss there. “You’re warm.”

Quinn breathes out a laugh. He pulls you closer; you’re practically on his lap now. You might as well finish the job and get comfortable, so you straddle Quinn and bury your face in his neck, kissing the skin there. Quinn brings his hand to your back and runs his fingers up and down the expanse of it in soothing motions. 

It tickles at first, making you squirm. After a minute or so, you relax into the touch– and a few minutes after that, you find yourself grinding down against Quinn’s rapidly-filling cock.

“Quinn,” you murmur in his ear. You pull back and meet his eyes, trying to convey what you want with just a look. 

You don’t want much. You’re still tired and drained from the day, completely washed out from the swimming and boating and sunbathing you’d been thinking of earlier. All you want is to have Quinn close.

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. He sets his book aside and encourages you to kneel up just enough that he can slide the waistband of his boxers down and free his cock. 

Greedily, you try to grind against his shaft as soon as it’s free, but Quinn halts you with a soft touch from his free hand. 

He fists the base of his cock and pulls the crotch of your panties to the side, using the pads of his deft fingers to spread your folds. His eyes are hooded and loving as his tip breaches your hole, and he starts to smile when you sink down and settle against him. 

“Oh,” you breathe out once you take him fully, clenching down and loosening your grip on his cock a few times before melting into Quinn. 

“Sweet girl,” Quinn praises in the tone that’s just for you. He plants his hands on your hips and kisses your lips.

Neither of you make an effort to move. In fact, you find yourself growing very drowsy in Quinn’s comforting arms. His distinct, tender touch has your head lulling forward, falling against his shoulder. Quinn breathes deeply and you follow, matching him. The smell of his bodywash fills your nose and you close your eyes, taking another breath.

It’s not inherently sexual, having Quinn’s cock inside you and his lips on your skin. It is, however, exactly what you needed after such an exhausting day.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

The thing that gets me right now about Buddie is that. There was a post I saw over a year ago that said something like, "Buck knows he's queer but not that he's in love with his best friend and Eddie knows he's in love with his best friend but not that he's queer," and how. just. that's what's tearing them both up inside.

Buck wants to be in love with Taylor, with Natalia, with Tommy. He's so happy to be out and aware that he's bi. But he's in love with Eddie. And that's horrible because that's his best friend. He can't ruin their friendship - the best thing in his life - by telling Eddie he's in love with him. He wants so badly to be in love with someone else so that he can have Eddie the way he thinks Eddie wants him - best friendship - and he can also have the romance and partner he craves.

And Eddie can't be in love with Buck. Because being in love with Buck means facing a part of him that will, in his mind, make his life messier and more complicated and oh JFC don't even get him started on his parents. You know that he wishes like anything that his best friend was a woman so that he could fall in love with Buck while also not having to look at that part of himself.

But the thing is - the fact that Eddie is Buck's best friend, and the fact that Buck is a man - is why they're in love.

Eddie thinks he has to be perfect and have it all under control to the point where he consistently makes life choices without consulting the people affected (Shannon, Chris, Buck, etc) because he thinks that's his job as Man of the House, as Father, as Husband, and he can't show the messy parts of himself. The crux of his issues with Ana and Marisol is that he never, ever, ever let them get in close. He'll fuck them, he'll play house with them, but he will never actually let them in. If Buck was a woman, Eddie would never have let Buck get in close. He never would have let Buck step in with Chris, with his breakdown, with all of it. But because it was wrapped up in the nebulous 'best friendship' umbrella and Buck wasn't someone Eddie thought he could (or should) want sexually/romantically, he did. He doesn't need to provide, take care of, or play a heternormative role for Buck, and that's how Buck snuck in there.

Of course you fell in love with your best friend who's a man, Eddie. It was never going to be any other way.

And Buck thinks that falling in love with his best friend means he's constantly on the edge of ruining his life and Eddie's life and he wishes so badly to fall in love with someone else and doesn't realize that it's Eddie being his best friend that has him so deeply in love. Buck never performed for Eddie. Because he didn't see Eddie as a romantic option he didn't do any of the over the top things he tends to do for his romances, and he didn't hide the parts of himself out of fear that partner won't like them. Buck just stepped inside with Eddie and supported him. He had no expectations, no plans, so he just let the relationship - the love - grow naturally. Buck is so fucking desperate to be loved and to have a partner, to have the relationships he sees the rest of his family having, and it means he'll chop off pieces of himself, he'll put himself last, he'll do anything to be what he thinks the other person wants and needs, and he'll rush WAY too fast into intimacy and generally just. make a mess. But Eddie's just Eddie. He's the best friend. So Buck pushes Eddie when Eddie needs it. He's patient. He lets Eddie see all of himself, and he calls Eddie out when Eddie's done something that hurts Buck, and apologizes in turn. He had no expectations. He didn't hide.

Of course you fell in love with your best friend, Buck. It was never going to be any other way.

And they are both so fucking convinced they are in a tragedy. Wanting the one person they can't have. Can't be with a man, this will fuck up my entire life, and why would he want me anyway. Can't be with my best friend, this will fuck up my entire life, and he couldn't want me anyway. They have no idea what genre they're really in.

They think they're in a tragedy, but they're in a romance, and they do say your partner should be your best friend.

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about Eddie being so eager to kiss you all the time and he just gets a little too excited sometimes a little too rough and you bump into something and he cradles you while you giggle cause he can't stop smiling into his kisses

And sure maybe it's a little awkward and teeth knock against each other and he catches your lip in his teeth a little too hard but it's okay cause you're deliriously happy

And it's not about getting to the sex (not all the time anyways) but he's just so happy to have found a safe place to land and he's enthusiastic that he found someone who wants to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you

And this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big and he doesn't need to tone it down cause you're his person and he's yours

Okay bye ily

mouse. mouse get the fuck back here. MOUSE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

he's just so happy to have a safe place to land and this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big were daggers straight to my heart you come back here right now before i actually bleed out from needing this man so badly.

no but thats exactly it. eddie has spent so long jumping and toeing that line of either trying to cram himself into this bite-sized shape for the ones around him, and just exploding and pretending he doesn't give a fuck that he will never fit into anyone's cup of tea so he'll just make himself even larger, that when you enter his life he just doesnt know what to do about it.

because he starts with his regular tricks of being so over the top, so unbearable, and all you're doing is laughing and entertaining his antics. even playing along at times. and so he retracts a little, turning back into a quiet boy who will shrivel up until he's invisible or easy to love (whichever comes first). but then that doesn't work - and to be truthful, he doesn't even know what his mind's end goal is here because why is he trying to push you away so desperately? - and he's just at a loss. you want him on the thundering days, where he makes his grey clouds everyone's problem and all his lightning is blinding and sporadic. you want him on the quiet days, where the downpour is no longer a roar but a soft drizzle, a bit more silent and a bit more bearable but still there. and he can't tell if it's a joke - he can't decipher if your kisses amidst his rambles are sincere, if you're actually smiling at his jokes because you like him or you're too polite to break his heart. he can't see through those gentle hands you use to caress back his wild hair to be sure that the softest of touches are really just you, or some strange gloves of care that you're only simply wearing for now.

and then one morning, he wakes up, and you're still there, awake before he is and just watching him with so much love. feather-light fingers taking their time tracing over his tattoo on his chest and arms, not noticing he's awake yet as you smile so serenely at him. you're looking at him in a way that he's never really gotten to experience so vulnerably before - like he isn't a nuisance, isn't a mistake. like the universe has so intentionally dropped him into your palms, and you're so aware of how delicate he can be below the surface. and he just breaks.

"i love you"

he'd blurt it out, the first time he's ever said those words to you. it almost feels like the first time he's said those words, period.

he's said them to wayne, in their own way, both a bit stiff in expressing affection and skirting around those words whenever they can for a simply ruffle of hair or unexpected side hugs. he'd said them to his mom, a young boy with shining eyes despite it all, looking at her like she was the world because she was his world.

and... well. that's it. he can count the number of times he's said those words on one hand, and now he's said them to you, and all he can hope is you handle them with as much care as you've handled him.

he hopes you can feel the weight of his heart pressing down on them.

and he thinks you do, when you startle a little, looking up to his lips where those rough words had just fallen from in a cracking tone, and you take your time in awarding him with a smile that could save lives. cure cancer, cure sadness, cure the end of the world even. every cliche possible.

"yeah?" you'd whisper back, and his heart skips a beat, terrified that the next words you say won't be what he needs to hear so desperately. but they are. because of course they are. you wouldn't have been watching him sleep in that way if they hadn't been on the tip of your tongue, "i love you."

not a crash landing, but a soft-padded decent. a slow fall with a cushion to prevent broken bones and more invisible scars.

he kisses you then the way he was going to kiss you every day going forward: pushing forward recklessly, teeth and noses bumping a little, smiles making it nearly impossible. he kisses you like he's coming home after a long day, because he is.

he's home. no boxes in sight to fit into, no cups that'll overflow from all the fizzling feelings pouring out of his chest. you've got him, and he's got you.

[writeriguess]

Hello! I hope you had a great day/night🥰

I was wondering If you could make a smutty fem reader x katsuki bakugo

the reader and bakugo have been together for some time and every time they had sex nothing really happened, the did it, did aftercare and went to bed (most of the times) but this time the reader was at bakugo's house visiting him but for some reason bakugo gets riled up and wants to do it with the reader, his parents weren't in the house anyway so he didn't need to stress about someone interrupting so in the end they end up having sex.

But katsukis mom and dad comes early and he doesn't notice, while the reader and katsuki are doing their thing Mitsuki hears strange noises come from bakugos bedroom. She ends up curious and walks towards his room to find out what was happening but then is meet with you and katsuki.

Katsuki gets really embarrassed but mitsuki isn't mad, instead she shouts "Are you finally making my grandkids"

You don't need to write a fanfic about this! You have full right to delete! But this is just an idea that has been roaming in my head for days and I just really want someone to write a fic abt this😅

Anyways! I won't be sad or mad if you delete this, write it if only you're comfortable❤️

(Also sorry for shifting between bakugo and katsuki I didn't know which of them to use😅)

Heat of the Moment

The thing about Bakugo was that he had control. Most of the time.

Sure, he had a temper, and yeah, he was easy to rile up in a fight, but when it came to you? He always kept himself in check. He never let himself get too lost in it, never let his instincts take over, because he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

That was… until tonight.

You weren’t even trying to be subtle. Maybe it was the fact that his parents were gone, maybe it was just because you wanted to push his buttons, but every little thing you did was setting him off.

The way you sat so close to him on the couch, your thigh pressed against his. The way your fingers lazily traced the muscles in his forearm while you pretended to be watching the movie on the screen. The way you leaned in, lips just barely ghosting over his ear as you whispered, “You’re so tense, Katsuki… want me to help you relax?”

And fuck, he tried. He really fucking tried to ignore it. To just smirk and brush it off like you weren’t making his dick throb with every slow, deliberate movement.

But when you climbed onto his lap, straddling him without a second thought, and rolled your hips down against the growing bulge in his sweats?

That was it. That was the fucking breaking point.

His hands were on you in an instant, rough and possessive as he grabbed your waist and slammed you back down against his hard length. “You think you’re fuckin’ cute, don’t you?” His voice was low, dangerous, but the way his cock twitched against you gave away just how much you were affecting him.

You bit your lip, looking down at him with those teasing eyes that had been driving him insane all night. “Maybe,” you mused, rolling your hips again, slow and deliberate. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

A guttural growl rumbled in his chest before he flipped you onto your back, pressing you into the couch with his weight. His knee shoved between your thighs, spreading you open for him as he loomed over you, crimson eyes dark and full of hunger.

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot more than something, baby,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. One hand shot under your shirt, fingers finding your breast and squeezing, rolling your nipple between his rough fingertips as his other hand slid down to your shorts. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You gasped as he shoved your shorts down, not bothering with finesse. His fingers slid between your thighs, pressing against your already slick folds. “Fuck,” he groaned, a smirk tugging at his lips. “All this from a little teasing? You’re such a fuckin’ slut for me, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, hips arching into his touch, and he chuckled darkly. “Nah, don’t even try to play shy now. You wanted this.”

And then he was lining up, shoving his sweats down just enough to free his cock. Thick, hard, already leaking precum. He didn’t even tease—he just grabbed your hips, lined up, and thrust inside in one deep stroke.

The stretch was sudden, almost too much, but fuck, the way he groaned against your neck made it impossible to care. “So fuckin’ tight,” he growled, giving you barely a second to adjust before pulling out and slamming back in, hard and fast.

You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist as he set a relentless pace, hips snapping against yours with loud, wet slaps. Every thrust had your head spinning, had your body arching up into him as he fucked you deep into the couch.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, huh?” he panted, lips brushing against your ear. “Wanted me to snap? Wanted me to fuck you like I couldn’t wait another second?”

You moaned, nails digging into his back, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he drove into you even harder. “You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, lips trailing down your neck, sucking a mark into your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect—made for me.”

His name fell from your lips over and over, breathless and desperate, and he drank in every sound, every little whimper. “Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, pounding into you with reckless abandon. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

You didn’t even need to be told. The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure hitting you like a shockwave as your walls clamped down around him. Your whole body shook, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as you came hard around his cock.

Bakugo snarled, hips stuttering as he chased his own release, burying himself as deep as he could before spilling inside you with a guttural groan. His grip on your wrists tightened as he rode it out, panting against your neck before finally collapsing on top of you.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing of both of you trying to come back down from the high. Then, finally, Bakugo chuckled, low and satisfied.

“Next time you wanna tease me,” he murmured, voice still husky from exertion, “just tell me you wanna get fucked stupid, princess.”

You giggled breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp hair. “Noted.”

Though, judging by the way his cock twitched inside you again, it seemed like one round wasn’t going to be enough tonight.

A while later, you were on it again.

Katsuki had barely given you a break before he was all over you, flipping you onto your stomach and muttering about how you were gonna “pay for riling him up like that.” Not that you were complaining.

The only problem? He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the front door open.

Didn’t hear the sound of keys dropping into the bowl.

Didn’t hear the unmistakable click of his mother’s heels as she walked down the hallway.

