#once again I am unsure how to tag her

[zipzapzopzoop]

she just wants to say hi

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

[sailorsoons]

On the Clock | Teaser (c.hs)

Pairing: Vernon x f. reader

Summary: Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the bookstore as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

Word Count: TBD

Genre: Faking dating, Coworkers to Lovers, Romcom

Type: Smut, some fluff and crack

 Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Full fic warnings TBD but general warnings include explicit language, explicit sexual content, a little bit of a miscom trope, a hint of angst, a whole lotta stupid!

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab by @camandemstudios

Masterlist | Ask | Join Tag List

COMING SUNDAY, FEB. 16

“Well,” Vernon (from IT) eventually says. “No harm done once you tell everyone we’re not dating.”

“Once I what?” 

“Well you’ll have to-”

“No way.”

“What?” 

“Do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 

He raises a brow. “More embarrassing than grabbing some dude in the bookstore and claiming he’s your boyfriend.” 

The air leaves your lungs and you melt into the seat, your misery showing. “I already said sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just tell everyone you broke up with me.” You snort. 

“No one would believe that.” 

“Why?” 

Instead of answering him immediately, you busy yourself unraveling silverware. It’s a hard question to answer, not because you don’t know the answer but because you don’t want to tell him. Vernon (from IT) is quiet, though. Patient. 

He doesn’t press you for an answer, happy to wait you out until you’ve folded your napkin and placed it on your lap, and once again drained the rest of your water. It does nothing for your nerves as you fixate on a spot atop the table. 

“I don’t… date.” 

“You dated Minho.”

“Yeah. That’s uh… it. It’s kind of a running joke that I am undateable.”

He frowns at that. “Respectfully, I find that incredibly hard to believe.” 

“Thanks. I think.” You pick at a string in the tablecloth. “Anyway, no one would buy that I ended the first relationship I’ve had since Minho. I didn’t even end the last one and sort of clung to it in a way that was sort of embarrassing.” 

“I see.”

You’re unsure if he really does. When Minho had broken up with you, you’d attempt to make arguments to keep him around. Offered less work hours, even said you’d go to therapy to talk about your insane need for success. He hadn’t wanted any of it, and you’d eventually realized that he just… didn’t want you. 

They never did, when people realized what dating you entails. Everyone wants a woman who works hard. They like the illusion of it, the woman who gets up early in the morning and goes to workout before going to her corporate job and girl bossing all day long. They desire the woman who dresses fashionably, who wears designer tags and commands a room all day before coming home to make an effortless dinner followed by a luxurious night routine. 

And you get it. You want to be that too. But the truth is most days you wake up past your alarm and rush to the office wearing shoes that don’t match, and sometimes you come home so late and burned out from your job that you eat a handful of shredded cheese over the sink with a stick of beef jerky, only to do it all again the next day.

That wasn’t what anyone wanted. At least, not in your experience. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “You’re right, or whatever. I should just tell them I lied. I’ve given worse news. Just you know - less personal.” 

For a few minutes, Vernon (from IT) is quiet. You don’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead you watch the ice cubes in your glass melt, little beads of condensation zigzagging down the curve of your glass. 

A sigh makes you look up at Vernon (from IT). “What if we dated for like a month or something?” 

“What?”

“I don’t mean really date,” he offers quickly, sensing your surprise. For some reason, that stings a little. You swallow it down past the knot forming in your throat. “It’ll get people off your back or whatever and we can just mutually end things.” 

“Really? You’d do that.” 

He shrugs a shoulder. “I guess, yeah.”

“You can break up with me,” you promise eagerly, leaning forward with the new promise of a solution to your problem. “Everyone will believe it. Just say I work too much and I’m too obsessed with my career.” 

An uneasy gaze flickers in Vernon (from IT)’s eyes. “It can be mutual,” he says firmly. “That way it ends nicely.”

“Fine. Everyone will think one thing anyway, you’ll get out without a scratch, trust me. Are you sure you’re willing to do this? I can… suck it up and tell everyone I made it up.”

“Do you really want to?” 

“No,” you admit.

“Then it’s settled.” He shrugs, heaving a heavy sigh. “I’ll give you a month and then we can mutually end things.” 

Sticking your hand over the table, you offer it for Vernon (from IT) to shake. His mouth twitches a little as he smiles, leaning forward to take your hand. His is warm and softer than you imagined, enveloping yours firmly as he shakes. 

“Deal,” you smile, feeling a glimmer of hope. 

Just like that, Vernon (from IT) becomes Vernon (your boyfriend). 

Sort of.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms (3)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part III: Conversations over tea

|| Loving Arms Masterlist ||

A/N: Sorry for those of you who saw this before it was fully done! I tried the mobile app and don't plan on doing that again. 😅 P.S I tried a different way with the tag list, and hopefully it worked!

The Targaryen siblings were seated in a semi - circle in the chambers of their aunt, while she sat on the chair of her vanity looking at them with an expression of bemusement.

"Typically, when a child asks to be excused from the table at supper, it is to go and do anything besides seek out another adult" she chuckled.

"It is just.... we hoped to speak with you without our Mother or Grandsire present," Aemond mumbled. "From what we saw at supper, we did not think things would be productive with them present."

"Well... I suppose you are not wrong there," she laughed. She settled herself comfortably on her hair and slowly began to take out the pins from her hair, loosening the tight hold she had placed on it from the style she had it in.

While she did so, the children looked over her features to see if they could spot any similarities between themselves and their aunt. Apart from her distinct auburn hair that she shared with his sister, their aunt looked nothing as they expected of her. But then again, they had such little expectation until they had the opportunity to meet her.

Feeling their gazes, she stilled her hands and met their curious stares. "It would be considered rude to stare at a lady, is there something troubling all of you?"

"Well.... we know so little about you, muña" Aegon said. "We really were not sure what to expect with your arrival, even more now since it is quite obvious that there remains tension between our mother, grandsire, and you."

"I did very little to hide it, didn't I?" she sighed and rubbed at her shoulders to release the pressure settling into her body from the days event.

"Muña?" said Aemond. "Why did you come to King's Landing? And why do you not get along with mother or grandsire?"

Her smile faltered and she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "Let... let me have someone bring us some tea and a comfortable change of clothes for the three of you." She brushed her skirts and fidgeted with her hands. "This... this will be a rather long conversation, if it goes the way that I think this will. I will be... as honest as I can be. Just... give me a moment. Alright?"

The siblings nodded nervously, her own tense smile was a clear enough indication that she was uncomfortable.

Before she left the room to change, Halaena reached out quickly and took her aunt's hand in her own, all the while shaking as she did so as she was so unused to giving her touch freely.

"Muña, we are prepared t - to listen but only what you are w - willing" Halaena stammered. Her gaze dropping down to her feet, plucking and picking at the skirt of her dress.

Their aunt whispered in return, "Thank you."

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

When all had dressed comfortably in their night shirts and shifts, they sat once more in their places. A few teacups were placed in front of the children and carefully their aunt poured each of them a steaming cup.

"I am not one for wine before bed," she attempted a laugh. "I hope you all do not mind, I find it can be quite relaxing for both the body and mind."

The children were quiet, nursing their cups in their hands and looking at one another, unsure of how to keep the conversation. But this did not escape the careful eye of their aunt, deflating in disappointment of herself.

"I am sorry," she said. "I suppose it is a bit difficult to really know where to start with this conversation and do not wish to place that burden on the shoulders of you three. You are all far too young to be worried about the mess that is our family and the affairs that come with it."

"Muña, I do not think we can be too young to know about the shortcomings of our family if mother and grandsire already have the intention of marrying Halaena and I soon" Aegon countered.

She scoffed in disbelief, "Surely you must be joking. Our family has always followed the Faith of the Seven, marriage between brother and sister is not permitted. It is absolute madness, no matter what those daft Targaryen ancestors of yours say!"

"I wish it were simply a joke, muña" Aegon said seriously. "But our grandsire says this would strengthen my claim to the throne and that as Targaryens we are within our right to marry."

"No! Absolutely not!" she said. "I will fight this tooth and nail if I absolutely must, but you and Halaena are not getting married. Is that understood?"

"Yes muña," the pair said with equal sighs of relief.

"The old man is going senile if he thinks that I would let such a marriage occur, he might know the ways of this court but the man does not know how the politics of marriage work at times" she huffed as she took a drink from her tea. "He claims that he was the one that arranged my marriage to your uncle, may the seven rest his soul. But I was the one that made my match and no one else, he thought I was a lost cause."

"Because of your... your," Aemond wasn't sure how to word it.

"My disfigurement?"

"I was trying to find the right words to be tactful, muña" Aemond blushed.

"Do not worry about my feelings pertaining to it, my sweet boy" she soothed. "I have had many years to understand that it is best to not beat around the bush when it comes to the topic, alright?"

The one - eyed prince nodded in appreciation.

"But yes," she murmured. "When I was very young, your grandsire did not think I would ever find a match because of my disfigurement. The skin on my face is still puckered and scarred from where I was burned, and my left eye can see nothing but light."

"You say you were burned," Aemond noted. "My eye was cut by my nephews, the sons of Rhaenyra. Who hurt you?"

She grimaced, "I do not think that I should be telling you that."

"Why not? Do I know who did it?"

"Yes, sweet boy and I do not want to be the one that changes your perception of them."

"Simply tell him, muña" said Aegon. "You said it yourself, the topic isn't one that you need to beat about the bush."

She rubbed at her temples tiredly, "Using my own words against me now. I suppose that I should keep my word about it."

"Who was it?" Aemond asked again.

"Alicent, your mother."

All three of the children looked at her wide - eyed, it was incomprehensible to them that their own mother could have possibly done such a thing. The burns took up the majority of the left - hand side of her face, it was difficult to think of how their mother could have done it and for what reason.

"I will tell you all the story another time," she sighed. "I am not particularly fond of how or why it even happened. People say we should forgive and forget, but it is not an easy thing to forget when the reminder looks back at you in the mirror every day."

"But muña, you said that we could talk about all these things" Halaena said. "You are delaying the conversation."

"We can talk about these things. But I think it would be better if that was a conversation that we saved for another time, it is too complicated of a story to tell. Or maybe it isn't, but I do not feel like having it today."

"Do you promise to have the conversation?" the young girl asked. "People tell us that one day we will be told or one day we can understand, but they never keep their word."

Their aunt looked at each of their young faces, hopeful and yet no expectation because of the many times that someone else had let them down before.

"I promise, my sweet loves. And may the seven strike me where I stand if I do not keep my word."

Satisfied, the three finally took a sip of their tea, only to then have varied expressions of disgust.

The elder lady Hightower burst into laughter at their faces, trying to stifle the amusement. "Either your tea went cold or all three of you have not partaken in drinking much tea, have you?"

"I tend to drink wine, not this leaf water that we have swallowed," Aegon stuck his tongue out in mild disgust.

"If tea is solely leaf water then wine is merely grapes that have spoiled," she teased. "But I suppose my gifts for you all will not have much use then."

"Gifts?" they all asked, because for as much talk that they were grown, the siblings were still only children.

"Yes," she laughed. "But now that I think on it, perhaps the gifts had a bit of selfishness on my part."

She stood and walked to the trunk near the foot of her bed, opening it, she picked up three small bundles of cloth and placed each bundle of the hands of her nephews and niece. Quickly Aegon opened his, finding a light purple tea cup with a golden handle and filigree along its rim. Halaena was more gentle as she unraveled her bundle to find her tea cup was a rosy hue and a darker red handle with ladybugs along its rim. While Aemond carefully found a sky blue tea cup with a silver handle and filigree.

"I was not sure what to gift you all, but I thought that perhaps, your own tea cup that we could use every time that we come together for a chat" she said sheepishly. "But if you all do not like tea, they could serve as a decoration and reminder of today."

"I do not mind tea," Aemond said.

"I suppose I could tolerate it" said Aegon.

"If we drink it then I would like some sweets to make it tastier" Halaena said looking over the ladybugs.

Their aunt laughed and quickly wiped at her eyes, "I will make sure that I have some sweet tarts or other treats for our next conversation. I will look forward to it."

The three flushed happily and looked at their tea cups fondly, already looking forward to the next time that they would spend time with their beloved muña.

[littlefreya]

Neptune's Snare

Summary: She came to take revenge on the loathsome man who murdered her fiance, only to become his captive.

Read Chapter One

Pairing: AU!Pirate August Walker x Virgin OFC (for now 😏)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Sexual themes, dark themes mentioned, historical inaccuracies, kidnapping, captivity, graphic descriptions of sex, intimidation, slow burn, sexual tension, foul language.

A/N: I was unsure whether I should do part 2, but @deandoesthingstome (💖) motivated me to do it, so I truely hope you will like it. Many thanks to @agniavateira, for beta'ing. I am no longer using my old tag list, but I will tag those who specifically asked to be tagged for this story via my new Writing Update Blog @littlefreyaslibrary.

Thanks for reading, and please reblog with a comment 🖤

Chapter Two

Hours had passed since the Captain left—hours of futile attempts to escape the cruelty of the heavy iron binds. By now, the ship was deep into the ocean, miles away from any harbour or piece of land. The notion that she’d been abducted by the most ruthless murderer known to authorities had only just begun to sink. 

As hot tears stung at her cheeks, Lizette couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity that led her to this fate.

‘Did you really think that a foolish girl could succeed where great men had failed?’ 

If Lizette had dared be honest, she would admit she never thought that plan through, not that it mattered much anymore. Soon enough, she would be yet another shiny trinket in Blackbeard’s gaudy collection.

Exhausted from a fierce yet futile battle, she leaned her head back against the plush, gold-paneled wall. Her weary gaze drifted through the open window, where the dark skies and black seas merged into a desolate void. No light shone through tonight; the darkness has devoured the stars and the moon. Lizette felt as if she was drowning in it too, sinking into a thick, tar-like liquid. With each breath, the collar around her throat grew heavier, the iron pressing into her skin and dragging her deeper and deeper until everything faded to black.

When she blinked again, it was still night but the cabin was lit in deep shades of honey and amber. Her heart skipped—once for the iron still hanging from her neck and twice as her bleary eyes caught sight of a shadow by the edge of the big table.  

It appeared that her host had returned. 

Boots flung across the food-abundant table, the Captain sat back in his royal velvet chair. One hand cradled a silver chalice whilst the other toyed with the edge of his thick whiskers. Silver trays of food, wine, and books were splayed before him, surrounded by dozens of fat, wax-dripping candles. The flickering flame guttered upon his eyes, painting them bright red while he observed the girl intently. 

The curiosity was mutual, at least to some extent. As loathsome as the pirate was, Lizette could not help but scrutinise. Never in her life did she see a man so crude and yet so regal at the same time, He looked like a washed-out king, holding himself to a higher status amongst the scum aboard his ship. Surrounding himself with fine art, books and scientific obscurities, one would assume that this low-life man was educated, or at least aspired to be. His appearance, too, was of some sort of false elegance,  with his moustache carefully groomed and his hair neatly combed save for an errant curl that fell upon his tanned forehead. However, the white cotton shirt that hung partially unbuttoned and loose from his shoulders exposed him for what he truly was as it revealed a myriad of tattoos, scars, and coarse hair. 

‘Nothing but a filthy scoundrel.’

“At last, sleeping beauty is awake.” 

Lizette kept her tongue knotted. The blazes on her stare answered on her behalf. 

August scoffed at the silent response. ‘Precious little thing,’ Had only she known how much he enjoyed obstinate women. The only thing that was better than bending a spitfire to his will was getting a nun to kneel before his cock.

A slight twitch tugged at his cheek; his smirk widening at the fond memory.  

‘Ah, Mary… you sure pray hard.’

Letting go of his whiskers and the chalice in his grasp, the Captain reached for a loaf of bread and split it in half. Steam rose and coiled to the air.  The scrumptious scent of the freshly baked goods quickly filled the room and wafted over Lizette in a tempting invitation. Absentminded, she suckled her bottom lip, almost able to taste the sweetness on her tongue. 

The pirate held out one piece of the loaf, an unmistakably provoking grin lighting his face. “Would you dine with me, pet?”

Weakness unfurled through her, reminding Lizette that it must have been hours, if not an entire day, since she last ate. Her empty belly flipped and gurgled so loudly that the pirate could hear it even from where he sat. Joy immediately cascaded about his glance; the impish grin between his cheeks further stretched. 

To his delightful surprise, the girl was a lot more stubborn than she appeared. Instead of begging, she offered a spiteful glare and turned her face away. 

“I’d rather starve!” 

“Suit yourself.” The Captain shrugged and bit on one of the pieces. Hums and moans sputtered from his mouth, all exaggerated to taunt his brazen prisoner. As he finished chewing, he sucked on each of his inked fingers. 

“Got a name, pet?”

“What matter is that to you?” The girl spat.

August shrugged again and returned to the chalice, dragging it on the table's surface in circular motions. A deep-red whirlpool briefly formed in his drink. He stared at it indifferently as he retorted, “Matters not, pet. But since you’ll be spending some time here in my quarters, I will require a moniker to approach you by. Question is, would you rather I choose a name for you myself? It won’t be a nice one. I can promise you that.” 

Keeping her eyes averted, the girl folded her knees and hugged them, a deep sigh sinking from her. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the horrendous name he would choose.

“My name is Lizette.” 

A touch of dark delight kissed his face—as if he had heard the enchanting hymn of a siren. Thoughtful, he stopped stirring his drink to the sound of her name, licked his lips, lifted the chalice and pressed it to his lips. “Ah, yes, you are definitely a Lizzy.” 

“It’s Lizette!” she vehemently corrected.  

“Oh!” The pirate abruptly twirled his free hand in the air, his brows lifting in a sardonically submissive gesture. “Forgiveness! Mercy, milady!” That had earned him the attention he was hoping to receive, as finally, Lizette snapped to glare at him. 

The pure ire on her face did nothing but feed his amusement. 

With a slanted grin and his thumb brushing his whiskers, he eyed her back. It’s been a while since a girl piqued his fascination, and this one was indeed something else. Fear seeped from her like dewy nectar from a ripe fruit. The sheen of sweat clinging to her skin and the throbbing at the crook of her neck gave away her true emotions. Yet, she exuded the unyielding fury of a harpy, the shackles around her throat barely deterring her brazen spirit.. 

‘Bold little thing. As ferocious as the ship’s cat…’ August thought and then frowned, ‘Where is that ungodly creature, anyway? Haven’t seen it in a while.’ 

“Lady Lizette…” the correct moniker rolled smoothly on his tongue in an inherently sinister sweetness. “Are you always such a rude guest to your hosts?”

“Guest?!” Lizette seized the chain that held her collar to the wall and lifted it in front of him—a deep frown decorating her weary face.  

“I am not a guest! I am a prisoner!”

“Ah! Ah!” The pirate lifted his inked index finger in an unbearably pretentious manner. "It was you who came aboard my ship willingly, and let us not forget—uninvited.” 

