#maybe you should reconsider something about yourself

[iiusia]

hm.

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 9: Cock Rings w/ Clark Kent

gonna be honest, researching cock ring porn made me question even more than usual if I am a lesbian but I do it for u all so here u go

Kinktober Masterlist

“I don’t want to know how you got this made,” Clark said once he saw it. You shrugged and then, reconsidering, nodded.

“Yeah, you won’t be able to look Bruce in the eye for a while.”

“I just…” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you even approach him with the idea? No wait, I said I didn’t want to know.”

“Hey Bruce,” you mocked. “Can I borrow some Kryptonian to make a sex toy for my really hot, really submissive alien husband?”

“Please stop talking.” You giggled at his distress and shrugged.

“Who knows? Maybe this will come in handy sooner than you think.”

You and your big mouth.

It was common for enemies to use kryptonite against Clark. Hell, it was their main go-to. But no one had ever used pink kryptonite until today. Bruce struggled to get Clark into the Watchtower medical bay, a place that rarely saw Clark in there unless he was visiting a teammate, and promptly fled before you could ask him anything other than what had knocked Superman out of the battle.

“Okay, baby,” you whispered as you pushed his hands away from your hips. Clark’s heavy, ragged breathing assured you that he was alive but the raspy undertone made your heart race in a way that was entirely different from his. He whined at your denial and you cursed under your breath. If you let him fuck you right now, he’d destroy you. Clark was good at maintaining his strength in his everyday life, including the bed, but with pink kryptonite involved, he had no inhibitions right now.

“Okay. Okay.” Your mind went back to the gag gift that was currently sitting in a lead box in your bag. Fuck. Maybe you were clairvoyant. How did you come up with this shit?

“I’m going to grab something, okay? And when I come back you better be out of that suit and on your knees like the good boy I know you can be. Right?”

Clark whined, his erection straining against his skin tight suit. You brushed your hand over it and grinned as he moaned. He reached for the collar of his suit and you left him to it. Your bag was close by, luckily, and you fished through it until you found the little box.

Turning around, you found Clark kneeling on the ground completely naked with his heavy, long cock hanging between his legs. Big, blue eyes blinked up at you and he had to be painfully hard based on the tears lining his lashes.

“This should help, baby. It’s gonna make you feel better and then I will make you feel so good.”

He whined again, a pathetic sound that made your traitorous cunt throb. Now was not the time to get horny. Not when he needed you to focus.

The kryptonite infused cock ring had been a joke. Clark and you had poked fun at the idea of using sex toys on him, but nothing could faze or restrain the Man of Steel. Until you had gotten drunk with Dinah one night and came up with a brilliant idea that Bruce reluctantly agreed to help make, solely so you could stop saying he owes you for saving his life that one time.

It came in handy now. Despite Clark being hard as hell, you were able to fit the cock ring snugly around the base of his cock. His balls hung heavy over the edge of the metal, but he shuddered in relief at the feeling.

“Does that feel better?” you cooed, stroking your hand through his soft hair. He pushed his head closer to your hand and sighed at your gentle touch. The pink kryptonite effects would wear off in about two to three hours, but the green kryptonite ensured that he wouldn’t hurt you as you helped him out.

You settled yourself onto the ground in front of him, your knees pressed against his, and reached out to grasp his veiny, thick cock in your hand. He was so big that it made your hands look tiny and you always marveled at the fact that you somehow fit him in your mouth, cunt, and ass.

His hips jerked at your touch and then he let his head fall until his forehead pressed against your shoulder. You pressed a delicate kiss to his temple and started a slow, even stroke along his dick as his hips rolled along with the drag of your touch.

“So beautiful, Clark. Once you’re not affected by the kryptonite, I’ll make sure to put this cock ring on you and tease you until you’re begging me. I could probably even spank you and leave a mark for once. Wouldn’t that be nice, right? Seeing you covered in pretty little red marks?”

Clark moaned, wonton and broken and perfect. With one hand cradling his head and the other jerking him off, you kept talking him through it.

“You’re so strong that this ring won’t stop you, but I love knowing I have more power than you right now. I love knowing you trust me to treat you well. You know that I will always take care of you, right?”

He nodded and you kissed his cheek. “That’s my good boy. Let’s see how many times we can get you to come until it wears off.”

[zeltqz]

In which ran is being gentle with children or something along those lines and reader in that moment is like get me pregnant now then smut 🫡

knocked up | ran haitani

content. breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, established relationship, daddy kink, shower sex

You never were much of a kids person. If someone asked you how many kids you wanted, your answer was already none really. 

Kids were fine, you didn’t hate them, you just didn’t care about them enough to ruin your body for nine months and push one out. 

But right now, looking at the sight of your boyfriend Ran Haitani playing with your little niece had you reconsidering your choice. You’d never seen your niece happier and though you should be fuming with jealousy right now that she prefers your boyfriend—who she’s only known for a day—over you, you can’t help but admire Ran making her laugh, lifting her in the air until she’s dying with laughter and begging to be put down, the sight of him baby talking her, carrying her—

It’s making you look at Ran in a different light. Men that know how to handle kids are so…hot. 

That’s why you can barely contain yourself when your sister comes over to collect her daughter; your adorable niece merely waving goodbye at you and instead runs over at full speed with those tiny legs of hers over towards Ran and hugs his leg tight before being escorted out of the house by her mother.

“I’m gonna go shower baby.” Ran loops a hand around your waist and pulls you in, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Okay,” you murmur, relishing his warmth beside you before its ripped away as he heads upstairs. You can hear the shower turn on minutes later and shift until you’re leaning against the wall, contemplating something.

Your pussy throbs, your hormones working overtime as you can only think about his cock filling and stuffing you to the brim, his cum slowly leaking out of your folds and soaking the sheets. Or maybe you want his cock to stay plugged inside your pussy, making sure not even a drop escapes and ensuring your chances of success.

With that, you’re heading up the stairs, into your shared bedroom and begin to strip, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake as you enter the bathroom. Your presence is silent, almost non existent as you slip into the shower behind Ran and loop your arms around his midsection. 

He gets startled at first but overcomes it easily, turning to look down at your head digging into the firm muscle of his back. Slowly, you kissed down the slope of his back before moving back up his spine.

“I want you s’bad Ran,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Show me.” He turns around to face you before you’re pouncing on him, sucking his lips in a desperate attempt of a kiss. 

He groans into your mouth, gripping onto your wet, slippery skin and presses you against the wall. He doesn’t tease, sliding his hands up and down your sides as his tongue licks into your mouth before cupping your breasts. Ran licks your bottom lip, circling his tongue over it and stroking at your tits, making your nipples pebble beneath his thumbs. 

Your fingers clutch at the wet tiles as Ran flicks your nipples with his fingertips. 

“I’m—” you start, “I want you so bad Ran.” Your hands loop around his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Want you to breed me so badly Ran please . I need it s’badly.” 

As if your words weren’t holding enough desire to slowly drive him to madness, you had to add the cherry on top, lowering your voice impossibly quieter as you practically breathe out, “Please daddy,” in his ear.

Then, suddenly, you’re being spinned around, Ran’s hips pressing into you, trapping you against the wall with a deep groan that has your stomach fluttering. You inch your head backwards to glance his way but he’s not looking at you. 

His brows are drawn in concentration as he nudges your legs apart with his knee, those big hands of his spreading your cheeks apart. The water dripping from the shower head makes its way to between your legs, giving him the leverage he needs to slip his finger inside you. 

One finger turns to two and he’s slowly scissoring you open, relishing in the feeling of your walls clinging and squeezing the length of his fingers. 

With his spare hand, he pulls your head back by your hair, until your back is arched painfully, until his lips are right beside your ear. “Call me daddy again baby. Wanna hear it.”

“Daddy please, fuck me.”

“Yeah?” The squelching sounds coming from your pussy every time his fingers thrusted in and out were so obscene , blood filling your ears as you pushed your hips back to feel him deeper.

“Yeah, fuck a baby into me, please—” 

You felt empty when he pulled his fingers out so abruptly but you were quickly filled to the brim with his cock seconds later, thrusting shallowly into you. He does it twice, heavy grunts spilling out from between his lips as he continues fucking into your tight, wet cunt.  

He pulls on your hair, tugging you back further and moans your name by your ear, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he fucks into you once, twice, the third thrust pressing you further into the wall. An inferno rose inside you as his cock slides thick and heavy between your legs.

“Ah! Ran!” you shout, scrabbling uselessly against the tiles to brace yourself against the force of his thrusts. 

“Good girl. Taking me so well, fuck,” Ran slaps your ass hard enough to sting. His hands creep up the sides of your body to cup your boobs, kneading them roughly, pinching your nipples painfully. They come alive beneath his touch, cradled in his strong hands.

It’s driving you crazy, the way Ran runs his tongue along the length of your jaw, sucking at your neck, biting your shoulder all the while piercing the deepest parts of you with his cock.

You feel the heat between your legs again, your orgasm searing its way up to your core. You whine as Ran starts fucking into you faster, his head thrown back in ecstasy. He slams into you without remorse, rolling his hips with abandon, grinding himself into your quivering flesh.

“So good—ah fuck—don’t stop Ran please !” you scream.

“My god, woman,” Ran pants as you clench around him, slamming your body against his. His hands join yours against the wall, cradling them in his big grip before moving them to lock around your neck. “Screaming my name like a whore ,” he whispers in your ear, tilting your head back till you’re looking at him. “Want my cum deep inside you don’t you baby?”

“Mhm-mhm—”

He slowly buries his tongue in your throat, sucking deeply in your mouth, sending a bolt of heat through your system. 

His whole body goes rigid, squeezing your throat tight enough that you feel your airways restrict. Spasms go through your abdomen as Ran grips you tighter and starts thrusting wildly. No matter how hard he bucks into you, he seems unable to penetrate deeper than he already has. Your limbs shake as your nerves fire off all over the place. Your knees give out under you as Ran pumps into you with so much force that it almost hurts to breathe, small whimpers escaping your throat.

The sensation becomes too intense, a deep burn in your groin that only grows hotter and hotter as your body gives in to its climax.

He slams into you a final time before releasing you with a satisfied sigh, pressing his forehead against your temple as he gently kisses the side of your face. You can feel his cum pulsating within you, a hot flush spreading through your body as he breathes heavily behind you.

He's about to pull out before you stop him. "Wait," you say, catching hold of him and pulling him closer. "Keep going." 

"What?"

"...I wanna get pregnant. I wanna have your babies," you whisper huskily into his ear, your arms tightening around him. 