You, on the other hand, froze the second you heard a voice call out:

“We’re home! Bakugo, did you clean the—”

And then, before either of you could react, before Katsuki could even think to move—

The bedroom door swung open.

Mitsuki Bakugo stood there, eyes wide, taking in the absolute disaster of a scene before her. Her son, bare-ass naked, hovering over you. Your face buried in the pillow, Katsuki’s hands gripping your hips. The sheer horror on your face as you registered what was happening.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

“HOLY FUCK, MOM—!”

Katsuki launched himself off of you, scrambling for the sheets in sheer panic. You barely managed to yank a blanket over yourself before Mitsuki’s voice rang through the house:

“ARE YOU FINALLY MAKING MY GRANDKIDS?!”

You wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. Instant cardiac arrest. Take me now.

Katsuki’s face was redder than his damn explosions. “WHAT THE HELL, OLD HAG? GET OUT!!”

But Mitsuki wasn’t done. No, she was grinning. Grinning. Hands on her hips like this was the best news of her life.

“Damn, about time!” she continued, ignoring the way Katsuki was practically combusting. “I was starting to think you were incapable—”

“SHUT UP!!” Katsuki grabbed the nearest object—a pillow—and launched it at her with enough force to send it flying down the hallway.

Mitsuki just cackled, dodging effortlessly. “Make sure you’re using protection, brat—unless you’re actually trying to give me grandkids—”

“OUT!!”

With one last laugh, she finally strolled out, still muttering about how she was “too young to be a grandma, but still, wouldn’t mind a little mini-Katsuki running around.”

The moment the door slammed shut, Katsuki flopped onto his back, covering his face with both hands.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you could speak.

Until finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered:

“…So, uh. Round three?”

Katsuki groaned. “I hate you.”

But the way he rolled back over you said otherwise.

[girlkisser13]

being married to choso kamo would include

• choso is incredibly serious about being your husband. he loves the title, loves the weight it carries. "my wife." "my husband." every time he says it, it’s filled with quiet pride.

• he didn’t use to think much about the future— until you. with you, he pictures years together, a quiet home, growing old side by side.

• choso values peace and routine. your home is a space where he feels safe, grounded, and truly at ease.

• your home is simple, cozy, and full of warmth. he’s not one for extravagant things, but he wants your space to feel comfortable.

• he wakes up before you most mornings, sitting by the window with a cup of tea, enjoying the stillness of the world before it wakes up.

• he likes keeping things organized. he doesn’t mind cleaning or cooking— it’s just another way for him to care for you.

• he takes care of small things for you without being asked. fixing things around the house, making sure you always have water before bed, placing a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch.

• he enjoys the little moments of domestic life with you. whether it’s folding laundry together, cooking side by side, or simply sitting in silence reading, he finds comfort in sharing these everyday experiences with you.

• he always makes sure you’re warm. he’ll drape a blanket over your shoulders, wrap his arms around you, and pull you closer on cold nights.

• he doesn't like loud, chaotic environments, but if you enjoy them, he'll go with you without complaint— just to make sure you're safe.

• he enjoys silence, but the most comforting kind— the type where words aren't needed, where you both just exist together, completely at ease.

• he loves having you close, even in quiet moments. he doesn’t need constant conversation— just being near you is enough for him.

• he's an excellent listener. if you need to vent about your day, he'll sit with you, nodding, offering quiet reassurances and rubbing slow circles on your back.

• physical touch is his main love language. he’s always reaching for you— holding your hand, resting a hand on your back, pulling you into his lap whenever he can.

• he gives the BEST hugs. 

• when he holds you, it’s firm, grounding, and completely consuming. he’ll bury his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

• he kisses you slowly, deeply, and with purpose. every kiss lingers, filled with a love so strong it doesn’t need words.

• he’s not one for rushed pecks— he makes sure every kiss lingers, that you feel just how much he loves you.

• he loves playing with your hair. if you sit close enough, he’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through it, completely lost in the sensation.

• he's very aware of your emotions. if you're upset or stressed, he'll wordlessly pull you into his lap, letting you rest against his chest as he strokes your hair.

• he doesn't often say "i love you" outright, but he shows it in small ways— pulling you into his arms, making sure you're warm, bringing you your favorite snacks.

• when he does say it, it's quiet, deep, full of meaning. "i love you. more than anything."

• he finds comfort in your presence. when he’s tired, he’ll pull you onto his lap or rest his head against your shoulder, needing nothing more than to be near you.

• if you ever initiate affection, he gets flustered. he’ll blink in surprise, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, but he secretly loves it when you catch him off guard.

• choso has lost too much already— he refuses to lose you.

• he is incredibly protective. if anyone so much as makes you uncomfortable, his entire demeanor changes. his normally calm expression turns cold, his presence becoming a silent but terrifying warning.

• he positions himself between you and danger instinctively. whether it’s crossing the street or facing an actual threat, he will always shield you without hesitation.

• if you ever get hurt, even in the smallest way, he gets incredibly worried. he’ll inspect every scratch, tending to your wounds with a seriousness that makes you laugh. "it’s just a cut, choso." "it could get infected."

• he will never let you face danger alone. if there’s even a hint of a threat, he’s at your side instantly, ready to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

• if you ever cry, he doesn’t ask questions— he just pulls you into his arms, letting you bury yourself against his chest. he’ll hold you as long as you need, murmuring quiet reassurances until you feel safe again.

• he never yells. even if he’s upset, he keeps his voice calm, steady, because he never wants to hurt you.

• if he’s wrong, he’ll admit it. he doesn’t let pride get in the way— his relationship with you is more important than winning an argument.

• if he hurts your feelings, he feels incredibly guilty. he’ll hold your hands in his, looking into your eyes as he quietly apologizes. "i never want to hurt you. i’m sorry."

• we LOVE an emotionally intelligent man.

• after an argument, he always stays close. even if you need space, he won’t go far— just in case you need him.

• if you’re upset with him, he gets quiet and withdrawn— not because he’s angry, but because he’s afraid he hurt you. He just needs you to reach for him, to remind him you’re not going anywhere.

• he takes care of you in every way he can. making sure you eat, making sure you’re warm, holding you close when the world feels too heavy.

• he never stops showing his love. even decades into marriage, he’ll still pull you into his arms, still hold your hand under the table, still look at you like you’re his entire world.

• to him, you are family now. you are the person he would give everything for, the one he will protect, cherish, and stand beside for the rest of his life.

• even if he doesn’t always have the words to say it, you will never doubt how deeply, how wholly, and how eternally he loves you. <33

[lexirosewrites]

Steve ends up boding with Nancy that first night they sleep together and Barb disappears. He's so in love with her and they're having sex for the first time and he's never slept with someone he loved before and he ends up sinking his teeth into her mating glad without even realizing it.

Nancy is not happy about it. She likes Steve a lot but she promised herself that she would never be someone who mates before they graduate high school and become just like her parents. She wants to chase her dreams and make it as a female Alpha in journalism, but she also feels honor bound to Steve. She ends up biting him back to spare him the hurt of an unfulfilled bond.

Her parents are a little concerned they're both so young but they ultimately approve and Steve's parents are just happy to know he won't continue to be a burden after he turns 18 and graduates and it will legally be his Alpha's job to take care of him. With no access to one of the fancy bond removal specialists in New York or Chicago, Nancy resigns herself to the bond and taking Steve with her into her future.

Steve, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He loves his Alpha and can't wait for them to move out and start a family of their own. Nancy makes sure to treat him gently, even if sometimes it feels like she sees him as a stereotypical airheaded Omega. Even when he can feel the little pull of tension in their bond.

He's happy right up until it becomes clear that Nancy would rather be with Beta Johnathan Byers than him. He can feel it, see it, but refuses to accept it. When she comes to him after their first encounter with the Demagorgan and asks if he would be open to adding a beta to their bond, he's so relieved that she isn't just leaving him to say anything but yes, even if it's not really what he wants.

Again, they are both very sweet to him but it feels more like he's their pet than their partner. They hold him and cuddle him but they don't talk to him about anything of substance or make him feel important. He feels like a third wheel in his own relationship. But he has no one else to turn to with his old friends and parents out of the picture.

By the time the events of season two start to play out everyone in school has noticed that Nancy spends more time with Johnathan in the dark room than with Steve. Rumors start flying around about Nancy and Johnathan trying to push him out of the bond and Steve's social position falls even further. He's trying to be a good Omega, but it feels like every time he reaches out he's turned away.

That night at Tina's party Nancy and Steve fight. They were all three supposed to come together but Johnathan ended up going with Will instead. Nancy tried to insist that none of them go, but Steve insisted that they could have fun together and meet up with Johnathan afterward.

Nancy ends up drinking way too much and lays into Steve when he tries to help her. She goes on about them killing Barb and pretending nothing happened as well as how she never wanted to bond with Steve in the first place. Goes on about how he's ruining her life.

Steve goes near catatonic after that, rejection sickness setting in quickly. He gets in his car and drives, finds himself parked outside the Wheeler house where he spends most of his nights. He can't go back to his parents' house, doesn't have anywhere else to go, so he just curls up in the back seat of his car and passes out.

That's how Dustin finds him the next day. Nancy clearly didn't look for him, which hurts, but the smell of puppy distress coming off of Dustin is enough to pull him out of his distress long enough to help. His Alpha may not love him, but Steve loves kids and won't let anything happen to one under his watch.

After El closes the gate, it's like the three of them (John, Nancy, and Steve) all agree to pretend none of it happened. Nancy doesn't apologize, John doesn't explain, and Steve doesn't ask, but he also doesn't forget. His new pack bond with the kids is enough to keep him stable, but he knows now that his Alpha doesn't want him and spends almost every moment with them disassociating. They must feel it through their links (Steve to Nancy, Nancy to John) but they chose not to acknowledge it. They let Steve float because it's easier for them to pretend this thing between them isn't broken.

When summer hits Steve starts applying for jobs just to get out of the house. The three of them moved into a small apartment, a gift from Ted Wheeler, during Spring Break and Steve needs an excuse to get out of there. He hasn't even bothered to make a nest in their new bed. He doesn't think Nancy has even noticed, but John gives him pitying looks that he blatantly ignores.

With Scoops comes Robin. Steve instantly likes her, even if she bullies him relentlessly. At least she sees him. At least she can look him in the eye and tell him she thinks Nikes are lame and commiserate about the terrible sailor music on blast 24/7.

When they get sucked into Russian plots and drugged within an inch of their lives, they spill their guts both figuratively and literally. She tells him about being an Alpha who only likes other female Alphas and Betas and he tells her all about his failed bond. Tells her how trapped he feels.

When all is said and done, Ronin refuses to let him go back to Nancy and Johnathan. She bundles him up in one of those dumb tinfoil blankets the paramedics give them and bares her teeth at anyone who comes too close. She takes him home with her and when Nancy comes asking questions like she actually cares what happens to Steve she tells her to fuck off, and when that doesn't work she grabs her dad to force her off the property.

Once Steve recovers physically from the torture, Robin tells her she knows someone who might be able to help. Someone who could break the bond.

It's illegal in the state of Indiana to break a bond, but Eddie Munson isn't exactly a God-fearing, law-abiding Alpha.

------

Aaaaaaand that's where I'll leave it. Ran out of steam a little but rest assured that Steve and Eddie will fall deeply in love almost immediately and have a million babies after Eddie helps Steve get rid of his bond.

Sorry this is so Nancy negative. I love her so much but with Omegaverse dynamics she always turns so evil. To be fair, she is very young and was trying to do the right thing, at first. I could never hate you Nancy Wheeler!

i will give you one million dollars for a full fic of this😵‍💫

[illarian-rambling]

I perceive all my ocs as good-looking, but then again I think most people are good-looking <3

Izjik probably isn't everyone's type - she's a butch woman with a strongman build and a wide sort of face. However, she is very much my type, I think she's gorgeous. Izjik is well aware of the sort of people (lesbians) she attracts.

Sepo is objectively attractive. He has a very symmetrical face and silky, wavy hair. The permanent "burn your house down" eyes don't do him any favors though... Which he's all the happier for. He didn't want to talk to you anyways.

Twenari is a cute kid but she also has resting arcane madness face, so notes of scary in there too. She's a teen with no social skills, so she's pretty insecure about how she looks.

Djek is hot in a twink way despite being straight. He doesn't take the best care of himself, so his buzzcut always looks kinda messy and he reeks of cheap cologne, but his skincare game is somehow immaculate. Djek is ok with everyone thinking he's gay, that just means he's dressing well.

Astra is damn hot. Maybe this is just me being gay, but she's got a wonderfully curvy body, her curls are bouncy and energetic, and she's got the most beautiful smile. Her vitiligo got her called ugly or diseased as a kid a fair bit, however, she thinks she's decent-looking no matter what.

Mashal is a cutie in robot or human form, idgaf. He's built with broad shoulders and a slim waist, and his fashion sense is very put-together. He does not think he's beautiful though, not even a little. Mashal would be shocked if he knew most people saw him as fairly attractive, metal body and all.

Ivander, with his illusion, looks like a cunty cartoon villain. Slicked back hair, goatee, the works. The blue skin and double pointed ears might throw some people, but I'd bet those piercings eyes would draw them right back in. Ivander paid a lot for a face as handsome as his illusion. Underneath it, he would call his true face hideous. The kinder word would simply be scarred.

Elsind, in their true form, is beautiful in a sea anemone kind of way. Their headfins wave in an invisible current, their mauve skin all but glowing with moisture. Though many would call them freakish, Elsind has long learned to love their changeling appearance. They would never want to be something other than what they are.

Avymere is a tough one, because while they've got great bone structure, they violate so many Skysheerian beauty standards. We here on Earth would think they look like if you smashed Legolas and Bayonetta into one person, but in Skysheer, there are a lot of mixed opinions on their tan, their short hair, and their wiry muscle. Avymere doesn't mind, as it serves the role they play: that of a kindhearted but ultimate dull noble too oblivious to follow a trend.