Lizette felt a chill in her chest, the same chill she always sensed when getting an answer wrong in her Latin lessons. He was right, and there was more to it. Pirate or not, doesn't every man deserve respect in his own home? 

That notion made her cheeks hot. 

“And if I may…“ the pirate drawled huskily and shifted into his seat. Lizette’s eyes followed his movement with the wariness of a skittish cat. Initially bemused, she realised his hand had snaked below the table and was now fumbling with his waistband. 

A deep, pulsating pang bloomed in her core as the primordial anxiety every maiden is doomed to suffer from awoke within her. Alarmed, she shook her head and blurted hoarsely, “Wait!” 

The pirate paid her no mind; either he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Then, his hand sprang back sharply with a pistol in his grip—the same one he had confiscated from her merely a few hours before. 

“Did you not attempt to murder me in my own home?” 

With those words, he slammed the pistol on the table, the dull thud booming through the cabin wall and causing Lizette to jump with a start.

Sinking back to his red regal chair, August crossed his fingers together and pressed his lips together with the contempt of an authority figure. The many golden trinkets around his fingers chimed as they collided. 

“Answer me, Pet.” 

Lizette regarded the pistol carefully. The golden floral embellishments upon the handle sparked with the candle's light.  For a fleeting moment, she wondered how fast she needed to be to grab the pistol and shoot him dead in his rotten heart. Instead, she simply nodded, much as she could with the heavy collar around her neck. The spots where the sharp edges grazed her flesh burnt as sweat dripped over the bruised skin.

“Dumb as your plan was, I do appreciate the gesture, las. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to murder me, but it’s definitely the first time it was a beautiful young lady. Was all of this because of a boy?” He challenged, crooking one eyebrow. 

This time, Lizette did not hesitate to answer. 

“You robbed me of my future!” She corrected, and though she tried to maintain a fierce demeanour, the quiver in her voice gave away the rageful grief. 

Sympathy, sadly, was not in August’s books, especially not whilst being distracted by the way her breasts pressed against the confines of the corset with every fervorous breath. A small, almost inaudible groan left his lips. He wondered if she, indeed, was a virgin. Did he deny her of her wedding night? Were these lovely tits ever in the hands of a man before? 

Surely, he would find out. One way or another. 

With a glare still fixed on her cleavage, he grazed his dimpled chin and simply shrugged. 

“Pirate.” 

Lizette hissed in response. Defiant, she snapped her arms across her chest to hide her cleavage. 

‘Pig.’

“So I robbed you of your future,” August continued, mimicking quotation marks with his long, inked fingers. “And thus, you thought you should rob me of mine?” 

“And what future would that be? Murdering and whoring?” she muttered hatefully.  

The pirate swatted a hand over his chest, giving her a fake, exaggerated pout. “Now that pains me, love.” 

Lizette could sense the blood seeth beneath her skin. She was used to men belittling her, but never did she experience such sheer mockery and humiliation. Trembling, she yelled back, “Good! I wish you nothing but pain!”

“And so she continues to insult me in my own home.” August clicked his tongue and shook his head with sardonic disappointment. “You highborn ladies sure lack respect. ‘Funny thing is, no matter how uppity women like you act, they all want the same thing…” his voice slurred and deepened, coaxing a baffled look from the maiden who abruptly forgot her wrath and ate the bait. 

“And what would that be?” 

The pirate stood and calmly paced to the fore of the table, where he leaned against the edge to peer down at his prisoner. Lizette remained guarded. he was fairly far away yet close enough for his shadow to fall upon her face and for his manhood to be situated at the level of her mouth. She struggled to avoid staring at it directly, which only made that wretched smug smile light his face again.

“What you ladies truly want is to be violated by none other but us ‘lowlife scoundrels’,” August nibbled his bottom lip, a dry chuckle escaping him as more fond memories came to mind. “Truly, the lots of you are bored by the castrated virility of the poised gentlemen. All you fantasise about is to be fucked dirty like a whore by a brute who has no sense of propriety.” 

The pirate held his fist before him and mimicked a slow pumping motion. Although Lizette did not quite understand it, his words alone were enough to leave her gravely unsettled. 

“You are an animal,” she snarled, not realising that her nails were biting into her forearms as she clutched herself so protectively. 

But that merely fueled him.    

“Tell me, Pet, did your boy satisfy those dark desires before he left a delicious bonny lass like yourself all alone? Did he split open and plundered your sweet little cunt, ass, and mouth, or did he leave you wet and miserable?”

Heat crawled at Lizette’s cheeks, yet she wasn’t sure whether it was from outrage or shame. Never in her life had she even considered the possibilities he had suggested, and now those horrifying images poisoned her mind.  

Amused by her obvious mortification, the pirate tilted his head impishly. “No? Not even a finger or a tongue?”

“Stop it!” She implored, her voice cracking.

Ignoring her plea, he clicked his tongue. “Aw, sweet, tender flower. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He left you all alone and uncharted—that lonesome seal, begging to be invaded. Well, milady, you didn’t have to threaten me with a pistol in that case. All you had to do was ask.” 

The pirate reached for his bulge and squeezed it, much to Lizette’s dismay.

”Trust me, one night with me, and you’d forget you ever loved him.”

That was enough to send Lizette over the edge. Not thinking twice, she jerked to her feet, the chains around her rattling along a furious onslaught that sputtered from her mouth. 

“Love?! What do you know about love? You are a monster! All you do is kill and rape! You are incapable of love, and I’d be damned if anyone could ever love you!” 

All the candles in the cabin flickered with a sudden gust of wind as the pirate suddenly lunged forward. He moved so fast, too fast. Lizette hadn’t even had the chance to sway from his touch, and already he was upon her. Crude fingers dug deep into the hollows of her cheek, forcing her to face his terrorising stare. 

“You think this is a game? You think you know anything about me, little girl? About what I’ve done!?” 

It was not a question to be answered, and even so, Lizette couldn’t bring herself to speak; she was suffocating, drowning on the surface. All around her, the air stood dense with the scent of iron, wine, and musky sweat, whilst the weight of his body crushed as it clung to her. 

Closer, deeper. Layers upon layers of silk and wool separated their skin from one another, and still, she sensed the curve and firmness of his robust figure. The woven map of muscles that adorned his torso and the flex each muscle made as he tensed were evident 

But none of this came close to what she saw as he forced her to look into his eyesa wrathful maelstrom pregnant with sinister urges beyond her darkest fears. It felt as if it was trying to draw her into a deep sense of anger, and grief submerged her.

Dread began to spill into her veins. He was going to kill her.

Lizette sucked in a deep shuddering breath. She was not going to join her Edward. Not tonight.

“Let go of me!” She squealed and began to punch his shoulders repeatedly. It felt like hitting iron, every blow more painful than the other, yet she refused to stop. 

Indeed, she was just like that sea monster of a cat.

Stoic as an icy sea breeze, the pirate tilted his head at the girl. Despite her desperate efforts, her battle did nothing but vex him. Quirking one eyebrow, he released his grip from her jaw and swiftly reached for her hands. Lizette did her best to evade, squirming erratically, but to no avail. With a swift single hand, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head with a booming thud.

The girl gasped out with surrender, strands of her hair blowing back and forth upon her face as she heaved and panted exhaustingly. With his hand around her wrists and his body slightly bent to meet her height, he stood  closer to her than any other man had before. So close that she could taste the wine and sea salt on his breath and study every freckle and every scar that marked his skin. He was nothing like her Edward, she thought; he was coarse and terrifying, and despite it all, she found him tragically beautiful. 

She hated him for that. 

“Listen to me now and listen carefully,” he finally spoke, tightening his grip around her wrists.

Liaette lifted her chin disdainfully; it took every ounce of self-restraint not to spit at his murderous, smug face. 

“You’ve mistook my hospitality and playfulness for kindness, but let’s get this straight; I am not a good man. Upset me, and I will pluck that little flower between your thighs without blinking and then throw you to my crew once I have my fill.” 

His words brought a stark shiver down her spine, yet it wasn’t just fear this time but something far more primordial. Between her trembling thighs, she sensed dewy wetness. A desperate gnawing need she had never known before. Trying to ease and brush it off, she squirmed and ground her thighs. 

August’s brow rose with realisation, an immediate knowing grin spilling upon his malicious face. He leaned closer, his lips and whiskers brushing against her ear as he spoke. 

“Seems like there won’t be much resistance from you, isn’t that so, pet? Soon, you’ll beg me to fuck y…”

His words were cut as warm saliva splattered on his cheek. 

He shut his eyes momentarily, releasing a deep, exasperated grunt and then moved an inch away to fish a silk handkerchief from his pocket. Lizette watched proudly as he wiped his face. 

The pirate, however, was not amused. Throwing away the handkerchief, he offered her a deadly frown. And then he leaned in, his mouth drawing voraciously closer to hers as if meaning to devour her.

“I warned you…”

“Captain.”

A low, sonorous call followed from the door, drawing both August and Lizette to turn their heads toward the uninvited guest. 

Lizette blinked twice. The man in question was almost the spitting image of August, though his hair was wild with earthy curls and his beard fully grown, pointy, and tended with wax. Indifferent to the scene before him, he drew a pipe from his pockets and lit it with the flame of a candle that stood on a shelf near the door.  

August regarded him with slight respect, yet not without annoyance:." What is it? I am busy.”

“I can see that,” the other pirate puffed out, grey lines of smoke following through his nostrils, “you are needed at the brig.”

“About?”

“Flint might finally speak.”

Eyes ablaze with sudden intrigue, August straightened to his fall height and drew a step back from the girl yet kept his grip around her wrists. 

“I assume your methods worked, brother?” He crooked one eyebrow at the other pirate curiously. 

‘Brother, of course,’ Lizette nearly chuckled. The men must have been twins, although she could tell the other sibling had far more grey in his untamed mane. 

“My methods always work.” He answered with dry arrogance. “Finish her off later. This is more important.”

August lingered, his fingers brushing over his moustache as he contemplated what to do with his sweet little prisoner. The possibilities were endless, yet the more interesting ones would take some time, and with the trouble she gave him, he definitely wanted to give her what she deserved. 

A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips. “A moment, Gus,” he requested, finally unhanding the girl. 

The man, now known as Gus, bowed his head and threw Lizette a quick glance before disappearing into the darkness behind the door.

“It seems like I have some business to attend to, love. Shall we continue our little fun later?” August teased, slight annoyance still lingering at the tone of his voice.

Lizette did not answer. Rubbing her aching wrists, she watched him cautiously while he searched within his pockets.  She wondered what new cruel method of torment he would inflict to her now. 

To her surprise, it was a small silver key.

He lifted it to her face and offered her a razor-sharp  stare." The water is close to freezing; sharks and eels are swimming within them, and every man upon my deck is probably plotting to use you as fuckhole since the moment you stepped onboard. I trust you won’t try anything stupid in my absence.”

“Like what?” Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she dared to speak back, “Seduce one of your crew members to fornicate with me so he would betray and murder you?” 

Her weariness must have brought out the worst in her because she would have never thought of such an inappropriate, vile thing. Then she realised it was  him who, in less than a few hours, corrupted her soul. 

August paused and contemplated for a moment as if this was an actual possibility he did not consider. However, he brushed it off with a burst of taunting laughter while proceeding to unlock the collar around her neck. “I wouldn’t  recommend it, love. They all come with so many exotic afflictions on their cock s that no doctor has even heard of.” 

As the iron was removed from her little neck, the girl rested her hands around it, massaging the cuts and bruises that formed beneath. It ached even worse as the chill air of the night pecked at the raw flesh. 

The pirate waltzed toward the table, reclaiming the pistol in an obviously provoking manner. He sheathed it back at the front of his waistband and paced toward the door. 

“I won’t be long, love,” he promised, and with that, he left and locked the door behind him.

Lizette listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps, counting them one by one until she could no longer hear him. And then, she began to search around the cabin for anything, anything that can be used as a weapon. 

‘I will not be a pirate’s whore.’  She vowed to herself while absentmindedly grazing a palm over her cheeks where August had touched her. 

[alastor-simp]

Sickly Deer - Sick Alastor X Female Reader

❥Summary - Alastor is a very proud man, and he will almost never admit that something is wrong. However, you noticed he seemed a bit off today and wanted to know what was wrong?

❥Tags: Sick alastor, sick day, alastor becomes sick, female reader, reader takes care of a sick alastor, stubborn alastor, fluff , adorable fluff, taking care of someone sick

❥Notes: Always wanted to do a sick character story and I finally get to do one with Alastor.

Was a quiet day in the hotel today. Usually there was the occasional chaos, but surprisingly it was peaceful. Charlie and Vaggie were out shopping for groceries for the hotel. Angel was lounging in his room, relaxing with Fat Nuggets. Niffty was reading a book, most likely manga in the lounge room, with Husk taking a cat nap on the couch next to her. Sir Pentious was in his ship, crafting some devices with his egg bois.

You were lounging in the hotel library, enjoying some quiet time to yourself while reading. Well it was quiet for a second until you heard the sound of static-like cough coming from next to you. Alastor happened to be in the library as well, reading his weekly newspaper. He's usually very quiet when he reads, except with the occasional sound of humming or static. But this was new, as you almost never heard him cough or let alone sneeze for that matter. The coughing started slow, but then it kept getting rougher as he kept doing it, causing you to worry. "Hey Al?" Your eyes were gazing at him with concern. Alastor turned his head towards you, wearing his signature smile: “Yes? What is it my dear?” “Well, are you alright? I noticed you have been coughing a lot. Once you said that, Alastor let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh-ho! It is nothing my dear. Just a small tickle. Nothing to concern yourself with!” He waved his hand in the air, after he finished talking. You still felt unsure, but if he said it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t question him.

How wrong you were, the more and more you saw Al throughout the day, the worse his cough got. Not only that, his face was slightly paler and a bit drenched with sweat. He still was acting like everything was alright, but you knew he was lying. Enough was enough. You caught up with Alastor, as he was walking down the hallway. “Alastor! Stop!” You yelled his name out. He stopped in front of you, and slowly turned around, head tilted in confusion. “You’re sick, aren’t you” Alastors face stayed neutral when you said that, but you knew you got him. “I told you already, my dear. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.” Alastor just smiled wider and turned away from you to continue walking. He was stopped again when he felt a hand grab one of his coat sleeves. His body grew tense and he turned back eerily, not appreciating you touching him. You gave him a strong look: “Well, I AM concerned. And you should be resting cause you’re only going to make it worse.” His garnet colored eyes locked on to yours, static in the air getting louder. “I am the radio demon, my dear. I do not get sick, so please remove your hand, n̸͚͇̏̉o̸̼̓ẇ̷̹̓.” His eyes flashed into radio dials for a split second, causing you to remove your hand from his sleeve quickly. “Thank you. Now then, I shall take my leave.” He turned back around and began to walk away from you. As you were watching him walk away, you noticed he drew to a stop again. His body was still up, but then he began to fall forward. “AL!”

**Alastor POV**

“Ugh….huh?” Alastors eyes opened slowly. He recognized he was in his hotel room as the ceiling was covered in grassy moss and leaves, as he was the one to change it due to his magic. He soon realized he was laying on his bed, wearing his pajamas as he slowly got up from lying down. He doesn’t recall heading back to his room, as his head was still a bit fuzzy. His head was throbbing and his throat was feeling sore. Alastor knew he was feeling sickly, but he refused to believe it. He hates to be perceived as weak, so he preferred to play it off that he was fine.

The sound of the door opening alerted him, causing him to look up. He sees you walking into his room, carrying a tray along with a plastic bag hanging from your arms. “Oh your awake? How are you feeling?” You bear a smile at him, as you walk closer to his bed, setting the tray down on the night stand. “How did I end up here?” Alastor questioned you, still confused at what happened. “You don’t remember?” Your eyes gazed at him back with concern. Alastor shook his head. “You fainted Al. I stopped you in the hallway cause I knew you were sick, but you said you were fine and as you walked away, you stopped and fell forward.” Al’s eyes widen at your statement, as he kept listening to you talk. “I carried you back to your room after that.” You gave him a small smile.

“I see. I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through my dear, but I’m quite alright now.” Pulling the covers off, Al swung his feet to place them in the floor. He was stopped by a hand on his chest. “Oh no you don’t mister. You are staying in bed and getting better. Understand?” Your eyes were filled with determination. “My dear, I am qui-” “Understand?” His words were cut off by you. He continued to look at your face, seeing that you were refusing to budge. Heaving a sigh, he nodded his head. He positioned himself back to how he was on the bed. “Does anyone else know about my ailment?" He said, as you turned his head to look at you. You were removing some stuff out of the plastic bag and set them on the night stand before turning back to him. "The only ones who know are me and Niffty. No one else, I promise you. I had to tell her you were under the weather, and she told me to head to the store to get you some medicine while she made you some venison stew." Alastor continued to listen until he asked you another question: "Did you change me into my pajamas as well?" Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head no. "Your shadow happened to appear when I brought you to the bed. I told it to change you." Alastor just nodded his head at that, smiling at bit wider at your adorable reaction.

Grabbing one of the chairs from Al's desk, you brought it over to where his bed was and took a seat. Reaching for the bowl, you placed it on your lap. He observed you blow a bit on the spoon and hold it out to him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. "Come on Al. There's nothing wrong with me feeding you." Alastor sighed, and opened his mouth, allowing you to give him some of the stew that Niffty prepared. He was able to finish it all off, which pleased you. Placing the bowl back, you grabbed the medicine and a glass of water and handed it to him. Alastor grabbed it and quickly popped them in his mouth, chugging the water to get them down. Sighing, he laid back on the bed, placing his head on the pillow, turning it away from you. "I despise this feeling." He whispered that to himself, but you were able to pick up on it since you were still seated next to him. "What feeling?" you said back to him, tiling your head. "Alastor continued to look away. "The feeling of being sick. Makes me appear weak." Alastor grumbled out the response.

Alastor remained quiet after that. A hand was placed against his cheek, allowing his head to turn back towards you. His eyes widen at you, as he saw you wearing a kind smile. "You're not weak Alastor. Everyone gets sick from time to time, nothing wrong with it. Also, you should know the others would never think about that, they would rather you get some rest and get better." Your thumb stroked his cheek. Alastor listened to what you said and gave a sigh, closing his eyes. "I know, my dear. Just.....feels strange." Moving his hand, he placed it against the one on his cheek. "Thank you, my dear. If there comes a time where you are ailing, I will return the favor." His lips curved into a soft smile. He heard you chuckle, as your hand moved away from his cheek. "Get some rest, Al. I'll come back to check on you." Smiling, you got up from the chair, and grabbed the tray, heading over to the door. Alastor just watched you walk away, leaving his room, and closing the door. His eyes began to grow heavy, as his body started to relax, drifting into a deep sleep.