Ran freezes, holding you close to him as he comes back down to earth. It takes a few moments for his mind to catch up with what just happened. "You were serious about that baby? I thought that was all talk." 

"No. I want it," you admit. "I changed my mind."

"You changed your mind...?" He sounds dazed and looks down at you to see nothing but pure seriousness on your face.

You nod. "Yeah."

"Well... okay," he says after a moment, kissing you once more before removing himself from you. As he moves away from you, his eyes meet yours, drinking in every little detail. "Gonna fuck you as many times as we need until you're knocked up."

[bunnyreaper]

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders. 

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.) 

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge. 

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora. 

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door. 

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me." 

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing. 

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in." 

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does. 

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail. 

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over. 

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be. 

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show. 

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club. 

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you. 

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently." 

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats. 

"Yeah, she's really worried." 

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything." 

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge. 

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour. 

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon." 

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party." 

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better." 

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections." 

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass. 

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work." 

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree." 

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse. 

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted. 

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously. 

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to. 

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye." 

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure. 

"How many friends?" He asks. 

"4." You answer instantly. 

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave. 

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass." 

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless. 

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.  

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through. 

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature. 

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni." 

"We can go over names and details when you're ready." 

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do." 

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say. 

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?" 

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners. 

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do." 

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours." 

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then." 

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out. 

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?" 

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."  

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter. 

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits. 

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine." 

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"  

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly. 

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man. 

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home." 

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment. 

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain. 

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party. 

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside. 

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you. 

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?" 

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further. 

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin. 

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms. 

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly. 

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then." 

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw. 

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road. 

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so. 

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it." 

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security. 

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things." 

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

 *

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit. 

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct. 

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more. 

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?" 

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me." 

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics." 

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover. 

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive." 

"I'll try to make it as little as possible." 

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?" 

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please." 

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?" 

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work." 

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations." 

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause." 

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me." 

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."  

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it. 

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan." 

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions." 

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable." 

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common." 

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."  

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine." 

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?" 

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass." 

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Andrew and Ashley x Male reader who can commune with the dead?

Gotcha gotcha

Graves Siblings x Medium!Male Reader

To be completely honest….the ability to talk to ghosts isn’t as cool as it sounds

Most would expect ghosts to hang around graveyards or abandoned buildings like a school, or a hospital, or a house- but no. They were everywhere

To be honest, it made sense. Why would a ghost want to hang around where they died? Thats just depressing

So, they wander. Following their loved ones. Trying to live an empty husk of their old life. Being fucking weird.

Which made it hard for you to tell the difference a lot of the time. Sometimes you’d talk to a person and they’d turn out to be a ghost!

Now you look crazy!

Like recently…

The sidewalks were virtually empty. It was getting late into the evening, and it made sense that people would head home. You yourself were making your way back to your apartment building when you spotted something….strange.

A girl. A little girl. She looked no older than…7 maybe? In all honesty you were never good guessing ages, but you knew enough to deduce that this kid was too young to be by herself. She looked around anxiously, her blonde pigtails moving every time she turned her head. Her hands fussed with the hem of her purple shirt that had a flower on it. It looked like she was looking for her parent.

You were- hesitant about walking over. A strange man approaching a child in the middle of the sidewalk looked sketchy, especially since you were nowhere near looking like this kid’s parents. But- you figured that if you didn’t, some actual creep would. So, you hesitantly stepped towards her.

“Heyyy…kid,” the girl flinched a little as you approached, making you regret your decision. Though, it was too late to turn back now so, “Uh- where’s your mom?..”

The girl blinked up at you and then looked away, hands still fidgeting with her shirt, “Away…” she sounded sad.

“Your dad?..” you raised an eyebrow.

“Also away..” she shrunk a little, this seemed like a touchy subject.

Picking up the vibe, you steered clear of parent related questions, “Are you…looking for someone? You look lost.”

She glanced up at you, and then back to her hands- her purple eyes welling with tears, “Y-Yeah…” she squeaked out.

“Well, maybe I can help you find them,” you knelt down to her height, “There aren’t a lot of people out right now, so it shouldn’t be too hard…do you remember what they look like?”

The girl nodded, “Uhh…two adults. Black hair. A boy with green eyes and a girl with pink eyes.”

Two black haired adults with green and pink eyes. Okay! Easy enough! Must be siblings…or babysitters….or….some third thing. You stood up, “Okay! Should be easy enough!” You held your hand out for the little girl, “My name is Y/N, what’s yours?”

The little girl studied your hand curiously, taking it with a small smile, “Nina!”

You and Nina searched for the adults she was supposed to be with, until you came across them sitting and eating in the outdoor area of a restaurant

You were…baffled. These people supposedly lost track of the kid they were supposed to be watching and decided to get something to eat???

You were reconsidering handing this kid over to them, but what were you going to do? Take her to the authorities? You didn’t exactly trust pigs around this kid either, so you approached the table

The pair looked at you with hostility, the man reading a paper and the woman poking it in boredom. You were clearly interrupting something. Maybe they hadn’t noticed Nina…

“Uhm- sorry if I’m interrupting anything..” you stammered, “But, I think you lost something?..” you nodded your head to where Nina was standing beside you.

Both black haired individuals narrowed their eyes at you, looks of confusion clear across their faces.

“What the fuck are you on about?…” the woman’s eyes narrowed.

You felt yourself grow flushed with embarrassment, Nina hasn’t said anything or run to hug either of these individuals….it also felt like she wasn’t holding your hand anymore…

You glanced down at your side, and lo and behold- Nina was gone. You whipped around, looking around like a mad man for the kid.

“Wh- what the?” Your eyes widened and you held out your hands defensively, “I swear there was a kid here!”

The man leaned towards the woman, whispering to her loud enough for you to hear, “You have your gun on you, right?..” the woman nodded.

Shit! Okay! Sweat poured down your face as you nervously looked around some more to avoid getting shot, “I-I swear! There was a kid here, about like….7? Maybe younger? Blonde pigtails, purple shirt with a flower on it,” you didn’t notice both individuals eyes widen, “Her name was Nina—“

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT NAME?!” The woman grabbed you by your shirt collar, pulling you close. She stared daggers at you, looking ready to kick you in the groin before shooting you dead. You gulped.

“Ashley!” The man slammed the newspaper down, reprimanding her to let you go. Ashley obliged, though turned away and grumbled. The man gave her a final glare before looking at you, “I’m sorry about her,” he had a calm demeanor…but there was something uneasy about his voice, “You said…Nina?”

You nodded, “Yeeaahhh, but I’m starting to realize that…might’ve just been a ghost. Whoops.” You held out your hands anxiously.

“Dumb bitch is still following you around?” Ashley muttered under her breath.

You turned your attention to her, “I’m sorry what?”

“Don’t mind her,” the man smiled uneasily, “I’m Andrew…now- what the fuck did you mean by ‘might’ve been a ghost’? Is this a…regular occurrence?”

“Kinda..” you rubbed the back of your neck nervously, “I kind have this sixth sense. Some people have increased empathy, I can talk to body detached spirits!” You looked Andrew and Ashley over, “Did you- know this Nina?”

“No!” They both said in perfect unison, Ashley seemingly offended while Andrew was very defensive. They clearly knew her, but you weren’t going to press any further.

“Oooookkaayyyyyy..” you adverted your gaze from their terrifying…yet alluring…ones.

You wanted to run away and hopefully never run into these people again, but they were insistent on keeping you in sight

However they knew this Nina, it was something serious.

Ashley didn’t seem to take the fact that she was still following them around very well

Andrew consistently had to calm her down from making a scene

And truthfully….watching them banter was fun

You’d idly stare at the pair, going back and forth with empty threats and remarks the other would make about those threats. It was fun. It was nice

Andrew decided it was best to keep in touch with you, given you running into Nina- though how he said it made it seem like the two had multiple dead people that would be tailing them

You didn’t say this out loud though

The more time you spent with the siblings, your theory became correct

You slowly noticed more and more spirits hanging around the three of you: A scorned looking middle aged woman with similars eyes to Andrew’s, a hooded man with his limbs floating behind him, another hooded man with thick sunglasses and a mask that obscured his face- you could go one.

You never talked with these ghosts, really the only one you did speak to was Nina- though Ashley didn’t like it when you two spoke. She didn’t like Nina in general

If she caught you talking with her, or making motions to indicate she was around- Ashley would spew profanities and horrible things til she went away

It was cruel…and you kind of hated her for it at first

Though the more time you spent with the siblings, you came to realize that they were just….broken individuals

Terrible people put into shitty circumstances

It was almost…disheartening

If things had been different, would they have turned out better? The same? Worse?

It hurt your heart more than you wanted to admit…

You knew your feelings towards these two, at first you assumed it to be just fleeting physical attraction- I mean- look at them!

But no- turns out spending time with people increased your attraction to them. Who knew!

You like to think at least one of them felt the same

You knew the whole reason they kept you around was to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t know anything you shouldn’t have

At least at first it was

Andrew was the first to catch feelings for you

His love of the macabre led to conversations, questions on if you’ve ever spoken with ghosts of poets or writers he was interested in

He didn’t have to know you totally lied when you said yes

Unfortunately you had to read up on old English poets in case he asked about them, but it was a worthy sacrifice

He was just happy to have someone to talk to about an interest that wouldn’t make fun of him

Ashley didn’t take too kindly to this, which is why she fell slower

She didn’t buy any of your kindness, acting distant and cold with you- especially as you got closer with Andrew

It was also causing tension between the two, you could just guess it

So you took the initiative, deciding to spend the day just you and Ashley

Ashley was going to spend the day with you whether she liked it or not…and right now it was looking like a not. Since you two arrived at the park, she hadn’t said a word to you. The only response you would get is a cold shoulder or an icy glare that cut like a knife. It was a little painful to be honest. You never wanted to piss her off or make her hate you, genuinely you wanted to get closer to her. But Ashley was proving to be difficult…

“Sky sure is pretty today!” You said, attempting to break the awkward and tense silence. It did not work, as Ashley continued to ignore you. You wanted nothing more than to book it into the nearby duck pond and just drown, putting this awkward attempt at bonding.

You were walking down a trail, Ashley actively stepping on the cracks as she walked. In the corner of your eye you spotted the familiar spirit of the middle aged woman. Her lighter green eyes narrowing at Ashley.

“What are you looking at?” Ashley’s voice pierced the silence like a katana. You blinked down at her, her eyes narrowed up at you.