Faalgun is a dnd kobold basically. I don't think he's hot (if you do, more power to you) but I do think he's cool looking with his opalescent horns and blue scales. I also think he's adorable - he's got that cute snake puppy face. Most people in-universe also think he's adorable, which he despises. He's a grown man, he doesn't have time for that.

Nyda is a vision of a punk butch woman. She's got a face full of piercings, a green mohawk, and diy clothes. Her build is like a rock climber. I think she's hot as fuck, she thinks she's hot as fuck, most people think she's a little scary looking, but that's how she likes it.

Kaulakri is pretty in the exact opposite way of Nyda. She's got sleek hair, a practical sweater, and big dark eyes. Everything about her is soft and rounded except for her no-nonsense attitude. She honestly couldn't give a damn if she's pretty or not, she's got other stuff going on.

Pash is cute, if a little unsettling. It's mostly the red teeth and bits of fur that throw people. Other than that though, he looks like any other young bisexual man with a mullet. He likes being pretty, it let's him get away with more bullshit.

Anarac is mostly just rough looking. Dude looks tired before anything else. Even so, underneath that, he's got a kind smile, warm brown eyes, and broad shoulders. He was definitely a catch before the whole hive mind thing. If you cleaned him up a bit, he's a total dilf.

Do others perceive your OC as physically attractive? How does your OC feel about this?

[dumb-ster-fire]

Azriel x fem!Reader - Between Shadow and Sunlight - Part 3

Azriel x fem!reader, Helion x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW , Minors DNI

Summary: Y/N has always danced around the tension with Azriel-but how much longer can he deny it? When Helion pulls her into his arms at a Day Court ball, Azriel tells himself it doesn't matter. But as he watches her laugh, watches Helion's hands linger, jealousy coils tight. Shadows stir, and for the first time, Y/N wonders if Azriel will finally stop running from what's always been there between them.

Part 1 , Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ballroom hums with music and laughter, the air thick with the scent of wine and the faint, sweet tang of magic. Y/N stands near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of wine in hand, her gaze flicking lazily across the room. She’s acutely aware of Azriel’s presence, even though he’s tucked into the shadows, his hazel eyes tracking her every move. She smirks to herself, swirling the wine in her glass.

Helion approaches, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “Starlight,” he purrs, his voice smooth as silk. “You’ve been neglecting me.”

Y/N turns to him, her lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Neglecting you? I thought you’d be busy basking in your own radiance.”

Helion chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “Ah, but even the sun needs a little moonlight to shine brighter.” He offers her his hand. “Care to dance?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder, her eyes briefly meeting Azriel’s. She holds his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then turns back to Helion with a playful tilt of her head. “Why not?”

As they step onto the dance floor, Y/N lets herself lean into Helion’s touch, her movements fluid and deliberate. She’s not just dancing with him—she’s putting on a show. Her laughter rings out, bright and genuine, as Helion spins her, his hands lingering just a fraction longer than propriety allows. She catches the way Azriel’s shadows coil tighter around him, the way his jaw tenses ever so slightly.

“You’re enjoying this,” Helion murmurs, his breath warm against her ear as he pulls her close.

Y/N smirks, her voice low and teasing. “And you’re not?”

Helion’s golden eyes spark with amusement. “Oh, I’m enjoying it immensely. But I can’t help but wonder… who exactly are you trying to provoke?”

Y/N’s gaze flicks toward Azriel again, her smirk deepening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Helion laughs, the sound rich and full. “You’re a dangerous one, starlight. I like it.”

As the music shifts into something slower, more intimate, Helion’s hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N lets him, her body aligning with his as they move together. She’s hyper-aware of Azriel’s gaze burning into her, but she doesn’t look his way. Not yet. Instead, she tilts her head back, her lips brushing dangerously close to Helion’s ear.

“You’re not afraid of a little competition, are you?” she murmurs, her voice a velvet whisper.

Helion’s grip tightens ever so slightly. “Competition? My dear, I thrive on it.”

Y/N laughs softly, the sound like a challenge. “Good.”

From the shadows, Azriel watches, his expression unreadable but his shadows betraying him. They writhe and twist, curling around him like restless serpents. He doesn’t move, doesn’t intervene, but the tension in his posture is unmistakable.

Cassian, ever the instigator, sidles up to him with a grin. “You’re just going to stand here and let her dance with him all night?”

Azriel doesn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “She can dance with whoever she wants.”

Cassian snorts. “Sure. And I’m the High Lord of Dawn.”

Azriel ignores him, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she leans in to whisper something to Helion, her lips brushing his ear. The shadows around Azriel darken, and Cassian chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re so screwed, brother.”

On the dance floor, Y/N feels the weight of Azriel’s gaze like a physical touch. She knows she’s playing with fire, but she can’t help herself. There’s something intoxicating about the way he watches her, the way his control frays ever so slightly with every move she makes.

Helion spins her again, his hand sliding up her arm in a way that’s just shy of possessive. “You’re quite the enigma, you know,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I can’t decide if I want to unravel you or simply admire you from afar.”

Y/N tilts her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Why not both?”

Helion’s laugh is warm, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something that tells her he’s not entirely immune to her games. “Careful, starlight. You might find yourself in over your head.”

Y/N’s gaze flicks toward Azriel again, her smirk deepening. “I can handle myself.”

As the music slows to a stop, Helion dips her low, his face inches from hers. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. Then he pulls her back up, his hand lingering at her waist. “Until next time,” he murmurs, his voice rich with promise.

Y/N steps back, her smile playful. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Helion walks away, Y/N turns to find Azriel standing just a few feet away, his shadows curling around him like a living thing. She meets his gaze, her expression all innocence. “Enjoy the show?”

Azriel’s voice is low, smooth, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down her spine. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Y/N steps closer, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “And if I am?”

Azriel’s gaze drops to her lips, then back to her eyes. “You might not like the consequences.”

Y/N tilts her head, her smile slow and deliberate. “Or maybe I’ll love them.”

The tension between them crackles like a live wire, and for a moment, neither of them moves. Then Azriel steps closer, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t play games.”

Y/N’s lips curve into a smirk. “Good. Neither do I.”

And with that, she turns on her heel, leaving Azriel standing there, his shadows coiled tightly around him, his gaze burning into her back.

From across the room, Cassian lets out a low whistle. “Well, that was… something.”

Mor grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Y/N, for her part, feels a thrill of satisfaction as she sips her wine. She’s not done playing yet—not by a long shot. And if Azriel thinks he can outmaneuver her, he’s in for a very rude awakening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The refreshment table is a lavish spread of decadent treats—glistening fruits, delicate pastries, and goblets of wine that shimmer under the golden light of the ballroom. Y/N stands there, her back to the room, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the chandeliers. She picks up a cherry, its deep red skin glistening, and rolls it between her fingers with deliberate slowness.

Azriel watches her from across the room, his shadows curling restlessly around him. He’s been trying to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of control, but she’s making it impossible. Every move she makes, every glance she throws his way, is a challenge—one he’s finding harder and harder to resist.

Y/N lifts the cherry to her lips, her gaze flicking to Azriel’s. She holds his stare as she takes a slow, deliberate bite, the juice staining her lips a deep crimson. She licks the sweetness away, her tongue tracing the curve of her bottom lip, and Azriel’s jaw tightens.

Cassian, standing beside him, lets out a low whistle. “She’s really trying to kill you, isn’t she?”

Azriel doesn’t respond. His eyes are locked on Y/N as she picks up another cherry, her movements languid and unhurried. She pops it into her mouth, her lips closing around it with a soft, almost obscene sound. Azriel’s shadows writhe, and Cassian chuckles.

“You’re just going to stand there and let her torment you?” Cassian asks, his tone equal parts amused and incredulous.

Azriel’s voice is low, rough. “She’s enjoying herself.”

“And you’re not?” Cassian counters, raising a brow.

Azriel doesn’t answer. He’s too focused on Y/N, on the way she’s toying with him, on the way she’s making him feel things he’s spent centuries burying.

Y/N, for her part, is reveling in the effect she’s having on him. She picks up a third cherry, holding it between her fingers as she turns to face him fully. Her eyes gleam with mischief as she steps away from the table, her movements slow and deliberate. She stops a few feet away from him, her gaze never leaving his.

“Care for a cherry, shadowsinger?” she asks, her voice low and sultry.

Azriel’s eyes darken, his shadows curling tighter around him. “I’m not hungry.”

Y/N smirks, stepping closer. “Are you sure? They’re… delicious.” She holds the cherry up, her fingers brushing against her lips as she does so. Azriel’s gaze drops to her mouth, and she sees the way his throat works as he swallows.

Cassian, sensing the tension, takes a step back. “I’m just… going to go find Mor. You two have fun.”

Y/N doesn’t even glance at him as he leaves. Her focus is entirely on Azriel, on the way his body tenses as she steps even closer, until there’s barely a breath of space between them.

“You’re playing with fire,” Azriel murmurs, his voice rough.

Y/N tilts her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Maybe I like the heat.”

She lifts the cherry to his lips, her fingers brushing against them as she does so. Azriel’s breath hitches, and for a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, slowly, he opens his mouth, letting her place the cherry on his tongue. His lips close around her fingers, and Y/N feels a jolt of heat shoot through her at the contact.

She pulls her hand back slowly, her gaze locked with his. “Well?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you like it?”

Azriel’s eyes burn into hers as he chews slowly, deliberately. “It’s… sweet.”

Y/N’s smirk deepens. “Not too sweet, I hope.”

Azriel steps closer, his shadows wrapping around them like a cocoon. “You’re pushing your luck, Y/N.”

Y/N tilts her head back, her lips brushing against his as she speaks. “Or maybe I’m just getting started.”

Azriel’s hand comes up to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. “And if I am?”

Azriel’s gaze drops to her lips, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Then you’d better be prepared for the consequences.”

Y/N’s heart races, but she holds his gaze, her voice steady. “I’m not afraid of you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. “You should be.”

And then he kisses her.

It’s not gentle, not tentative. It’s fierce and demanding, a claiming that leaves no room for doubt. Y/N’s hands come up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket as she kisses him back with equal fervor. The world around them fades away, leaving only the heat of their bodies, the taste of cherries and wine on their lips, the electric charge of desire that crackles between them.

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing heavily. Azriel’s eyes are dark with need, his shadows coiled tightly around them. Y/N’s lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, but her smirk is as wicked as ever.

“Well,” she murmurs, her voice husky. “That was… unexpected.”

Azriel’s thumb brushes over her bottom lip again, his gaze intense. “You’ve been pushing me all night, Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t push back?”

Y/N’s smile is slow, deliberate. “I was hoping you would.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a smirk of his own. “Careful what you wish for.”

Y/N’s eyes gleam with challenge. “Oh, I’m not afraid of you, Azriel. In fact… I think I’m just getting started.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Then let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

And with that, he pulls her back into him, his lips claiming hers once more as the shadows wrap around them, shielding them from the prying eyes of the ballroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The kiss is savage, a clash of teeth and tongues that leaves them both breathless. Y/N’s hands claw at Azriel’s shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket as his shadows envelop them, shielding them from the world. The music of the ballroom fades into a distant hum, the chatter of guests dissolving into nothingness. All that exists is the heat of their bodies, the taste of each other, the electric pull that has been building all night.

Azriel breaks the kiss just long enough to growl against her lips, his voice rough with need. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane all night.”

Y/N smirks, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “Good. That was the point.”

Azriel’s eyes darken, his hands tightening on her waist. “You’re going to regret teasing me.”

Y/N arches a brow, her lips brushing his as she speaks. “Prove it.”

That’s all the invitation Azriel needs. In one fluid motion, he steps them into the shadows, the world dissolving into darkness. Y/N feels the cool rush of shadow-walking, the sensation both disorienting and exhilarating. When the shadows part, they’re in a secluded alcove, far from the ballroom—a private balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens of the Day Court. The air is cool, but the heat between them burns hotter than ever.

Azriel pins her against the stone railing, his body pressing into hers, his shadows curling around them like a living thing. Y/N’s back arches, her breath catching as his lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that sends shivers down her spine.

“You’re fucking insufferable,” he murmurs against her throat, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.

Y/N laughs breathlessly, her fingers tightening in his hair. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel lifts his head, his golden-brown eyes blazing with intensity. “Here I am.”

He kisses her again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that makes her knees weak. Y/N’s hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his jacket. She tugs at the fabric, desperate to feel his skin against hers, and Azriel obliges, shrugging it off with a quick, impatient motion.

Y/N’s dress is next. Azriel’s hands slide up her sides, his fingers deftly finding the ties at her back. He undoes them with practiced ease, the silvery fabric slipping from her shoulders to pool at her feet. The cool night air brushes her skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of Azriel’s gaze as he takes her in.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent.

Y/N smirks, though her breath hitches as his hands slide up her bare arms. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. “Good thing I don’t need flattery.”

He kisses her again, his hands roaming over her body with a possessiveness that makes her head spin. Y/N’s fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. When she finally gets it open, she slides her hands over his chest, her nails lightly scraping his skin. Azriel growls low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill through her.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone.

Y/N tilts her head back, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Then make it worth it.”

Azriel’s hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly until she’s seated on the stone railing. Y/N wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his lips find hers again. The cool stone against her back is a sharp contrast to the heat of his body, the sensation only heightening her arousal.

Azriel’s hands roam over her body, his touch firm and deliberate, leaving no inch of her untouched. Y/N’s nails dig into his shoulders as his lips trail down her chest, his tongue flicking over her nipple in a way that makes her gasp. She arches into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he continues his exploration, his touch both worshipful and demanding.

“Azriel,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need.

He lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want.”

Y/N’s lips curve into a wicked smile. “I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Azriel doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses her again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips as he positions himself at her entrance. Y/N’s breath hitches as he pushes into her, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. She wraps her legs tighter around him, pulling him closer as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder.

The world narrows to the two of them, to the heat of their bodies, the sound of their mingled breaths, the feel of his skin against hers. Y/N’s nails dig into his back as she arches into him, her moans muffled by his lips on hers. Azriel’s hands grip her hips, his movements growing more urgent as he drives them both closer to the edge.

“Y/N,” he murmurs against her lips, his voice rough with need. “Look at me.”