TAG LIST:

Tag List:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac , @sweet06tart , @nobuharashinyao , @aria-tempest , @fluffismystaplefood , @darischerry , @nightmarenaya , @mooniee123 , @yakultt-art , @ktssstuff , @blakedbeanss , @sweet06tart , @ihyperfixatedagain , @alastorssimp , @sadnessiscoldtea , @artemisandhunters , @crystalreads , @thereeallink

[solar4seekstron]

New Recruit

TFRescue Bots!Heatwave x Cybertronian!Femme!Reader

Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist

Content: 16+, Heatwave is a bbg in this because he’s my bbg <3

TW/Tags: Reader is adorable, mention of gender transition, couple characters ate homophobes, heatwave and reader are being school crushes to each other. Better love story then i did lol

Notes: We all know Hightide and Optimus are good friends so Heatwave is pretty young. At least in here if I’m wrong. So how cool and interesting would it be if reader was Hightides daughter but she chose to be neutral and just visited the Rescue Bots to check up on them. But ends up falling in love? Hehe. Reader is a couple inches shorter then Heatwave.

It was like any other day for the Burns. The Rescue Bots doing their usual job while Heatwave decided to one day go out on his own.

The city already knew about him and the others being alien robots.

So driving around and people waving at him when they passed by was still something he was getting used to.

So imagine his surprise when he sees a femme but.

A femme bot who had no insignia of Autobot or Decepticon. A bright smile on her dermas while giggling at what a lady with her child was saying.

Yes, he was staring at you with an open intake out of mostly shock and surprise.

You had a few good scratches in your frame. You had a long sword in the holder on your hip. Your frame is bulky but also slim at the same time.

He can tell you’re both strong and fast. Your colors a bright red mixed with green. Somehow making it work.

He stared at you from behind one of the large buildings. It was a good distance since you were at the beach.

A bright smile on your dermas even when you waved goodbye to the woman and her child.

You pulled your mouthguard and visors back on. Which made you look a little intimidating. You start to walk towards the city.

Heatwave got fully behind the building. Feeling his spark race a little.

He then looked down when he noticed a couple staring up at him. The man with his husband then chuckles before speaking.

“Don’t worry. I got scared and nervous too when I saw my first love.” The man said turning to his husband at the last word.

The husband smiling. He too speaking. “You got this buddy.”

The couple then walked away. Heatwave just watched them walk away while remaining still. He then looks forward with wide optics while his mind races.

Both were unsure of what the two meant while at the same time understanding what they meant. He got a bit lost in his helm until someone poked his cheek gently.

“Hello?” You asked casually.

Making him flinch and back up with his arms and cervos up ready to fight.

You then put your cervo to your chin. Your other cervo was on your hip while your mask and visors remained on.

S smirk of course under your mask. Heatwave then since stood a bit straighter before soon gathering himself together. Placing his cervos on his hips nervously as he cleared his throat before speaking.

Only for you to beat him to it.

”You must be the one called Heatwave. Correct? Name’s Y/N. You might’ve met my Sire Hightide already?”

You said casually. Heatwave was taken aback a little. “Uhh.”

He looked you up and down. You’re his sparkling?? He thought to himself.

You let out a soft chuckle that caught his attention once more. “My Carrier always had a taste for “larger bots” if you know what I mean?”

You continued. Before looking around then back at him.

Heatwave just blinked. You tilted your helm. “So, was I correct. Heatwave?” You were about to poke his cheek again until his cervo held your wrist.

Catching you by surprise a bit.

He cleared his throat once more before finally speaking. “Yes, I am Heatwave. And if you are Hightides er- sparkling.

How come you two look nothing alike? Besides optic colors.

He kept holding your wrist while you just stared at him. You let out another chuckle. “Well, you see heatwave.” You politely pulled your wrist away.

”It’s called a transition.” You started to walk towards the base. Already know thanks to Optimus. Heatwave realized this and started following you. Standing in front of you up to when you finished talking.

”I was once a big and bad mech just like my sire. But primus was it tiresome to just be that. It never felt right anyway. So changed up to what made me more comfortable and do what I do. Which is fight when I need to and travel to where ever boss bot needs me to go.”

Heatwave spoke. “So that’s why you….oh. I- I’m sorry I-“ You interrupted.

”Now what are you sorry about? I’d say my new look is pretty great. Wouldn’t you say?”

You said the last sentence while both your visors and mouthguard came off.

You looking at him with soft optics. Heatwave felt himself almost blush. Before turning his helm away and his cervo covering his face as he spoke. “N-nothing. Is there a reason you’re here? Like actual? I-I mean uh.”

“As usual when Prime is too busy, he’ll send a bot to come help out the Rescue bots whenever he can. Which I’m sure is a constant thing for you and the others.”

You said in a bit more of a serious tone. Heatwave responded.

“Yeah, so you just visiting or will…?” You let out a soft chuckle. Giving him a warmer smile.

“Like me already hm? We’ll see. I’ll be staying for a few days if that’s alright. Not sure if I’ll see Hightide while I’m here. But we’ll see.”

You said the last part with a bit of discomfort. Heatwave raised an optic ridge before realizing why you said it like that. You noticed and let out a deep chuckle.

“I’m a neutral. Never wished to join whomever. We’ll all end up at one place at the end of one day at some point. Something my sire wasn’t too happy to hear long ago.”

Heatwave just stared at you. Then gets an idea. Slowly he placed a cervo on your shoulder.

A small smile on his dermas. speaking once more.”Well, I’m sure the team will be happy to meet you. Even if it’s the first time.”

This made you feel a little better. You glance down at the ground for a moment before looking back at him.

A small blush appeared on his cheeks. he turned away again and let out a deep chuckle.

“We should start heading to the base now. It will be dark soon.”

You just nodded when he looked back at you.

You both walk over to the base. Getting to know each other along the way. He then helps introduce you to the others.

—————————————————————————

A couple of months have gone by since then. You’d help with missions. You and Blades got along very well. Between then when you met Heatwave.

Chase seemed to like you because you’d watch those comedy shows he likes. And Boulder..

You two were pretty chill.

One day though. While you and Heatwave were hanging out in the base as the others were out for patrol.

Both you and Heatwave sitting on the couch. Having finished speaking to Optimus on the TV earlier about your mission.

You sat casually and more like a typical lady would. Your cervos on your lap while you watched this action movie Cody wanted you both to check out.

Something about two witches becoming friends. The songs were good you’ll admit.

There was some good distance between you both. You kept watching with a smile. Not noticing the glances Heatwave would give to you.

His cervos were originally on his lap before sitting on the couch on his sides.

Your smirk grows a bit wider. Yes, you had a small crush on the guy. And thought why not give this relationship a try. Maybe he likes you back.

Casually, well as best as you can. You placed your cervo a bit close next to his own.

His optics constantly glancing from the TV back to his and your cervo. He tried thinking fast. Maybe starting up a conversation will calm his nerves.

”So uh, what do you think of Griffen rock? Pretty nice to live at.” He turned his helm towards you. You then look at him.

“Yes, I really like it here. Optimus never told me how entertaining it can be when hanging out with the bots. Along with how kind the humans of this planet are.”

You continue to glance at Heatwave. “I might even start calling this my new home. If your bots will have me?”

Heatwave rubbed the back of his helm as a small smile appeared on his dermas.

”We’d….”He hesitated. Looking at your cervo next to his. And so with a deep breath. His cervo went over your own gently. Looking into your optics once more as he said.

“We’d love to have you stay with us.”

You faced him fully. Your smile grew wider as you both just stared at each other, both with smiles on your dermas.

After what felt like minutes was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the alarm.

Causing you both to stand until you both got a call through the comm by blades.

”Sorry for the alarm guys. But uhh we have a Decepticon issue in the city.” You and Heatwave looked at each other. Heatwave then responding. “We’re on our way.!”

You both making it into the city together.

Soon you both see what appears to be a pink decepticon. Wait is that? Oh no. You thought to yourself with an annoyed expression.

Standing there fighting against the others while the humans evacuated was no other Glowstrike.

A femme you weren’t too happy to see. Your visors and a mouth guard soon on. Heatwave glanced at you while his fists were up. He then asked.

“Old pal of yours?”

”Something like that.” You responded. She was able to easily put the others down with causality. That is until she noticed you and Heatwave.

Making her way over. You then spoke, only loud enough for Heatwave to hear.

”Heatwave let me handle her. I’ll be fine but you won’t. She always has a trick up her sleeve.” He glanced at you as he responded. “Y/N what are you talking about? I can’t just leave- “

He’s interrupted by the pink femme.

”My my I’ll admit. Having all these mechs to yourself on this island makes me a bit jealous. Too bad you have them much longer femme.”

Good, she doesn’t recognize you. Heatwave was a bit confused. “Y/N we can take her, I’ve seen you fight before!”

”Y/N?” She looked at you confused. Then recognize your optics. Her expression soon turned angry. “YOU! So this is where you went?! And why do you look like that!?” You just rolled your optics.

”I got a makeover. To look better than you!” You ran throwing in the first punch. She didn’t block it in time. You then yelled telling Heatwave.

“Heatwave call for Bee. Tell him one of his Decepticons got here.” He nodded ding say while you kept Glowstrike down. Luckily her being surprised seeing you caught her off guard.

She started to yell slurs and tried to get out of your grasp. But you had a strong grip like you did before your transition.

Heatwave calls Bee while he puts her in cuffs and this neck cuff to weaken her.

You both waiting for Bee and one of his team members to come get her. You then help the other up. Boulder and Chase heading back to base.

She did hit them pretty hard. Blades shooting to stay so he can see Bee.

As your three wait. Having knocked out Glowstrike. Heatwave started speaking, his voice full with a little bit of concern.

”So..if you don’t mind me asking. How did you and this femme know each other?”

Your visors and mouth guard go back so your face shows. You then spoke to him with your sweet tone as always.

“We were uhh…exs before my transition. She too was into bigger bots..” You giggled nervously. Heatwave just stared at you with a soft smile.

”She… didn't wish to change her ways after the war.” You let out a small sigh. “Pretty much.”

G

You looked away for a moment unsure of what to say. Heatwave's smile went away as he looked away as well. Until he noticed blades with an angry expression at him.

Blades then gestured towards you for Heatwave to do or say something. Being the wingman that he is.

Heatwave took in what the humans said a deep breath. His face shows determination as he turns to face you fully.

“Y-Y/n I know it’s been only a couple of months. But I was w-well wondering if you’d.” He let out a groan. You have turned to face him as well. Your optics connect once more.

”I-I wish to ask if you’d like to.” He’s then interrupted by a booming voice. “Well, well look at who decided to come to my island!”

Hightide yells in a not-so-excited tone. Walking out of the water so casually. You, Heatwave, and Blades looking at Hightide's direction. Heatwave noticed your expression.

You were trying to keep it together as you crossed your arms.

Hightide made his way with his usual frown when he looked at you. Getting close enough once he spoke once more.

”Let me guess, Optimus sent you here to help out the Rescue Bots. Out of all the bots.” You remained silent. Hightide only got more upset. “Still giving the silent treatment. Something a part of your true self as well?-“

”That’s enough Hightide. They’re here to help us out. Is there an actual reason you’re even up here?” He stood fully next to you. You glanced at him a little surprised.

But a small smile soon formed on your dermas while Hightide then spoke.

“Just had to see how much smaller my sparkling decided to make himself. I see as small as his carrier.” His words hurt you. Though you did your best to not show it,

Heatwave only got more and more angry. Talking over Hightide with a more angry tone.

“You don’t speak to her like that! She is a femme and you should respect that!” Hightide was taken aback. “If you have such a problem with her being here with us to help out.

Then take it up with Optimus Prime!”

Hightide was confused. “I never said anything about-“ Heatwave has made his way to stand in front of Hightide. His voice was rougher showing his anger. “Take it. Up. With. Optimus.”

Hightide just stared down at him before looking at you. Then looking back at Heatwave. Letting out a huff after a moment and turns back.

Walking over back to the water without saying another word to you. You watched as Heatwave turned around and walked back to you and Blades.

Blades having a fan moment. That’s when Bee and Strongarm finally arrived to take away Glowstick.

You and Heatwave remain quiet with each other. At first, he thought you were maybe mad at him. But when he glanced at you while Bee and Blades didn’t flirt with each other.

Heatwave noticed a smile on your dermas. You were looking at him before looking back at the others with a smile.

All that’s needed is to tell Heatwave that he did good. The day carried on as it days every day after that. And that there was just a good start to your friendship taking the next step to become even more.

This was going to be a good year for you both.

This is SO fun to write. I can honestly see Heatwave being a little nervous bit and I enjoy that first love at first sight trope, sue me. I hope you guys enjoyed this sorry to Hightide fans for making him a bit of a jerk here. It just fits with the Tory.

Anyway, I hope to see you guys in the next posts, and as always a repost is always appreciated! And hope you guys have a good rest of your day! See you all Tuesday!

[crowsofdarkness]

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter One

-gif and pictures not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

My footsteps echoed down the long and dark corridor, the gloom moisture clinging to not only the concrete walls but my already clammy skin as well. Even in the quiet, there was still a lingering dripping from some kind of running water that seemed to echo with every step I took. It was hard to breathe due to my heart that was currently logged in my throat as fear clung deep into the marrow of my bones, unsure what exactly I was about to walk into. I was going in blind with only one text guiding me, the desperation for answers taking over the rational side of my brain. 

Unknown: If you want to know what happened to your sister, come here at 10 p.m. Alone. Show the man at the door this picture and he’ll let you in. 

Attached to the text was an address, somewhere unknown, and a picture of a bloody crow.

After six months of no answers from the police on what happened to my missing sister, I was left with no choice but to find answers on my own. My sister and I weren’t always close due to some past family trauma, but we always texted to check in every first Sunday of the month just to see how things were going. When my texts went unanswered for two months, I felt deep in my gut something was wrong because she always texted me back. 

Swallowing the lump, or my heart, in my throat, I dragged my hand over the wall using it to guide me in the dim light, hoping that soon I’d find some sort of door of sign of life. The first door I walked through was heavily guarded by two men and I did my best not to notice the guns hoisted on their hips. Once I showed them the picture of the bloody crow, I was thrusted through the door with a grunt and the noise of it slamming behind me. 

Doing my best to ignore the looming thought that was pestering me about potentially being murdered, I pulled at the sleeves of my hoodie to bring it over my hands as I came to a near dead end, the only way to turn is left. So with a sigh, I took the left and grabbed my phone out of my pocket. 

It was a few minutes past five but the thing that had my attention was the fact I had no service. 

“I am underground,” I grumbled to myself, pocketing my phone again. 

The sudden commotion of yelling and loud bass caught my attention, a light flickering at the end of the hall above a door. I came to a pause in front of the large metal door, trying to gain the final ounce of courage I needed to push through. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was about to walk into, whether it be my death or kidnapping, but the image of my sister flashed in my mind. Even though we weren’t close, we were all each other had, our parents dying when we were younger. 

My shaking fingers wrapped around the rusted door knob and with one final deep breath, I pushed open the door. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something copper permeated the air as I pushed through the thick crowd of bodies, all screaming at something. 

“Get him, Crow!” 

“Beat his ass, Crow! Don’t let him take you down!” 

“OH FUCK! LOOK AT ALL THAT BLOOD!” 

Uneasy settled in my stomach, threatening to rise up in my throat as my mouth ran dry when I pushed myself through the clearing of bodies. A large cage came into view, illuminated by red LED lights, but what caught my attention were the two people inside of it. One man was on the ground, lifeless with blood pooling out of a gash in his forehead, while another sat on his hips laying fist after fist into the other guy's face. Tattoos littered over the puncher’s body and I watched almost in a trance as the muscles in his back tensed with each and every punch. 

“What the fuck is this?!” I choked, my fear being drowned out by the music and cheers from the crowd. 

I’d heard rumors for years about an underground fight club, one that the police couldn’t shut down no matter how hard they tried. Along with the rumors, people speculated that someone higher up, a judge or even the mayor, was a part of this underground fight club. I’d always been naive, not wanting to think my quiet little town in Michigan could have something so disgusting as an underground and highly illegal fighting ring. 

How the fuck was my missing sister apart of this? 

I shook my head, knowing that there wasn’t any way she was tied up in this. She was the most innocent person I knew and quite frankly, pure as could be. 

How would you know? You talked once a month for less than ten minutes. 

Shaking the thought from my head, I dared a glance up at the cage once more and nearly threw up as I saw the man with tattoos kick the other man in the stomach. Hard enough that the sound of bones breaking echoed in the thick air. 

“Fuck,” I held a hand to my mouth and turned on my heels, desperately needing to get out of there. 

I hated violence. It made me sick to my stomach every single time; like it was doing currently. 

Pushing through the crowd, ignoring their calls to whoever The Crow was, and nearly sucked in a sob of relief when I found the door I’d walked through a few minutes prior. Only once I walked through the doorway, I realized it wasn’t the same door. I’d walked into a room only illuminated by a muted orange light hanging from the ceiling as it casted over a single bed. A body laying halfway on it with cold vacant eyes and a slit throat pooling blood to the floor. 

A shriek clawed its way out of my throat as I slipped on something wet, maybe the blood, and fell onto something hard. Crawling to my knees, I stared back at another set of cold vacant eyes with a bullet wound to their forehead. 

“What the fuck!” I cried, sliding away from yet another dead body. 

Tears spilled over my face as I hit something hard but before I could breathe a sigh of relief thinking it was a wall, I was yanked up by my hair. Pain burned at my scalp as I was thrown against the wall, now meeting a pair of cold but vibrant eyes as they thinned into slits. 

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice thick with an accent spat towards me. 

All I could smell was not only my fear but the crimson blood that covered me as well. My dress and bare legs were covered in it as my feet dangled against the floor. Whoever this man was with the cold eyes held me high against the wall and nearly out of view from the light so I could only make out those eyes. 

Bright as the morning sun yet dark as the bottom of the ocean, looming in the depths of despair. 

His grip from my hair had moved to my neck, cutting off almost all of my oxygen. Stars danced in the corner of my eyes and my body began to feel weak, my soul flickering as it let in the darkness. 

Just as I felt life leave me, the door to the room clicked open and another thick accent filled the room. It was in a language I wasn’t familiar with but whatever was said must have been important enough because the man threw me to the floor with two simple words. 

“Don’t move.” 

Blinking rapidly, I gasped for breath while slowly rising to my knees. I avoided the dead bodies, not bothering to look to see if maybe the woman on the bed was my sister. Instead I watched as the two alive bodies chatted in the dark corners of the room. The newcomer left the door cracked, just enough for me to slip through. If I was quick enough, I could leave and get lost with the crowd. There wasn’t any way whoever attacked me got a good look at my face since I couldn’t see him. 

Now or never. 

Spriting up from the ground, I left my heels behind as I slid through the blood and barreled my way through the door. Boutrius' voice lingered behind me but I didn’t dare look back, just kept running through the crowd. I didn’t bother to care how I looked covered in blood. More than half of the people here were either too stoned or drunk to notice. 