“Uhhh,” you glanced at the ghost, “Just a ghost hanging around.”

“Who?”

Holy crap she’s actually talking to you! Don’t fuck this up…

“I haven’t really spoken with her..uh- black hair. Green eyes. Middle aged..” you shrugged your shoulders.

That was apparently the wrong answer- as most of your responses to Ashley were- as she clammed up. This time with more anger. Her eyes darted in the direction you’d been looking in, trying to give the ghost a death glare. Must be another person the siblings had history with, given how similar she looked to them they must be related.

Hmmm….maybe this could be put to your advantage?…

“You know I can talk with ghosts…” you said rather nonchalantly, “I could…deliver a message to this ghost if you want..”

Ashley’s eye seemed to light up at that. For the first time since meeting her, you think you said the right thing.

Ashley’s message to the ghost woman, and any other you came across, was vulgar and worthy of eating soap if you were to repeat it to a living person

A lot of use of the word “hussy” and “cunt”

But you delivered every message, informed Ashley when a ghost was staring at her….minus Nina of course

A ghost child is still a child, and she seemed like too good of a kid to be in the front of Ashley’s wrath

But Ashley didn’t need to know that

For once, she seemed to genuinely enjoy your company. Describing you as “pretty alright” to Andrew

Success!

From then things felt…less tense between the three of you

You were less of a hostage to them and more of a friend

And if you played your cards right….eventually you might be more

[fishnapple]

Current situation: should you let go, wait or act?

This reading is about a current situation of yours that you find confusing or stuck. I hope this reading will give you some more clarity.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

I see that you are in an inertia. The situation is at a standstill. You feel like with just one action, the scale will tip over, and the whole situation will change its direction. But you are wary of this change. Even though you hope for relief from this state, you are someone who needs concrete proofs and a full preparation before you engage in any course of action.

If this is about a connection, things were good before, you and them were getting along pretty well, sharing enjoyable moments together. This connection made you feel relaxed and more carefree. But then one or both of you reached a point where there should be more solid commitment. Maybe you wanted to do something together, and the question of practicality came in. Things seemed not fun anymore but required serious consideration. A light attitude and the attempt to bring the connection back to its previous state wouldn't solve this issue as you have hoped.

If this is about other situations that you need to make a choice, the same things also applied. There's a need for you to slow down a little and reconsider the situation. There are opportunities for you to move forward and build something substantial, but you will have to commit to it with practical plans. I see something related to finance, spending, and accumulating wealth. It could be about changing your mentality about these matters. Instead of your feelings, which have the possibility of being influenced by many factors and likely to change, base you course of actions on the actual facts about the situation and your current resources, even your time and energy are your resources. So the advice for this situation would be to wait a little, you should collect more information and use your resources more wisely.

This might be for the people who are currently single and not committed to anyone. The energy is very independent, someone who is just enjoying life and their freedom.

This might be a little specific, but some of you in the past could have experienced breakups or seen other people's commitments falling apart. This made you sceptical and lose faith in relationships. So now you choose to enjoy being alone, focus more on yourself and explore other options.

In general, you might feel quite contented with the current state, but sometimes you can't help but look at others who are in relationships and feel a desire to be in one. But that means you will have to end your current state, and you want someone who can match your energy, who can let you have the same freedom just like when you were single, which is not easy to find and can be an unrealistic expectation.

For other of you who is not in this dilemma, but in other situations that require you to get out of your comfort zone or independent mode to join others. You will have to make a choice, to leave behind the old habits and cultivate new ones. Maybe you're someone who likes to work alone, to shine on your own, but if you want to join some community or a group project, you will need to work with other people, it will be a shared effort.

The general advice is to make the choice only if you're willing to accept the departure of your old self. It's hard to make a choice and expect things to stay the same.

I think you are someone who is quite practical and reserved. Who doesn't allow themselves to be wild or act rashly, always consider the consequence and the effects of your actions. You are not open with your energy. It feels hard and unmoving, like a wall or a statue.

But the situation that you have in mind is something that has the potential to infiltrate that wall and take you out of your usual shell. Sometimes, we are attracted to things and people that represent the opposite facets of us. It's usually when our energy feels too bounded and static, so we need something to break us out, to balance us.

This situation seems to invite you to be more open with your feelings, let loose a little and mingle more with people. It promises connections, joy and flow. It seems good based on that impression, but I sense a hidden slope in it, one that can make you slide down into being undisciplined and go against your principals. There's a pull that leads to overindulgence, making the restraint in you slowly slipping away. It could be someone close to you invite you to try out new things, new activities, introduce you to new people, or you yourself in the process of going out of your comfort zone, trying out different things that can bring more colours and excitements into your life. But the advice for you here is to stop and think clearly, remain cool headed and logical. Having more boundaries and discernment, knowing when to resist invitations to things that have the potential to affect you negatively. Take time and space to be with yourself only.

This could be about work or something where you are providing help for other people. You do it simply because you think it's necessary, you just want to help without thinking too much about it, without expectation for something, maybe you've been providing something for free or for too often. But this kind of behaviour can lead others to the assumption that you're naive, easy to take advantage of, or on the opposite side, that you have hidden motives and try to please people. Simple acts can be interpreted as something more complicated. I think this will be a learning process for you, to think more carefully before jumping in to help. I'm not saying that you should be more calculative or stop helping people altogether, but be more clear in your intention with them.

Some people could get used to your help and expect more and more. It could gradually become a burden for you. Setting clear boundaries is important. When you feel that your time and energy aren't appreciated, make a clear decision to stop and try to untangle yourself from people's expectations. Also, setting priorities, some of your actions have actually hindered your progress.

I also see some kind of hidden rivalry, maybe on the surface, things seem pretty friendly, but there might be talks behind your back, passive-aggressive words, actions that won't reveal their true intentions. Don't jump into conclusion too hastily, but if there is something amiss and you can sense it, don't hesitate to make a clear-cut decision to stop this kind of behaviour. Maybe remove yourself from that situation. If it's hard to do so, detach yourself and avoid engaging further.

You are excited to start something new, to execute a plan, a vision. The plan is based on your past experiences. You remember how things were good in the past and eager to start them again or to dive back in. The actions here are based on an idealistic view of the situation. This situation might have already happened in the past once or many times before, but you somehow have forgotten some of its effects or consequences. It's like you didn't remember the event in its entirely, some parts were blotted out. This could make the situation right now seem a lot more positive than it actually is. Or maybe you remembered the past, but you're optimistic about the future, you might believe that this time, it will be different.

There's a feeling of haste. Everything is just in a preparation state, but you want to act quickly, decisively. The fruits haven't been ripe yet, but you want to harvest them already. So the advice is to wait more, observe more, plan more, try to see the situation in different angle, if you want to act, at least do so in small steps, avoid taking grand actions. Being told to wait while having inspiration can be frustrating, but there's something hidden, an information, a help, an opportunity, awaiting you if you're willing to slow down a little to listen.

The energy of this group is really about enjoying themselves, enjoying life in general. The message for this group might be really short because it seems that you will soon receive the reward for your effort. Just keep doing what you're doing, the tree will grow if you keep nurturing it, the scarf will get longer if you keep knitting.

You might want to relax more, to have more fun, and be confident in your ability to make things real. Emotions might be heightened more in this period. If you've been planning to try something new, now is a good time to do that, you are infused with more confidence and spontaneity to try out things that you didn't think you would be able to do. Just be a little mindful of your spending, a high spirit could likely make some impulsive purchases that you would regret later on.

This message is just for a specific group of people, but if you are in a triangle relationship or there is a third party involved, you might want to reconsider your choice and put your peace of mind at the top priority. If the situation generates too much dramas and the indecisiveness from the people involved is not resolved then be ready to let go and walk away, I do see another opportunity for you in the future.

[rainerioun]

𝖸𝖤𝖲, 𝖭𝖮, 𝖮𝖱 𝖬𝖠𝖸𝖡𝖤? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hello! Today's reading is quick and straightforward: ask any question, and you'll receive a yes, no, or maybe, along with an explanation. Have a great day or night!

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST. | KO-FI.

PILE ONE

Yes, No, or Maybe? Six of Wands, Five of Cups [Reversed], Six of Cups. The Bridge — When Light: Acceptance, Magic, Communication.

The answer is yes. You have everything you need to move forward. Gather the pieces you thought were lost and put them back together. It's time to cross the bridge and leave sorrow behind. Something from your past may come to aid you, so stay alert. Your hard work will pay off—will you take it? This pile represents the acceptance of saying yes rather than the comfort of saying no.

PILE TWO

Yes, No, or Maybe? The High Priestess [Reversed], The Sun, Page of Pentacles. The Siren — When Light: Awakened Sensuality, Absorption, Arousal.

This pile is a maybe. If you were hoping for a yes, it might come in an unexpected form, or something different could unfold that brings you a result even better. Just because you want something doesn’t mean you need it—desire can be deceptive. This pile hints at themes of money, contentment, and ambition. If you stay consistent and genuinely work toward your goal, a new opportunity will present itself, but you may need reconsider your approach first.

PILE THREE

Yes, No, or Maybe? Eight of Swords [Reversed], The Sun, Seven of Cups [Reversed]. Thanatos — Death : Grieving, Mourning, Bearing Witness To All That Is.

This is a definite no. For most of you, the straightforward answer was all you needed. For others, you should know the truth will become clear once you let go of overly wishful thinking without falling into hopelessness. Whether or not you see yourself as a victim, you are a survivor. You have to keep pushing, even when falling into old patterns. You'll be okay, just give yourself time. <3

[ I couldn't stop thinking of : You're Beautiful by James Blunt. ]

PILE FOUR

Yes, No, or Maybe? Three of Pentacles [Reversed], Two of Pentacles, Nine of Cups [Reversed]. The Unseen — When Light: Clairvoyant, Guidance, Whispers of Wisdom.  The Warrior — When Light: Fierce Clarity, Purposeful Action, Resolve, Resilient.

This is honestly up to you. The outcome can change based on your actions—it's not set in stone, so the answer is a maybe. While you're feeling stagnant, take the time to question the situation and turn the stalemate into balance rather than letting it lead to boredom. Adapt, but be realistic with your expectations. This is about trusting yourself more than relying on outside guidance; you need to make the decision, or it will never get done.

[rainee-da]

Hello <3

Is it ok to request the "What they said when you're sleeping" but with the Divine Visionaries? Tysm!

🍀 The Talk When You Sleep [2]

CHARACTER ❥ Orter Mádl ⏳ / Sophina Biblia 📕 / Tsurara Halestone ❄️

W A R N I N G ⚠️ R13 for general fluff w/ slight angst as spice / Relationship HCS / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be a bit too OOC for you.