Y/N opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his golden-brown eyes takes her breath away, the raw emotion there making her heart race even faster. She reaches up to cup his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers.

Azriel’s breath hitches, his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his release. Y/N’s own climax builds, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. Azriel follows her over the edge, his body shuddering as he spills himself inside her.

For a moment, they stay like that, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling as they come down from the high. Azriel rests his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her hips as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs again, his voice soft this time.

Y/N smiles, her fingers trailing down his chest. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Here I am.”

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms as the cool night air brushes their skin. The world outside the balcony feels far away, unimportant. All that matters is the two of them, the connection they’ve finally given in to, the fire that’s been burning between them all night—and for far longer than that.

Finally, Azriel lifts his head, his gaze soft as he looks at her. “We should probably get back before they send a search party.”

Y/N smirks, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Let them wait.”

Azriel laughs, the sound rich and full. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N’s smile is slow, deliberate. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel kisses her again, slow and deep, before helping her down from the railing. They dress quickly, the silence between them comfortable, intimate. As they step back into the shadows, Y/N feels a thrill of anticipation. This isn’t the end—it’s just the beginning.

And she can’t wait to see where it leads.

[societyfolklore]

Plus One – Consequence

Title: Plus One – Consequence

Pairing: Loki x SHEILD Agent!Female Reader

Summary:  Loki wants to be 'of use' and is assigned to be your partner on a mission. But that's not the only thing he's focused on. He's done waiting, this time he wants his answer.

Word Count: 6.6k (It got big… but plot though!)

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, smut, fingering, Unprotected sex, No beta read.

A/N: Part 1 and Part 2  (this is the finally.. I think.. maybe..probably)  BIG thank you to  @angelremnants for helping me out with this

You had been left alone since the incident in the library, no sign of Loki, and for once, you told yourself it was for the best. You were fine- better off, even. It wasn’t as if you had been waiting for him to reappear, looking over your shoulder at every flicker of green light, or catching yourself searching rooms as if expecting him to be there. No, you weren’t missing him. Not at all.

Still, suspicion gnawed at you over his absence. Loki wasn’t the type to simply disappear without a reason, and while you should have been relieved, something about it felt... wrong. Like he had been deliberately keeping his distance. Was he playing some new game? Or had he simply grown bored of you?

You forced the thoughts away, refusing to entertain them further. You had more important things to focus on. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself-until you were suddenly called in for a meeting.

Thor and Fury. That was an unusual combination. Your missions rarely overlapped with Thor, and the fact that he was involved at all made your stomach twist with unease. You had told yourself you didn’t miss Loki. That you weren’t waiting for him. But now, sitting here, the realization hit you harder than you wanted to admit.

Maybe it was just... wishful thinking?

Thor sat forward, his massive frame somehow managing to take up more space than the chair should allow, his expression a mixture of determination and pride. “Loki has expressed a desire to be more ‘of use,’” he began, his tone firm yet encouraging. “And after speaking with the Director, it has been decided that Loki shall be joining you on your next mission. You know a trail run of things."

"Excuse me?" You looked between the God and your Director. "Tell me he's joking.."

Fury leaned back in his chair, ignoring your clear objections, his single eye fixed on Thor with a skeptical intensity. “He’s your brother Thor and I respect that, Loki appears to want to make amends but that doesn't mean he gets to just 'jump in' he has to prove we can see him as an ally ” Fury said, his voice calm but edged with steel. “His is guy who tried to level New York.”

Thor’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t falter. “Loki is a proven warrior and strategist,” he said. “He has fought beside me countless times and, while his methods may be unorthodox, his results are undeniable. He is motivated to prove himself.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of Thor’s words settling in. Motivated was one way to describe Loki, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was for the right reasons. Still, you kept your thoughts to yourself, waiting for Fury’s response.

Fury tapped his fingers against the table thoughtfully before turning his attention to you. “And what’s your take on this? You’ll be working closest with him. You comfortable with that?”

You hesitated, feeling both pairs of eyes on you.

“Comfortable might be too strong a word,” you admitted, keeping your tone professional. “But I trust Thor’s judgment, and if Loki’s abilities can give us an edge on this mission, I’ll make it work, better it just be me he scre-" You couldn't even bring yourself to say it. "Better it's me he stabs in the back then have the whole team go down with him."

Thor gave you a small nod of gratitude, clearly deciding not hear your backhanded comments about his brother, all while Fury studied you for a moment longer before speaking.

“Fine. But let’s be clear about something: if he so much as hints at going off-script, it’s on you to rein him in. Understood?”

“Understood,” you said firmly, though the thought sent a flicker of doubt through you. Reining Loki in was a task easier said than done.

Thor exhaled, a faint smile breaking through his serious demeanor.

“You will not regret this decision,” he said confidently. “Loki will not disappoint us.”

Fury didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking between you and Thor before he finally stood. “Let’s hope not. Because if he does, I’ll make sure we’re not having this conversation again. I'll order him off world and back to Asgard.” With that, he strode out of the room, leaving the two of you alone with the gravity of the situation.

Thor turned to you, his expression softening. “Thank you for your faith in this, even if it’s tentative. Loki’s journey will not be easy, but I believe he is capable of great things.”

You nodded, though the knot in your stomach remained. “Let’s hope he believes that too,” you said quietly, already bracing yourself for the challenges ahead.

“Oh, don’t look so glum, Darling,” a familiar voice drawled, cutting through the charged silence like a blade. You turned your head sharply, catching the faint shimmer of green light in the corner of the room. Loki stepped forward from the shadows, his sharp features illuminated by the glow of the monitors. His smirk was as maddening as ever, exuding a confidence that bordered on outright arrogance. “It will be... enlightening.”

Thor’s posture stiffened, his voice immediately dropping into a warning tone. “Loki, I told you to wait outside.”

Loki waved a dismissive hand, the motion languid and unconcerned. “Oh, come now, brother. I was merely curious to hear the verdict of my fate. Surely you can’t fault me for wanting to be... informed.”

Thor’s expression darkened, a rare flicker of frustration slipping past his usual composure. “If Fury finds out-”

“He didn't even notice.” Loki interrupted smoothly, his icy blue gaze flicking to you, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken uncomfortably. “I doubt anything I say now would surprise him. Besides,” he added, his tone softening into something almost thoughtful, “I suspect our dear Agent here prefers knowing exactly what they’re getting into.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you refused to take the bait.

“What I’d prefer,” you said evenly, keeping your tone professional despite the simmering irritation, “is for you to follow orders. Starting now.”

Loki chuckled, the sound low and rich, like velvet wrapped around steel.

“Oh, I fully intend to follow orders, I do enjoy making sure your satisfied with my performance” he said, his smirk widening slightly. “But forgive me if I indulge in a little... curiosity. It’s not every day one gets the chance to prove their worth under such delightful scrutiny.”

Thor stepped between you and his brother, his towering frame blocking Loki’s view as his voice dropped into something firmer. “Enough, Loki. Prove your worth through action, not theatrics.”

Loki raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk never wavering. “As you wish, dear brother,” he said lightly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. He stepped back but didn’t leave entirely, lingering just long enough to cast one last glance your way.

“I’ll see you at the jet then Agent,” Loki murmured, the promise in his voice unmistakable, before disappearing in a swirl of green light. "Don’t be late..”

Thor sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This will be... a challenge.”

You couldn’t help but agree, though a part of you suspected Loki’s presence was about to make things more than just challenging-it was going to make them impossible to forget.

The HYDRA facility loomed ahead, its sleek lines cutting through the forest like a blade. The metallic sheen of its exterior caught the moonlight, giving it an eerie, otherworldly aura. Loki walked beside you, his presence both magnetic and maddening. Despite the weight of the mission, he seemed utterly at ease, his movements fluid, his expression one of quiet amusement.

“Try not to get us caught,” you muttered, scanning the perimeter through your scope. The darkened forest was alive with distant sounds-rustling leaves, faint chirps, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.

“Darling, please,” Loki replied, his tone dripping with mock hurt. “I am the very definition of discretion.” He smirked, tilting his head to regard you with those piercing blue eyes. “Although, if you’d rather admire my talents from afar, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Your talents aren’t exactly why I’m here,” you retorted sharply, though you couldn’t entirely suppress the warmth rising in your cheeks.

“Oh? And here I thought I was your favourite Asgardian,” he quipped, falling into step just behind you. “You do seem rather fixated on me lately.”

You ignored him, motioning for him to follow. Loki’s illusions cloaked your approach, turning you into shifting shadows that passed unnoticed by the guards patrolling the perimeter. His magic hummed faintly in the air, a reminder of the power he wielded with infuriating ease. Every so often, you caught the faintest flicker of light from his hands, the only sign of the enchantments he was weaving.

Inside, the server room was sterile and cold, lined with blinking terminals and an unsettling hum of machinery. Loki conjured a shimmering barrier at the door, sealing you inside and masking your presence. The faint green glow of his magic illuminated his sharp features, making him look almost otherworldly.

“Efficient,” you admitted grudgingly as you began downloading the data. The whir of the transfer filled the room, the only sound aside from Loki’s deliberate footsteps.

“Praise from you? How unexpected,” he murmured, leaning casually against a terminal. His voice was quieter now, almost reflective. “You’ve been remarkably tense, Agent. Shall we discuss it?”

“No.”

“Ah, deflection.” He crossed his arms, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “You can’t hide it forever, you know. That… spark between us.”

You turned sharply, glaring at him. “This isn’t the time.”

“But there will be a time,” he countered smoothly, his eyes gleaming with unspoken intent. “Admit it, darling. You find me… intriguing.”

Before you could respond, alarms blared. Loki’s barrier flickered as HYDRA’s countermeasures overloaded it. Red lights bathed the room in an ominous glow as the door burst open, and armed agents poured in, their weapons trained on you.

“Ah, and here I thought we might avoid theatrics,” Loki said dryly, his hands already glowing with magic as he stepped in front of you. “Shall we?”

Things had been going well. You and Loki had managed to sneak into the HYDRA facility undetected, extracted the necessary files, and were making your way out. It had almost seemed too easy. But then, chaos erupted. Loki moved with lethal grace, his illusions scattering the agents as he cast bolts of searing magic. His movements were fluid, a dance of power and precision, and for a moment, it seemed as though he thrived in the chaos. You fired with equal determination, covering his blind spots with sharp efficiency. It was almost seamless-until one guard managed to fire a well-aimed blast directly at Loki.

The energy struck him square in the chest, sending him reeling backward. He staggered, his illusions flickering and his magic faltering visibly. "Go," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice tinged with both pain and frustration as his hand glowed faintly in an attempt to hold the illusions together.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snapped, catching his arm as you fired another shot with your free hand. You needed cover-fast.

“This is hardly the time to argue,” Loki grunted, his weight pressing into you as you pulled him behind a crumbling support beam. “But you do seem to enjoy things happening in public places..”

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, breathless, scanning the space for an exit. “You could have just let me take the hit.”

Loki scoffed, despite the pain evident in his stance. “Yes, well, call me sentimental.”

You huffed, pushing him down against the wall as you checked his wound. “Sentimental, my ass. You’re just trying to prove a point.” "And pray tell? What point might that be?" Loki hand was still pressed into where he'd taken the hit though it seemed not to effect his sharp wit in anyway.  "That I need you."  You were glowered, but a slow, dangerous glint flicked in his eyes. 

“Darling, if I wanted to prove that point, you’d be on your knees by now,” he murmured with a pained smirk.

You glared at him, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Shut up.”. He staggered, his illusions flickering and his magic faltering visibly. “Go,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice tinged with both discomfort and frustration as his hand glowed faintly in an attempt to hold the illusions together.

“Not without you,” you snapped, the words coming out harsher than you intended as adrenaline coursed through you. You grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet as you fired at the remaining guards with one hand. His weight leaned heavily against you, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he struggled to regain his composure. Guilt gnawed at you with every step; he had shielded you without hesitation, and now he was paying the price.

You practically dragged Loki into the nearest hiding spot-a disused stairwell, the walls damp and cold from years of neglect. It wasn’t much, but it would give his magic time to work, to let his body stitch itself back together while you caught your breath.

He leaned heavily against the wall, his usual cocky grace slightly dulled, but his smirk remained infuriatingly intact. The dim lighting of the stairwell cast sharp shadows across his features, making the blue of his eyes stand out even more vividly. You knelt beside him, pressing your hand against the wound to gauge how bad it was, but before you could fully assess it, his fingers curled around your wrist, halting your movements with a surprising gentleness.

His grip was firm but not forceful, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist in a way that sent an unexpected shiver through you. "Why is it that you recoil at the idea of needing me?" he asked, his voice lower now, almost contemplative. "Be it in battle or in your bed, you seem to find the notion unbearable."

You swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. "This isn't about that. You took a hit, and I need to make sure you don't bleed out before your magic kicks in."

"Ah, deflection," Loki mused, his grip tightening slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes. "It's a fascinating thing to watch. You insist I mean nothing, yet here you are, hands trembling as you touch me. Tell me, darling-what are you so afraid of?"

Your pulse hammered in your throat, but you yanked your hand free, glaring at him. "We are not having these conversations now, and why are you talking like I'm the problem? The library happened, and you've been MIA since..." Your voice trailed off, frustration tightening in your chest. You weren’t sure why it stung-why it felt like a betrayal that he had disappeared after that afternoon.

Loki’s smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his face. He held your gaze for a long moment, searching, and then, with a slow exhale, that insufferable confidence slid back into place.

"And yet, here we are," he murmured, tilting his head, voice like silk and steel. "Tell me, darling-why does it sound like you mind? Miss me did you?" 

Loki only smirked, though there was something softer behind his usual arrogance, something dangerously close to hope. “Dogs don't miss fleas,” you snapped, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

Loki’s smirk wavered. Just for a second, so quickly you almost missed it. Then, something colder took its place, an expression you hadn’t seen before. Not irritation, not amusement-hurt.