Seeing another door less than a few feet in front of me, I didn’t bother to question if it was the door to safety as I nearly kicked it open with the hope to find some solace from the men chasing me. Leaning my body against the door, I convulsed with sobs and tried my best to stand up on two feet. I could scream, cry, and fall to my knees back at my apartment. 

Not here. 

I needed to find a way out of here. 

“Are you lost?” 

Gasping, I opened my eyes with the fear of somehow one of those men already lying in wait for me in this room. But instead of cold vibrant eyes, I was met with a pair of bright and angelic ones as they dragged up and down the entire length of my legs. Those eyes lingered on the blood covering me with furrowed brows and a cigarette hung from his lips. 

I noticed the man sitting in front of me was the one inside the cage, the one with all the tattoos that was nearly killing his opponent. 

Kill. 

Murder. 

Two dead bodies. 

Tears continued to fall as I turned on my heels to reach for the doorknob, only for the door to be slammed shut as soon as I opened it. I screamed in fear, ready for whatever this man would do to me. 

“Please,” I begged while hastily shaking my head. “I promise I didn’t see anything. Let me leave and I won’t tell anyone.” 

His large frame loomed behind me and his thick arm, covered in tattoos, continued to keep the door shut. 

“What did you see?”

I could feel his chest vibrate against my back when he spoke. 

“I-I-can’t. Pl-plea-please. I w-want-.” 

I couldn't speak, the fear and images of what happened in that room plagued me. They threatened to drag me down to the depths of whatever hell was. It clawed at my insides, shredding them piece by piece until I was nothing more than a pile of blood. 

Blood. 

A loud boom echoed against the door causing me to scream yet again and I nearly fell into this man's bare chest as one of his arms wrapped around me. 

“What has you spooked, hm?” His voice brushed against my ear. 

I shivered in his embrace before trying to remove myself from it, only making him tighten his arm around my stomach as the banging against the door continued. 

“Open up, motherfucker! We’ve got a situation in one of the rooms. Two situations that need to be cleaned up!” A voice called through the thick metal. 

My body nearly went slack in this man's embrace. Something he picked up on so he dragged me to the couch he’d previously been sitting on and threw me onto it. With a firm finger he pointed at me. 

“Don’t you dare fucking move.” 

Through the tears, I just now noticed he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of black athletic shorts that hung low on his hips. He was tall and built like a wall of muscles as he stalked over to the door and opened it just a crack. 

“What's going on?” His gruff voice asked whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Eric, there’s two dead bodies in one of the rooms. Some dude walked in on it and is freaking out. I have Jackson holding him in the locker room so he can’t tell anyone what's going on. We’re working on clearing out the club but you need to talk to this guy.” 

By now the tears and sobs have stopped, throat dry, and I stared blankly ahead at the peeling wall in front of me. I’d become numb to my surroundings, not even picking up the scent of cigarette smoke and cinnamon that lingered in the air. The blood had died on my legs, painting me with the images that refused to stop playing in my mind. My dress, however, was still soaked with blood. 

The man that was holding me in this room, Eric, spewed out a handful of curses before muttering something to whoever was on the other side of the door. 

What if it was the two men chasing me? The one that nearly choked me to death in that very same room? 

A slamming of a door caused me to jump in my spot on the worn leather couch and as Eric stalked back towards me I began to feel the all too familiar weight of dread fill me. 

Fuck, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to finish what that one guy couldn’t. 

Expecting him to pull a gun out from somewhere or wrap his hand around my throat, I was shocked to see him sit on the table in front of me, letting his elbows rest on his knees. My mouth was still dry, not producing any saliva, as I stared blankly in those angel eyes now. He still had the lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he motioned towards my soaked dress. 

“Do you have a name?” Eric asked. 

I couldn’t speak, words suddenly so foreign on my tongue, so instead I gave him a curt nod. Just as Eric was about to speak again, there was another knock on the door causing him to yell over his shoulder. 

“I’m busy!” 

“Boss! It’s important! We found something!” 

He swiftly pushed himself off of the table and back over to the door. It was open for less than five seconds as he retrieved something before slamming it shut. 

“Y/N L/N.” 

My eyes snapped over towards Eric as he leaned against the door holding my purse in one hand and my wallet in the other. 

How could I have been so stupid to not only bring something that identifies me but also drop it in this unknown place? 

Eric was sitting in front of me once more, dropping my belongings onto the table next to him yet I refused to meet his gaze; keeping it on the door ahead. My only salvation to freedom. 

A vice grip yanked my chin, forcing me to meet Eric's eyes as he held strong on my chin. 

“Now, Y/N,” he cocked his head to the side. “You’re going to tell me how the fuck you got into my club and why you’re covered in blood while I have two dead bodies to dispose of.” 

[veephoenix]

all that's left | noah sebastian

noah sebastian x reader | tags & triggers warnings: pure angst and pain, mentioned car crash, mentioned coma, implied death | words: 900ish

͢ all that's left

Jolly sat in the hard plastic chair, staring at the floor, tracing the same crack in the linoleum with his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. His fingers twitched in his lap, restless with the things he still couldn’t make sense of, the things he didn’t know how to say to her.

It had been two weeks since the accident. Two weeks of waiting for her to wake up, to open her eyes and remember. Two weeks of trying to accept reality and trying to find the right way to tell her the truth—truth that he still couldn’t accept himself. 

A deep, hollow ache tugged at him as he glanced toward her motionless form in the bed. Machines hummed softly around her, cables trailing from her body like vines trying to hold her down to this world. Her face was pale beneath the harsh hospital lighting. It was hard to reconcile the vibrant girl he remembered with the frail figure lying in front of him now.

He hadn’t left the hospital much since the crash. Couldn’t. Her uncle hadn’t come, as expected, but there had been friends and other relatives that had come to check on her, that had cried when they’d seen her, that had cried even before stepping into the room, once the news had reached them. 

None of it changed a thing. 

A faint groan, barely audible, broke the silence in the room. Jolly’s heart leapt into his throat as he snapped his head up.

Her eyelids fluttered.

For a moment, he froze, unsure if he had imagined it. But then her fingers twitched, her lips parted in a faint gasp, and her eyes—those eyes—opened, unfocused and wide with confusion.

He pronounced her name in a questioning tone. Jolly leaned forward, his voice shaky but hopeful, like it might shatter at any moment.

She blinked slowly, trying to focus, her gaze darting around the room in a frantic haze. Her breaths came in short, shallow bursts. Her body seemed stiff, uncooperative, like it wasn’t hers anymore. She stared down at herself, at the tubes snaking into her arms, the bandages, the bruises, the weight of her broken body sinking in.

“Wh–where…?” Her voice was raspy, as if it had been buried somewhere deep, far away. Panic flickered in her eyes as her hands instinctively pulled at the wires tethering her to the machines.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jolly said quickly, standing now, reaching out but not touching her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re fine.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, her gaze finally locking onto him. But there was no recognition there, only fear.

“J-Jolly?” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

He nodded, forcing himself to breathe, to stay calm. “Yeah, it’s me. Hold on, I’ll get the doctors.”

He stumbled to the door, calling for a nurse, for anyone. It wasn’t long before they flooded the room—nurses, doctors, people in scrubs with voices too loud and movements too fast. They surrounded her, checking vitals, speaking in hushed tones meant to reassure, but her confusion and panic only deepened.

Jolly stood back, hands shoved into his sweats’ pockets, watching helplessly as they worked. This was it. This was the moment he had dreaded, and it was happening too fast. He wasn’t ready. But it wasn’t about him—it was about her. And Noah.

After what felt like forever, the doctors finished their examination. One of them—a tall man with kind eyes—placed a hand on Jolly’s shoulder as they left.

“She’s stable. It’s good that she’s awake. Take it easy, okay? She’s going to be confused and disoriented. We’ll be back in a while to check on her again. ”

Jolly nodded mutely. Easy? There was nothing easy about this.

The room was quieter now, just the two of them again. She lay back against the pillows, her brow furrowed in confusion, but calmer. She turned her head—even that simple movement hurt like hell—. Her eyes landed on Jolly.

“What… happened to me? Why… why am I here?”

Jolly took a slow breath, pulling up the chair beside her bed. His hands were trembling slightly, but he tried to steady them as he clasped them together. “You were in an accident,” he said softly. “Two weeks ago. A car crash.”

She blinked, processing. Her gaze dropped to the cast encasing her leg, the bruises staining her skin, and the machines still connected to her. She swallowed hard, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. It made sense, even if it didn’t feel real. 

“Two… weeks?” she whispered, almost to herself.

Jolly nodded. “Yeah. You’ve been in a coma. But you’re awake now. You’re going to be okay.”

She didn’t respond right away, staring down at her hands. Her face twisted as if she was trying to pull memories from the darkness, but it was like sifting through fog. Then, slowly, she looked back at him.

“Jolly…” Her voice broke a little. “Noah… He was with me. He was in the car too.”

Jolly’s heart clenched, and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

He opened his mouth, but no words came. Just the crushing weight of what had to be said, pressing down on him as he tried to gather the courage to speak.

Her eyes widened as the silence stretched on, and the air between them growing impossibly heavy as her heart succumbed to the most horrifying panic she would ever experience; her eyes, unblinking, filling with tears. 

“Jolly… where’s Noah?” 

[catholicfacade]

WIP PREVIEW

pairing: joost klein x f! reader, joost klein x f! OC

word count: 3,572

synopsis: Joost Klein accidentally meets the love of his life through a tik tok. Valentine. She’s his complete opposite; quiet, reserved, and a bit cold, whereas Joost is bright, bubbly, and extremely outgoing, almost obnoxiously so. But opposites attract and the art of balance is delicate. Getting to know each other without interference proves difficult at first, but the minute Joost and Valentine realize their pining is mutual it’s full speed ahead for the two of them. Like puzzle pieces, they become inseparable, fitted together like it’s always meant to be. Everyone around them is convinced no two people in the world love each other as much as Joost and Valentine do. But Joost’s growing fame sends him down an unexpected spiral, one Valentine is desperate to pull him out of. It changes everything. The two who were once attached at the hip learn to no longer even speak each others names, desperately still in love, but the damage is unbearable. If only the puzzle pieces can come together again to realize just how perfect they are for each other.

authors note: tagging this as both x reader and x OC because this is written in 3rd person POV, i find writing 2nd person difficult for me because i just tend to write “reader” as self-insert, and i know i am a VERY specific type of person 😅 soooooo lowkey self-ship??? but i think it’s best to just make reader an OC and you can simply swap out her name, pronouns, and traits for your own when it’s necessary. and so i would say Valentine [who i named after my own last name, this is just the name i use for ALL my protagonists in my writing actually😅], she’s implied to be autistic/neurodivergent and generally just socially awkward, quiet, introverted. again, self-insert. she is also goth. i always write protagonists with really heavy, angsty, traumatic backstories so i think that’s also why i turn readers into OC’s because i don’t want to force a traumatic past upon you as reader 😭 there is also “April”, who is a second OC i made for this series, she is Valentines best friend who owns her own alternative clothing company and is very important to the story along the way:))

content: RPF, awkwardness, slow burn, pining, yearning, hint of angst, mention alcohol consumption, masturbation, kissing, fantasizing

!!18+ & RPF, DO NOT REPOST OR INTERACT IF RPF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!

how it started:

At 12pm on the dot, two people walk in, Valentine greets them smiling, “Hallo! Hoe gaat het?” [Hello! How are you?] Her Dutch is limited but she tries her best.

“Hallo, is April hier?” [Hello, is April here?] The girl with dark curly hair asks as she approaches, she’s followed by what Valentine assumes to be her boyfriend.

“Nee, maar kan ik jullie helpen?” [No, but can I help you?] Val offers them a gentle smile, unsure if her Dutch is even grammatically correct or not.

“Oh-“ The girls eyebrows shoot up, “You’re Valentine, right?” She suddenly switches to English, Valentine is simultaneously embarrassed but also thankful for the switch.

A blush rises on her cheeks as she nods, “Yeah that’s me, sorry about my Dutch.” She waves her hand apologetically.

“I’m Alanis, and this is Apson.” Alanis smiles and holds her hand out and so does Apson. Val shakes their hands, “Nice to meet you guys, you wanted to film in the store right?”

“Ja, just a little skit about being emo. I wanna seem like a guy who is a total poser and then run out of the store crying when I get called out.” Apson said, maybe blushing a little from having to explain his stupid bit.

It made Valentine chuckle though, “Do whatever you gotta do, man! April told me you have permission from her already so you’re good to do your thing.”

“Thanks,” Apson and Alanis said in unison, which made them giggle at each other.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Apson said looking around.

“Sure,” Val nodded, “Let me open the changing room for you.” She grabbed the keys and unlocked the changing room at the back of the store as Appie and Alanis brainstormed what the character should be wearing. They ended up picking out a stereotypical e-boy outfit, a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, a Metallica t-shirt to go on top, some fingerless skeleton gloves, baggy Tripp pants, and a studded belt.

Appie went into the changing room a few minutes later to get ready, leaving Valentine and Alanis outside together.

“How long have you worked here? It feels weird we haven’t seen you around yet, we’re in here all the time it feels like.” Alanis asked, tilting her head slightly to examine Valentine.

“Not long, only a month now. I think we must’ve just narrowly avoided each other this whole time.” Valentine chuckles and Alanis nods in agreement.

“How long have you known April then?” Valentine asks Alanis.

“I got one piece of jewelry here like a year ago,” Alanis shows Val her gemstone necklace, “And now I get all my jewelry from here, look!” Alanis smiles, showing a few silver rings on her fingers and a beaded bracelet.

“Oh, is that moonstone?” Valentine asks excitedly.

“Yeah! Isn’t it so pretty?” Alanis moves the beads around so they flash their colors brightly in Valentines eyes.

“I love it, and it goes perfectly with your outfit!” She said and Alanis thanks her, “My favorite gemstone is—“

“Done!” Apson calls out suddenly, making both of the girls turn, he looks a bit ridiculous, but that’s the point. The pants are definitely a size too big and the belt definitely isn’t helping because they are practically hanging off of his body.

“Let me put some eyeshadow on you.” Alanis mumbles as she approaches Appie, she looks through her bag until she finds the small compact, taking it out to apply the black shadow loosely around Apson’s eyes. He ends up just looking more tired than emo, but again, it must be what works for the skit.

Val just watches from afar with an amused smile on her face, she likes them, Appie and Alanis, they seem like good people. There’s some footsteps behind her and she turns to see a few customers coming in, “Goedendag!” [Good day!] She greets them, they say it back before looking around at some of the shelves at the front of the store. Valentine returns to her earlier work, stitching by hand some stars onto the corner of a skirt.

“Okay, like this—“ Appie talks Alanis through the scene first, he’s speaking Dutch again so Val can’t pick up most of what he’s saying, he’s just gesturing for how and where Alanis should hold the camera when they go to film. He’s quietly rehearsing the lines with her when he perks up a bit, “Wait…Valentine?”

Val looks over at Appie, “Do you mind saying a line for the tik tok? Just the one about me being a poser?”

She grows a bit nervous, “Oh uhhh…I’m probably not very good at acting… I don’t really post on tik tok like that…” She rubs the back of her neck and looks between Apson and Alanis awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, you just gotta go like ‘ew, fucking poser’ and that’s it!” Apson gives the line a little scoff and a little attitude to it. He grins at her, clearly enthused with his new idea.

“Okay…” Val agrees weakly, coming around the counter to stand by Alanis’ side.

“Okay so like this,” Apson says, rerunning through his lines once more while Alanis practices getting the best angles for the tik tok, “And then camera turns, and you say…?”

Alanis turns the camera on Valentine, who scoffs while looking at Appie, “Such a fucking poser…” She says with all the vitriol she can muster.

“Perfect!” Appie shoots her two thumbs up as Alanis turns the camera back on him, “Then, I’ll begin to cry like this, wahhhh!” Appie cries exaggeratedly, then turns and takes a few steps towards the door. “Then I’ll run outside and that’s it, got it?”

“Got it.” Val and Alanis both say.

The three of them get into position, Appie with his back to the door, standing amongst all the clothes, Alanis starting the recording on her phone, and Valentine just off to side, waiting to deliver her line.

“Aaaaaand action!” Apson claps loudly. Alanis zooms in quickly to Appies face, he’s slouching, neck bent at an awkward angle to seem more depressed, the face he’s making makes him look dead inside, it’s exaggerated by the deep black makeup Alanis brushed around his eyes.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….” [I am soooo emo] Apson delivered the line as flatly as he could, adding a bit of a vocal fry to the ‘zoooo’. Alanis snaps the camera back to show his full outfit before zooming in on his face again for the next line, “Ik ben zoooooo depressief…” [I am sooo depressed]

Valentine held back her laughter, perhaps it wasn’t exactly her type of humor, but it was fun to watch!

Apson gave a big eyeroll to the camera, then looked into it, “Niemand zal mij ooit begrijpen…” [No one will ever understand me]

He suddenly grunts loudly, his expression growing more angry, “Ik zit de hele dag op mijn kamer naar muziek te luisteren, niemand begrijpt het!” [I sit in my room and listen to music all day, no one understands!] He yells.

The camera whips around to Valentine, she puts a disgusted look on her face and scoffs like she did the first time, “Such a fucking poser.” She shakes her head lightly.

Alanis whips the camera back around to Apson, he looks like he’s about to scream, “NEEEE!” He bursts into faux tears, and suddenly he turns to run out of the store. Alanis follows, and they pass the customers Valentine had completely forgotten were even in here! They seem completely and utterly confused and Val feels a little bad for them.

As Appie and Alanis cross the threshold onto the street, still filming, Appie still making wailing noises, he trips on his baggy pants and falls. Valentine gasps, Alanis keeps filming, and someone nearly hits Apson on the ground with their bike.

“Ik ben geen poser!” [I am not a poser!] Apson yells his final line, sobbing crying, clutching his elbow, and Alanis stops recording. She helps him up, they’re laughing as they walk back inside but it seems Appie actually got hurt.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Valentine comes up to them, slightly stunned but also laughing.

“I’m okay,” Appie nods, then turns to the people at the front of the store who are just frozen in shock, “I’m okay!” He waves at them, and they slowly return to what they were looking at in abject horror.

“You’re bleeding a little,” Val frowns when she sees Apsons elbow, “Here, I’ve got a bandaid in my purse.” She moves over to the counter again, opening her bag and pulling out a bandaid for him.

Alanis takes it from her and opens it, “Thanks Valentine.” Appie says warmly.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles.

“I think I should pay for the shirt,” He says while wincing as Alanis applies the bandage to his broken skin, “Pretty sure I got blood on it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Valentine agrees, “April said you could film in the store, not bleed all over her products.”

“Want anything while we’re here, babe?” Apson asks Alanis, who brightens up immediately at the idea of getting herself a little something. “I’ll go get changed while you pick something out.” He says and walks into the changing room to get back into his clothes.