O R T E R M Á D L ⏳

he opened the door to your bedroom and sighed loudly "Seriously? We're supposed to be at the office at 9 o'clock, and you're still sleeping in your bed? Your laziness is absolutely revolt-" he shook his head in annoyance and marched closer, but stopped abruptly as his hand hovers in the air "That eyebags... you must be staying up late again," he sighed and sit at the edge of your bed, thinking for a while "There's no urgency... I suppose it's fine to let you be for some more," his face is annoyed as he loosened the tie in his neck he looked up the window, his expression remained unchanged "Yesterday was quite frivolous, I didn't remember there was anything in particular happening... what made you stay up late?" he mumbled as he turned his head to watch your face "Are you overthinking again? Or is there something that I missed?" he frowned as he is thinking to himself, before sighing again "No matter... we'll just sleep together later at night so I can fix your sleep habit, should've done so for a long time anyway." he brushes your hair to the side with his finger, his frown softens slightly "Your expression is good, and your temperature is normal. At least you're not sick physically," his hand moves to stroke your cheek as he enjoys the silence for a while, his expression grows solemn as the deep thought overwhelms his mind "Every time I see you as innocent as this, I always wonder... Why do you want to be with someone like me?" his finger rubs your eyelids gently "I rarely said this to you, and I know I should, but... You're a smart person. You're strong, able to defend yourself when danger strikes. You also had good friends that cherish you," he tilted his head as he got immersed by your face "You're... a beauty, so beautiful that it made me wonder how many people felt envious when we made us official... And, most important of all," he paused as the word got caught up in his throat, he blinks rapidly to clear some of his senses "You're so altruistic, so kind... unlike me." he chuckled lowly "I don't even know how many people have died by my wands, for the sake of order," he sighed as he turned his eyes away to stare at the view outside the window "Order is made for a reason. I believe that as long as the order is properly maintained, there will be no more Alex in the world. No people would get hurt anymore... But," he paused "The whole incident with Innocent Zero made me reconsider those beliefs... But, if my actions all this time were wrong, " he paused, his face darkened "Wouldn't that make me.. a. criminal?" he sighed, rubbing his face wearily "No use thinking about that now. It only brings unnecessary questions that will hinder my rationality," his gaze shifted to you and his mouth formed into a thin smile "It's a new dawn, and the citizen will need to get used to the new order. A riot would be inevitable, and bringing the previous sense of normalcy would be a grueling task ahead for the Divine Visionaries. But," he leans in and gives your lips a chaste kiss "With you, I believe I'll do well—maybe even better than before." "𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

S O P H I N A B I B L I A 📕

"Oh my, the way you sleep is so vulgar! This won't do," she hurriedly move to fix your sleeping position and remove her coat to put it over you "There, all better," she smiles in satisfaction as she move your head to put it over her lap "You really had no grace, sleeping during work hours like this... you're lucky I'm more pliable than Mr. Madl." she sighed and shake her head as she opened the book in her hand to starts reading "Well, I'm only this pliable towards you if I'm being honest. If Mr. Revol's the one who's doing this, I would've already cursed him so he would dance bare-naked in the courtyard," she coughed softly and hums to stop herself from laughing "That's... such a tasteless threats coming from me, I can't believe I just said that." she tried to focus on reading but her mind is wandering "Let's see... Didn't you promises me that you would never napped at work anymore? So I think a punisment should be in order, no?" the thoughts in her head brings subtle-yet mischievous smile in her stoic face "What if, you have to cook dinner for a week? Or maybe I'll make you read one of my books? That's not really a punishment though," she tapped her chin as she's thinking "Or, I could also punish you," she leaned closer and blow into your ear "Like this? Fufu, you're so cute when you're wincing like that." she sighed and close the book to put it on the side, and her hand moves to brush your hair gently "You bring out sides of me that I never thought I have..." a soft smile formed on her face "For example... I never thought that feeling your hair against my fingertips like this could be so addicting," she lightly pinched the tip of your nose, and giggles at your reaction "Or that teasing you would be so much fun? Your reaction is so lively, it's never boring to be around you," she sighed and close her eyes as she lost in her own thoughts "Being with you has become one of my hobbies... Fresh scent of new book will never compare to the scent of your fragnance, and reading become a chores if you're not by my side," she smiles dreamily, slowly getting sleepy "Your influence is kaleidoscope of color in my life, I never thought that something as abstract as you would be so enjoyable... Really, I would trade everything in the world, if it means we could always be together like this," her hand lied in your chest as she slowly dozed off "𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 '𝙤𝙪𝙧' 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮, 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧"

T S U R A R A H A L E S T O N E ❄️

"Brrrr…. oh, you're asleep?" she lowered her hand from her mouth, her body shakes slightly "I guess you've been waiting for long… I'm sorry," she walked towards you, her face expresses remorse "I should woke you up, don't I? But… brrrr…. let me use your body to warm up first… You don't mind, right?" she lied beside your sleeping figure, and snuggle closer to your side "Hehe… your body is so warm," she smiles dreamily as she hugs your body "I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish my work… I was getting in the zone with my research, and finally made some progress… But then," her gloved hand move towards your neck to rub it gently "The heater suddenly broke down… I have to waited for the mechanic to arrive, and I didn't realize that it was already this late" she sighed and closed her eyes, looking exhausted "I should've told you to go home early... I'm sorry that you have to wait for me." her body shakes again, and she lay her head on your chest "Brrrr... Why is it so cold," she lost in her own thought as she listen to your heartbeat, a soft smile formed in her face "Your heartbeat is steady, that's good... I always used your body as my warmer, and I know you said that you didn't mind that one bit... " she blushes and shyly buried her face to your neck "... But I hope you're not forcing yourself... My magic made my body cold, I didn't want you to get sick because of me." she stumbles as she risen up, her smile is warm and her hand is stroking your cheek "I think soon enough I can make some potion that will help keep my body warm temporarily! Tomorrow I'll show it to you! I don't know how long the effects would last... But," she leans in to kiss your cheek, accidentally biting her inner cheek out of nervousness "Ouch! Eh, what I'm saying is, with those potions we, hopefully, can starts hanging out outside! Do some dinner date, movie night at cinema, stuff that I know you want to do but you never asked out of consideration for me. " she hums happily as she snuggle closer to your cheek "You're warm," her eyes is full of adoration as she stares at your sleeping face "I love that the most about you... You're such a warm person. You're patient with me, even though sometimes my magic combined with my clumsiness causes you trouble. But you're always being so kind with me... It made me so happy," she turns to look at the clock "Ah, It's already this late! I should wake you up now." "𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩."

Long time no see! I've been busy with my irl stuff and just finally got the time to write again. I kinda projecting on some of the characters lol I hope you don't mind... I originally planned to write for all of them, but I decided to split it into different parts since when I'm writing this I have a severe case of writer's block lolol. I promises that the rest of them will be uploaded in due time!

I've made similar prompt before w/ Devil's Quintuplet+Cell War so check it out! And I tried to make it as less OOC as I possibly could, but I don't know if it will suits your interpretation. I hope you like it all the same though! Thank you anon for your request 🍀 and thank you for reading!

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

reader comforting sad ethan?? like could be something his dad was suggesting/saying and ethans really frustrated. had prob been avoiding girlfriend! reader for a bit bc of the whole plan thing. hes prob reconsidering it all bc its been the happiest hes been in his LIFE and he feels like a shitty bf for the shit abt to happen. but he obviously cant talk abt it so he tries to shut her out, which doesnt work clearly. its up to you if you wanna include smut (tbh dont see dom! ethan existing here) but definitely just angst to fluff! this boy needs a hug ):

Okay, hi! I was about to go to bed when I got this request, and just HAD to write it. No smut, I thought it was better without it. I hope you like it:)

Everything We Need - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is feeling guilty about being Ghostface, and wants to do whatever he can to protect you.

A/N: I LOVE THIS. There's just something about sad Ethan that makes me love him even more🥹

When Ethan met up with Quinn and his dad, he felt sick to his stomach. The plan that had been in the works for a year was coming to fruition, as two wannabe Ghostface’s had met their demise. He really wanted to back out. For the first time in his life, he had someone in his life that made him want to get up every day, and that’s been weighing heavy on his mind.

“Ethan, are you listening?” Wayne asked, Quinn rolling her eyes.

“He’s probably thinking about his girlfriend,” she scoffed, as Wayne’s face got even more serious.

“You need to keep your head in this. Don’t you let some little bitch keep you from doing what we’re all here to do,” he said, scanning his sons face. “Richie would never let me down.”

His dad always used that against Ethan. Richie and his dad were so close, while Ethan didn’t get the whole father-son bonding experience he craved. That’s why he agreed to go along with this plan in the first place. He wanted his fathers love so badly that he was willing to kill for it.

“I know, dad. I won’t let you down,” he said, as Wayne started to discuss the plan further.

“Wait, does Ethan’s little girlfriend have to die, too?” Quinn asked, as a lump formed in Ethan’s throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Quinn!” Ethan yelled, as his dad stood there, thinking about the best way to respond.

“She might. I don’t know yet. You might want to distance yourself from her. If she finds out, she will have to die,” Wayne said, as Ethan’s eyes started to water. A single tear slipped down his cheek, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

“Ethan, I don’t think I can count on you for this. Your head is obviously somewhere else, as usual,” he said, shaking his head. “Why can’t you be strong like Richie was?”

The rest of their meeting consisted of Ethan getting berated by Quinn and his father. He knew he needed to keep you safe, so he decided that maybe he should put a little distance between the two of you. He felt like shit that your friends were on the literal chopping block, and he knew how badly this would hurt you if you ever found out he was a part of it.

He ignored every text you’d sent him for the last few days. He declined every FaceTime. You were really starting to worry about him. Aside from the worrying, your heart hurt, because you’d just taken his virginity before he stopped talking to you. You couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with why he pretty much ghosted you.

As you were on your way to Sam and Tara’s, you sent Ethan another text asking if he was going to be there. You hoped for a reply, but you never got one.

You sat around the living room with Anika, Mindy, Tara, and Quinn when Chad walked in. You waited for Ethan to walk in, but he never did.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Chad said, taking a seat next to Tara.

“Where’s Ethan?” Tara asked, knowing you wanted the answer.

“Oh, he was going to come, but he decided last minute to stay at the dorm,” Chad said, before looking over to you, “He didn’t tell you he wasn’t coming?”