“Oh,” he said, his voice losing some of its playfulness, a dangerous undercurrent forming beneath. “I see, so you do want to be a bitch then.” "What's that supposed to mean?"  You looked at him hurt feeling stabbing at her chest, he didn't get to call you names.  His arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze darkened as he took a slow step back. “You let me touch you, taste you, fuck you-and now I’m just something to be discarded? A game you can play when it suits you, but when the pieces stop falling in your favor, I’m nothing more than a parasite?”

Your breath hitched, stunned at the venom in his voice. “Loki-”

He scoffed. “No, please. Enlighten me.” His tone was sharp now, edged with something almost bitter. “What am I to you, exactly? Because you seem to enjoy having me when no one’s watching. But the moment we step into the light, I become inconvenient, don’t I?”

His words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. Because there was truth to them. You had pushed him away, compartmentalized your moments together, told yourself they didn’t mean anything. But standing here now, faced with the rawness in his voice, you realized-

It mattered to him.

The memory of his words in the library resurfaced, unbidden: A chance to be what you need. You hadn’t given it the weight it deserved at the time, hadn’t let yourself. But now, with his piercing gaze locked on yours, demanding an answer you weren’t ready to give, it was impossible to ignore.

Loki exhaled sharply, shaking his head, as if disgusted with himself for letting this moment happen. His next words came quieter, but with even more weight.

“You think I don’t want you? That each of our encounters hasn't left me wanting, haunted, in need of you?” His voice dropped lower, edged with frustration, but there was something else beneath it now, something raw. "You doubt me? Yet here I am injured on your behalf. Playing hero, trying to be better, all so you might be willing to take what I can offer out of the shadows."

The intensity in his voice sent a tremor down your spine. He stepped forward, his presence overwhelming, his tone shifting to something almost desperate. “You think I toy with you?” he murmured, voice a quiet rasp. “Do you know how insufferable it is-to crave something I cannot have?”

And then he kissed you. Push in against you, his body pushing you into the floor. Mission almost entirely forgotten in this moment. The dirt of the stairwell scrapping at the leather of your suit. 

It was nothing like the teasing, taunting brushes of lips you'd had before. This was different. Fierce. Possessive. A demand and a question all at once. And you-

You didn’t stop him.

Your fingers curled into the leather of his suit, pulling him closer, because this time, there was no use pretending you didn’t want this too. Didn’t want him.

His hands slid down to your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise as he pressed you back against the wall. The tension, the heat, the hunger-it all snapped, unraveling in a desperate collision of mouths and hands.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against yours. “I won’t be your secret anymore,” he whispered, the words more declaration than threat. “Not after this.”

Your heart pounded, the weight of what he was saying crashing over you. But before you could respond, the distant sound of approaching footsteps shattered the moment. You were on your feet, your rifle already raised. It was time to get out of this hell hole. They’re finish this conversation later, right now both had to get out, making sure Loki could stay on his feet, you started down the stairs. 

Waiting at the extraction point for the quinjet to collect the pair of you. The safehouse was barely more than a disused, abandoned guard station. Neither of you had really spoken since the hall, unless it was to bark instructions or warnings at the other. No witty jabs, none of Loki’s usual sharp, flirty comments. Just silence that filled up the space-it felt suffocating.

Loki sat against the cold wall, one knee bent, arms resting loosely, but his gaze never left you. His silence was not his usual brooding arrogance-it was something else. Something more calculated, restrained.

“Do you regret it?” he finally asked, breaking the quiet with a voice almost too soft to be his. A whisper, but one that carried weight, making your chest tighten.

“Regret what?” you asked cautiously, though you knew exactly what he meant. Your voice was quieter now, the usual edge replaced by uncertainty.

“This. Us,” Loki said, his gaze locking onto yours with disarming intensity. “Every time you let me closer, you pull away twice as hard. Why?”

You tensed, your body stiffening instinctively as if preparing for a fight, but the words wouldn’t come. How could they? How could you put into words the war raging in your mind? The sheer impossibility of what you felt for him?

Loki exhaled, shaking his head as if he was already resigned to your silence. Then, something shifted in his expression-something darker, edged with frustration. His voice turned sharp, his patience worn thin.

“Why is it so hard for you to accept this?” he asked, his voice rougher now. “That I want you. That you want me.”

You stiffened, shaking your head as you tried to step back, but he followed. “It’s not that simple.”

Loki scoffed. “Oh, but it is. You just refuse to admit it.” He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. “You act as though I have no hold over you, yet you let me in. Over and over again. You let me touch you, you crave it, and then you run the moment it becomes too real.”

“That’s not true.”

“Liar.” His voice cracked slightly, his frustration barely contained. “God of Lies remember? You think I don’t see it? The way you hesitate, yet you still reach for me?”

His words struck deep, rattling you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction-but then his hands were on you, dragging you into another kiss, this one more desperate, more forceful.

You shoved at him, breathless, but he barely moved. “Loki-”

“Stop pretending,” he bit out, his grip tightening. “You want this. You don’t tell me no. Stop acting like this isn’t everything you think about.”

Something inside you snapped. With a growl of frustration, you pushed him back, eyes burning with defiance. “You don’t get to tell me what I think.”

Loki’s smirk returned, but it was different now, something darker curling at the edges of his lips. “Oh, but I do.”

And then he kissed you again, all heat and frustration and something dangerous. This time, you didn’t pull away.. Then, something shifted in his expression-something darker, edged with frustration.

“You fight me at every turn,” he murmured, leaning forward just slightly. “You let me in-your body, your mind-and then you pretend none of it matters. That I don’t matter.”

“That’s not-”

“Oh, isn’t it?” His voice sharpened, and for the first time tonight, the intensity in his gaze turned molten, heated with something far too raw. “Stop pretending. You want this. You don’t tell me no. Stop acting like this isn’t everything you think about.”

His words struck deep, reverberating through you like a blow, because they weren’t entirely wrong.

“I don’t-”

“You don’t what?” Loki cut in, moving fluidly to his feet, stepping into your space. “You don’t want me? You don’t crave me, even now?” His voice dropped lower, barely a breath between you. “Liar.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse hammering as his fingers brushed against your wrist. A touch so simple, yet it burned like a brand.

“Why are you so resistant to this?” he demanded, voice a rough whisper. “To me? To us?”

Because it was dangerous. Because it was Loki. Because you weren’t sure who you were when he was around.

But the words never left your lips.

Loki scoffed, shaking his head as if he finally understood something you didn’t. And then-

Then he kissed you.

It was the same as before.  His pure frustration, desperation, and need colliding all at once. A battle neither of you had the will to fight anymore. His hands gripped your arms, pushing you back until you felt the cold wall at your back, caging you in without escape.

And the worst part? You didn’t want to escape.

Your hands came up his chest onto his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, like you needed to drown in him just to survive this.

Then, just as suddenly, you shoved him back.

Breathing hard, your hands still curled into his clothes, you stared at him-at the mess he had made of you.

Loki’s chest rose and fell in sharp movements, his pupils blown wide. And then, his lips curled, but there was no arrogance in his expression. Just something deeper.

“You can keep running,” he murmured, voice dark and knowing. “But we both know how this ends.” Loki took steps towards you. 

“You’re insufferable,” you managed, though your voice trembled more than you’d like.

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back smoothly, his tone teasing but heavy with intent.

The moment stretched taut, and though you knew you should push him away, the pull of his proximity was overwhelming. His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Just say the word,” Loki murmured, his voice a silken promise as his lips hovered achingly close to yours. "I can be what you need." His voice sounded more like a plea than a promise as his hand brushed over your cheek, pushing stray hairs away. "Imagine it, everything I could give you..." His breath on your cheeks as he whispered made your heart race. "You've only just sampled the things I can do, for you, with you."

His fingers traced lightly along the column of your throat, lingering just beneath your chin as if daring you to pull away. His touch was slow, deliberate, the cool press of his fingertips sending a shiver skittering down your spine.

"Are you worried your friends will judge?" he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. His other hand moved to the zipper of your suit, teasingly dragging it down just enough to expose the sensitive skin at your collarbone. "None of them have perfect pasts. Why do they get the chance to make amends, yet you dismiss me?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "It's not the same, Loki."

"Isn't it?" He pressed, his fingers toying with the buckle of your utility belt slowly undoing it.  You barely registered it hitting the floor. "You think me irremediable-is that it? Or do you just like the idea of walking on the darker side but refuse to admit it?"

Your pulse thundered against your ribs. His words cut too close, slipping through the cracks of your defenses like tendrils of smoke. You should stop him, but instead, you stood entranced, helpless against the way his touch made your body burn.

Loki's smirk softened into something more knowing, more dangerous. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, teasing, testing. "You're not as pure or righteous as you like to pretend," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. His finger pulling the zipper down  to your stomach.  "We all dwell in the grey."

His hand slid down, fingers grazing the curve of your waist before settling on your hip. With agonizing patience, he traced the seam of your suit, slipping beneath the fabric just enough to make your breath hitch. "You make this idea of heroism not seem like such a folly. Can't you see I need you too?" His voice dipped lower, dark with something deeper than seduction-something raw. "You make me want to be better, and that terrifies me more than anything."

Your breath caught, your fingers trembling where they rested against his chest. Still, you didn't push him away. His words, the weight behind them, left you teetering on the edge of something you couldn't name.

Loki’s smirk deepened as he slid his hand lower, slipping past the half-unzipped fabric of your suit. His fingers trailed over your stomach, teasing, deliberate. Then, lower still. A wicked chuckle rumbled in his throat as his palm pressed against your core, his breath hot against your cheek.

"No underwear?" he murmured, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something possessive. "How delightfully scandalous. Like you were expecting something, or just wishful thinking?"

A flush crept up your neck, but before you could muster a retort, he pressed his fingers more firmly against you, feeling the heat, the undeniable evidence of your arousal. A pleased hum vibrated from him, his lips ghosting along delicate  of your throat.

"Don’t fight it," he purred, his mouth leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. The scrape of his teeth followed, nipping just enough to make you gasp.

Then, you felt it-long, skilled fingers slipping between your folds, teasing before one breached your entrance. A sharp gasp left you, your head tilting back against the wall as he worked you open with excruciating slowness.

"That's it, darling," Loki whispered, his voice a silk-covered blade. "Let me in."

His fingers curled, pressing deeper, slow and deliberate, savoring the way your breath hitched, the way your thighs trembled beneath his touch. His mouth trailed down the side of your throat, the scrape of his teeth sending shivers down your spine as his other hand splayed against your lower back, keeping you pinned where he wanted you.

"So conflicted." he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Going to keep pretending you don’t want this?"

A ragged gasp escaped you as he added another finger, stretching you, working you open with agonizing patience. His thumb circled your clit with infuriating slowness, teasing, coaxing, drawing out every reaction like he was savoring a masterpiece only he could create.

"You can deny it all you like," Loki purred, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "But your body knows the truth. It has always known."

Heat coiled in your stomach, the pressure building too fast, too much, and still, Loki took his time, dragging out every moment, every sensation until you were gasping against him, clinging to the leather of his suit as your body betrayed you.

"Let go, darling," he coaxed, his fingers pressing deeper, his pace quickening just enough to push you closer to the edge. "Let me hear you say my name. Before I ruin you properly."

But just as the pleasure coiled unbearably tight in your core, his movements slowed-then stopped entirely. A desperate whimper escaped you before you could stop it, frustration knotting in your stomach as your body trembled on the precipice of release.

Loki chuckled darkly, his breath warm against your ear. "Not yet," he murmured, withdrawing his fingers just enough to leave you aching. "Admit it, and I'll give you everything, darling. Just three words. 'I need you.' just give me the words."

Your body burned, every nerve alight with the cruel denial of release. You clenched your jaw, trying to resist, but Loki's fingers traced lazy circles against your sensitive flesh, teasing, never giving enough to push you over the edge. His other hand slid up, cupping your throat gently, his thumb tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Say it," he coaxed, his voice smooth as silk, but beneath it, there was something deeper-something raw. "You need me. Say it, and I'll make you come so hard you'll forget your own name."

Your breath hitched, your hands fisting in his leather as your body warred with your pride. The ache between your legs was unbearable, his teasing touch driving you to madness. Your lips parted, a shuddering breath escaping, but still, you held back, even as your resolve wavered dangerously.

Loki's smirk softened into something almost reverent, his fingers ghosting over your pulse. "You can keep pretending, darling. Keep fighting me. But we both know how this ends. We both know what you need."

Another flick of his fingers, another pulse of pleasure, and a strangled moan tore from your lips. Your resolve cracked, splintered under the weight of your desire. You squeezed your eyes shut, barely above a whisper as the words finally slipped free.

"I... need you."

Loki exhaled sharply, something triumphant gleaming in his gaze before his mouth crashed against yours. This time, there was nothing measured, nothing teasing. It was raw, hungry, desperate. His fingers didn’t work at your suit with the same slow deliberation as before-instead, he all but tore it from your body, the fabric peeling away under his forceful touch.

With a firm grip, he spun you, shoving you down onto the desk behind you, your palms hitting the cool surface as his body caged you in. The sound of leather and metal followed as his own clothing vanished in a shimmer of green. He pressed against you, his heat searing, his strength undeniable. His hands roamed freely now, greedy, possessive, mapping every inch of you like he was memorizing it for eternity.

“You have no idea,” he growled against your ear, his breath hot, “what you do to me.”

His teeth scraped along your shoulder before he bit down, sharp and claiming, his body pressing harder against yours as his hand gripped your hip, anchoring you in place

Loki groaned, the sound deep and unrestrained, his fingers digging into your skin as he finally sank into you, filling you with a stretch that was almost too much-but god, it felt right. The noise you made was something guttural, something you hadn’t even realized you were capable of.

“Mine now,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pulled back, only to slam into you again, rougher this time, dragging a strangled cry from your lips.

Loki wasn’t measured now-wasn’t teasing. There was no more patience, no more waiting. He drove into you with a force that left you breathless, your nails digging into the hard surface of the desk as your body rocked beneath him.

He growled against your ear, the sound primal, raw, vibrating through your entire body. "And to think, you fought me so hard," he mused, his tone dark, nearly mocking. "Tell me, darling, was it worth resisting?"

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a gasp as he snapped his hips again, filling you to the hilt, stretching you, making you feel every inch of him.