“Can I see your rings, please?” Alanis asks Valentine brightly.

“Of course!” She unlocks the jewelry case behind the counter and pulls out the rack of rings for Alanis to inspect. She picks up one and tries it on, examining her hand afterwards.

“So when will that video get posted?” Val asks.

“I think Appie will post it on Friday.” She studies the ring on her finger before putting it back and picking up another one. “We should be mutuals!”

“I’d like that,” Valentine grins at Alanis and pulls out her phone, opening tik tok and handing her phone to her. Alanis lets her follow both her and Apsons accounts, Val asks to be mutuals on instagram too.

“There!” Alanis says while handing Val’s phone back to her, “You can message me whenever you want to.”

how it’s going:

The sun shines bright outside of Joosts window, he stirs back and forth for a few minutes before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is his Stitch plushie sitting on the other side of the bed, staring at him. He reaches out and grabs it, bringing it to his chest and squeezes it in a bear hug.

“Goedenmorgen.” Joost grumbles while stretching, his head hurts slightly from a long night of drinking but mostly from the way the sun won’t leave his face.

He rolls over onto his back, picking up Stitch again, he stares at the plush toy for a while with his tired eyes, wondering if he’s weird for talking to it or cuddling with it every night. Wondering if that even matters at all. Wondering if it secretly means something about how lonely he is.

But Joost would do anything not to think about that subject, so he tosses Stitch aside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. It’s already passed 2pm and he’s missed at least 15 text messages between his friends.

Stuntje: “You coming out tonight again?” Stuntje: “Bro? U good?”

Tantu: “Beat coming along nicely👍” *1 image attatched*

Apson: “Made a banger post on tik tok! 😂” Apson: “Please leave me a like boys, I bled for this one! 💀” -tap to see more notifications-

Joost sighs through his nose, opening the tik tok app, his therapist has been trying to get him to stay off tik tok first thing in morning but he can’t help it, especially not when his best friend just posted. It’s also not technically morning anymore.

He watches the funny dog video that pops up on his FYP first, liking it and scrolling to the next video. It’s some level 99 brain-rot meme about skibbity rizz in Ohio, he chuckles and leaves a like before scrolling. The next video is an ad and he instantly scrolls. Apsons video finally pops up:

@ apsonarmy posted 1hr. tagged: @ v4lent1ne @ aprilsclosetNL

emos be like 😂💔💀🤘 #emo #poser 10k likes

202 comments

1k shares

There’s big text on the top of the screen that says “EMOS BE LIKE 🧛”, and there’s Apson, fully looking like an e-boy, pretending to be moody and mysterious.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….”

Joost smiles, immediately liking the post. He watches his friend act on screen as the video plays, chuckling as his friends line delivery keeps getting more and more over-the-top with each sentence. And then the camera pans and he sees this girl on screen, she’s wearing tight, leather, flared pants, a grommet belt with a silver star belt buckle, a cute little cropped graphic tee that shows off her midriff, and some silver chains hanging around her neck.

“Such a fucking poser.” She sneers, her voice ablaze with attitude.

Joosts eyebrows shoot up, she has the most beautifully sharp eyes he’s ever seen, and this head full of thick, fiery hair, glossy lips, and gorgeous makeup. She was undeniable, whoever she was. The type of beauty that would end up in every magazines “Top 100 Most Beautiful Women Of All Time” list—No, Top 50, maybe even Top 10. And yet as soon as she was on screen, she was off. The camera points back at Apson’s dramatic reaction. Joost watches as the chaos unfolds when Apson begins running, trips, falls, nearly gets hit by a bike, screams “no” while lying on the streets of Amsterdam, and clutches his bleeding arm.

The video loops…and Joost watches it again. And again. And again. He’s actually not sure how many times he lets it play before the low battery notification snaps him out of his daze. He quickly taps it away, using his thumb to scroll back to the part where the girl calls Appie a poser. He pauses the video when her face is fully in frame and clears the tik tok display. She was breathtaking—literally, Joost was unintentionally holding his breath. He sat there enamored for a while, then brought the display back, checking the “tagged” portion of the caption to see her there, @ v4lent1ne.

Joost clicks on her profile so fast, just to be severely let down when he sees she only has one video available on her profile. He reads her bio;

“Valentine, 27, Designer, Amsterdam.”

221 32 101 Following Followers Likes

Followed by a link to the April’s Closet website. She hadn’t bothered to link her instagram to her tik tok. He clicks on the video, it’s just a cute little tik tok of her lip syncing to Korn in a nice outfit and beautiful trad-goth makeup, the date says it’s almost a year old. She doesn’t seem to have as much of that spark within her as she did in Appies video, maybe it’s because she was just acting for that, but she looked thinner in this old tik tok, maybe more tired somehow. He scrolled away once it looped.

“Valentine…” Joost sighed out loud, letting the name roll off his tongue while admiring her in her tiny profile picture. He went back to Appie’s video and opened up the comments, typing out “I agree, bros not emo, bros a POSER 🤣😂👍🔥” He immediately liked his own comment upon sending it.

Joost realized it was suddenly stiflingly hot under his blanket and that damn sun was still shining brightly on his face. He tossed the blanket off of him, letting the cool air of his room hit his skin, he looked down and saw he was half hard. “Shit…” Joost groaned.

He hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he caught his own gaze in the mirror, messy bedhead, stubble growing in, dirty blonde roots showing through his bleached hair. A mess. But nothing a good shave and shower couldn’t fix.

Joost turned the faucet on in the shower, letting the water run for a minute while stepping out of yesterday’s boxers. His cock sprung free, hanging somewhere between half limp and nearly hard. His pink tip was blushing at him, begging him to give it a little attention. It’s been a week since he last jerked off anyway, might as well take care of it, Joost thought as stepped under the warm water.

He let the water run down his body, rinsing away yesterday’s sweat from the bar, yesterday’s arguments with festival bookings, yesterday’s dull thoughts that kept him numb and unhappy. All that mattered right now was his pretty dick perking up under the warmth of the water and what he was going to do with it.

Joost ran his fingers through his pubic hair, scratching lighting at the forest of hair there, slowly moving down to squeeze it at the base. He had no intentions of teasing himself today, but he couldn’t think of anything worth fantasizing about just yet. Perhaps a familiar pair of lips came to mind but he quickly stubbed out that thought. Too fresh. It was one video. He shouldn’t.

But as Joost slowly pumped his fist around his length, his mind kept wandering back to those same features, he couldn’t help but picture her—Valentine, apparently—gazing at him, watching him jerk off. Her eyes squinted at him, watching him jerk his cock faster now at the thought of her, she’d sneer at him the same way she did in Appie’s video.

“What a loser…jerking off to some random girl you just found on the internet? Pathetic.” He pictured her saying.

Joost wondered what her skin would feel like, what her skin would smell like—he stopped touching himself and pumped some body wash into his hand and lathered it on his cock, careful not to get any inside. The smell was obviously familiar to him, masculine and clean and filled the steam around him with its scent. It would do for now. He could picture Valentine smelling like this as he closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing in front of her, nude, while she was in that same outfit from Appie’s tik tok. He approached her, towering over her, though he couldn’t possibly know how tall she is, he looked down at her and her eyes flicked to his lips.

It’s barely even a lewd fantasy but Joost is stroking himself so fucking fast to it, the soap forming slippery suds under his hand with every long pump he takes. He wants to lean in and kiss her neck, right against her pulse, fuck—he can feel his own pulse in his cock right now. Valentine’s would match his. He cups her jaw and sticks his thumb in her mouth, she gladly suckles on it, it makes him moan out loud, “Fuuuck-“

Valentine sinks, slowly, so slowly, to her knees and looks into Joosts eyes. Joost is massaging the head of his dick now, he’s so close to cumming, just needs a little more. In his mind she takes him into her soft hand, enjoying the weight and warmth of him in her palm. And finally, she leans in to capture his tip between her gorgeous lips. Those fucking lips. With that, Joost is moaning and stroking himself so fast he is coming undone. His white ropes hit the bottom of the shower and get slowly washed away into the drain. He fucks into his fist, mind erratically imagining Valentine in a number of situations as Joost cums. Rapid flashing of doggy style, cowgirl, her tits covered in his cum, she’s just as breathless and red in the face as he is!

He uses his other hand to prop himself up against the wall, panting as the last beads of cum roll down his reddened tip. Breathlessly, Joost returns to reality, he drops his cock from his hand and lets the water beat against body. He’s less tense that’s for sure, but there’s a weird sense of guilt about it, Joost promises himself to never fantasize about her again. And he doesn’t. At least not while jerking off.

The first few days after Appie posted the tik tok, Joost would sometimes go back and watch it, but after a week, he became too busy. He forced Valentine out of his head. The weird, unfinished picture of her he created would still materialize from time to time, but she altogether slipped from his mind as the weeks and even months had gone by.

how its going to go:

“Fuck,” Joost pants looking down at V, her lips are swollen and wet with their combined spit as Joost had all but swallowed her whole, the flavor of her grape lip gloss coating his tongue. Joost’s cock twitches in his boxers, “You know, the first time I saw you in Appie’s video you gave me a boner?”

Val lets out a strained laugh from her breathlessness, “Really?” Her fingers reach up to trace his mustache, the pads of her fingers barely grazing the skin of his lips. It feels like the touch of an angel.

“Ja.” Joost nods, still staring, kissing at her fingertips.

A low, erotic hum emanates from her chest, “I guess it was meant to be then.”

Something flashes in Joosts eyes when she says that, something so deep, it was like watching his brain chemistry change in real time. “You were made for me…” He whispers before dipping his head into the crook of V’s neck and teething a hard bite into her soft skin.

[more coming soon ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜] -ego⋆♱✮

[juiles]

Christmas with the moms

Requested: no

Summary: christmas with our family

Tags: fluff, christmas

Triggers: one mention of the red room.

Requests here. Masterlist here. Tag list here.

A/N: i’m baaaaaaaaaack.

Y/n POV

I sat staring at the giant green tree in front of me, unsure of what was going on. My moms had mentioned something about Christmas but I had no idea what that was. When they came in carrying a couple of boxes I finally looked up at them in confusion. “What is all this again?” I asked quietly, picking at my finger nails. I hated that i didn’t know what this was because it seemed so normal for everyone else.

“It’s Christmas detka.” Wanda said distracted as she put the box down and opened it up looking through. I simply hummed as Natasha did the same. They started placing little figurines and balls on the tree as well as some lights.

I didn’t know what to say. What to do besides watch them. Natasha put on some music that kept mentioning this Christmas thing. I had a faint smile on my face as i watched the two of them dance around together as they placed things all around the room.

It wasn’t until Wanda spotted me that she paused, looking at me quizzically, her head tilting slightly, confusion all over her face. “Why aren’t you helping detka?”

“I- well i-“ I stuttered out trying to blink back the tears that were forming. “I-“ I picked at my nails as i dropped my gaze, the tears finally breaking through. How could i tell them i have no idea what they are talking about or what’s going on? It seems like such a normal thing. The rest of the team had been talking about it recently as well. I was the only one who didn’t understand.

I felt a pair of hands grab mine as my vision blurred from the tears. One of the hands cupped my chin and pulled my head up to face them, I blinked once allowing the tears to fall and saw the face of my sokovian mother. “Darling. What’s going on? Why the tears?”

We both looked over at Natasha when we heard her whisper. “She doesn’t know what Christmas is… how could I forget?” She sat beside me, and placed an arm over my shoulder. “I am so sorry malyshka. I should have remembered.” I nodded looking back down at my hands that were currently being held by Wanda’s soft hands, her thumb stroking the back of my hand subconsciously.

“In the r- that place where i was raised, we didn’t do christmas. i didn’t have a life before there…” I muttered, more tears falling, sniffling afterwards. Wanda almost fell, barely catching herself as she looked at me. “It looks fun I just… don’t know what to do.” I shrugged.

“Oh detka… i didn’t know… i’m so sorry…” Wanda said cupping my face, her thumb wiping the tears. “It’s alright. We’ll tell you all about it. Hmm?”

I felt Natasha hold me just a little tighter as I nodded looking at my blue eyed mother. “Please momma.” A small smile graced her face as she sat on the other side of me.

They explained the story of how christmas came to be and I was left with more questions. “So… we celebrate for what exactly?” I asked, my brain going a mile a minute.

“We, as your parents, celebrate Christmas for being together, for getting to be our family and be with each other. For love and happiness. This year, we’re celebrating you detka. Your first christmas with us, you being our daughter.” Natasha said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I smiled widely at that and looked up at them. “To being together.” I whispered before throwing myself into her arms. “A family mama.”

“A family malyshka.” She responded, kissing my head. Wanda then pulled me over and kissed my head as well.

“For everything you have overcome this year. And your life.” She said smoothing my hair down. I nodded looking over at the tree that they finished. “We’re just missing the star at the top of the tree detka. Would you like to put it on?” Wanda asked walking over to the box. She pulled out a silver star with gold details on it.

Natasha’s POV

Wanda and I were so excited for our first christmas with our daughter. We had brought the tree yesterday and today we brought out the decorations. “What is all this again?” I heard a soft whisper come from the young girl on the couch.

“It’s christmas detka.” Wanda replied as she dug through the box she had brought in. I went over to the radio after hearing a small hum and put on a christmas music playlist. Wanda and I started decoration the tree, we got so caught up with the music and dancing and decorating, neither of us noticed that y/n wasn’t helping.

Wanda stopped and tilted her head making me stop. “Why aren’t you helping Detka?” She asked, I turned to face the young girl and my heart froze as her green eyes teared up.

“I well- I” She looked down and i noticed tears starting to fall. “I-“ My heart stopped as I realized what was happening. She didn’t know. She didn’t know what christmas was or the traditions or anything. Of course she doesn’t. She was raised purely in the red room. Like me, she had no life before and unlike me, she never went on missions that were over a christmas.

“She doesn’t know what Christmas is… how could I forget that?” I muttered, a lump forming in my throat. How could I have forgotten? That was such a rookie move! She must feel awful! I ran over to her and sat beside her, one arm naturally drifting up and holding her shoulders. “I am so sorry malyshka. I should have remembered.”

“In the r- that place where i was raised, we didn’t do christmas. I didn’t have a life before there…” She mumbled, Wanda stumbled when she heard that. “It looks fun I just… don’t know what to do.” She shrugged slightly making my arm go up slightly.

“Oh detka… i didn’t know… i’m so sorry…” Wanda said cupping her face, her thumb wiping the tears. “It’s alright. We’ll tell you all about it. Hmm?”

I pulled our daughter a little closer to me as she stared at my girlfriend with hope in her eyes. “Please momma.” Wanda smiled as she sat next to the girl.

Wanda’s POV

My heart shattered as the sweet girl in front of me told me about not knowing about Christmas.

After we told her about christmas, she naturally had some questions. “So… we celebrate for what exactly?” She asked and i could practically see her brain going a mile a minute.

“We, as your parents, celebrate Christmas for being together, for getting to be our family and be with each other. For love and happiness. This year, we’re celebrating you detka. Your first christmas with us, you being our daughter.” Natasha said tucking a strand of hair behind our daughter’s ear. My heart melting at the words she spoke.

Y/n smiled widely at that and looked up at us. “To being together.” She whispered before throwing myself into Nat’s arms. “A family mama.”

“A family malyshka.” Nat responded, kissing her head. I then pulled her over and kissed her head as well.

“For everything you have overcome this year. And your life.” I said smoothing her crazy hair down. She nodded looking over at the tree that we had finished. “We’re just missing the star at the top of the tree detka. Would you like to put it on?” I asked walking over to the box. I smiled and pulled out a silver star with gold details on it. A star that reminded me of our beautiful girl.

“We had it specially made for this year.” I said looking at the three initials engraved into the middle. N, W, Y. Our little family.

Y/n looked up at me and cautiously stood, making her way over to me, i held it down so she could see and the biggest smile we had seen in a while graced her face. “That’s my initial there too!” She said, her eyes shining like the star she now held in her hands. She looked excitedly between Natasha and I before she looked up at the tree.

Nat came over and scooped her up, placing her on her shoulder, a squeak coming from the younger girl. She placed the star on top and as Nat put her down, i wrapped my arms around her and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Perfect. Just like our girl.”

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part Two

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah and Terry continue with they left off. But something stops Savannah leaving her unsure if what was supposed to be the perfect night is now ruined.

[PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Warnings/Things of Note: Slightly NSFW/NSFT (moaning, kissing, nipple play I guess...), fluff and comfort, playful teasing, anxiety, dissociation, mentions of disability, sex and trauma, intense ass eye contact and staring (it might turn into kink if you squint a lil bit), Switch!Terry (not really but we shall see...), people wearing masks (surgical, kn95, n95), shoutout to the library!

Really though, if you dissociate and/or have trouble staying present in your body, for any reason and/or you be feeling things too much and it make you wanna dissociate, proceed with caution. While it's cool to see yourself reflected in writing, it can also be disorienting. So. Before you read. I want you to have some grounding tools near by and take breaks as you need them.

Word count: 3K+ (3,679 WTF?!?!?! YAY ME)

Author's Note: Okay, yall. Here is the second part. This thing is long! I'm typing this in drafts right now on my computer. I have to copy and paste in into docs because I have no clue what the actual word count is (That shit was 10 pages when i pasted it in WORD!)

Thank you sooo sooo much everyone for your support. I'm glad you enjoyed the first part. Highkey...it's giving series cuz the things I imagined>>>> I'm a covid conscious girlie who still be masking outside so it's been a minute for me in this department! Trying to use my imagination and conjure the connections I know people are seeking, navigating the world like I do. So as i use my big brain, it'll pop up in my writing. If you wanna see more, let me know so I can add you to the taglist. I'm not touching this again til November! I got grad school apps to submit!

I hope you enjoy!

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

As Terry returned to what he and Savannah both realized was her sweet spot, he indulged himself to hear Savannah’s moans over & over; each one differing in pitch and tone. Applying the pressure of his tongue to the spot and up to her earlobe, she made a low moan. And Terry felt as she pulled him closer. The feel of her long nails caressing his shaved head and neck and her sounds were bliss. The apprehension and embarrassment that Savannah had previously felt, were gone now. They were replaced with incessant need, incessant hunger. The need to feel this man on her, with her, inside her —skin under skin. The contact he gave her was none like no other. She let the sounds of pleasure spill from her mouth as Terry obliged her to.

As of this moment, Savannah was tapped into her body. The feeling was overwhelming but it wasn’t too much. When Terry came up for air, he looked into Savannah’s eyes, deep dark brown satellites. They marveled in comparison to how she described his planets. The look on her face was one he’d never seen before but was honored to know he helped put it there. She let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

Terry chuckled with a smirk, “I am.”

At the next thought, Savannah sheepishly smiled and looked away. Terry brought his hand to her chin once again, slightly nudging her to look at him.

“What?” Terry said with a smug ass grin, admiring the woman before him.