“No,” you whispered, as Quinn rolled her eyes. She couldn’t stand you and hoped that Ethan wouldn’t have taken their dad’s advice. She wanted nothing more than to make you one of her victims.

“That’s really weird,” Mindy said, a confused look on her face. “Maybe you should go check on him.”

“He ignores me every time I try to contact him,” you said, “I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“That’s definitely weird because he won’t shut up about how much he misses you.”

You were so confused, but you tried to ignore the urge to go see him. Maybe he was just going through something and needed space, but you still thought it was strange that he didn’t tell you what was going on with him.

As everyone got ready to leave, you pulled Chad to the side.

“Is Ethan okay?” you asked, as Chad shook his head.

“He’s always talking about you, but he isn’t sleeping. He’s barely eating. I don’t know what’s going on with him,” he responded, a little bummed that his friend wasn’t doing well.

“I think I’m going to go see him,” you sighed, pulling your jacket on.

“I’ll be there soon, I want to hang out with Tara for a little bit,” he said.

You nodded as you grabbed your phone and started the walk to his dorm. When you got there, you knocked on the door, hoping that he was home.

Your mouth dropped when you saw his face as he opened the door. His eyes were sunken in, he was very pale. He looked like a shell of his former self.

“Baby, what’s going on?” you asked as he gestured you in.

He sat down on his bed beside you but didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to put you in danger.

“Please talk to me,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

Hot, fat tears started to flow down his cheeks. You pulled him close to you as he sobbed into your chest.

“I don’t know why you want to be with me. I’m worthless,” he cried, your heart shattering at his words.

“Baby, why do you think that? You aren’t worthless,” you said, a few tears slipping past your bottom lashes.

“I’m nothing. I’m weak. I don’t deserve you,” he was choking out his words between sobs as your fingers ran through his hair.

“Ethan, I love you. I love you with all my heart. I don’t want you to talk about yourself like that. You’re perfect the way you are,” you whispered to him as you kissed his forehead.

“No, I’m not. My dad always compares me to my brother. He’s always been the golden child while I’ve been the black sheep of the family,” he said, your nails gently dragging across his scalp as you tried to soothe him. He’s never mentioned his family, and it really pissed you off that anyone could make this sweet boy feel this way.

“You’re always golden to me, baby. You mean so much to me, and it breaks my heart that you feel this way.”

In that moment, everything clicked in Ethan’s head. He knew he didn’t need his dad because he has you. Someone that loves him unconditionally.

“What if we just leave?” he asked, sitting up to look at you.

“Why do you want to leave?” you asked, taking his hand in yours.

“It isn’t safe here. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, his eyes pleading with yours.

You started to think about it. All classes have been cancelled for the last week. Most of the students have already returned home because of what happened to the guys from the Film Studies class.

“Where do you want to go?” you asked, smiling at him.

“I don’t care. I want to get as far away as possible,” he said, standing up. “I’ll grab what I’ll need, and we’ll go to your dorm next.”

You helped him grab the necessities, noticing things you knew he’d need that he didn’t seem to care about in his current state. He grabbed stacks of clothes, piling them in his suitcase.

“Can you sit on this for me so I can zip it?” he asked, as you giggled. You did what he asked as he sighed in relief, ready to get your stuff so you could get the fuck out of the state.

You walked out of the dorm and went around the back of it.

“Wait here,” Ethan said, running over to the dumpster. He pulled the robe, mask, and knife out of his backpack, throwing it away.

He was smiling when he came back over to you, looking like the normal Ethan you fell in love with. He picked you up and spun you around, before kissing you.

“I love you,” he said, as he sat you back down and his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you, too.”

Once you arrived at your dorm, you grabbed everything you needed in a matter of minutes. Ethan was deep in thought as he sat on your bed.

“You having second thoughts about this?” you joked, as he shook his head.

“No, there’s nothing more that I want than to get away from here with you,” he said, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Can we take your car?”

“I was kind of hoping that was the plan,” you laughed, as you double-checked the room to make sure you weren’t missing anything. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your hand was in his as you walked through the student parking lot to your car. Once you made it there, Ethan asked you to get in so he could put the luggage in the trunk. You thought about how Chad mentioned that Ethan hadn’t slept in days, so you decided that it’d be best if you drove.

He started to feel uneasy, so he felt around under the bumper of your car.

“That stupid bitch,” he muttered, pulling off the tracking device Quinn must’ve put on your car.

“Okay, we’re ready. I just need to run by the ATM before we leave,” he said, as you looked at him, confused.

“Uh, my dad has experience with finding people, and I don’t want him to see my card transactions wherever we end up going,” he explained, as you nodded.

You pulled up to the ATM as he handed you his card and told you the pin.

“How much?” you asked, entering the pin on the pad.

“Let’s get two thousand for now,” he said, as you turned to look at him.

“How much money do you have in here?” you asked, your eyes wide. It’s not everyday a college kid pulls two grand out of their bank account.

“I have a lot. When my mom died, she left a lot of money to me,” he said, as you rubbed your hand against his thigh.

“I didn’t know that babe. I’m sorry,” you said, withdrawing the money and handing it to him.

As the two of you crossed state lines, he finally stopped looking behind him. You felt a little nervous that he was so concerned, almost like he thought you were being followed. The further you drove, the more exhausted you started to get.

“We might need to stop soon,” you said, Ethan’s tired eyes looking you over.

“Okay, let’s take the next exit. We can get a hotel room for the night,” he said, as you nodded, a yawn slipping out.

Once you got to the room, he crawled onto the bed. You helped him take his shoes off before you snuggled up beside him.

“Thank you,” he said, as he laid his head on your chest.

“For what?” you asked, starting to relax in the bed.

“For loving me as much as you do.”

[cobrakaisb]

no strings attached

summary: it always starts with not strings attached, but feelings turn into secrets turn into drunk calls turn into full blown confessions 

warnings: mentions of a sexual relationship (no actual smut though), alcohol usage, partying, ANGST 

word count: 2.05k

it was never supposed to be this way. no strings attached. that’s what mark said the first time you woke up in his bed. it was after a long, and fun, night of partying. one of the hockey team’s big wins before making it to the final four in boston. they beat minnesota maybe, or was it quinnipiac? you couldn’t remember, but you remember mark. 

he was always there. maybe you always thought there was something brewing, but for him, it was just a friendship. then they won. and someone was smoking this, and another person was drinking that, and you and mark got caught up in it all. his hands were all over you, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you down onto his lap. yours knotting in his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands. whispering, trying to convince the other to leave, chapped lips brushing against your ear. until it finally worked and he had you wrapped in his jacket, leading you back to his dorm. 

everyone knew. and ethan, god bless ethan, because he never said a word. the first time it wasn’t a big deal. he woke up to find you and mark tangled together, a mess of limbs and sheets. then it happened a couple days later. and again when the boys lost in the frozen four. and it just kept happening. but nobody knew, except you, mark, and his pesky roommate ethan. 

it was never supposed to be like this. yet you found yourself in michigan for the summer, spending a week at mark’s house. his mom smiling and chatting with you at the kitchen counter, skimming through photo albums and telling embarrassing stories. she asked what you were, and you tried to answer, really, but even you didn’t know. friends? lovers? dating? a hook up? there was no real label. everything was convoluted, covered in a haze. 

maybe it was the trip at his house that made you reconsider your feelings for him. seeing him interact with his mom, watching as he helped around the house. listening in as he played with his younger cousins, granting their every wish. how he kept his arm around the back of your chair, always. he leant you a hat, or two, offered up sweatshirts for you to wear at night when it was too cold for short sleeves but not cold enough to want to be inside. when he took you to that small little breakfast joint, laughing and teasing as you drove down the street. 

as the summer went on, it seemed like more and more strings were getting attached. you met his family, and he met yours. your mom asked about him once he left. your friends kept poking and prodding, saying that he was cute and you should go for it. then sophomore year came and he was getting a house, moving out of the dorms and in with some of the guys. 

now you didn’t have to worry about ethan sleeping in the bed directly across from you; there was a wall separating you. there were two floors. it was easy to sneak away unnoticed and unheard. that’s what you told yourself at least. 

it was easy. you were fine. there were no strings attached. but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

you don’t remember when the final straw was. maybe it was when he got that five minute major. or was it when he was given a game misconduct? either way, he called you after both, and for the first time throughout this whole shabang, you didn't want to be just a call. as much as you tried to avoid it, your strings were attached. they were so heavily intertwined that it was like a failed friendship bracelet, a knotted, tangled mess of strings. you had to tell him, so you came clean. 

“i don’t want you to hate me,” you started, sitting criss-cross applesauce on their porch. “i could never hate you,” mark assured, leaning back on his forearms, he was getting too comfortable. you were getting too comfortable. “i caught feelings, mark,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. he was silent for a long time. “who is it?” mark asked. 

his question has you reeling. how was it not obvious that it was him? your whole world revolves around him. “what?” you whispered softly, still feeling confused. “who is this guy that’s gonna break this great thing we have? who’s the one getting in between us?” mark snapped. the way he talked about your relationship made you nervous. his strings weren’t attached, that much was obvious. 

“his name is mark estapa. he’s a defenseman for the michigan hockey team. know him?” you replied, already getting up from your seat. mark stayed there, mouth wide open. “but we said…” he started to say. “i know what we said! i get it okay! you don’t want this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you, “in the same way that i do.” he was still silent. “believe me, i know. and i also know that i can’t keep doing this. not how it is right now at least,” you trialed off, hoping he would want you too. 

“i’m not…i was very clear y/n…fuck i don’t want,” he said, hands playing with the backwards hat on his head. you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding while simultaneously blinking back your tears. “right. i’ll see you around mark,” you answered, turning and leaving before he got the chance to break your heart anymore. 

someone must have grabbed the scissors and cut apart the ball of string because there was no way you were coming back from this. 

yet somehow, mark didn’t seem to get the message. he kept calling and calling and calling. and when you declined he’d start texting and texting and texting. finally, you just had to block his number. it was too much for you, the bitter taste of rejection and the tears of regret arising whenever his name flashed across your screen. at one point, he tried talking to you, but your friends helped you hide in the bathroom, quickly shutting that down. 

so, what started as a casual relationship ended with you, alone and bitter. in all fairness, mark warned you. he was upfront from the beginning, so you really had no one to blame but yourself. he told you that there would be no strings attached, just makeouts and hookups, but of course you couldn’t follow those simple instructions.

then, you made your own code of conduct. one that consisted of ignoring him. it didn’t last long though. nothing regarding mark ever seemed to last long. especially when you were drinking. that’s when it was worse. all the feelings would come up and your usually bubbly persona went down the drain. once you had a solid buzz going, thoughts of mark would infiltrate your brain, reminding you of your lonely status. until saint patrick’s day weekend. 

obviously there were darties and parties and everything in between. so it wasn’t a surprise that when michigan won, the partying was only amplified. in your inebriated state, calling mark was the best option. to say congratulations. that was it. that’s what you kept telling yourself as you unblocked his contact and hit the green call button. 

you waited and waited and waited. voicemail. but you were persistent, so you kept calling. again and again and again, you dialed his number. foot tapping on the sticky, alcohol covered, floor as you held your phone to your ear. the cool screen sticking to your flushed skin. after ten calls, he kept count not you, he answered. 