Your body betrayed you, clenching around him, desperate for more. He felt it too, a pleased chuckle escaping him as his fingers curled tighter around your hips, holding you in place as he set a relentless pace.

“You take me so well," he praised, his lips brushing against your shoulder before his teeth sank into the sensitive skin. You gasped, your back arching, the sharp pain blending into the overwhelming pleasure. "This was how it was supposed to be. Only mine."

A wanton moan tore from both of you, the intensity of the moment swallowing everything else. Loki was everywhere-his hands gripping, his mouth marking, his body claiming you in ways you could no longer deny.

“You’re mine,” Loki growled, his voice rough with something unrestrained, something dangerous. His hands, strong and possessive, guided your hips against him, holding you exactly where he wanted you. He moved without hesitation, without restraint, his frustration from before bleeding into every punishing thrust.

“Say it,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “Say you want this.”

Your breath hitched, the pleasure clouding your mind, leaving you unable to think past the way he felt, the way he filled you, stretched you. You knew what he wanted. He wanted the words. He wanted you to say what he already knew. But pride still warred within you, even as your body betrayed you, clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

Loki’s smirk returned, but it wasn’t playful-it was predatory. “Say it,” he demanded again, punctuating his words with a hard thrust that sent a broken moan tumbling from your lips.

You bit down on your lip, refusing, even as your body trembled beneath him. But he wasn’t going to let you win. His fingers found your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing your eyes to meet his. His pupils were blown wide, his expression twisted in pleasure, but beneath it was something else-something raw.

“Louder,” he growled, his movements turning desperate, relentless. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

Your resolve cracked like shattered glass. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as a cry escaped you. “I want you.”

Loki groaned, the sound primal, his pace never faltering. “Again,” he ordered, his voice rough, breathless. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrust harder, deeper. “Say it again.”

Your head fell back, pleasure surging through you, consuming you whole. “I want you, Loki,” you gasped, the words breaking free before you could stop them.

His mouth was on you in an instant, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his desperation matching your own. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction, with possession. “Let go, darling. Let me have you.”

Your climax slammed into you, tearing through you with a force that left you breathless. Your body arched into his, your fingers tightening their grip as you shattered against him. Loki followed seconds after, his name a rasped groan against your skin as he claimed you completely, utterly.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, your bodies pressed together, the heat between you still lingering, still pulsing.

Loki’s hands moved to cradle your face, his touch suddenly tender, reverent. “Mine,” he whispered again, but this time, there was something softer beneath the claim, something deeper.

Your chest still heaved, the aftershocks of pleasure humming through you as you met his gaze, seeing something you weren’t sure you were ready to name. This was it-your last surrender. And yet, you were still panting, still trembling, and the look in Loki’s eyes had softened, the hunger tempered with something more, something yearning.

"...Yours," you whispered, the admission slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Loki inhaled sharply, his grip on you tightening for just a moment before his features melted into something smug, but there was warmth behind it, true satisfaction. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing stray strands of hair from your face with an uncharacteristic gentleness, his fingers lingering along your jaw.

The moment was intimate, raw-until the coms crackled to life, shattering the quiet between you.

"ETA five minutes."

Loki sighed, his smirk returning as he tilted his head. "Better get you dressed, darling. Can't have anyone seeing what's mine now, can I?"

You felt the loss of him immediately as he pulled away, the absence of his warmth making you shiver despite the heat still simmering beneath your skin. Your limbs were heavy, still trembling as he helped you back into your suit, his touch lingering longer than necessary, almost reverent. His own attire reappeared in a flash of green, his expression shifting back into something unreadable, though you caught the satisfied gleam in his eyes.

As you both collected yourselves, he moved toward the door of the abandoned guard shed, holding it open for you. The night air was crisp as you stepped through, Loki falling into stride beside you with an ease that felt... natural.

As the quinjet descended, kicking up dust around you, you hesitated for just a moment. Then, before you could think better of it, you reached out, slowly taking his hand in yours. Loki stilled, his fingers tightening around yours just slightly, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between you.

As the rear of the jet opened, you walked in together.

TAGs @mischiefmaker615

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 16/?)

Series Masterlist

Your pov

I wince when the carriage rattles after rolling over a large rock. I didn't realize the ride would take this long, nor that it would be this bumpy. 

“Should you be riding in such conditions?” Rhaenyra speaks out of nowhere. 

The carriage has been quiet except for Aegon playing and babbling to himself. So the sudden change startles me a bit. 

Ali gives a pinched smile as she runs her hand over her belly. “The maesters said the fresh air would do me good.” 

I frown at her answer, the maesters didn't say that they told her and Papa to be careful because she was so close to birthing the baby. But Papa didn't listen and decided Ali needed to come. I truly wonder at times if he thinks he knows more about pregnancies than the maesters and midwives from how he talks to them, especially the midwives. 

“You will make me a proud Grandsire soon enough.” Papa says to Nyra with a grin. 

“I'm not sure why you wish for grandchildren, we don't even know if my betrothed will be coming back from the Stepstones.” Nyra responds with a roll of her eyes. 

Ali then sits up straighter giving her a smile. “It isn't so bad, the days are long but Aegon came quickly and without fuss.” 

I know she's trying to help Nyra, but from the way she glares at Ali it didn't. I also frown at her words. 

If that was easy and without fuss what are the bad and long labors like? I don't want to know. I decide quickly.

If I rolled my eyes at Papa it would result in me not being allowed to visit Stormchaser for the day and having more studying. But Nyra gets away with it with only a glare from Papa. It doesn't seem fair.

The carriage falls silent again deathly so. Almost like no one knows what to say, Rhaenyra keeps glaring at Ali, Papa keeps looking out the window taking large gulps of wine, he's already on his fifth of the ride. And that is only in the carriage. And Ali, well Ali looks so sad. I wish I could take her pain away. She smiles and seems happy when it's just me and Aegon with her but as soon as Papa enters the room, well she acts like there's a knife to her throat. 

“You should join the hunt Rhaenyra.” Papa says lifting his wine glass towards Aegon. 

I quickly cover it with my hand staring at Papa in shock. 

“Darling, move your hand.” He says through a tight smile.

I shake my head as I start to grip the chalice when he tries to move my hand forcibly. 

“He's only two, you don't even let me drink wine at feasts and I'm nine.” I try and reason hoping it will steer him away from this. 

“Though I think the boy would enjoy, I believe water will do him just fine, Husband.” Ali says with a strained smile. I feel her reach for my hand and squeeze it in thanks. I quickly squeeze back. 

“I suppose you two are right.” He finally says with a huff as he sits back and looks at Nyra.

“Now what was I saying? Oh yes you shall join me on the hunt!” Papa says, slapping her knee playfully while Nyra scowls. 

“I'd rather not, the boars squeal like children when they are slaughtered. The deer are no better. I find it disturbing.” 

I can't help but agree, I remember the first time I saw the kitchen butcher a pig. I didn't eat meat for two moons. It was only when the Maesters said I was getting too thin that I was forced to eat it again. I just have to push the image of that poor pig out of my mind. 

“Then what do you plan to do on this hunt?” Papa asks in a tone that implies he thinks you're being stupid. That you're not thinking properly and need to study more. 

“I'm not sure why I must?”

“Because you are a princess and have duties!” Papa replies with such anger I grip Ali's hand tighter hoping feeling her close will take away the fear. 

Nyra whispers something under her breath none of us can hear resulting in Papa leaning forwards asking what she had said. 

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” She all but shouts.

“Well you wouldn't have to be if you ever saw to them.” Papa responds quickly. 

“Why don't you ask your perfect little heir? I'm sure she will love to join you.” Nyra says glaring at me. 

But instead of it being Papa who responds it is Ali. She quickly warps her arm around me and bugs me close as she glares at Nyra.

“The King, I, and the Maesters thought it best not to have her join. If seeing an animal being butchered scared her so much then what would watching it die do to her young mind?” 

I never heard Ali so upset, she never raises her voice, never becomes sharp or rude in tone. But in this moment she sounded like a Queen. 

Nyra and Ali have a stare off, both seemingly waiting for the other to back down. Thankfully Papa speaks to break the tension.

“Let us all just enjoy this time as a family, let us celebrate little Aegon.” He says as the carriage slows 

I hear Nyra whisper to herself. “No one is here for me.” And though I know I shouldn't, I know it will probably only make her more mad and lead to more problems. I can't help but say what I do.

I turn to look at her just before I step out of the carriage, looking her in the eyes which seems to shock her as I usually keep my head down. But I know I have to say this. 

“Of course they're not here for you, because it's not about you. They're not here for me either. They're here for Aegon, because it's his nameday.” 

And with that I step out of the carriage following Ali as she holds her hand out for me to take. 

I feel the plush of the cushions under me, it barely hides the hardness of the wooden chair below but I'll deal so Ali isn't alone with the Ladies of court. 

“Lady Joanna is said to have gotten caught by pirates on her trip.” An old woman says. She has a bulldog at her feet and a lion necklace. 

Must be a Lannister. I think with a frown. 

Kepus doesn't like them, and neither does Ali. Kepus says their self righteous cunts, and Ali says they are very egotistical. So they can't be good people. 

“What will happen to her?” Ali asks curiously.

“Sold to a pillow house if the rumors are to be seen true.” The Lannister says. She seems almost…pleased? Wouldn't she want the best for her family? Why is she so happy this woman is being sold? But then another question reaches my mind. 

I gently tug on Ali's sleeve until she looks down at me. “What is a pillow house?” I ask, confusion clear on my face. 

Ali goes wide eyed before seeming to think for a moment before responding. 

“nothing you need to worry about. You'll never go to one, and when you're older you'll know.” 

I don't like that response. Not one bit. Everyone says im.mature for my age, that my mind is that of a well read woman. But then they treat me like my mind is fragile and I can't handle the information. It's all so confusing.

“My husband says the Stepstones are a desolate place. It will never be tamed and this war will never end. But perhaps one of the Princesses could enlighten us. I heir our heir sends ravens to him?” Lady Blackwoods says eyeing me and Nyra who had just walked in after sulking outside. 

“I don't know how I would, I haven't spoken to him in years.” Nyra responds with a shrug.

“Hmm, then perhaps the one who actually has letters from the man may know?” 

With that one question all the ladies turn to stare at me expectantly. 

It is true I have been sending him letters, and he sent me some too. But I don't know what they want to know, he doesn't like it when I ask about the war and even says I shouldn't worry about it. 

“Well, he doesn't like it when I ask about the war. Says I am too young to hear such gruesome details. But in his last letter he said he will try to be home soon. So I think it is going well.” I say as I reach for Ali's and for comfort.

Lady Blackwood hums eyeing me in a way that almost seems like she's trying to find anything to hurt me with. 

“I do not think so, Your Grace. The war is waging and it is falling in the favor of the enemy. The crown must send tropes and help for this war.” 

“But the crown is not at war.” Nyra says confused. 

“Oh but we are, ever since your Uncle and the Seasnake stepped foot on that blasted place we were at war. Perhaps he joined because the Princess supplanted him as heir.” 

“The King found the Princess better suited for the role. And who are we to question the King?” Ali says with a raise of her brow. All the ladies go silent before Nyra scoffs and leaves with a huff. 

I sit there for a bit longer before asking Ali if I can go play with Laena and Nymeria. She nods letting me go with a kiss to my head.

It didn't take long for Laena, Nymeria and I to find each other. They were playing jacks but from the look of it it wasn't going well if all the mud on the metal and the curses leaving their lips was any indicator. In the end we decided to walk through the woods near the camp. 

“This is so boring!” Laena screams kicking a rock into the woods as leaves crunch under our feet. 

“Yeah, I thought this was a hunt? But all it looks like is a bunch of men talking about their kills as the real men find the poor animal so a wealthy cunt can be happy.” Nymeria says, making me and Laena gasp. 

“You said…cunt!” Laena whispers, making sure no one is in ear shot to hear her say such a word. 

 “Am I wrong though?” Nymeria asks with an annoyed huff. 

I turn when I hear something move but find nothing. Quickly shrugging it off to odd forest sounds. 

“I mean no, but it was still a shock.” Laena admits as she lifts the skirt of her blue and gold gown so she can step over a large puddle.

I can't help but giggle when Nymeria rolls her eyes at Laena. She was always someone who spoke what she thought even if you can't handle it. While Laena and I were taught to speak kindly and like ladies. It's interesting how different the Iron Islands are to Kingslanding. 

“Do you think they'll catch the heart?” Laena asks with a bored tone. 

I know she doesn't really care, she thinks this is all stupid and that there would be more things to do. But sadly it's just lords and Ladies drinking wine and gossiping. 

“Maybe, though it would be quite sad. The white heart is seen as the King of the forest. If they kill it the creatures here may not know who is in charge. Chaos may ensue.” Nymeria says.

Me and Laena are about to ask more on what she meant when we hear yelling. We watch as Nyra climbs on a horse and rides off towards the woods on the other side of camp. 

“What was that about?” Nymeria asks as she starts walking towards the commotion not even caring if mud tracks through her dress. 

“Nyra being Nyra.” I say with a shrug. I'm used to this by now, Papa tells Nyra to do something, she decides she doesn't want to do it, and then a tantrum ensues. At least that's what Kepus called them when I complained about it in a letter to him.

I watch as Ali walks out of the tent, sweat dripping along her brow and I quickly move forward. 

“Why don't me, you, and Aegon go to our tent? You should cool down.” I say as I move towards the main tent to tell the Nursemaids to bring Aegon. 

“Oh no, Sweetling, I'm alright. I only needed a moment.” Ali says with a forced smile. I can tell she isn't alright, but I also know why she is saying she is. Papa wants us to look like a happy family, and Nyra already ruined that he can't have his Queen, Heir, and son leave him alone. 

I only nod before walking into the tent with Laena and Nymeria not to far behind. If Ali can handle the heat of this tent while heavily pregnant then I can too. I think before sitting next to Ali as we watch Aegon play.

Alicents pov

I feel a sharp kick to my ribs as I walk into the Kings tent. I need to speak to him, and now is the perfect time.

“Are you feeling well Husband?” I ask rubbing my swollen belly hoping to calm this babe down as they just won't stop kicking. 