Savannah looked down with her eyes and flitted them back to Terry’s.

“I don’t know if I can ask you this.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” Terry slow blinked as he responded to Savannah.

She took his left hand from her chin and placed it on her chest, “Can you touch me here?” Grabbing his other hand, she added “and here?”

Terry said, “I can. What would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Savannah replied, focusing fully on Terry’s now bright eyes, while she bit her deep, brownish pink bottom lip. Terry took those words and massaged her chest. She was still wearing her black high neck tank top, the opposite to Terry’s gray one. When he squeezed, she let out a hiss. Terry took his thumbs and massaged what he felt were the outline of her nipples. At that, Savannah let out a “fuck”. Terry stopped, looking at Savannah, waiting for her eyes to open. Her dark brown skin was gleaming with the slight sweat she’d worked up.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said lowly, eyes heavy lidded with hunger. And so, Savannah was determined to maintain eye contact with Terry—to eventually be the one to win one of these staring contests. As he flicked his thumb in slow circles over her nipples, Savannah felt herself floating away. The feeling was good. Too good. Maybe too overwhelming. She was getting lost in the feeling. A new one, but overwhelming nonetheless. She was trying to stay here, stay present in this body. Her thoughts were interrupted by Terry squeezing her right shoulder. She blinked and focused back onto the objects inside of the room. The TV atop the dresser and the music sounding from it. The light on across the hall. Her clothes on THEE chair™️, and making them center back on Terry’s face.

Terry had seen Savannah enjoying the feeling, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, excitement and trying to maintain her focus on him. He wasn’t gonna lie. It gave him an ego boost. But then, he saw her eyes go in a slightly different direction. Her voice, her body still responding to his movements but her mind had gone elsewhere. Her eyes had glazed over and it made him stop.

“Savannah,” he squeezed her right shoulder again, “Savannah, baby.”

Her eyes found his again and her face contorted into a frown. You could see the disappointment on her face. Whatever feelings that were coming up for her right now, he wanted to make space for them —to make space for her.

“What is it?” Terry uttered softly.

Savannah shook her head from side to side. She kissed her teeth softly and said, “It was really nice. It felt good. It felt really good.”

Terry nodded wordlessly as he kept his hand on her shoulder, alternating light squeezes while he massaged it.

Savannah continued, “I felt too much. Not that anything you did was bad or wrong. It was perfect actually. Really really perfect.” She wanted to reassure him.

Terry gave her a small smile, “But?” he added.

“I felt it too much. It felt too good. And I think—“ she cut herself off. She thought what? That she couldn’t do this? That this might be harder than she thought it’d be? She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to think or even say or talk about herself as being too much. She’d done so much work already to remove that from her vocabulary, from seeing herself that way.

And Terry never did.

She hoped he wouldn’t now.

“I think that because the feeling—because EYE felt the feelings so intensely, I was so in my body, paying attention to everything. And that was scary. I think I got scared. I think we got scared.” The we in question was her body. The both of them were still navigating this together and it was difficult.

Savannah hadn’t even noticed the single tear that spilled onto her cheek until Terry wiped it away.

It was clear today that she would not be the winner of any of these staring contestants. 

Focusing on Terry and talking about this, made it too difficult. Eyes darting around the room as she talked, mostly because she didn’t want to see him. To see if the look on his face would change at all to pity. She couldn’t bear it. She hoped not.

Terry’s heart broke a little. But he made sure to maintain his steel of softness for Savannah. He didn’t want to speak too soon, speak over her, or imply anything that may not be true. He just wanted her to talk, to tell him what she needed. And he would help her in whatever way he knew how.

“I don’t want you to think,” Savannah said finally braving to make eye contact with Terry. Her nostrils were flaring and she was trying to keep her voice level. She didn’t want it break. But it did. “Less of me.”

At that statement though, Terry had to interrupt.  “I don’t think less of you.” Savannah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t,” he doubled down and countered in a firm tone.

Savannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed loudly. Not at Terry. Not even at herself but just at the situation. When Savannah could not find the words to say, Terry decided to speak some more.

“I don’t think less of you. I never could but especially not because of this. You told me that you needed—that we needed to take it slow. Like I said, you are in control.” He took a pause. “ I’m with you because I like you. I like you because of you. This,” he picked up her hands, pointing his chin to their hands and to Savannah. “means something to me. You are important to me.” He squeezed her hands for emphasis.

As he considered his next words, there was  silence between the two of them. Savannah had briefly removed one of her hands and used the bottom of her palm to wipe her eyes. She joined hands with Terry again, as the two lay side to side, knees facing inward. Music was faintly playing in the background. 

It was a simple yet hypnotic melody. In fact, that’s why they’d let it repeat over and over. It was Terry’s choice. And it was definitely going to be up there on his Spotify Wrapped. 

When he first heard it, Savannah had immediately come to his mind. She was definitely special and knew it immediately when he’d come across her. 

—

Savannah was oblivious in her own world when he crossed her path. He was awestruck. 

It was the sound of her voice that piqued his interest first. He heard her before he saw her. After locking his bike out front, he walked through the library’s sliding doors. He’d heard it as the metal song he’d been listening to was fading out. She was at a table explaining something to the group of people in front of her. There was something about her voice that was soothing and captivating. Taking his buds out ear by ear, he was able to hear her voice in its fullness. He didn’t have the first clue about how the nutritional value of frozen fruit and vegetables was just as good as fresh, but he’d listen more to find out. 

Staring in her direction, he was immediately taken by her. She’d been wearing a bright pink bandana over her hair put in a thick low puff. Clear, purple glasses over deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Thin, oversized hoops framed her face. The rest of it he couldn’t see because she was wearing mask. It was a white one with blue straps. It made him scrunch his face in curiosity, especially because most of the library patrons he could see weren’t wearing any. He’d done a quick ocular scan of the space from periphery to main fields of vision. Yup. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group wearing a mask at all. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them the in different colors—white, black, pink green. He wasn’t wearing one either. But no mind that, he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. 

She was wearing an orange crochet cardigan with a white ribbed shirt. The shirt was stretched over her large chest and tucked into black stretchy yoga pants. 

The thick waistband outlined the roundness of her soft belly. They hugged her wide-set hips that framed her full thighs.  The rest of the material flared out at her knees, covering her white and light brown running shoes.

It was at the appraisal of her lower half that made Terry let out what he thought was a mental, “Damn,” and considered what behind might look like. He realized that was not the case when the library worker at the front desk cleared their throat loud enough for Terry to hear and get the hint. He whipped his head in their direction, smiling apologetically and nervously with wide eyes and thin lips. He was being a man, in a way he was NOT proud of right now.

“Sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone?” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear he needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. He thanked them and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

—

Lizzie’s voice was crooning on the song’s fourth verse, fading out the memory 

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

“You are important to me,” he repeated “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about it. Because it wouldn’t be true. I care about whatever affects you, however it affects you.” He was looking down at her, the pair’s eyes a perfect match of earth, water and soil. Her eyes didn’t leave his this time, despite the silly face Terry made to break the tension in the room.

Savannah laughed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting better at keeping up with him. Maybe one day she would win one of these staring contests, he pretended not to know about. Attagirl.

“You can take however long you and your body need to adjust, to get back into it.  Take your time, baby.” he rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb at her cheek “The loving ain’t going nowhere.” he said with wide grin, while Savannah let out a short, spluttering laugh. 

“Okay, Mary J Blige,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward, staring at no place in particular.

“I got you,” Terry said booping Savannah’s nose.

“You got what?” she said with in an incredulous look on his face

“You,” he emphasized, “You can’t keep eyes on me.”

Savannah waved his hand from her face, the gold, medical bracelet glinting in the light. “Boy, bye.” She twisted at her waist to reach for her glasses on the nightstand. When she faced Terry again he was supporting himself up with his left hand, while his right one propped his head. Terry was staring at her as if he were enchanted. He’d always stare at her like that. And Savannah couldn’t believe that he still was, especially after how tonight went. He was making her feel all self-conscious and shit. Damn him and his fuck ass, color-changing eyes.

“What?” Terry said softly, cutting off her thoughts

“Fuck you and your fucking eyes”, Savannah playful shoved his shoulder.

“Why you say fuck me for?” Terry said aloud after letting out a laughter of shock, thick eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“Because!” Savannah retorted, mirroring Terry’s expression and previous tone.

“Because what?” Terry said now in a softer tone, while squinting at her. He’d reached out for her hand again without looking. She accepted it and Terry interlocked his fingers with hers. It made Savannah smile, clearly showing because her eyes never left his.

This man was gonna be her undoing, she was sure of it. And he was sure she’d be his.

“So,” Savannah paused, while she focused on the feeling of the small circles Terry rubbed on the back of her clasped hand. “I didn’t ruin tonight?” she asked, avoiding Terry’s original question. Her left arm was bent at the elbow on her pillows, mirroring Terry while he was now lower than her. She felt Terry shift and then his hand on her knee. He slightly dipped his head, green-gray eyes asking for permission. Savannah nodded her head yes, and she felt Terry gently grab the back of her right knee, pulling it closer to him. Savannah loved the way the skin his rough textured palm felt against the soft smoothness of her legs. And Terry couldn’t get over how soft and delicate her skin was. Especially when he grazed her sides, feeling her rolls and ripples. It was supple and satin-like. He was grateful for the privilege he was allowed in getting to touch her. In allowing him to do anything with her. He’d do anything she’d ask in return.

“You did not,” Terry said. “I got to spend time with you. I got feel and caress you.” He demonstrated by caressing the back of her thigh. “I got to learn more about the sounds you make when you’re really feeling good ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Savannah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Terry kissed his teeth, holding in his smirk. “See, there you go again.” he said in a light teasing tone. It was Savannah’s turn to kiss her teeth.

“Ok, but to be fair, today should NOT be counted!” She butted in holding a pointed finger upward

“Nigga, nobody is counting!” Terry laughed out. 

“What do you mean, nobody’s counting? YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE!” she exclaimed in shock and amusement. She wasn’t upset or angry. She felt…vindicated. Vindicated at the fact this mf WAS doing this shit on purpose! Ooh, Terry. When you I catch you, Terry! When I catch you Terry!

Now, Terry didn’t wanna look Savannah in her eyes. He was being shy and evasive and shit. Looking around the room, now that she found him out. He could feel the heat rising to cheeks. Not him blushing over this. Savannah lightly tugged his chin upward towards her.

“Nah, pretty boy. Eyes up here. This is what you wanted right?” Savannah had said, genuinely teasing him. He knew she didn’t mean anything else behind those words, just getting him back for the sake of getting him back. But the way she said them, while grabbing his chin made him feel something. He’d have to return to that thought another time. The firm squeeze she added, and the pressure from the tips of her naturally long nails, to grab his attention again didn’t help.

Savannah was looking at him expectedly, one eyebrow arched with lips slightly parted.

“I mean…” Terry trailed off. He did love staring at her. Yeah, he got a thrill from how any look he gave her she had a reaction to. But it really was her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, iris and pupil ringed in black. They were a cat-like almond shape. Sharp and alluring without meaning too. When she lined them with different colors, it only made them more striking. He could help but admire them and admire her, like one would the moon. Intrinsically and reverently.

“…you got some nice ass eyes. Be distracting a nigga and shit.” Terry chuckled trying not to be the chalant nigga he very much was and Savannah let out a low cackle.

“Heh, hey.” she took that moment to clap her hands slowly, alternating her hands so that palms touched fingertips and fingertips touched palms. Swiping away some of the doubt and insecurity in her head. It made her get a big one.

Whew! Savannah didn’t know she’d be able to relate to Victoria Monét when she sang it, but making niggas feel a way is a forté really. Well, shit. She wasn’t gonna feel guilty about using his face and his eyes as the last thing she’d sense in her grounding practice anymore. And, she was making him fold like he made her fold? Nah, the game was on. She was committed to winning a few of these stare-downs and she was gonna come out on top, one way or another.

“Anyways, back to what you were saying much earlier.” Savannah ushered him to continue after they’d gotten hella distracted and off course. She appreciated the levity Terry added to the moment for her sake. But Savannah really did need to know that she didn’t ruin tonight and that she shouldn’t feel bad when they woke up tomorrow. She wasn’t in love him yet, but she needed to know, that if it happened —when it happened, a voice in her head said—That he would validate and reassure her when this would come up again. Because it would. Come up again. 

“Like I was saying,” Terry extended the first syllable of the last word for exaggerated effect. It earned him a giggle. “We got to pause and ground together, when we both needed it.” Savannah gave him a slight eyebrow raise. 

Terry began to rub at the back of his neck when he admitted, “I read online that light yet firm pressure could be helpful in helping a partner stay present.” Savannah’s face softened in surprise and endearment. Oh shit! Not him doing self-directed research!

So that’s why he was doing those squeezes and circles!

He continued hesitantly, “Yeah. I was just looking up different articles, going to different websites and other people’s accounts and stuff talking about disability, sex and trauma, you know. I just wanted to make sure I could help you feel as comfortable as possible. And you know, I got kinda nervous too cuz i was like, ‘I don’t know if Im fucking up or doing too much’ so I was stopping when I needed to too.” Terry was rambling nervously and it was so cute and sweet. She couldn’t believe he did that for her. And also that what he found helped him too.

“But yeah, nothing was ruined. I got to be here with you. And see what it was like when you start floating away,” he ended in a singysong way, wiggling his fingers for emphasis looking nowhere in particular.

Terry made sure to snap his head back to Savannah’s. He reached up for her face, his thumb slowly moving up and near her chin and lips. At that, she took a hand and draped it behind Terry’s neck. She used her nails to make slow, stroking movements at the across the length of his neck. She wanted to make sure she heard what Terry was saying.

“But I want you know, that I’ll be right here with you on earth. No matter where you go, wherever you go.” Terry stated firmly. He had an earnest look in his eyes. His, tinged with grey among blue-green ocean waves, moving in sync with hers, being compelled by the draw of her deep brown moons shining with black rings. The tides of feeling and connection present between the two were unmistakable. Undeniable.

Savannah knew that he meant every word. 

And it was scary as hell. 

She hadn’t had someone feel so sure about her in this way, in a long time.

But she wanted to see it through anyways, whatever this would become with time. She hadn’t told him everything, just enough to be in the know. And he took that information and built on it. For them. For her.

Savannah slightly lowered her head towards Terry, hovering her lips right over his. Her chain dangling over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his lips. 

“Nothing is ever too much for you,” he whispered back.

And so the tides crashed, leading their lips to softly touch together. Melting with the hopes for the future and the celestial of their current now.

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

Author's Note Pt 2: Comments, questions and suggestions are so welcome (please be nice to me tho 🥺 👉🏿 👈🏿) I did try to revise this one and edit it for real for real. If there are any errors let me know.

If you're wondering how he got Savannah out that mask...you gotta keep reading. If you wanna be added to the taglist without getting all my other NSFW reblogs, please lemme know in the replies.

Also I hope that those of you who needed to or still need to take some breaks and do some grounding cuz reading may have been a lot, please do that. Slowly blink your eyes open and close. Stretch your fingers, wrists, arms, and neck. Hell, your whole body. Drink some water. Grab a snack. Put on a mood uplifting song. <3

Also if you somebody like me, who still be masking when they be outside, im writing this for you extra!

For anyone who need it, let this work be a manifestation for the dynamics you desire, that are aligned with you in all ways, with no doubts or questions. May the Divine deliver and you recognize them upon arrival. You got this, boo! 😉

Okay thank you for coming to my TED Talk 🥰 See y'all on the dash

Part 3

[umathurwin]

my boy’s a winner, he loves the game

kiara carrera x rafe cameron; nsfw 18+

Summary: Kiara has a big favor to ask of Rafe. Who is he to not oblige?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

The clinking of metal weights and Rafe’s music filled the crisp air. Every few seconds, another grunt would reverb around the gym and Kiara poked her head out further so she’d be in his line of sight.

“Kie?” he asked, dropping his 45s on the squishy floor mat, where they bounced and rolled away. “Y’scared me. Need something?”

She closed the door behind her, checking once more that no one was listening. Sarah had started another argument with John B, so it could be a while before Kiara had to return to her friend’s bedroom.

Kie swallowed thickly. “Yes, actually. It’s kind of weird, and a big thing to ask, so I need you to ignore how crazy it is for me to come to you about this.”

“You’re looking to try snow,” he nodded solemnly, reaching down for his water bottle and twisting the cap open.

“What?! No!”

He froze. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You want to try k?”

“I don’t want any drugs, Rafe.”

His posture corrected and he brought the bottle to his mouth. “Oh. Then what?”

As he drank, several cold droplets slipped out of his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto his chest and dry fit shirt. Even in the chill at which the Camerons held their home gym, he was sweating. His smell washed over her. His eyes followed hers as she ogled him, nearly forgetting why she was there.

“Wanna hook up?” she blurted, unsure of how else to word it. Can we have sex felt too formal. Will you fuck me probably would’ve sufficed, but she lacked the bite. Especially with this lupine in front of her, reducing her to a doe-eyed stutterer.

He pulled the lip away from his mouth and used the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe off the mess from his face. This time, her eyes remained fixed north of his shoulders.

“Hmm. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Well?” she snapped, growing more edgy (and humiliated) by the second. She probably should’ve expected that he wouldn’t make this easy on her.

“Can I think about it? Oh my God…” he hollowly chastised. “If you’re gonna be this impatient when I’m inside you…”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Rafe!”

“I’m just messing with you. What’s got you so desperate? Haven’t been laid in a while?” Her eyes widened, and he connected the dots instantly. “Oh, no way. Never? How is that even possible? You’re…” Rafe waved a hand at her, but trailed off when he gained the wisdom to not comment on her appearance or how it related to her virginity.

“I just… didn’t want it to be bad. Figured I’d go to someone with at least some knowledge on the topic.”

“Really? And none of your little boys were valid candidates?”

She huffed through her nose. “That’s hilarious. Let’s go down the list together: we have the self-obsessed conspiracy theorist, the loose cannon who speaks more than he thinks, and the nerd who’s a bigger goddamn virgin than I am.”

Rafe hesitated. “Okay, I know the last one is Pope—”

“Point is,” Kiara interrupted, cutting eyes at him. “You probably can’t fathom vulnerability, and I’m really just looking for a yes or a no so I can decide if I’m gonna kill myself tonight—”

“Wow, the drama. Twist my arm a little more, why don’t you?” he said flatly. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real Saint Nick. Give me your phone,” Rafe demanded, palm open and extended to her.

She recoiled. “You’re not… gonna film it, are you?”

He processed this and a grin spread across his face. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna fuck you right now. I’m giving you my number so you don’t have to sneak around my little sister to see me.”

The confidence she’d built up with him crumbled instantly and the fever of mortification bloomed in her chest and face again. Kiara fumbled for her back pocket and handed him the device. “I— of course not! That’d be—”

“Hot,” he cut her off, offering a bit of peace for her. “I know.” His eyes flicked to the door and back down to her, then he texted himself an angel emoji. “But it just wouldn’t be right.”