“y/n?” he asked, hesitancy clearly in his voice. “mark! i saw the game! you won, so i had to…i had to call. you deserved a call,” you mumbled, words escaping your mouth faster than you could comprehend. “oh yeah. thanks,” he answered. 

the effort was minimal, you could feel it through the phone. he didn’t want you to call. he didn’t want you then and he still doesn’t want you know. your sobbing before you can hang up, before you can shake yourself and get a grip. 

“y/n? why are you crying? what’s wrong baby?” he said. if you weren’t crying, if you weren’t drunk, if you were able to comprehend, your heart would’ve skipped a beat. “i’m drunk. I’m drunk and my first thought is always you. it’s always you mark. and i want you so bad, but you never wanted me. no strings attached,” you explained, taking a long sip from your cup. “y/n…” he started, but you wouldn’t let him. he hurt you enough. “don’t pity me mark. i don’t…i don’t want a guy to be with me out of pity,” you said. you heard him take a breath, but before he could answer, you hung up the phone. 

it shouldn’t have surprised you when mark arrived at your dorm the next day. but it did. he stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “hi. can we talk?” he whispered. you hesitated, feeling nervous. your plans were sweaty and you felt like there was a frog in your throat. all you could muster was a nod as you grabbed your keys and followed him outside. the walk was silent, deadly silent. the kind of silence that exists between two people who don’t know what to say, how to say it, or when to say it. the type of silence that shouldn’t exist between you and mark. 

“so you called me last night,” he blurted out. “i did,” you replied, interested in your scuffed up converse. “you did. do you remember what you said?” he asked. you shut your eyes, embarrassment washing over you like a wave at the beach. “if i said i didn’t would we just move past it?” you tried to joke, but mark didn’t laugh.

“no. i would remind you,” he answered, face serious. you stopped walking, turning to face him. “why? why do you do this?” you demanded, poking at his chest. “me! you’re the one that left and then refused to let me speak! you blocked my number and flat out ignored me for weeks. then you call me last night, and tell me that all you do is think about me,” you opened your mouth to interject but he doesn’t let you. “let me finish. god y/n just let me fucking speak because if you let me talk, you’d know that i’ve always loved you. and i still do! even though you ignore me and basically cut me out of your life, i still love you. i want you just as much now as i did last week, and two months ago, and this summer, and even last year.” 

you're crying; tears streaming down your face as you listen to him rant. “why didn’t you say it sooner?” you croaked out. mark swallows, looking at you with utmost regret in his eyes, “because we said no strings attached.” you laughed. you were crying but now you’re laughing because how did you two agree to this? why did you agree? you think back to your freshman year and wonder what possessed you to say no strings attached. you wanted them to be attached, every single one. your strings and mark’s strings woven together into a tightly knit friendship bracelet, or maybe a keychain, or anything that involved the two of you being together. 

it was silent between the two of you. both of you just standing there, waiting for the other to make a move. finally, mark had the courage to do so. “i think we should let our strings attached . maybe they could get jumbled up in a giant knot, and we wouldn’t be able to untie it, because i,” he paused to take a deep breath, “i don’t think i could live my life without you.” 

“mark?” “yeah?” “let me kiss you.” his laugh echoed through the quad. his smile overtook his face, scrunching up his eyes and cheeks. his eyes brightened. his hands reached out for you, pulling you into him. his lips met yours. 

your strings were pretty much attached.

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 6

table of contents i love you still

You’re no stranger to Jamie’s internet presence, extensive as it is. But even though you know what comes up when you type jamie tartt babies you still think it should have come with a warning. 

There’s picture after picture of him meeting toddlers, holding babies, signing tiny footballs and just generally being great with kids. 

It’s complete shit. 

He looks so natural with all of them, making them laugh as he smiles for the camera.

You’re tired. You should be asleep so you can be rested for the next day but you just can’t. You move from the chair in Clare’s room to your room, where you push open the doors to the balcony. You prop her monitor up on a chair just in case and take a deep breath. You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that, and the stakes are higher now. But the more you think about it, the more you convince yourself it could work if only you could absolutely trust that Jamie wouldn’t leave again.

“Damn it,” you whisper. You’ve already let him back in.

You sit and watch the mist roll in for another hour before doing your best to fall asleep.

Clare wakes up just before seven so you’re out the door for coffee by 8:30. You’re rushing for no particular reason, but everything feels urgent now. You walk to get coffee for you and Madeline, still feeling the need to look over your shoulder. You can’t shake the idea that someone’s looking at you until you spot a man across the way, staring. 

It takes you all of two seconds to recognize Roy Kent. 

You smile, nod, and turn away but the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. He knows, a voice whispers, but there’s no way he does because no one knows. No one knows except Madeline and Jamie and your parents who live all the way in Spain because they can, so there’s no way Roy Kent also knows that the baby you’ve wrapped to your chest is actually a mini Tartt, despite the fact that she does not have his last name. Just his whole face structure, apparently.

The walk to Madeline’s feels slower than normal but you finally let yourself into her flat and onto her couch.

She’s scrolling on her phone while a woman does her hair and another does her makeup.

“Madeline,” you say, no preamble, “I need you to tell me I’m an absolute idiot.”

“No,” she says without looking up from her phone. “I’m not psychic. Do something stupid and then I’ll reconsider but everyone knows you’re the one with the braincells in this relationship.”

“Madeline,” you plead, and she finally looks up.

“Babe. We both know you’ve already taken him back in your head. And we’ve never spoken about it because I was giving you your space to come to terms with the fact that you’re fucking hung up on him and most likely will be until the end of time. I can’t entirely blame you because he can be amazing. But when he’s shit, he’s shit. It’s just a matter of time before you’re back together and if he knows what’s good for him, he won’t fuck up this time, but...” she trails off.

“But he doesn’t always know what’s good for him,” you finish. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

Madeline shrugs. “Maybe.”

“The fuck do you mean, ‘maybe’?”

“Hold still,” whispers the makeup artist so there’s a moment of silence before Madeline says, “It’s entirely within the realm of possibilities that he is turning himself around from grimy little footballer to respectable athlete. Don’t you think it’s at least worth noticing that his ex-girlfriend vouches for him?”

“Mads, what the fuck,” you groan. “You’re supposed to tell me to date a rapper. Or move to Milan. Or marry a millionaire. Not say that there’s a chance this will work.”

Clare fusses in your arms so you stand up and start swaying her back and forth. “Bean, give me your thoughts on this look,” Madeline says, so you walk over and hold Clare up. She sneezes, and you laugh.

“That means she likes it,” Madeline says. “Look, Bean is so little she won’t even remember if her dad leaves again. Then at least you’ll know, you know what I mean? You’re going to give him a chance anyway, so might as well do it while she’s small and has no sense of object permanence.”

You laugh with a bit of resignation. Madeline’s right, as per usual. “I promise I won’t be overbearing when he leaves.”

Madeline grins. “You can be as overbearing as you like as long as you keep bringing me coffee. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Funny,” you reply, “I was going to say the exact same about you.”

Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. “I’m a fucking saint,” she says. “Hey, are you staying for the interview? Bean can nap upstairs if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, she’s been waking up crying and you don’t need that in the background. I think we’ll walk around for a bit, the fresh air’s good for her and I really want some tea.”

Madeline says, “I have tea,” and you amend, “I’m going to want tea that I don’t have to make.”

Madeline snorts, and the two of you lapse into silence. You’re quiet for the rest of the time it takes for her to finish getting ready (twenty minutes), help her choose which outfit (the dark grey one), and then pass her Clare for some photos before heading out the door. The day feels less ominous after seeing her, so you head home to get Clare’s pram in hopes she’ll fall asleep.

You almost don’t want to go out again by the time you’ve changed and fed her, eaten lunch, and re-bundled the both of you up but Clare seems like she’s not going to sleep without a fight, so you sigh and head out the door again.

You head to the Richmond green, thankful that the sun is shining despite the brisk air. Clare’s passed out after one lap so you look for a bench in the sun. You sit and watch as people jog by and kids kick a ball around.  It’s a nice day. Maybe you’ll call Madeline and see if she wants to come over for dinner once she’s done working.

No, she has a dinner with some of her collaborators. You’re on your own tonight, unless you call Jamie. Your nose wrinkles involuntarily at the thought. He might not even want that, so you’ll let it alone.

A man walks along the path with a little blonde-haired girl. No- it’s Roy Kent. You didn’t know he had a daughter but then again, he certainly wouldn’t be the first in that situation. 

She clearly likes him by the way she’s bouncing up and down as she pulls on his arm. It seems despite his reputation as Chelsea’s hard man he has a soft spot for whoever this child is. You duck your head as if he’ll recognize you, even though you know he won’t.

“Uncle Roy, when are we going to Keeley’s?” you here the girl say as they get closer and you file that away. So it’s Uncle Roy, then. You miss his answer as Clare fusses so you gently push her pram back and forth and murmur, “Go back to sleep, Bean.”

Roy and the girl’s footsteps stop. Right in front of you.

Roy looks into the pram and then at you. You have no choice but to meet his gaze and fuck, he definitely knows. But how the actual fuck did he find out?

“Nice baby,” he finally says and you don’t reply.

“I’m Phoebe,” says Phoebe, in an apparent attempt to dispel the tension. She’s a smart kid, you can tell, and the last thing you need is some random child blabbing your business all around London.

You say, “I think your Uncle Roy already knows who I am,” you say, and Roy doesn’t even look a little fucking guilty.

Of course he knows, Keeley had all but put together a Powerpoint presentation by the morning.

“Your friend knows my girlfriend,” he says, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Keeley fucking Jones has struck again. She always was a bit too nosy for your taste.

You frown, sigh, and say, “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Roy sits on the far end of the bench with Phoebe in the middle. You’re both watching each other carefully, as though one of you could snap at any moment.

“What do you want?” you ask, voice sharp. “It can’t be money, I can’t imagine you’re hard up. Are you misguided enough to ask me to disappear before I ruin your golden boy’s career? Because believe me, I’m not trying to start anything. He’s the one who came looking for me, for your information.”

You don’t stop rocking Clare’s pram. It’s a calming motion for both you and for her because unfortunately, there’s no easy escape route here. 

Roy asks, “You worried he’s going to end up like his fucking dick of a father?” and Phoebe (who has been pretending like she isn’t listening) scribbles furiously in her notebook.

That is not even close to what you expected him to say. You just look at him, eyes wide. “I-” you start, then stop. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You’re no stranger to James Tartt. Jamie had come home more times than you’d care to count with a bruised eye or a split lip, and it wasn’t until the third time you were putting ice on his face that he finally told you why. 

“Jamie isn’t like that,” you tell Roy. He has to know Jamie isn’t like that. He works with him. He has to.

“How the fuck do you know?” Roy asks, but it’s more bemused than anything. 

“He’s never done anything even close to what James has done,” you say, and it’s true. It’s not even a stretch of the imagination, Jamie never raised his voice or his hand at you.

It didn’t stop him from breaking your heart, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Roy shrugs. “You never fucking know, do you? Who’s to say it’s not fucking genetics or some shit?”

That pisses you the fuck off. Jamie’s no saint, but you believe that deep down he’s good. You believe he wants to be good.

So you smile, look Roy directly in the eyes over Phoebe’s head, and say as cold as you can, “Fuck you. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stand. “We’re leaving.”

Roy says, “Oi,” but it’s softer than the horrible things he’s been insinuating about Jamie so you turn back to him. 

“He’s not fucking horrible,” Roy says quietly, and almost as though it pains him to get the words out. “He’s a right little shit, but the prick’s had a rough fucking time of it lately. Go fucking easy on him, because no one else fucking does.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not fucking saying he doesn’t fucking deserve it, but I am fucking saying he’s not a world-class prick and if you fucking were going to give him a fucking chance, it’s not the fucking stupidest thing I’ve fucking seen.” 

Roy seems as though he’s hit his limit for both speech and sentimentality, and you’re no stranger to his rivalry (hatred?) with Jamie so you take his words for what they are. 

You nod. “Don’t tell him you saw me,” you say and Roy almost smiles. 

“Fucking don’t like to fucking talk to Tartt more than I fucking have to,” he replies. You smile back at him and as you leave he says, “She really fucking looks like him,” and you nod. 

Fuck.

next chapter

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 30 - Dance

Content includes: Crowley x reader, reader is a teacher at NRC, reader is described as a wallflower, Crowley has (very obvious) feelings for the reader, reader’s feelings are left somewhat ambiguous, Crowley as a general warning

It’s officially that time of year again: NRC’s annual dance. Every year since the school’s conception, a dance has been held for both students and outsiders alike. Any and all are welcome to attend.

As a teacher, you’re required to attend as a chaperone. Dances, and parties in general, are not particularly your scene, but this one is fun. You’ve been teaching for a few years now, and you always have a good time at this event.

And, of course, a good time for you is awkwardly standing against the wall as you watch over the students.

This is what you do every year, and you intend to keep it that way. Most of the faculty tends to do the same, although some of the more extroverted members of staff tend to find their way into the crowd.

For right now, you’re on your own, and you have the occasional small chat with whoever passes you by. It’s calm and peaceful, just the way you like it.

Until it’s not.

Crowley approaches you, sliding up to stand next to you. You can already tell he wants something based on the look he has on his face. Or, at least the bottom half of his face. Even at a party, he always has that mask on.

“Well hello there. Are you enjoying the party? Aren’t I just so generous to have upped the budget this year?”

By upping the budget, Crowley means the lukewarm punch you’re currently drinking. Lately, guests have been complaining about the lack of food and drinks provided at the party, and some of the more important guests (namely, donors to the school) have threatened to stop attending. Thus, Crowley made the executive decision to provide snacks.

You nod at his question, sipping at your drink so that you don’t have to verbally respond. Naturally, you’re happy to have something to snack on as you partake in your people watching, but you wouldn’t classify them as being ‘good’ snacks.

“Of course you agree. I only provide the best for my esteemed guests.”

He’s stalling. You can tell something’s up, even if you can’t tell what. Crowley always gets rambly like this when he has something on his mind. It’s not like you meant to learn his mannerisms, but you’ve been around him for years now, and he’s not exactly difficult to read.

Instead of building the tension, you decide to cut him some slack, asking him what’s bothering him.

“Wh-what? Whatever could you possibly be talking about? I’m not bothered at all. In fact, I would say I’m quite swell considering how the party is going.”

Oh yeah, something is definitely up. If he wasn’t your employer, you would just tell him to cut the crap and spill what’s on his mind. However, he is your employer, which means you should probably say it with more tact.

You down the remainder of your drink, suddenly wishing it were a little stronger. Then, you look him in the eyes (mask?) and ask him if he’s sure everything is okay.

“Fine, I suppose I’ll come clean, since I’m so generous and all.”

His words almost make you reconsider, but something about the way his mood shifts keeps you where you’re at. He almost looks… vulnerable all of a sudden.

“To tell you the truth, my concerns lie with you. Not in a bad way! Don’t get the wrong idea.”

You nearly have a heart attack, but you’re glad he clarified quickly. What did you do to concern him so much?

“I… well, I was hoping to maybe… ask you to dance? In a strictly professional way, of course! I just noticed how you’re always on the sidelines during the dance every year, and I figured you were lonely. How generous am I, to offer a dance to someone like yourself?”

Any sympathy you had for him vanishes in an instant. You would have said yes if not for what he said at the end there. Why must he always ruin everything by making it like this?

He awkwardly laughs, and you can tell he knows that he messed up. You stare at him, giving him a displeased look, and that causes him to wilt a bit.

“I apologize for that. I’m sure you already guessed, but I was rather nervous to ask you. Alas, even with how charismatic I am, even I have my weak points.”

That gets a small laugh out of you. Your boss is so strange. You then look at him, less upset this time. In fact, your look could almost be considered a fond one.

Instead of a verbal answer, you reach your hand out, a silent gesture. He takes a moment, obviously not expecting you to say yes. Then, he smiles and takes your hand.

He guides you to the dance floor, and you can immediately tell that people are watching you. It’s embarrassing, especially since you’re not much of a dancer. Still, you’re able to push those thoughts aside, instead focusing on the man in front of you.

This is certainly not where you expected your night to end up. But, as Crowley expertly leads you across the floor in a dance, you can’t exactly mind.

[run-little-hero]

TW // Death threats, a little blood

“So this was your plan all along,” says Villain.

Hero has nothing to say back. The beginnings of a confession are lost somewhere in the chill of the beating rain. It’s not worth acknowledging. Villain has discovered the truth exactly as Hero planned for them to.

They continue, “Get me to trust you, let you use me, make me believe we have a common enemy.” They step forward. Their voice hides beneath the pattering rain when they utter, “How blind I’ve been.”

Hero clenches their teeth, straightening. “Correct. But it took a lot of work to get this far, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Villain laughs. “Course. Should’ve known there was something wrong when you suddenly began to enjoy my company.”

“I do. Truly.”

“Well, that makes it all better.”

Villain has learned Hero like a language. Their structures overlap, their consonants and vowels the same. They are threads tied together, and Villain can’t find an end between them. How is it possible to know someone’s soul so intimately and still be betrayed by them?

Hero remains silent. Villain speaks up, “What now? Do you kill me?”

Their head tilts downward minutely, something only Villain can catch, as the motion tugs a string inside them as well. “You’d do the same thing in my position. You know it’s necessary.”

“None of this was necessary, Hero.” Making me care so deeply. Maybe they’re right.

But no, what else do they have if not their hatred, however feigned? Enemies in the eyes of the people, everything in the eyes of each other. Exploitation of this relationship has brought them closer, and Hero is thankful. Mirror images, they know Villain must be as well, deep down.

A spark of anger ignites in Hero, for Villain would dismiss them so easily. “It was. Betrayal doesn’t cut so deep for people like us. We can survive it. You’ve already assessed the damage and decided it won’t kill you.”

“‘We can survive it.’” Villain’s eyes burn hot, tears creeping forth. They feel like a fuse has been lit inside them. “You think I’ll forgive you when you intend to take my life? You think I’ll forgive you while I’m bleeding out?”

“Death often puts people in the mood to forgive. Compassion is more easily repaired than mortality.”

“We’re not like other people.” Hero and Villain now stand inches apart. “How do you expect to live without me?”

Hero locks eyes with Villain. “I think that will become abundantly clear once you’re dead.”

In an instant, Villain is pressed against the nearest wall. Hero is crushing their windpipe.

“D-don’t,” they grunt out. “You’re suppose t-to be a hero.”

Just as Villain begins to black out, the pressure on their throat relieves itself. They’re tossed to the ground, choking on rain.

“I’m saving so many people by snuffing you out. And avenging countless others.” They glare down at Villain, and it strikes Villain that this is the first time Hero has looked so furious.

Something about it is so amusing Villain can’t help but smile. “Don’t—” they cough, forcing the words to scratch their way out of their throat. “Don’t act like you care.”

“What?” Hero knows what Villain is getting at. They’re pulling an ugly truth out of Hero.

“You love me. For better or worse.”

“You’re a narcissist.”

“So?” They spit. “Don’t act like you care about saving anyone. This is about defeating your only weakness.”

Hero is silent. One of the best and worst parts of finding an equal is being known. Right now, there is nowhere to hide.

“I’ll still kill you,” Hero threatens.

“But do you have to?”

“Yes.”

Villain stares up at Hero, holding them hostage through eye contact. “What if I loved you back?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, maybe it should. Maybe you should reconsider your plan.”

“No,” they growl. Suddenly, Villain is knocked back against the pavement, pinned in place by the body on top of them. There’s a blade at their throat. Where did that come from?

They catch their breath. Excitement is their foremost emotion. “We can be partners. I’ll give you a life worth living. We can be together every day.”

“I know better than to make deals with villains.”

“You said we could be saved.”

Villain feels the sting of the knife cut into their skin, just slightly. Hero is shaking.

“I am saving us. I’m preserving what we have. There is no world for us out there. Not together.”

Villain finds the strength in their left hand, and reaches towards the blade at their neck. Their hand covers Hero’s trembling fingers.

“There can be. Please,” they whisper. “Aren’t we worth saving?”

—

snippet #6

[em-the-nem]

An Evening Into an Eternity

~~Werewolf(me) X female anatomy reader~~

This smut is about lesbian/queer sex.

18+ only! Also terfs fuck off -_-

You decide to take a walk in the woods near your house one evening as the sun is setting. Surely you'll make it back before dark, right?

⚠️TW for brief mentions of drug and alcohol use and predator/prey dynamic⚠️

You needed to clear your head. It has been 3 months since you and your partner split, but seeing them at the drag show tonight with their new girlfriend brought up a lot of pain for you. You used to play in the woods near your house all the time when you were in high school. Maybe they could bring you some enjoyment now? Had to be fairly quick though, it would be dark soon. You were confident you could remember your way around and get back in time. After putting your shoes on, you set out.

It didn't take long for you to find the old fort you and a friend had constructed together. You used to sit out here for hours, smoking weed and shooting the shit.

Feels like a lifetime ago now.

Pushing the memories aside, you decide to investigate the old fort. You duck down under the rough lean-to and shine your phone light inside. But it's not nearly as abandoned looking as you expected. In fact, there are many new things inside that you don't recognize. A cup and a bowl, a log that is roughly shaped as a table, and some fur pelts stacked together in what looks like... A bed? A nest would be more accurate, but you certainly didn't know of any animal that would make a nest like that. You quickly begin to retreat backwards out of the lean-to, thinking you've just intruded on someone's home so you should let it be.

Your retreat is halted when you hear a rustling in the bushes. You freeze, turning and shining your phone light at the foliage around you. You wonder how it got dark so fast. Another rustle, this time closer and distinctly to your right. You shine your light into the darkness and begin to tiptoe as quietly as you can in the opposite direction, keeping your eyes on the place that the sound came from.

After a few moments of silence, you stop. Must've just been a rabbit or something. You think to yourself. You shine your light towards the dark one more time, just in case. This time, your light briefly catches on a pair of green eyes. What? No. That couldn't have been. You scan the darkness once more and see nothing.

Deciding that you have become paranoid, you turn to head back towards home. You keep your phone light on the ground so you don't trip over any roots or rocks. The sounds of the night are calming to you. Crickets, frogs, owls... growls.

Wait.. what?

A warmth seems to materialize behind you out of nowhere. You are stopped dead in your tracks as a pair of hairy limbs wrap around you, one clawed hand covering your mouth and the other firmly around your waist.

You try to scream, but the hand is large and muffles any chance of you being heard. Then, a deep gutteral growl comes from the creature behind you.

"Be still." I command.

You freeze. it talks?

My snout burrows into your neck, breathing deeply. Another growl follows.

"Mate." I say.

It wasn't a question. Not like you could answer anyway with this hand over your mouth. You whimper.

"I'm going to let go of your mouth now." I say, simply. "And you are going to be quiet."

You nod, and I release my hand from your mouth. I grab both of your hips and spin you around, and you come face to face with me. Well you would, if it weren't for the fact that the furry beast standing in front of you wasn't seven feet tall.

I keep a hold of your waist with one hand, and with the other I grab your chin and lift it till our eyes meet.

"Mate." I say again.

The green eyes you saw earlier are now piercing down at you, held in the body of a Werewolf.

"I-" you start to protest, ask questions, say something. But a sharp claw on your neck makes you reconsider.

"No questions." I say with a growl. "I speak, you listen."

You nod again slightly, and feel the claw dig into your neck a little.

"I know your scent. I found this place you made. I knew you would return. So I waited for you."

Your eyes search my face. My claw drags down the side of your neck. You find yourself tilting your head and exposing your neck more, the sensation of my claw tracing your skin causing you to shudder.

I lean down and drink in your scent once again, my eyes fluttering with hunger and desire. Both arms wrap around you and pull you even closer so that you are nearly enveloped in my fur.

"your mine." I snarl softly in your ear. "Mine only."

Your breath catches in your throat as I bite down into your neck. You let out a cry of pain as my teeth sink in. I cover your mouth once more.

"shhhh quiet now." I say, soothingly. "We have only just begun."

I lap up your blood with my tongue, and then trail kisses up your neck to your face. I remove my hand from your mouth and kiss you deeply as we descend to the forest floor, my full weight coming down on top of you.

The kiss deepens and you lose yourself in it. You wrap your arms around my neck and stroke my fur. I am firm and strong, but warm. I move a claw to your chest and quickly rip your shirt down the middle, followed by your bra. I begin to move down your body, biting and kissing and licking any bare skin I come in contact with. You let out a small moan, and instead of silencing you this time, I lock eyes with you.

"No need to be quiet now, my little Rabbit." I say in a commanding tone. "I want to hear the beautiful sounds of my Mate as I mark and claim you."

I resume my attention on your torso, taking extra time with your nipples as your moans grow louder. You reach for my fur to pull my head away, already overwhelmed, but I grab your wrists and pin them to the ground with one clawed hand.

"We are far from done." I growl.

With my other hand, I make quick work of the clothes covering your bottom half just as I did the top half. Once you are fully exposed to me, my claw traces your body as I examine you with feral eyes.

"My Mate." I say again. "So beautiful. So soft." My hand reaches between your legs. "And so intoxicating." I move down your body and my snout begins to nudge at your clit, a mixture of whimpers and heavy breathing escaping my lips. I am desperate to taste you. I grab one of your legs with each hand and pull them over my shoulders as I begin to devour your pussy. My tongue, long and thick, fills you and reaches your g-spot. You grab the fur of my head and groan loudly from the approach of your orgasm. I go deeper and faster, lapping up every bit as my nose rubs against your clit.

"F-fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You scream as you cum. I continue lapping up your juices, not missing a drop. I groan into your pussy. My mouth moves to your clit. I suck hungrily at it, holding your hips up to rock them back and forth onto my face. You grip my fur harder, nearly crying from the overstimulation. You cum again, even harder and faster than before. I stop abruptly, then quickly sit up and grab you, lifting you into my arms with ease.

"Wh-what? What are you-?" You try to ask. I simply place my thumb firmly in your mouth and press down on your tongue.

"suck." I command. And you comply.

My thumb is long and nearly reaches the back of your throat. Your mind starts to grow fuzzy as I pump my finger in and out of your mouth as I carry you.

We reach the fort once more. My finger leaves your mouth. I place you in my nest and flip you onto your stomach, then I grab your hips and pull until you are ass up. My claws rake against your back and you let out a cry of both pain and pleasure.

"no more waiting, my little Bunny. Now you will truly be my Mate." I say.

With a gutteral howl, I plunge three fingers into you. My hips buck forward and back, humping your leg as I finger fuck you. You scream with the stretch, my fingers long and thick inside of you. I rake a claw down your back once again, whimpering as I hump and fuck you for what feels like an eternity. Your vision blurs and comes back into focus, you lose count of how many times you cum. The world around you has faded away and it is only you and me. Your Werewolf.

Your Mate.

[kittyplanchett3]

I saw you had a bad experience with a hypnotist. There are a lot of good dominants like myself that can help you be a bimbo. If you want to play just answer this message Yes or No and I'll message you on my main account. If you want to be a very good girl you can respond yes sir. You looked good as a blonde and I would enjoy helping you get back to serving men like good bimbos should.

you seem to be confused so let me clarify some things!

i don't need nor do i desire to obey someone like you. i'm pretty fucking certain that just based off this message you probably have no fucking clue wtf you are even doing and that most of your experience as a dominant is in scenes in your mind that you fantasize about based off the erotica and porn you should probably slow down consuming. i say this because people in fantasies love this shit but unfortunately for you, i exist outside of the erotica you probably lost the plot in.

you want to help me be a better bimbo? how? are you going to send me some files someone else made, maybe a video/gif or two you stole from discord, and then trance me with something copy/pasted while possibly trying to sneak in some suggestions we haven't discussed relating to me getting on cam or sending you nudes? wow so tempting.

there is nothing that you can offer me that i either don't already know or that i can't learn from someone more qualified. if you spent any time on any of my pages you would see i prefer to dom and that i do that professionally.

since you decided to open with play adjacent talk without any discussion, i figured i would respond in the same manner. if me assuming things and degrading you in my response feels bad (and i hope it does) i hope you'll reconsider assuming my desires and projecting yourself into them in the future cuz that feels gross to me and tbh this shit gives me the ick. you follow people like me that you won't ever pull because you send messages like this somehow thinking it's hot.

i am assuming the other weird messages i got around the same time are also from you. i'm not sorry about this being unkind. your message felt gross and i don't owe any dominant anon with a skill for overstepping and making shitty assumptions about my desires or preferences my patience or kindness.

no.

if you have sent me a message like this or are thinking about it: read this and then read it again.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Hear me out… a manager who doodles on band-aids 😭

The band-aids Team Japan supplies their players are rather boring, so our lovely manager decides to spiffy them up a little bit.

It starts small. Hinata accidentally gets a paper cut from filling out forms so you take him to get it bandaged. You place the band-aid on him and he just stares.

Hinata 👉🏻😐🤨

“Why does my band-aid have a drawing of a cloud on it?” He asks

You shrug, “plain band-aids are boring, I thought I’d add something to them.” Not thinking it’s a big deal, you go back to your business as Hinata just stares at the band-aid.

“You-you drew this for me Yn?” He asks, bright globes staring practically into your soul.

“Well I mean- kinda? I did draw on several of them-”

It’s too late YN. Hinata runs into the main gym, screaming about how you personally drew a picture on his band-aid. Before you can clarify anything, you’ve got an entire situation on your hands.

“Hey I got a band-aid last week from you Yn and I didn’t have anything drawn on it!” Atsumu shouts at you

“That’s because YN doesn’t like you,” Sakusa remarks, walking past and heading to the locker room and Atsumu glares at the back of his head.

“YN can I have a special band-aid?” Bokuto whines

“Don’t be silly Bokuto, you need to hurt yourself first!” Yaku jokes as the gears in Bokuto’s brain began to turn

“Bokuto no! Yaku stop it!” You yell as Bokuto instantly deflates

“YN does drawing on the band-aid make them any less durable?” Ushijima questions

“No Wakatoshi, it doesn’t,” you sigh, palming your face at the mess your little art project has created.

“Of that is the case, May I request a volleyball on my future band-aid?” Ushijima inquires

You sigh again, throwing your hands up, “sure why not!”

“Oh so now your taking requests when you didn’t even bother to draw on mine!” Atsumu screams

“Uhh YN, maybe you should apologize to Bokuto,” Komori suggests as you look to see a deflated Bokuto sitting in the utility closet.

Maybe next time you might reconsider spicing up the band-aids 😅