“It seems the gods are punishing me for my over indulgence.” He jests but I can only give a pinched smile. 

“At least the wine was good.” I say with a shrug.

“Yes, too good.” He says leaning over a bucket that from the smell is already filled with his vomit. “How can I help you this morrow, wife?” He asks, finally lifting his head to look at me fully.

I freeze deciding if I truly want to go through with this. 

My Father came to me demanding I change the King's mind on who is heir. But I can't. Not because I want you to have power, because I can see how it's hurting you. But because I don't want to see those sunken eyes on Aegon's little face. I don't want to hear he has to study when it is well past the time he should be resting. I want to watch him be a little boy not a fragment of himself. 

But then there lies the problem. For I don't want to see these things on you either, but they are already there. I hate to think about it, but why hurt another of my children just so my father may be happy? Haven't I given enough already?

And with that I know what I must do.

“The lords think you will name Aegon your heir.” I say as I slowly sit in a plush chair I instantly feel my back release all of its tension and I feel like I can actually breathe again. 

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I named my daughter my heir and now they are trying to feast on her bones now that a boy is here.” 

I can't help but frown, he forced these babes on me but only see them as the babe and the boy. I swear he only remembers Aegons name because court always whispers how he is the conquer reborn. 

Why can't he just be my little boy? Why must you all put so much on his shoulders so young? I think before looking at the King once more.

“Precisely, but what if there was a way to silence their whispers?” 

He stops tying his boots to look at me. He gives. A curious look but I make sure not to show anything on my face. 

“And what would that be, wife?” 

I stop for but a moment to collect myself and my courage before speaking my plan. 

“Reinstate her as your heir. It will show the realm you hold to your choice, they will have nothing to fight against.” I say with a even tone. 

He freezes thinking it over before nodding his head from side to side. “Tis a good idea, though it would be a waste if the babe were another boy.” 

I mull over his words before agreeing. “Then we wait. Once the babe is born, boy or girl we reinstate her as your heir for the realm to see. And if more sons were to come, then we do it again.” 

I watch and wait for his reaction. I know he was expecting me to beg for him to name Aegon, but from his ramblings last night of his dream of you on the throne. I knew it would never happen, not that I ever would want it to. 

“This is a wonderful idea. Mayhaps we even wait for my brother to come back so he can bend the knee to her this time as he missed it last time.” 

I only smile and nod. “Then it's settled?” 

“It's settled.” 

I stand up and walk out of his tent to get ready for the ride back to the Red Keep.

As I change I look in the mirror and pray to the Seven. 

Please say I made the right choice. Please say this is what is right for the realm. I can't destroy two of my children so the men of the world can feel happy. Just give me a sign. 

And just as I finish the prayer and walk out of my tent do I find my sign. You are standing in front of the furit table, but that isn't what catches my attention, it's the white deer staring directly at you. And when you look at it, it bows its head before running off into the forest.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @thelastemzy @athzhowakar

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

For any skeletons who play video games, S/O friend encourages them to play a 1-player horror game. Though S/O is willing to try it, they warn the skeletons ahead of time that because the horror game gives you the option to hide if the killer happens to see u S/O will hide and never come out, S/O admits there a scardy cat when it comes to horror games.

It just takes a little encougment to get S/O to leave the room and continue with the game... even though as soon as they see a glimpse of the killer/ hear the killer or the music changes, they immediately go back to hiding... the killer has to be waiting to ambush them as soon as they get out they just know it.

Would skeletons help carry S/O through the game? Are they both getting jumpscared? Would skeletons take over while S/O watches them play? How will it go?

Undertale Sans - He would take over... If watching you having the scare of your life wasn't that funny. Sans is pretty much watching you play with a bucket of popcorn, really entertained right now. He's mostly watching you and not the TV because your reactions are hilarious. He can't get over your face every time you get jumpscared.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is also focused on the game, but despite his best intentions, he's definitely not helping. Papyrus thinks the game is too easy and keeps trying to convince you the puzzles are way harder than what they're supposed to be, which leads to you running in circles again and again instead of pushing a damn lever. You're both getting jumpscare a hundred times, but Papyrus refuses to take the controller as he insists you're the one who needs to solve the puzzle because it's not fun otherwise. He also won't accept you cowarding away as an answer. You just want to curl up and cry.

Underswap Sans - Blue loves horror games, they're really exciting. Unfortunately, he also loves watching you get miserable every time you get jumpscared... And he's jumpscaring you as well. He can't help it. Every time he sees you extremely tense, he lunges at you, making you scream in fear. Bonus point when it happens at the same time as the monster on the screen. He can't get bored of this. You hate him so much right now.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey is even more terrified than you are. When you're not fast enough to hide, he takes the controller from your hands and runs into the nearest closet himself lmao. You're stressing him out. His soul can't take that game for much longer! And damn he was right. At the first jumpscare, he screams at the top of his lungs then passes out on your lap lol. Good luck to move now.

Underfell Sans - He thinks you're exaggerating a lot and that the game is not that scary. That's when you say that if it's such a smartass, he's the one who should play. As usual, Red is all big mouth and everything until he actually has to do the things. Taunting is one thing, playing for real is a second one. Oh, he's going to do it, because he's no chicken, but you can see him get paler and paler by the second. At the first jumpscare, the controller flies through the TV and Red jumps to hide behind the couch, all puffed up like a scared cat. You can't stop laughing. Well. He's pouting now.

Underfell Papyrus - Edge doesn't understand what's the big deal. It's just a game. It's not real? It's not even that scary. He's judging you so hard, wondering what happened in your life to not make the difference between fiction and reality. After an hour, he's tired of watching you struggle, sighs loudly, takes the controller from your hands, and finishes the game in half an hour. See? That's not that complicated. Why are you overreacting like that?

Horrortale Sans - He's no help. Watching your character run away on screen, it's... *yawns* tiring... him... up. After ten minutes you feel a big weight on your shoulder as Oak collapses on you and falls asleep. No jumpscare or scream will wake him up. He's too far gone. You feel so lonely right now.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's frustrated that you keep hiding. He wants to know what's next in the story! You're so slow he's shaking! Please, for the love of Asgore, let him play. He can't stand seeing you hiding every two minutes or so, or passing in front of important objects without seeing them. PLEASE. HE BEGS YOU. FOCUS. You didn't know Willow could be that affected by a video game, that's kind of funny.

Swapfell Sans - Ah, he loves supernatural shit. No, he doesn't! You can see him jump even more than you do every time something scary happens, and that's the second time he almost impale the TV with a bone. He's doing his best to not look affected by what's going on, but that's all a facade. It's actually too much for him after an hour and he leaves to do something else lol. That night, you notice he locked the door of your room and put the wardrobe in front of it, just in case.

Swapfell Papyrus - You swear he's running straight into the killer to see you get jumpscared. Rus is not scared at all, he thinks that's hilarious how scared you are and he can't help but ruin the game for you either by making funny comments during the scary moments or scaring you on purpose when you give him the controller. He loves gaming with you. You two should do that more often.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine doesn't want to play because he thinks it's too cliche the monster following you is a monster. That game is making fun of monsters and it's not even realistic. Everyone knows monsters can hear well and so hiding in closets won't save you. To prove it to you, later that day, he jumpscares you by jumping out of a closet, making you scream in terror. ... Wait, you didn't hear him? Are humans stupid??? How did you survive for this long without any survival instinct? That seems ridiculous.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee is playing the same way you are, except that when he gets jumpscared, he drops the controller and refuses to play again before at least two hours lol. That's two days now you're in the same corridor. You can't move on because you have to sneak behind the killer and none of you want to do it. You end up giving up that game and go to play Mario Kart instead lol.

[sufferu]

YOU know the implications of the Alternate BTZ is honestly horrifying from Subaru's perspective. Like imagine if the girl you liked just up and sold you to a man you barely knew and humiliated you in front of the entire country and worded it as if your actions warranted this punishment. Like...WTF? Even worse I can imagine Subaru justifying this. His self-worth is bad enough already, now imagine if it went so far that he felt that Emilia had every right to sell off a useless person like him. Because in his head Emilia did nothing wrong. He messed up. MIND you Subaru would have no idea if slavery was legal in this world at all. It doesn't help that Julius's harsh words and how the other members of the Anastasia camp act around him that they literally view him as nothing more then a useless burden and at worst trash and - and he can't blame them for that can he...

Anastasia = Villainous Merchant Princess who Subaru has heard rumors of how she's ruthlessly crushes her competition if they stand in her way.

Julius = Perfect Knight on the inside. A monster on the inside who constantly taunts and belittles Subaru and treats him as if he were some sort of pet!

Ricardo = Big Scary Wolf man who threatens to hurt Subaru if he so much as breaths the wrong way.

Pearlbatons: Tiny terrors who play cruel pranks on Subaru which cause things to break and leads to him getting into trouble and having more time added onto his SENTENCE and - and it's a lot okay!

Iron Fang Mercenary: A bunch of hardened warriors who are constantly watching and waiting for him to mess up again. They all hate him or see him as Julius's pet and he can't go anywhere without them watching him and their ALWAYS watching him.

Emilia: A kind and caring girl unless you cross her at which point your nothing but a useless burden whose better off sold to the competition for an alliance. (Side Note: Probably be downright devious if somewhere along the line Subaru learns of the Emilia's camps alliance with Anastasia and some badly placed words leads to Subaru to concluding that Emilia selling Subaru to Julius led her to gaining a partnership with the Anastasia camp and well - he's not totally wrong lmao

Double Side Note: Subaru has mixed reactions about his relationship with Emilia and wonders if she was only tolerating him due to debt she owed him which he assumes was cleared when he was taken in by Anastasia who he now owes a massive DEBT too. Subaru feels sick.

AKA: All of this completely douses, lights and burns all of Subaru's fantasy expectations to dust. These people are evil incarnate and he doesn't want to be here. He wants to go HOME! (que late night crying cessions)

Isn’t it great?? :D

I actually really love your addition about how it looks like Emilia legitimately just traded him away as a slave, that’s really fun~ Poor Subaru. This whole place is terrible. He thought he could at least trust Emilia, and now this?? Subaru wants his mom. Subaru really, REALLY wants his mom—!

One more addition, just for fun: Subaru doesn’t have his own room, in this version. When he was at the Karsten Estate he was literally surrounded by an actual army in the middle of the nation’s Capital, but Anastasia doesn’t have that level of security. She has a good deal of it and all, but not to the point where she’s alright with leaving him unsupervised for twelve hours a day without anyone in arm’s reach if Something Happens. Thus, Julius has remodeled his own room so that there’s room for a second bed, and — yeah, so, Subaru doesn’t even really feel like he can cry himself to sleep at night anymore.

…There’s a reason he barely lasts two months.

[chillian-murphy]

😈Dominance and sadism headcanons😈

Headcanons about Tommy, Jackson, Jonathan, Robert, Neil, and Kitten being dominant and/or sadistic in bed. I realize that not all sadists are doms and not all doms are sadists, but pairing them together is kinda like peanut butter and chocolate? Like you just gotta do it. NSFW for obvious reasons.

Tommy

*Strict daddy

*Brat tamer, straight up hoping you'll misbehave so he can throw you over his lap and spank you to tears

*Big on sexually training you, if he takes you on you're going to learn to deep throat, receive anal penetration, and more. He sees you as putty to be shaped.

*Uses pleasure as a means to manipulate you. He'll fuck you dumb, get you addicted to his cock, and reward every behavior he wants to see with orgasm after orgasm until you can't think for yourself.

*Praises you because he loves seeing the effect it has on you and how much you want his approval, usually by stroking your hair and calling you a good girl.

*Loves showing you off like a fancy trinket to his colleagues and rivals. Your obedience and allure serves to make you quite the status symbol, making him look even more powerful than he already does. He'll even go as far as having you warm his cock during business meetings.

*Favorite form of discipline is impact play, including pussy spankings. He'll use riding crops or his belt, but his favorite is his bare hand.

*Doesn't care much for bondage, if he wants you to stay in place, he expects you to stay in that place and position simply by being told. If he wants to restrain you, he'd rather do it himself by pinning you down.

*Feels affection towards you, but ultimately sees you as more of a pet than a partner. He wants someone who's more of an equal as a significant other.

Jackson

*Feral fucking sadist. Wants to see you struggle, wants to see you cry.

*Doesn't use safewords. Honestly more of an abuser than a dom.

*Sessions with him are purely sexual. In fact, you could even call him the Sex Machine because he nuts and bolts.

*Favorite position is doggie with your face being mashed into the mattress.

*Loves leaving marks all over you. Bruises, bite marks, rug burn. He wants everyone to know you're his, and for you to be feeling him for days.

*Likes to get wet and messy. Coming all over your face, facefucking you until you're hacking up saliva, pissing anywhere you'll let him. Once again, he likes to mark his territory.

*Favorite restraints are metal handcuffs. Yes, they hurt after a while... that's why he likes them.

*Big on verbal degradation, filthiest mouth imaginable. Constantly finding new, innovative ways to call you a whore and to make sure you feel like one.

*Don't expect aftercare. Don't expect him to toss you a towel to clean yourself off. Don't expect him to call you back.

Jonathan

*Cold, calculating, and impossible to please. His ideal sub is a type A perfectionist who feeds on criticism.

*Emotional sadist like nobody's business. Studies you intently to find out the exact insults that will cut you down and make you feel less like a person and more like a tool to be used.

*Not particularly affectionate, but neither of you expect that from him. When it comes to showing you that he cares, it's through the great lengths he goes through to provide for you physically, keep you safe, and make your surroundings comfortable.

*Extends his dominance beyond the bedroom and all around treats you like an object that exists to serve him, sometimes literally. If he needs a coffee table, he expects you on all fours, holding as still as you can as his scalding hot mug sits on your back. Better not let it spill, there will be consequences.

*Impact play is passé to him. Been there, done that. Sure, spankings can be fun, but he'd much rather stick you with needles, zap you with a violet wand, or pump you full of aphrodisiacs while forcing you to wear a chastity belt that prevents you from getting any relief.

*His most effective punishment, though, is... nothing. No insults. No probing. Nonchalant conversations about what to have for dinner. Watching you unravel while you try to read into his actions and figure out what you can do to please him again is far more interesting for him to watch than giving you anything concrete.

*Loves rope bondage, especially intricate shibari designs. If he's feeling particularly inspired, he'll include predicament bondage elements.

*Generally, being his sub is more dynamic- and service-oriented than it is about sex. The two of you do fuck, but it's surprisingly vanilla. His kicks primarily come from performing highly unethical psychological experiments on you while you're trying to do his laundry.

Robert

*His entire life has been laid out for him since he was a child. His time with you is the only time he actually feels in control.

*However, he's also spent his life getting exactly what he wants, when he wants, so he can be difficult to please.

*Loves playing sugar daddy, treating you to expensive trips and luxury clothes in return for you showing his gratitude.

*This also means that he'll threaten to revoke his financial support if you misbehave.

*Constantly pulling you aside for quickies in semi-public places: dark corners off nightclubs, his private plane while waiting to take off, the backs of cars. He's thrilled by the idea of getting caught.

*Wants you by his side even when he's working so he can pull you into his office for "stress relief"

*Not particularly sadistic, but owns a variety of high end floggers, paddles, and other spanking implements in case the mood strikes. He'll leave you with a bright flush across your cheeks but is unlikely to leave bruises.

*Incredibly affectionate during aftercare, to the point of being needy. He's bad with emotions and just needs to know that he's a good daddy and that he's taking care of you and that you're not going to leave.

Neil

*Much more competent as a dom than people expect. Still, he's not THAT dominant, it's just enough to deny people's expectations.

*Warm, playful, and goofy. Scenes are gonna be pretty soft with him.

*Plays best with littles and petplayers. Even if it's not a caregiver/little dynamic, he takes on kind of a caregiver vibe.

*Surprisingly good with brats, he knows how to match their energy. Punishments are pretty unconventional, and based more on him engaging in irritating or frustrating behavior, like only speaking to you in Dad Jokes for an entire afternoon.

*Even if he's not into the harder stuff, he loves to experiment and explore new kinks. He'll try anything once. Or twice. Eight or nine times until he really decides he dislikes it.

*So. Much. Praise. If you have a praise kink, this is your dream man.

*The only restraints he owns are the inexpensive ones with the velcro closures, although that's probably for the best because he doesn't know how to tie any knots and he's too scatterbrained to keep track of a key for locking cuffs.

*Even if you're a masochist, he feels kinda weird about hurting you. He'll spank and pull hair, but that's about it.

*For him, domming is more or less just foreplay for aftercare.

Kitten

*Will turn you into the slut you've always dreamed of being

*Loves to tease until you're sobbing and begging. You can look, but you can't touch.

*Dresses you up however she sees fit, you're her little dolly.

*Excels at being affectionate and condescending at the same time. "What a good puppy! Look how much looser and sloppier your little hole has become since our last session."

*Favorite spanking implement is a leather paddle with special cutouts so it leaves heart-shaped imprints on your ass.

*"Your son calls me Mommy, too"

*As a professional sex worker, she's seen and spent a lot of time working with kinks she's personally ambivalent towards, and has a very "live and let live" attitude towards it all.

*Has lowkey cracked at least one egg by repeatedly forcefemming a client (at their request)

*Aftercare is pretty standard, mostly cuddling and maybe sharing snacks. The quality of the snacks depend on how much she likes you, though.

[thewistlingbadger]

And part of this makes me wonder if THIS was the motivation to have Jinx be the way she is. Silco is the one telling Jinx to go apeshit, be deadly, raise hell as long as she's raising hell at the appropriate moments.

"'excise your doubts, Jinx. Be what they fear, Jinx.'"

"You're strong now, just as you were always meant to be."

Jinx is NOT weak. She is capable of not only doing the unspeakable but of taking care of herself and looking out for her own self interest. Silco doesn't have to worry about people using Jinx to get to him because they're just as afraid of her as they are of him. She's proven to everyone she's not someone you mess with, unless you want to get blown into pieces. She has the skills, the knowledge, and capacity to get shit done and put people in their place.

Children are the weaknesses of parents because they are vulnerable. Look at Vander. Vander gave up everything, twice, to protect his kids because he knew that even though they were skilled, they didn't have enough to handle Piltover or Silco. They were strong for their age, but overall still weak, and that's why he had to protect them.

Marcus is willing to do whatever Silco says because Silco is willing to do whatever it takes to keep Marcus in check, even if that comes at the expense of Ren. And why is Marcus so horrified when he comes home and sees them playing? It's not just the breached privacy or the fact that Silco is a dangerous man, it has to do with the fact that Ren is a little girl, no older than six. Not only is she in no way prepared to defend herself, she's also not in a position to recognize danger. She let Silco in his goons into her house, even though they were strangers, because he told her.

Renni's biggest grievance with Silco is that in her view her son died on his watch. The factory was not a place that was supposed to be attacked. It was supposed to be a place that was "safe," a place where her son wouldn't be vulnerable to all the danger of the streets of Zaun. But ultimately her son ends dying in the factory, he was vulnerable the whole time.

Jinx, emotionally and mentally IS vulnerable but this isn't a side of her that she lets on to people. Most people think she's crazy not because they're aware of her mental illness, but because they see the way she attacks others, how swiftly she unloads entire packs of bullets into people, and how she does it with a smile on her face. Physically in that manner she is not vulnerable to being attacked and given her standing with Silco, she also isn't vulnerable socially. She stomps on everyone's toes and doesn't have to worry about retaliation because if they got a problem they gotta go through Silco, and no one goes through Silco. Jinx is Silco's child but because she is not vulnerable in a conventional way, she isn't a threat to him. No one is going to use her to get to him, she's never going to purposefully be put in danger for the sake of unnerving Silco.

We often hear claims of Silco "weaponizing" jinx and a portion of us dislike this claim because Jinx is a very shitty weapon for Silco to wield. She doesn't follow orders, she's unpredictable, she always causes problems for him more than she fixes them, and she puts a target on his back. But what if "weaponizing" Jinx never had anything to do with Silco himself? What if it had everything to do with Jinx? What if he made her into something dangerous not so he could use her, but for her to use herself? And ultimately in that process, protecting Silco's own ass in a way. If Jinx is able to be "strong" then she isn't a weakness, she can't be used against Silco, and she herself ends up being protected from danger because she has the skills to defend herself.

Silco's main trauma is the betrayal, and there's two key components to that event: 1. He and Vander were family and 2. Silco could not defend himself. Vander was his brother, and he betrayed him. This wound has left Silco viewing family as weakness and also as something that's false in a way. In s1 EP3 he doesn't understand why Vander would reject Silco, would rather die wastefully to protect his kids. Vander's resolve on this matter deeply upsets him. Later in the show, he is constantly undermining Jinx's past familial connections because to Silco, family is weakness. They lead you into a false sense of security when at any moment they could turn on you and hurt you.

"Your sister is gone. You know that as well as I do."

"Vander wasn't the man you thought he was."

"Everyone betrays us Jinx. Vander, her-"

"They're here for the crystal, not for you. Have you forgotten where you came from? Who found you? Who took care of you? I am your family."

Silco trusted Vander with his life. They spent years together building up the cause, they lost Felicia, who was their family too. And what did Vander do? Strike Silco down when he was none the wiser. Ambushed him in the river, knowing that in a fight between him and himself, Silco would never stand a chance. Silco isn't a fighter, his words are his weapons. The only reason he came out of the river alive was pure luck. Pure luck that Vander had a knife on him. Pure luck Silco had enough sense to him to grab the knife and strike. Pure luck that the strike caught Vander off guard and gave Silco enough time to get out.

Arcane fans who are convinced or have convinced themselves that silco is a completely righteous girl dad who'd loves and protects all children like he protects powder are so funny. As if he didn't threaten to take renni's(?) Child out for disobedience and, in that same scene, mocks her by saying jayce already did that for her. Not to mention the whole thing with Marcus' child. Stg all those adopting everyone girldad interpretations are removing the wonderful sauce and cheese of the very tasty complex morally Grey leaning black silco pizza

[sillygoofyqueer]

So, originally Crowyuan occured when Bingge was already Demon Emperor, then came the idea of him becoming known as the Corvid King while Binghe was still a little disciple. What if he transmigrates and becomes known as the Corvid King before Binghe is even born? What if he finds this poor abused slave boy and decides This Is Mine Now before realising Oops! He's taken the scum villain under his wing, metaphorically and possibly physically too. Too bad, that's his son/little brother now. Oh but what if he transmigrates a little earlier and it goes the same except it's with both Shen Jiu AND Yue Qi? Or with all the other slave children too because he feels bad just saving two, even if those two are the only ones relevant to the original plot?

Wow....the Original™ Crowyuan timeline........back in the good old days where I didn't have so many different AUs to think about.....(/silly I love them all) ANYWAY. Corvid King crowyuan would definitely stumble across the street kids - he gains B-points n shit through answering prayers and gaining followers, so of course he's going to listen to the prayers of some poor little street children with nowhere else to go. It's not like he doesn't have the means to look after them, whether that be giving them to couples who badly want a child but can't have one for whatever reason, or placing them into orphanages that he funds himself (note: they don't know that he's funding it, they just believe there's a generous rich person donating whenever they need the money). However, when he's dealing with this new band of street kids, there is one child who just....does not want to let go of him. He scorns Crowyuan's existence when the deity first finds them in the alleys, offering gentle words of reassurance despite the late hour and leading the children along (yes, "Come Little Children" style, what kind of animal do you take me for?). Unlike the other naïve idiots, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have seen this played out before. A stranger comes in the night, promising food and a home and love, and those who follow are found not long after. Dead. Crowyuan watches on in...a mixture of respect and worry as one of the children tries to explain the danger of following strangers in the night to the others, and another stands back and watches it happen, scorn clear upon his face. These children should not know the harsh dangers of life, not so young, but it is good that at least two of them are smart enough to not trust strangers, even if that isn't necessary in this instance. So, he offers proof of who he is. He sits down and tells them who he is, and he makes them pray, so he can listen to what they want. The snappy, unimpressed child doesn't, he just glares and scoffs when his friend drops his head down, but then shifts as if to protect him if necessary. When he respond's to this friend's prayer aloud - "Xiao-Jiu would be happy and safe in a bed, I think" - everyone seems to startle. (Of course, he has to repeat this exercise many times until this snappish child, this 'Xiao-Jiu', finally relents). He finally is able to lead these children to a nearby orphanage, ran by people who could do so much good with just the right amount of gold, and he drops them off there along with a pouch filled with gold. However, when he turns to leave, Xiao-Jiu clings to him. He stares up at him with a sort of fury in his eyes, demanding to know who he thinks he is, ditching them after dumping them off with these random people. A street child who speaks to a god, whose fear of being left by his saviour outweighs his fear of the power this creature wields, and does not hesitate to cling to this deity's robes with his dirty hands.

[shazzbaa]

I'm sorry bit I just love the idea of Poor Edward thinking he's hot shit with his creepy gifts and deranged letters, then here comes Samuel who's even more fucked up than him, looking for some homoerotic stabbing while Edward cries. Baby faced loser just cannot handle an experienced freak.

LAKSJDFLASEKJES INCREDIBLE ASK TO RECEIVE, THANK YOU

but okay listen I think they're on different freaky axes. Stalking, sending someone your skin in the mail, getting possessive and jealous enough to kidnap their baby, those are all ROMANTIC freak activities. Samuel did not get the skin and go "pff, amateur, get on my level," LIKE HE WAS PRETTY DISTURBED TO GET EDWARDS SKIN IN THE MAIL. and then Sam is not really romantically inclined, he is just SEXUALLY freaky (calling him an "experienced freak" absolutely delights me but I don't know if this is true, he DOES like homoerotic stabbing but hes still a confused and repressed Victorian gentleman) while Edward simply does not seem to be sexually inclined at all?? TBH I pretty strongly headcanon him as asexual just based on how he handles love and marriage... So they're just on different tracks.

BUT HONESTLY?? IM NOT EVEN SURE THATS THE ISSUE. gets fully sidetracked with my Poor Edward Is A Kinky Ace headcanons

Thoughts & Evidence: - pain/injury: top - he "dislikes butchery" and seems to have a flair for causing psychological terror over simple murder, but causing people real tangible pain is the one thing he truly misses in his happiest ending. - restraint/confinement: switch - hes SO fixated on the coffin thing but ALSO in That One Very Normal Silverer Option hes fine playing along when YOU restrain HIM, it's only when you threaten to murder him that he actually freaks out - control; dom/sub: bottom - this never occurred to me during the ambition but makes a lot of sense in retrospect... he wants a master to pledge himself to and he's not sure if you're going to take that slot or not so he flips back and forth between pitching himself as a loyal henchman and a sadistic tormentor as he tries to capture your affection. But the only way to actually be with him is to fully take control, to essentially tell him "new plan: i do whatever I want, and you lock yourself in this building until I get back <3" and he's SO HAPPY TO DO IT.

All this to say that like, there's a couple of actual obstacles here, but neither of them are "erotic stabbing is too much for Edward." HE just doesn't wanna get murdered! BUT LIKE THATS PERFECTLY COMPATIBLE, SAMUEL IS ON BOARD FOR BEING THE GUY GETTING LOVINGLY MURDERED!!!!

I strongly suspect the actual obstacles here are: (a) Sam is too much of a bottom to be Poor Edward's master but also (b) Poor Edward is chemically impaired. In the whole first chunk of Light Fingers he's grabbing you constantly, easily overpowers you, and has NO PROBLEMS inflicting death as long as it's not permanent, but after the moon-milk he NEVER TOUCHES YOU AGAIN unless/until you actually consent to the wedding. THIS IS A FASCINATING DETAIL TO ME. He's clearly frustrated with you at points and trying to force your hand, and he doesn't seem to mind you getting hurt in the Nightmare-Orphanage when he's not the one doing it; can he just not bear to attack you himself????? ARE HE AND SAMUEL BOTH EQUALLY FRUSTRATED BY HIS INABILITY TO JUST FIGHT SAM