With her phone returned one contact heavier, she tried not to trip on any benches on her way out.

***

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kiara spat, quickly climbing into the passenger seat of Rafe’s Land Rover anyways. He peeled out of the driveway, surely attracting the attention of any partygoers that had wandered outside. She slunk down into the seat. “When Sarah said she’d get me a ride home, I didn’t think it’d be you.”

Rafe shrugged, rolling through a stop sign and changing the song. “I owed her one. And no, she doesn’t suspect anything, so maybe relax a little?”

Not too difficult. One of Barry’s drivers had made it to the party, and she’d definitely brought a cloud of earthy aroma into his vehicle.

“Speaking of relaxing… you’re not drunk, right?”

“No, why do you— where are we going?” she asked as they flew past the turn to her street.

“We’re gonna use this time to get in some practice,” he said simply, and the smirk on his face did all but abate her worries.

“Wait, wait, I can’t— I mean, I’m not ready—”

“Little Miss Anxious, huh? Second time you’ve done that,” he said, shaking his head amusedly. “That’s not what this is. Do I need to promise to give you a heads up?”

“Uh, yeah, it’d be nice!”

“Nah.” He pulled the vehicle over to a nature preserve, one of the many dim and poorly-patrolled parks the island had to offer.

Rafe threw the car in park and grabbed his nic from the cup holder. He offered it to her, she declined. As he took a draw, his free hand absentmindedly patted his crotch, adjusting himself to be taken out.

She never would admit this, not to him or a locked diary or God, but she’s looked before. It’s not her fault he gets out of the pool like a slut, with his swim shorts hung low on his hips and clinging to his bulge. She’s had an idea of what he’s working with. But to watch him rub his semi through his jeans? Kiara’s head spun.

He dropped the nic again and unbuttoned his pants without warning. Her eyes widened as he tugged them down, just enough to free his cock from his boxers. She took in what she could make out in the dimness— a heavy shaft, the reddening tip, a little glisten where the pre was leaking out.

Instincts took over— ones she was entirely unaware she had— and she leaned forward to touch him, but he grabbed her wrist first and stopped her. Kie looked up, fearing she’d done something wrong.

Rafe’s eyes softened, resting a hand on her cheek and nodding gently. “Hey, listen. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

She nodded. It was the last glimpse of mercy she’d get for the night.

Once his warning was over, his big hand slipped from her face around to the back of her skull. He guided (pushed) her down until the head tapped against her lips. The salty taste hit her tongue but she had no time to process or cringe before the rest of his cock slid into her mouth.

It wasn’t long before Kie realized this wasn’t just a blowjob, but more of a face fucking. The agency wasn’t in her hands— or rather, mouth— when he was actively lifting his hips from the seat to stuff more of himself between her lips. She couldn’t even get her bearings enough to suck.

Kiara mustered enough momentum to overpower the headpushing and pulled her mouth off his cock. “You’re, God, being a little rough, don’t you think?” she asked weakly around a cough.

“You bet,” he affirmed, fixing his fist back into her hair and guiding her down again. “Need to prepare you for what you might come across in the future. Wouldn’t—fuck—be doing you any favors by being gentle, would I?”

Sure, whatever twisted logic he wanted to use to get a rough blowjob from a virgin. Rafe’s hips thrusted up again to meet where his hands locked her head in place, and she had to accept his cock down her throat. The zipper of his pants scraped the bridge of her nose and her back ached from the awkward position he’d twisted her into, but she figured complaining would only get her so far. Plus, her mouth was full.

He canted his hips forward so the tip of his cock brushed against her cheek, and his hand reached down her face to feel it from the outside. Rafe massaged the skin there, feeling the ridges of his head through it. The angle was hard for her to maintain, so he went back to pushing down her throat.

She couldn’t swallow with him in her mouth, so drool began to seep out and sullied his pants. Her hands pushed against his thighs and he let up, tugging her off his crotch and watching the string of spit that connected them.

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry I’m making such a mess,” she apologized through wet coughs. Rafe laughed and said nothing, but he grabbed his cock and smeared her own spit onto her face. Kiara squealed and tried to back away but he wasn’t done with her.

Eventually, he had enough trust to let her do her own work. Her jaw burned from the stretch, but the hand on her head was only resting there as she forwent keeping it all clean.

He came, hard, if the noises he made were any indicator. The sensation of his twitching cock against her tongue was fascinating, but he must not have wanted to give her the chance to spit. With her nose pressed against his pelvis, his cock for perfectly down her throat and spilled his seed there.

Kiara coughed and sputtered when he finally released her and she could breathe again. “Fucking hell, Rafe, what’s the plan for real sex? You gonna bring out a chainsaw?”

“That was real sex.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and find out then, huh?”

Kiara narrowed her eyes, looking to the small backseat. “What do you mean, wait? You’re not gonna reciprocate or anything? How is that f—?”

“Look, I know you’re new to this and all, so consider this a lesson: I’m gonna need a fuckin’ minute to get the feeling back in my extremities. And since we don’t have all night—”

He tugged her arm towards him and she awkwardly fumbled over to sit on his lap. The door pressed against her back and the steering wheel dug into her leg uncomfortably, but he continued anyways.

Kiara liked loose, linen shorts; Rafe liked them even better. He needn’t even pull them down— they were flowy and accessible enough that he could pull them and her underwear to the side and have her fully exposed for him.

Her face burned. No one had ever seen her like this before, but Rafe was more action-oriented. He cupped a hand over her bare sex, swollen and ready for him after her mouth had been fully used. His dexterous fingers played with her slit and collected the slick there, getting to know her clit and folds in the dark.

He wouldn’t have been able to see, but her eyes opened when he first pressed a finger inside. She was fully aware of how it worked, and Kie had boredly tried to fuck herself in the past, but it was never enough.

Rafe didn’t have that problem. His hands were bigger, fingers stronger, and knew how to stretch her walls around him. She mewled, and he kissed her cheek.

His fingers tucked in further and, with a palm grinding against her clit, pressed against a spot inside her that made her gasp. “Oh my God! What was that?”

He laughed a little in her ear and pulled his fingers out to slap her cunt. She whined. “Our new favorite body part of yours.”

Kiara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Our?”

Rafe took the free hand around her arm and reached over to grab at her breast. “Used to be these.”

Her body sparked and warmed at the idea of Rafe looking at her like a lecher. Deciding parts of her body were for his for ogling, grabbing, fucking. He’s always been an option for her, she just hadn’t known to ask.

The sounds her cunt made around his fingers were vile. He’d lean down to kiss her neck (but only kiss— can’t leave a mark) and she curled into his chest. She’d have more shame about the situation if she had any thoughts at all that weren’t her barreling orgasm.

When she did cum, she had to hold onto his forearm for stability. He purred into her ear about how good she was doing for him, holding her chin in place so he always had a good look at her scrunched eyes and parted lips.

He pulled his hand out from her shorts when she caught her breath, and made her watch the way strings of her cum lingered for too long. Rafe pushed those digits between her lips without warning, and swirled them around her tongue until he was adequately clean. Her legs still tingled when she slumped back into the passenger seat.

“No notes, baby, you did perfectly. Let’s get you home, hmm?”

***

Kiara’s phone automatically set to Do Not Disturb at 11 pm sharp every evening.

She wasn’t even that caught up in perfecting her sleep schedule. There were just too many nights in a row that one of her friends would drunkenly call and wake her up. Never for a good reason, like needing a ride—no, they’ll rip her from sleep to ask if a Wonka chocolate bar is red, or purple like they swore they remembered.

And they wonder why she preferred darties.

So, any messages she may receive in the witching hour would go unnoticed until the next morning. Unless, of course, the person reaching out to her is a bit more persistent.

The window creaked, and she just rolled over in bed. Her home was nearly a century old and the sandy ground below the foundation made for all kinds of bumps in the night.

What it didn’t often do, was lift the pane entirely. Kie sat up, eyes quickly adjusting to the tall body squeezing through into her bedroom.

“Jesus— Rafe?!” she asked, grabbing her chest where her heart fluttered.

“A little help?” he hissed, unable to fit the rest of the way. She sprang to his side, lifting the window a little more and guiding him inside. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to whisper. My parents are in Myrtle Beach for a wedding.”

“Well, fuck me. Would’ve been nice to know before I scaled the damn trellis. Why didn’t you respond?” he asked, pointing to the sleeping phone on her nightstand.

Kiara crossed her arms. “Didn’t get the message. Do I… need to get a first aid kit?” she asked, looking over his figure and trying not to back away like a frightened deer.

He looked down at himself. “I’m fine?”

“I meant for me! You forget the chainsaw?”

His eyebrows tightened until he remembered the night they‘d already shared, and smirked. “Oh! No, it’s not like that.”

She didn’t get to ask what he meant before he kicked off his boots and flopped onto her bed like he owned it. He wagged his fingers, beckoning her to join him, and she obeyed with a scowl. It’s her room, after all.

He pulled her down to his side, turning to face her and sliding a hand between her cheek and pillow. Rafe kissed her softly, thumbing at her skin and trailing the other hand down to her waist where it rested comfortably. Their thighs entangled and one of her fists nervously balled into his shirt.

The pair made out, much longer than she would expect he had patience for. It was delicate, verging on pure, and it sent a fire to her core in anticipation. His leg pushing between her thighs certainly didn’t hurt.

There was no hurry to undress. A shirt here, his pants there. It was like they waited until one of them lost their breath to pause and remove another article. By the time they were down to their underwear, her apprehensions reappeared.

”Slow,” she blurted, and his big blue eyes locked to hers. “We’re gonna go slow, right?” she clarified, feeling the ridges of his abs, now bare and warm under her fingers.

He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose. “M’in no rush.”

Their cores were close, she could feel the heat of his cock pressed against her hip. He pushed against her once and groaned into her mouth, then pulled away entirely and slotted himself above her.

Rafe sat back on his heels, looking at her near-naked body below her. It was hardly more skin than he was used to seeing when she swam at his house, but he hungered over her nonetheless. His fingers slipped under the hem of her panties and his eyes found hers.

“May I?”

She giggled. Perhaps because she didn’t expect that from Rafe, or maybe it was nerves. But she eked out a yes, please regardless.

With permission granted, he slid her underwear down her legs and tossed them aside, settling between her thighs and giving each a kiss.

He started gently— he spread her folds with his thumbs and licked a hard stripe up the center. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling and slammed shut, and he was gracious enough to not give her hell for this. Rafe allowed her in her own world because, well, he was in one of his own.

Had she spared a glance between her thighs, she’d see him lost in himself, nose buried into her cunt and tongue exploring every part of her. It was all slow, curious, an attempt to commit her pussy to his memory. Maybe he feared this was his only chance.

His patience built a powerful orgasm for her— the kind she could never do herself. Touching herself before was just getting a job done, but Rafe wanted it to wash over her with shaking legs and starry vision.

And Rafe always got what he wanted.

When he came up to kiss her, she tasted herself on him, but it was less intense than she expected. Maybe he was drooling too much.

She’d forgotten he still had his boxers on— too lost in cumming on his tongue. The fabric was sticking to him where precum leaked out of his tip, and he paused for only enough time to pull the elastic down under his balls. Deja vu.

Now free, his member hung menacingly between them. He took himself in hand and teased her, gliding the tip against her pulsing clit and threatening to part her folds. He lay the shaft against her and thrusted, simulating the real thing.

On one insignificant stroke, the head slipped down and notched itself against her hole. Rafe was careful, so careful pressing inside. She was wet enough that he could’ve bullied his cock into her cunt easily, but he stopped instead.

Rafe lowered himself until their noses brushed together. One hand reached up to stroke her cheek, to whisk away the tear that had pooled in the corner of her eye. He shushed, his lips brushing against her chin, her ear, her lips, anywhere he could access her skin.

“Sweetheart, please, you’ve gotta relax for me,” he whispered, voice low and warm. “You’re doing so fuckin’ good so far. Just keep letting me in.”

It was a side of the man she’d never seen before. Rafe used to twist the arms of boys who mocked her and Sarah until they screamed for mercy. He wasn’t allowed to play any contact sports in high school with his violent record. More than once, Kiara had to step around shattered glass in their home from when he’d broken tumblers in fits of rage. The blowjob from last week alone—

Tonight, his free hand found hers and threaded their fingers together. He kissed along her neck and sucked at the flesh gently. Endless praises spilled from him as his cock fully nestled inside her pulsing heat. She could feel their bodies entangling further with each breath they shared in the close space.

“Fuck it’s— so deep,” she breathed, back arching to press her bare chest against his. The angle shift forced her clit to grind against his pelvis and a whine escaped her.

“I know, baby,” he reassured and played with her tits as she readjusted. “Takin’ me so well. Can’t believe I get to be the first one to feel you like this, mm?”

She nodded, even though he wasn’t really asking her anything. Rafe’s hand, still entwined with hers, pulled down to make her feel her lower stomach.

“Feel me there?” he continued. “M’so glad you chose me. Let me split this pretty pussy open on my cock. Gonna let me fill it too? Wanna really make sure I do the job correctly?”

“Fuck, please, yes!”

He withdrew his cock entirely, letting it kiss her slick cunt and smear the wetness between them. Rafe sunk back in without warning and her back arched up.

Kiara’s fingers scratched down his back and he mentioned nothing of it. Her eyes closed again. “Rafe, I… I think I’m gonna—”

“Another?” he cut off, unable to conceal his pride. “Such a good baby. Eager to fall apart on my cock. Wanna feel it, please, sweet girl.”

She came again, pussy twitching around him. He followed shortly after and stuffed her full of cum as they milked each other dry. If the sensation of him finishing down her throat was intriguing, this was… addictive.

Rafe was an exceptional gentleman in terms of cleaning up; Kiara lay weak and tender as he gathered a wet cloth to undo the last hour. Well… as much as could be undone.

“Thank you,” she said finally, voice low above the radiator, spoken across his chest she rested on.

“Don’t even mention it,” he laughed softly and pulled her in closer. They already approached slumber. “Though, if you really wanted to thank me, I have a few ideas in mind…”

[slut4msby]

don't fuck your co-workers. kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; heavily suggestive, implied smut, use of the word "slut" like once & reader deffo sleeps around

+ a/n; listen to the title guys, don't fuck ur co-workers pls its not good and this does include dating, it's BAD (been there done that). also this is my longest one-shot yet (wc; 1544) AND first none inarizaki one-shot I AM A CHANGED WOMAN

Don’t fuck your co-workers.

That is the one unspoken rule of the workplace, right? It ruins the dynamic and adds unneeded tension to an already dreaded environment. But what if having sex with your coworkers is the only way to make it to the top. You were smart, you knew that. But more than your brains you had the looks. And even more dangerous, you knew how to use them. Use them to your advantage. Low of you? Maybe. Did it work? Yes. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh at the emails sitting in front of you. Who knew having a job meant you would actually have to do work. Maybe becoming a sugar baby would have been the easier option. As the music plays throughout your headphones, trying to find some motivation to respond to the endless company emails that sit in front of you. Maybe you should just walk out now and marry rich. 

“L/N-san? Are you good?” Your coworker says as he walks past your desk.

Your head darts up, looking at the handsome figure in front of you. Kuroo Tetsurō. One of the men in the building you have yet to sleep with. Kuroo was seen as higher than you in the business, so maybe getting in bed with him would give you a better chance at being the business woman you had dreamt of. 

“Earth to L/N?” Kuroo says again, this time waving his hand to get your attention.

Crap. You had zoned out. You nod your head in response. Kuroo peered down at you with confusion. “Actually, Kuroo-san, can you give me a hand responding to this email? I am unsure what they are asking…” you manage to spit out.

“Oh sure, L/N.” He walks next to you, leaning down looking at your monitor. It was an email from a random sports team. Even Kuroo could agree this email was confusing. As he read the words on the screen, you turned to look at him. He looked hot whilst concentrating. Actually, he had always been hot. But one step at a time, right? 

“Oh I see what they are asking now.” Kuroo then goes on to explain the email and how he would respond. You couldn’t help but look at him through your eyelashes. Maybe you were having too much fun sleeping around in the office. Call it what you want, but it gave you some fun and it was efficient. Almost all of the men fell under your control, all of them but Kuroo Tetsurō.

 You could tell Kuroo was paying attention to what you were doing, and he couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Ever since you were hired. Starting off as the pretty secretary all the men would flirt with on their way in. Leaving you coffee and treats each morning. All of the men but Kuroo, who tried to show zero interest in you. Keeping your relationship strictly professional. It wasn’t because he did want anything to do with you. He wanted everything to do with you. However when you had first walked in the building Kuroo was seeing someone, a lady who would often pop in. She was beautiful, sweet and funny. Everyone loved her. However, you started seeing her less. And eventually not at all. Of course this was strange, you happened to ask Kuroo one morning when he walked in when he casually mentioned their breakup. It was sad, but also gave you an opening. You know you should listen to girl code or whatever, but he was too good to miss out on. Maybe your morals weren’t there, but fuck morals. 

“Ah! I get it now, thanks Kuroo-san.” You say shyly, maybe he liked the more innocent approach? “I’ll finish it off now.” You smile.

“No worries, L/N san.” He responded, “If you need anything else I’ll be in my office.”

Good to know.

You looked at him once again, with an innocent look in your eyes. This worked on everyone else in the building. Why not him? The day continued as you answered emails, all your coworkers leaving the building as the sun went down.

“Bye Y/N!” Your coworker Rin said as he walked past. Now it was just you and Kuroo. After your encounter today you were determined to get something out of him. At this point it didn’t mater if fucking Kuroo lead to a promotion or not. It was more like your personal mission, the only thing to satisfy you. Was it a sexual fantasy? Essentially. I mean Kuroo was toned, he had dark hair and dark eyes. Kuroo exerted a mysterious and intriguing vibe. But on top of that Kuroo was funny, smart, cunning, and powerful. He wasn’t head of the JVA but he was high enough where if you convinced him to put in a good word your business woman fantasy would become more than true. 

You got up from your desk, adjusting your skirt and fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. Each step brings you closer to Kuroo as you knock on the door to his office. “Kuroo-san? Are you still here?” You ask softly, as you slowly open the door you see Kuroo sitting in his seat. His laptop closed. 

“Oh hey L/N-san did you need something? I was just getting ready to go home.” Kuroo replies, staring at you. Staring at you. If he didn’t know any better he would have eaten you alive. Your hair now slightly dishevelled, your blouse slightly unbuttoned leaving your lacy bra and cleavage on display, your skirt hugging your hips perfectly, and the thigh high boots making your legs look ever so sexy. Kuroo swears you didn’t look like this last time he saw you. He had heard rumours of your escapades, seeing you know he didn’t blame the men you toyed with. If he could, he would take you right here right now.

“Oh, I just kinda felt scared and lonely by myself. Pathetic to admit I know…” You admit with a very vulnerable tone. It wasn’t a lie, you were lonely and a little scared. You slowly start walking over to Kuroo’s desk, he slowly gets up and walks towards you closing the gap. “Kuroo-san? Why do you keep calling me L/N-san? You refer to everyone else by their first name? Everyone else refers to me by my first name…”

Kuroo knew the reason. It was so he formed no unneeded attachment to you. He already felt attached. For why? He will never know, since the day he met you even being in a relationship he wanted you. Maybe that was part of the reason Kuroo had broken up with his partner, but who knows? Anyone would be naive to deny the sexual tension between you and Kuroo. Maybe it was finally his time to strike? 

“Well why do you call me Kuroo-san, y/n.” He says his hand now on your face, tilting your head up to look up at him. God he looked good. “You call everyone else their first name.”

“I-I don’t know Ku-Tetsurō.” You can’t help but stutter. You were usually the dominant one but something about him made you weak. He had full control over you right now, and you enjoyed it. You know if someone walked in it would be over. You had fucked multiple co-workers before, never in the office. You weren't sure if Kuroo wanted you like that, right here and right now.

“You know, Y/N I have never been the biggest fan of my name… Yet it sounds so pretty when you say it, princess.” He says moving his face closer to yours. God that nickname made you have butterflies, made you want to give him everything right now. 

“Tetsu-” Kuroo cuts you off.

“But I am not going to act dumb with you right now, sweetheart. I know what you have been up to. I know about Rin, Haru, Emori, Yuto, etcetera. About you being the office slut.” He says into your ear softly. “Don’t think I am like one of them Y/N.”

You weakly nod.

“And you know this is wrong?” Kuroo asks.

Another nod comes out as you look up at him with doe-like eyes.

“So, why do you continue?” Kuroo questions.

“I wanted none of them, none of them satisfied me, Tetsurō.” You weakly admit.

“And you think I can do that?” Kuroo responds.

“I know you can, Tetsurō.” 

Kuroo began kissing up your neck, your arms wrapped around his. He slowly lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss now moving to your lips, desperate. You both knew how long you wanted this, since the day you sat down as a secretary. It was even better than he could imagine, your lips soft and tender. You tasted like the watermelon lip balm he would watch you apply. Wishing it was him touching these lips instead.

It was wrong, oh so wrong.

“Tetsu- I need more than this.” You whine, pulling away for some air.

“I know, princess. Why don’t you pack up and we can go home, hm?” 

An offer you couldn’t refuse.

Lets just say, you got that promotion and so much more.

©slut4msby

[probablyspooky]

Hey there, can you please do yautja x kryptonian reader

To the Stars (Yautja x kryptonian F!Reader) P.1

Tag warnings: Gore, violence, the nasty? White people. Idk man i write these as I go

[Next]

In the galaxy, the stars shine, some brighter than others, yet here we were on Earth, under the watchful eye of the lost colony, deep within the Andes Mountains, the current clan leader looks up into the dark night sky, staring at the vast star map that paints Earths night sky, but today, the leader known as Pa'sa,'s gaze grew as a star seemed to be running down from the sky, and land in a fiery ball of smoke into the mountain side.

Clicking curiously, he enters his cave den, grabbing his combi-stick for protection, he begins his trek to the crash site where a sizzling cloud of smoke was being produced from whatever had fallen from the heavens.

As Pa'sa approached, he took note of the deep path of the object had carved into the dirt, slowly sliding down into the crater in the side of the mountain, he approached the sizzling hot object that was thrown down.

The closer he got, the clearer he could tell that it was in fact no star, it was a small black pod. Tilting his head, he tapped the object with his weapon. Metal thudding responded to tapping of his weapon, placing the weapon back to his side, he took his clawed hand and ran it down the pod to see if there was anyway to open it from the outside. It was smooth, not indicator of any way to open it from the outside. Taking his claw he began to tap the metal pod once more, looking for a weak spot. But with this action, the pod cracked open, and with a crisp sound of air escaping, the pod opened, revealing its mechanical innards, and in the center of the small pod, an infant, much like the humans of this world. Pa'sa growled lowly, unsure if this was a trap, clearly he had seen the pod fall from the sky, so whatever this infant was, it clearly wasn't human. The small child turned slightly in the pod, revealing something tied around its small wrist. Pa'sa reached down, carefully untying it he began to examine closely. It was a small diamond shaped object, with a blue crystal in the center. He traced his thumb over the crystal. Suddenly it began to glow, quickly startled, Pa'sa dropped it to the ground, but he begins to hear muffled sounds from it, the sound being muffled in the dirt.

Pa'sa growled, picking it up and rubbing it again so he could try and restart the sounds it was producing.

"Hello, my name is Keb-el, if you are finding this message, then you are within distance of my child, she is my pride and joy. We come from a dying planet, and I have sent her off into space in hopes that someone with an open heart will take her in, so that she may have a chance at a life that I am unable to provide. Her name is (name), please take care of her, and if you can not, please take her to someone who can."

The crystal fades.

Pa'sa clicked curiously, and looked down at infant (name), feeling the gears turning in his head, he carefully picked up the small one, and sniffed her. She didn't smell human, but surely she can pass off as one.

Pa'sa developed the idea to take her to the human town, there she can live a normal human life. Pa'sa looked at the moon to determine the time. It would be morning soon, and his clan will be expecting their leader back.

He makes the decision to take her in the morning to the town, he begins to walk back to his clan, heading back to his side of the mountains, entering his cave den. It was a small den, he didn't have any mates, nor any sucklings to continue his lineage. Something within him does not allow for his children to enter the world.

He prepares a small hole with furs, laying her within the small makeshift bed, he clicks softly as the small baby settles down.

Something within his heart pangs, unsure of this feeling he turns away from her, she can't have a good life here, what would the others say? How would they react, surely there would be a challenge for his spot as clan leader, a sign of weakness to be on display for all those to see. Pa'sa the great, showing mercy to a human alike flesh ball.

No, she has to go to the village first thing in the morning, he tells himself as he leans against his spot across the den, his amber eyes never leaving the small bundle that lay just a few feet away from him. Feeling the embers of sleep pull his eyes shut, he slips into his slumber for the night.

As the warm morning rays beat against his skin, he stretches and growls. Pulling his dreads back and clicking his mandibles, and walks over to the bundle, only to find her gone. A bit of panic rose into his chest as he quickly stomped outside, taking note of the other yautja who begin to start their mornings in their tribe. Yet he sees no sight of her.

No wild animal would dare enter this area of the mountain range, and no other yautja would dare enter his den without permission, let alone within the darkness of the night.

He quickly re-enters the den, quickly scanning the room, his eyes land onto his bio-mask, with long strides he stomps over and places it to his face, with a click it powers on, switching through the modes he can see the trail she had left when she moved around the cave. It seemed she moved from her small bed towards him in the night, but within two feet of him, the trail stopped, he looked across the ground to see any other signs of her trail, nothing on the ground, but then his gaze traveled to the walls, and then to the ceiling as his eyes widened at the sight of her trail beginning again on the walls, and then reached the ceiling, Pa'sa removes his mask and sees her curled up on the ceiling, as if the rules of gravity doesn't apply to her. Clicking softly he reaches his large hand out to her and pulls her down, she hovers down, as if she was lighter than air, and eventually settles down within his arms.

Pa'sa looked down at the small infant, as the morning sun beams rain down onto the two of them, her eyes peak open, suddenly glowing a soft red, he tilts his head confused, and suddenly a blast from her shoots the cave wall.

Pa'sa quickly snarled, looking back down at the child in his hands. The gears turning in his head slowly.

"You will not fit in the human village...."

MANY YEARS LATER (Adjusted to your age)

As you grew to adulthood, you came to realize where you stood in this clan, how you were different from the yautja you called your friends.

Your father, Pa'sa often spoke about how hard he had to convince the tribe to accept you as one of their own.

How it was very odd to explain to them that this human looking alien fell from the heavens, and how you were different than the other humans that the tribe had come across. Many tests were done on you when you were younger, many traits and details of your upbringing were heavily documented within the clans medical experts.

Many often discussed sending you to the humans, or to dissect you as a child and take your power for their own. Pa'sa never let them get close, which didn't matter at all, as after you turned 5, none of their syringes, scalpels, or blades could penetrate your skin, shattering on impact as any pressure was applied. Eventually the clan had to accept that Pa'sa had adopted you as his own, and they just had to accept that this powerful baby from the heavens was now apart of their family.

Today on this day, you were traveling with Ada, and Sabre, two males you had grown up with, the three of you were traveling down mountain to retrieve water from the streams that flowed.

Ada was the tallest, standing at 7 feet tall, with red tits to his already green skin. Sabre, though a bit shorter than Ada, was still taller than you, had hints of blue to his yellow skin, and had a large muscle mass than Ada and you.

The three of you traveled down, carrying multiple clay pots along.

"Don't drop any more pots (y/n), Pa'sa may have your back, but the clan will surely make fun of you if you break more again." Ada teased.

Last time you had helped with this chore, you tripped and tumbled down the mountain, shattering many of the hand made pots. It took a month before the others began to forget about the incident.

"Shut it Ada," you frowned as the three of you walked on level ground, heading towards the streams.

Sabre clicked, and began to sign

"Careful, humans. Do not want to run into."

"Human's don't come this far towards this side of the mountain unless they wanna die", Ada growled

"It'd be cool to see a human" you said under your breath.

"Pa'sa doesn't want you to interact with them." Ada retorted

Sabre shook his head

"Human's. No good."

You and the others had managed to reach the stream, and knelt down to fill the pots.

"If I saw a human, I'm sure I can handle them." You boasted

But you didn't see any humans that day, but they definitely saw you.

[cactus-cuddler]

Chapter 4: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫?

Series' masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Word count: 2 k

Summary: finally your date with Bucky!

Warnings: no one I think

Tag list: @robynanthonystark @mcira @sofiaavarga13 @julvrs

(if you want to be added write to me)

ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ <3

It's Saturday, the day of your date with Bucky. The night before, after he brought you home, you didn't sleep a wink. Thoughts about how to dress and what you will do kept filling your mind. Now it's early in the morning, and you're drinking a cup of coffee to wake you up. You need some female help, so you call Megan to assist you; you haven't dated anyone in too long, and you want to be perfect for him.

Megan barges into your house with her bag full of makeup, ready to give you advice on men, and you can't help but feel grateful. She searches your entire closet, looking for a cute dress, but the only one she thinks is decent is a short, fitted dress. No, you wouldn't wear that dress. Megan looks at you in disbelief; she thinks you look hot dressed like that, but that's not what you want.

"He sees me dressed provocatively every day. For once, I want him to see me simply as I am," you confess with a shy smile. The fear that he approached you just for your body scares you. Megan understands and recommends a simple dress with a delicate elegance. You find it perfect. Your body isn't on display too much, but it still shows off how gorgeous you are. That dress takes attention away from your gorgeous body and highlights your beautiful face. Bucky will appreciate it without a doubt. Especially because he loves your face, your smile, and how your eyes shine when you see him. He would like your face to always be focused on him.

She helps you put on your makeup and fix your hair, then leaves you alone, telling you she has an important and urgent commitment.

“If things go wrong, call me and I'll bring you your favorite ice cream, and we'll watch one of those super romantic movies, so romantic they make you throw up rainbows, and we'll think of some plan to make him regret it. Is that okay?" You giggle at her proposal and, after thanking her, you give her a warm hug before letting her go. Even though you've known each other for less than a year, she's the kind of person you've always needed. When your doorbell rings, you are anxious and almost on the verge of pretending to be dead. 'If the date goes badly, how could I look at his face again? ' you think as you approach the door.

Bucky didn't sleep a wink thinking about your date either. He's afraid that as you get to know him better, you'll understand there's a monster inside him. But seeing how happy you were when he asked you on a date, he certainly couldn't disappoint you. He would never forgive himself. As he approached your door, he was almost unsure whether to knock or not and was almost on the verge of walking away and disappearing forever. He hasn't had a date in years! He takes courage and rings your doorbell, and when he sees you in that dress, he is transfixed by your beauty. Seeing you in a tight uniform every day can't compare to seeing you dressed like that. He's not bad either; for the occasion, he dressed elegantly just for you. He has elegant trousers tightened with a black belt and a narrow white shirt. It's not cold enough to put his jacket on, and he doesn't like ties, at least not anymore. You hold your breath seeing him look so cool, and you almost feel guilty for admiring so much beauty all at once. You spend a good minute looking at each other, and Bucky breaks the silence.

"You're beautiful," he says in a small, hoarse, and sensual voice, handing you a red rose.

"You too," you reply awkwardly. He bows to you and asks for your hand. You take it, giggling.

You discover that he didn't organize anything in particular; he just wanted to spend time in your company without your clients hovering around you. Going to a bar was out of the question, but you discover there's a festival just a few meters from your house. You walk there, and your hands touch but you don't hold them. You're too embarrassed to do it. As you walk, you talk calmly and laugh together. Being with him fills your stomach with butterflies and makes you feel like a little girl. He seems so interested in you and does everything to make you laugh so he can see your beautiful lips curl up.

Before arriving at the festival, you make a few intermediate stops. First, at a booth where they take Polaroid photos so you can have a memory. You take three photos: one funny, one cute, and one "serious." Only he looks serious; you burst into a loud laugh.

“Look how cute you are in this photo!" he tells you, pointing his finger at one of your photos together, and you blush: "It's not fair! You're beautiful in all of them," you complain, and he chuckles. "It's the charm of mystery," he replies, and you nod in agreement.

Afterwards, you stop at a supermarket. Eating at the festival was out of the question; other things besides cotton candy cost too much, so you decide to buy some sandwiches to eat during the remaining journey.

“I consider myself a gallant man, but spending half my salary to make you eat rubbish, I'll save it to give you a nice gift in the future," he tells you, biting into his sandwich. "Then these are better!" he exclaims. It seems like he's never eaten anything better in his life.

"I could have offered,"

"I wouldn't let you; I invited you, so it's on me,"

"What if I had invited you?"

"I would offer anyway,"

"Because you're a man?"

"No, because you forgot your bag at home." Only now do you realize that you didn't bring your bag with you; you spent half an hour choosing the perfect one and then forgot it! As soon as he realizes that you've just noticed, he bursts into loud laughter, and you punch his metal arm to make him stop.

Your lips get dirty with sauce, and he wipes it off with the pad of his thumb, then licks it off his finger.

“Good,” he whispers, and you blush. 'We just indirectly kissed,' you think, feeling your cheeks on fire, and you stop composing any meaningful sentences.

“Did I mention I love it when you react like that?” he asks in a whisper, and a similar memory lights up in your mind.

"How?" you ask, still in a trance.

"When, after a gesture from me, you stop thinking and moving, you stay with your beautiful mouth open in a small and adorable 'o' and look at me as... as if I were someone who deserves your attention," he replies, and you are surprised by his observation skills. You blush and take his hand. He looks at you surprised and smiles at your gesture, holding your hand tightly as you walk, swinging your arms together like two children.

Once you arrive, Bucky immediately offers you cotton candy. There are countless colored lights and many rides full of children and adults. Everywhere you turn, there are groups of people talking and paying no attention to you. There's 80s music playing very loudly, so you have to scream to hear each other. You notice that Bucky doesn't feel comfortable with all these people, so you squeeze his hand tighter and look him straight in the eyes to spread courage. Together, you look at the rides, searching for one to have fun together. Some are scary to you, some are scary to Bucky, but he wouldn't admit it until you both decide to ride the Ferris wheel. Seeing the sunset from above would be magical. You line up, and when it's your turn, a man stops you.

“You…” he begins, pointing at Bucky. You don't understand what he might want from him, so you cling to his arm to comfort him. Bucky is agitated. His look doesn't show it, but he is absolutely agitated.

"You are the Winter Soldier!" the man exclaims, and Bucky's fears all come out. The man looks at him fearfully, and you don't understand what he means. The Winter Soldier is just an urban legend to you; how can anyone believe he exists? You also don't think Bucky is capable of killing. Bucky looks at you and notices your confusion as rumors that the Winter Soldier is right there spread among those present.

"Y/N, I have to go. Sorry," Bucky tells you. Breaking away from your hold, he walks away and leaves you there, alone and confused. Is the man you love really the legendary Winter Soldier?

Once you get home, you fall into bed. You're sad; everything was going so well with Bucky before he was forced to leave. You can't believe he's a monster. You don't want to believe it. He is a good man; inside, you know he is sweet and needs someone to stay by his side and not let him get hurt. However, you start to connect all the pieces. Is this why he is so mysterious? You need to talk to him, but you don't know how. You've never exchanged phone numbers and have never seen him with a cell phone, so it never occurred to you to ask him. All you have to do is wait for Monday, when you go back to work.

You hear the doorbell ring, and as soon as you see Megan with two jars of ice cream and a bag containing some DVDs with her favorite films, you can't help but hug her. You told her that Bucky had to leave without telling her why, and she assumed he was just an asshole.

"You don't know much about the Winter Soldier, do you? And I'm sure the others don't know more than you either," she tells you, and you nod.

Megan tells you what HYDRA did to Bucky and how they manipulated his mind to make him a ruthless killer. You listen to her while eating large spoonfuls of your ice cream. She tells you that there is a lot of information online about the "Winter Soldier," and she, being very curious, read all the articles she found and discovered his tragic story. 'If all this information is public knowledge, why hasn't anyone defended Bucky?' you think. You wish Bucky had told you, but you recognize that it really is a huge burden. A burden too great for one person alone.

“I have to go see him,” you tell Megan, standing up mid-movie.

"Don't be reckless; how do you think you'll find him? You don't have a number or a home address," your friend scolds you, but you're not going to give up so easily. You grab your phone and call your employer. Bucky works there; he must have definitely given some of his data to that man. Even though dinner time has passed a few hours ago, he replies to you.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you the data you ask for; it would be a violation of privacy," and here you put your plan into action.

"It's urgent! I'm pregnant with him, and I need to tell him right away! I can't wait until Monday, please." Megan looks at you and giggles as you send her a wink.

"Oh God, congratulations! If you put it on this level..." you knew that your employer could not let these things slide, and in order not to stop the love of two young people, he would be willing to break some small privacy law. You write down Bucky's number and home address in a notebook, and before hanging up the call, you thank your employer from the bottom of your heart.

“Now you really have to get knocked up,” Megan teases as you put your cardigan on over your pajamas. No time to change!

"Stay as long as you want; make yourself at home," you reply and close the door behind you.

Thanks for reading! If there is something you want to tell me about it feel free to tell me. I would also like what you think and how you would like it to continue <3

I remember that if you want to be added to the tag list, just write to me or a comment here or in messages (it's also good as an excuse to talk, I love meeting new people knowing that we have common interests!♡)

I think the next chapter will be the last, I can't tell you now if I will make an epilogue or not but I want to write a one-shot where Sam forces Bucky to bring you flowers. Tell me if you would be interested!

Series' masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter