#or save that as a surprise for the game itself

[buttercupshands]

Had another one of "YOU HAVE TO DRAW NOW" moments

I actually did the scene above on my second try of the battle, lv 90 doesn't exactly make it easy to lose

Also I think it's time to show those sketches too

The Siffrin practice once more, but this time a bit earlier

Also first try on figuring Loop's full body ref too

Also this little thing, not as polished as digital would've been

Imagine my reaction when I accidentally gave Loop a flower after trying already and they accepted it. I adored that 'yeah we won't speak of this, but I accept your stupid flower' scene more than anything and it was pure text after little scene

[thrassisfras]

The fact that I went into that first conversation with Gortash completely blind and he somehow managed to be the one that almost convinced me to side with him is just wild to me. Gwydion had been incredibly resistant to anyone (even his partner) trying to get him to be just a little power-hungry, but then Gortash came along and started talk about unity and stability instead of "we're gonna be evil and rule the world" and it was working on Gwydion.

My only thought during the coronation scene was "damn, he really does know Gwydion"

[doux-amer]

Look at Leo singlehandedly (or nearly singlehandedly. Busquets is there too and it's hilarious seeing how unaccustomed he is to how low the bar is in the MLS and Miami just signed Jordi) take the worst club in the league—the one that's literally dead last—to first place. It's going to be hilarious.

And the petty vindication I'll feel when that happens will be great. People can finally shut the hell up about how Leo's brilliance will fade/has faded when he's out of a system that was essentially constructed around him and for him to win. I'm sure the argument has shifted to "Well, the MLS sucks so of course he'll look amazing and in fact look even better than usual," but it doesn't hold any water because many former greats have tried to make a big splash in the MLS and none actually succeeded to the degree that Leo's already changing things.

[arolesbianism]

In other news Odile crashed my game during her friend quest. Smiles in pain.

[winterzsurprise]

Ride me? || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader

Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.

This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome

Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.

You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.

Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.

You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.

It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.

So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.

He came earlier than expected.

"How'd the chase go?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Come here." 

Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."

His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.

"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"

You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.

You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."

"Then ride me."

You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.

His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.

"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."

Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.

"You are a convincing man."

"And you love it."

You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body. 

His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.

"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."

"Rip it then."

He didn't need to hear you twice. 

In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.

"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"

"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."

"I don't care, get rid of the suit."

His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.

"Let me prep you real good, huh?"

Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.

"So wet for me, mi amor."

"Only for you, guapito."

Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.

His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.

And it's only a finger in.

"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."

He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.

Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.

Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.

You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.

But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.

"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"

"Give it to me baby, I want it all."

It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.

A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.

And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.

"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."

You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.

It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.

And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.

Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."

He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.

He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.

"Fuck…!"

"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."

The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.

Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.

"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"

"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."

The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.

With a scream, you came. 

Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.

But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.

You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed. 

Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.

"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"

His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.

The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.

And with that, he's dragging you down with him.

"Please please please, give it to me…!"

"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."

With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.

When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same. 

As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.

"I love you so much, cariño."

"I love you more, guapito."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SHE GOT MY HEARTBEAT SKIPPIN' DOWN 16TH AVENUE! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: he's always so confident and self-assured, but a couple kisses from you and he turns into a mess.

contents: fem!reader. kinda suggestive ending (inumaki's comment). you spend half the fic making out lolll anyways we love flustered gojo he's so precious <3 tagging @rinniessance and @rizsu to see streamer!gojo's latest shenanigans :3

author's note: this one was requested and i rly liked the idea sooo yea. i wrote it. shocking right?! anyways thank u guys for all the streamer!gojo requests, saves me the effort of having to think of plots ꨄ︎

"baby, what time is it?" satoru mumbles against your lips, holding you in place on his lap. the two of you are seated on his plush chair in front of his computer, and you've been kissing like teenagers for the last... hour? or two?

satoru tilts his head in to kiss you again, soft lips gently pressing against yours for the thousandth time. his hands roam over your body, and one rests on your waist while the other reaches around you into your back pocket. his eyes flutter open when he feels your phone, and he turns his head briefly to sneak a glance at the time.

"shit, i gotta start the stream in two minutes," satoru mutters. he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and leans back, azure eyes drinking in your heated cheeks and fluttering eyes. a smug smile slowly grows on his lips as you look away. 

"aw, d'you want more?" he cooes, reaching out and touching the side of your face. satoru gently pushes your face back in his direction, moving his slender fingers to your chin and holding it in place. you're all sweet and flustered in the aftermath of your makeout session, and every time he sees you like this, another part of his heart surrenders itself to you.

you nod bashfully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you feel satoru's grip on your chin tighten. he pulls you in for another long, minty kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips. his hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck as he hugs you against his chest, which rises and falls in sync with yours.

"you're so cute," he murmurs in between kisses, eyes flickering back and forth from you to the time. "c'mon, honey, we have a minu—"

you cut him off with another kiss, which catches him off guard—usually he's the one leaning in. but no, you had to take him by surprise and throw him off his game. the little hm? that slips out of his lips when you kiss him causes satoru to go redder than you've ever seen him. 

seeing satoru embarrassed is rare—he's so cocky and confident that embarrassment is basically unheard of, but in this moment, you've got him. he laughs nervously when you pull away, wide eyes looking everywhere but at you and your cheeky smile.

you reach up and grab his chin, tugging it in your direction the same way he did earlier. "you know exactly what you're doing," satoru mumbles, pulling you closer and burying his face into your neck. 

"i have no idea what you're talking about," you reply smugly, kissing the side of his face. "don't you have a stream to be starting soon?"

satoru looks up instantly and groans when he sees the time—it's a minute past his start time, and that could cost him a couple hundred viewers. you laugh as you hop off his lap and into his bed, curling up under his sheets as you watch him scramble to start the live. 

"love you, 'toru," you call, wrapping your arms around one of his pillows. 

after a second, he turns around, a loading sign on his screen. "love you too, baby," satoru replies, face still noticably red. you blow him a kiss and watch as he pretends to faint in an attempt to hide his childish grin.

a soft ding then signals him that he's about to be live, so satoru spins his chair around to face his computer. he forces his usual collected smile onto his face and starts, "hey, everyone. sorry for the delay, just got... held up with something."

inumaki: u look like a tomato LMAO

yuuji-itadori: yea ur really red, are u ok?

satoru looks away, mumbling something about how it's just the lighting that's making his face look red. naturally, everyone disagrees and starts speculating as to why he seems off his game today, and eventually, someone gets it.

megumi-fushiguro: he always looks like that everytime he sees his gf wdym

inumaki: WAIT THATS IT

inumaki: he was def doin unspeakable things with his gf just two seconds ago. trust

you can't suppress the small laugh that escapes your lips when satoru stumbles over his words at the comments, face redder than ever. "a-anyways, today i'm gonna— hold on," he cuts himself off by looking down at his phone, where a text notification from you had popped up.

love of my life: ur so cute :(

love of my life: but get ur shit together 

love of my life: im the only one who gets to see u like that (¬_¬)

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt finally confronts brat!reader about her sudden distance, but it doesn’t quite go as expected

conversations like these were hard for matt, to say the least — he hated to feel like he was overstepping boundaries you'd so carefully set in any way, but he had to. everything was going so well between you two. for it to all suddenly slip between his ringed fingers like water? he couldn't just sit back and let you push him away like this.

with the silence in the living room, save for the cartoon mazzy had fallen asleep watching beside matt, he felt a familiar yearning in his chest. now had to be the time. he was done psyching himself out of words like he had the past week now.

standing from his spot, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler, matt practically tip-toed over to your bedroom. your head snapped up when you heard the three soft knocks on your door frame, assuming it was matt getting ready to tell you he was heading home for the night, like had become recent routine. matt then cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets in a brief moment of silence. "you're gonna have to tell me what's wrong eventually, " he finally spoke up, heart pounding in his eardrums like they never had before.

"what?" was your immediate reply, playing dumb as your deadpan facial expression remained unwavering.

matt's eyebrows immediately furrowed, knowing you were just playing games with him now. he couldn't be too upset though, or else he'd never get to the bottom of all your weird behavior. "baby, is it something i did?" he questioned, completely disregarding your clueless act, "we can talk this through; we always do. you just have to tell me what's wrong."

the way you looked at him - like he were some sort of lunatic standing in front of you - he couldn't say it didn't hurt. always being 'mr. fix it' was getting exhausting, and for probably the first time since he met you, matt began to wonder if it was all really worth it. all the games you played, tugging at his heart strings and using your guys' child to manipulate him... there had to be something more out there, right? was driving him crazy fun for you?

a clear desperation wrote itself all over matt's face, his expression as he stood so timidly in your doorway making you want to crawl out of your skin. “matt…” you trailed off, shifting your seated position in your bed.

“what?” he replies, voice coming out in an almost whine-like manner. he felt this insatiable sense of dread wash over him, like he somehow knew what you were going to say before you even said it.

but when you remained silent, he just couldn’t take it anymore. “y- y’know what, forget i even said anything,” he finally breathed out, an empty feeling at the idea of giving up so easily — there was nothing else he could do, though. he knew how you were: if you didn’t want to talk, you simply weren’t going to. that’s what he told himself.

and he began to turn away, one hand clinging to your doorframe as if it were telling him he needed to stay. “matt, come sit.”

he stopped in his tracks, ears practically perking up at the sentence. his head instantly snapped in your direction, bright blue eyes widened in surprise when they caught you patting the empty space of your bed in front if you. he almost didn’t believe it, all the negative emotions that had once rushed through him in painful waves seeming to instantly subside as a glimmer of hope fluttered in his chest.

maybe that was stupid of him, but this was a real step for you two. a big one, he was sure of it. he wasted no time in taking a few steps across the room to reach you, carefully sitting in front of you. watching as matt bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation, a nervous habit he’s had all the time you’ve known him, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

matt was so ready. he needed to know what was wrong, eyes eagerly scanning your face at the idea of you finally opening up to him after all this time. “you know you’re a great dad, right?” you muttered, your words much different than what he’d expected.

that caught him off guard, a small twitch in his features telling you he was a bit confused. he wasn’t sure what mazzy had to do with any of this. you two were co-parenting just fine, always have been, whether you were on good terms or not. but he kept quiet, silently urging you to explain yourself.

“and you’re so loving–full of emotions that…” you paused, trying to think of the right words.

somehow, matt was catching on, no longer so pleased with the idea of you ‘opening up’ to him anymore. it was like you’d taken him on a roller coaster he didn’t sign up to ride, and he hated that. “…that i can’t handle.”

right, he knew that. matt knew you were never fond of his big emotions, always telling him he can be too much at times. and he understood. he never wanted to put whatever he was feeling onto you. he wasn’t, though; he knew he wasn’t. so what’s all this about?

it took a moment for matt to think up a response, sighing a bit before he cleared his throat. “i don’t get what that has to do with you acting all weird. i’ve only been trying to keep us together… as a family,” he opposes, shrugging a bit to seem less caught up about this than he actually was.

too quick for matt’s comfort, you nodded, a small hum following. “does that apply to the sex, too?”

almost taken aback, his mouth opened as if he were ready to say something, but nothing came out. “you suck at no strings attached, matthew. i know what you’re thinking every time you come around,” you added, each word like a barbed blade stabbing at an open wound. was this too cruel? no, it couldn’t be—you were only telling him the truth, and god, did he need to hear it. “you think that whenever we’re sleeping together, we’re on ‘good terms’, like it’s grounds for fixing everything and becoming one happy family where your daughter’s parents are happily in love.”

you had him there and he knew it, but for you to just sit and tell him all his efforts are for nothing so easily? he knew there had to be something more to it. you weren’t telling him something. “but when we’re not-”

“it doesn’t work that way. now go home, matt”

and don’t ever say matt was in denial because he’s not… at least, that’s what he told himself as he did the walk of shame from your apartment to his car, that nagging feeling of yearning he’d felt earlier somehow worse now.

w/c : 1.1k

a/n : there will be no part two

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[wysteria-bloom]

↪"you're lucky I...adore you."

Bg3 companions if they've been affected by succubus magic

Bg3 x bard!reader

Warnings : nothing that I can think of.

Genre : fluff, just pure fluff

A/n : still haven't finished this damn game and it's nearly been a year. You don't want to know how many hours I've spent on it I'm genuinely so disappointed in myself 🥲

▢ lae'zel

Gone was her usual stern demeanour, this woman was huffing and puffing to try and hold herself back. Her mouth pulled into a grimace as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her will.

"Tav.... your battle prowess is... most pleasing to witness..." Her eyes were hazy as she leaned down slightly to your level, brows pulled tightly together despite the contrasting words coming from her mouth," Were you a githyanki, I might even consider... taking you as a mate."

You just sort of blink at her, string pulled taught against your finger as you were trying to fix your violin. A slow smile made its way to your lips," ... you're certainly direct." You cooed out, brows raised suggestively as you look her up and down," I'm flattered, really, but perhaps you should save the mating proposals for when you're not under the influence of succubus magic, hm?"

The githyanki huffs, embarrassed but still utterly bewitched, her nostrils flare," usually... a gith would take offense at such a vehement rejection..." Her forehead presses against yours as she frowns deeply," You're lucky I... adore you." She gritted out with much difficulty.

"It was a spell. Nothing more. Forget it happened unless you want to see your innards splattered across the dirt you stand on."

You smirk, pressing your forehead back in response," Lucky, indeed~"

-

"My pretty lips are sealed, milady."

▢ shadowheart

She leans casually against a nearby tree, watching you with that adoring green gaze of hers that she tried to hide underneath her awkwardly mysterious aura.

She listens to the soft tunes you play with your lovely fingers, humming slightly and almost drunkenly," You know.... your music isn't the only thing enchanting about you."

These strangely uncharacteristic words made you pause in your playing, raising a brow up at her in surprise.

She, herself, didn't know what she was saying but she just couldn't stop herself as her lips twitched into a smirk," perhaps we should compose a duet of our own?"

The blatant flirting amused you to no end and a hand shot to your mouth to suppress a laugh," a duet?" You repeated," As memorable of a performance that would be, I think it best for you to sleep off whatever magical nonsense that succubus casted on you."

Shadowheart gave you an incredulous look and tried to play it off, shrugging with a pout," Oh no, this is... all me." She tried, but the words trembled," totally natural."

"... Let's never talk about this again."

"What a ball of charisma you are."

-

"I've already got a tune decided for our duet. No backing out now, little cleric~"

▢ gale

The wizard approaches his dearest bard with his usual theatric flair, but the lines falling from his smart mouth were far more dramatic than usual as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear," your beauty... it's like the stars themselves - unreachable, radiant, and yet somehow, you make even the Weave seem mundane in comparison."

Your hand removes itself from your instrument to pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite your exasperation, you couldn't hide your amusement," Gale... that succubus has broken you. You don't need to keep... weaving poetry to me."

"Ah, but for you, my dear, no spell is required for me to express my-"

You cover his mouth with your hand and you swear you see hearts in his eyes," mhmm, let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Ahem... I maintain that my delivery was impeccable, spell or no."

-

"Didn't make me swoon, however. Maybe you should give it another try."

▢ karlach

You pause in analysing what spells you had when a shadow fell upon you, making you look up slowly to see Karlach's wry grin shining down upon you like the rays of Lathander himself.

Her infernal engine was humming a lot louder than usual, her enthusiasm palpable," look at you, soldier! All studious n' shit." She cooed as she crouched down, but she still towered over you. Her head canted to the side, hair falling wildly along with her," You're hotter than the hellfire burnin' in my chest... and that's saying something."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head with a flush rising to your cheeks. Whether it was because of Karlach's heat or her words? You couldn't tell. You didn't care either.

"That might be the most intense compliment I've ever received... did the spell possessing you come up with a list of pickup lines to read off of? Or is this all just you?"

Karlach's eyes glinted with affection and amusement as she shrugged," all me, babe." She lied before catching herself, looking up at the sky to think,"... or.... uh, the spell." She tapped her chin in thought, brows furrowed," maybe both?"

"Don't hurt yourself, love."

"Tav, you have to admit, the hellfire thing was pretty fuckin' good!"

-

"True... I'd like to hear you say it without slurring your words, this time."

▢ wyll

His confident strides never faltered despite the magic clearly affecting him, his usual charming demeanour was cracked up to tenfold as he leaned forwards to you, a soft little smile spread to his lips.

"You know... your voice could tame a dragon, and your smile could slay a Devil." He took your hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand," let me be your Knight, forever at your side."

You giggle, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and you had to ignore the flip of your heart when he instantly leaned into your touch," Wyll, that's sweet, but I think you're laying it on a little thick here, sweetheart." The pet name made his head buzz," I'm impressed, honestly... did the spell teach you how to swoon like a bard?"

His hand moved to your one resting on his shoulder and squeezed with purpose, brows furrowed with a lovesick grin curled to his lips," no spells required, my love."

You snort," sure, and my lute plays itself."

"I... apologise for whatever nonsense spewed from my mouth. I was merely playing the part, you understand-"

-

"Hmm... nonsense, was it? And I was so looking forwards to you being my Knight. A shame, really."

▢ astarion

A finger twirled your hair as you strummed your instrument absentmindedly, trying to come up with a catchy bar tune.

Astarion was staring hazily, his usual smirk had actually fallen as his crimson eyes glinted,"... did you know your blood smells sweeter than the finest wine?"

You give him a deadpan look, pausing in your strumming to look up at him which immediately prompted for his hand to move to your chin," Astarion... did the spell make you forget how incredibly creepy that sounds?" You grimace.

He blanched at you, a hand pressing to his heart rather dramatically but his eyes were still infatuated with your every crevice and cranny," creepy?? No, no it's a compliment, I'll have you know!" Then he frowned as he thought of his words and quickly added on a," in a vampiric sort of way..."

You snort and grabbed his wrist, rubbing your thumb up and down it gently," let's revisit this topic when you're not spellbound... or thinking about my blood."

"But it's such lovely blood, darling!" He whined only to be interrupted.

"Nope. We're done here."

"Well, I regret absolutely nothing."

-

"That's because the things you said weren't anything out of the ordinary you freak."

▢ halsin

The uncharacteristic sparkle in his eye is what made you pause as he approached with his usual gentle facial expression. He opened his mouth and you were enraptured with every word-

"I was missing you... and found a lily of the valley," he held out the flower cutely, the size of it compared to him made your heart clench. What a pure man he was," they truly remind me of you... delicate, radiant and captivating."

You reached out and gently took the flower from him, cradlingnit as your cheeks flush warmly," You adorable man." You then moved your hand and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, but before you could pull your hand away, he pressed it to his cheek," Halsin... this is lovely but I'd prefer if you did this whilst not being under the influence of a spell. It's turned you into a poet."

He hums, half-listening to you as he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the temperature and feeling of your hand," poet? Not quite... just a humble druid who's helplessly ensared by your otherworldly beauty."

You sigh and smile, shaking your head as you pinch his cheek, grin widening at the displeased groan that he emitted," helplessly ensared, hmm? Well, let's just hope this spell wears off before you start building me a shrine."

He seemed to lift his head at attention when you said that, moving your hand to his chest and pressing it against his beating heart. The serious look in his eyes sent a flutter through your entire body, his voice a low rumble as he leaned close to your face," would you prefer one of oak or stone?"

You grimace but your face was certainly burning," Oh no, it's definitely time for you to snap out of it."

-

"Tav... forgive me if my words earlier were... overzealous. It was the spell, of course, though they were not entirely untrue."

"Not entirely untrue, huh? I'll keep that in mind the next time you're waxing poetic about flowers and shrines."

▢ minthara

Minthara, usually composed and calculating, strides up to you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. However, her voice takes on an unusual softness that left you weak in the knees.

"I believe now is the chance for me to express this... you are a weapon forged by the gods themselves - sharp, striking and impossible to resist." Her deft fingers ran up and down your arms softly, soothingly, hypnotically," Were I to claim you..." Her eyelashes lowered," none would dare challenge us."

You could only blink with that shit eating grin you always took on when you irritate her," That's flattering, Minthara. But you should save this for when you're not enchanted."

Her voice lowered," I do not make declarations lightly, Tav. You belong at my side. Drenched in the blood of our enemies."

"Whoo... at your side, huh?" You liked the images she created," what, no throne or crown to sweeten the deal?"

God, the smirk that twitched to her lips was utterly mind boggling. You wished you could sew her mouth to permanently stay that way," Oh... there would be both. Gold and blood, in your honour."

You coughed out a reluctant," I'll pass for now, thanks."

-

"Whatever foolishness I said under the spell - forget it. I would not waste words on such sentimentality."

"Of course not, Minthara. The throne and crown offer was purely strategic, I'm sure."

[imloyaltoscoups]

stop playing | jeon wonwoo

As the game's intense soundtrack filled the room, Wonwoo was fully immersed in the virtual world, his focus unwavering as he navigated through each challenge with precision. Meanwhile, you lounged nearby, feeling a mischievous urge to steal his attention away from the screen.

"Hey, love" you called out playfully, hoping to draw him away from the game for a moment.

But he was too engrossed, his concentration unbroken by your voice. Determined to grab his attention, you decided to up the ante. You slipped off your shorts and underwear, leaving yourself clad only in his oversized shirt. With a mischievous grin, you settled back, waiting for the perfect moment to make your move.

Finally, a brief pause in the game presented itself, and you seized the opportunity. With a swift motion, you reached over and began to undo his pants, your actions catching him completely off guard.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Wonwoo exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face you, his hands hovering over the keyboard in confusion.

You met his startled gaze with a playful smirk, your fingers still working to remove his pants. "Just trying to get your attention, babe," you replied, your tone filled with mischief.

A mixture of shock and amusement crossed Wonwoo's features as he processed the situation, his lips twitching into a grin despite himself. "Well, you certainly got it," he chuckled, reaching out to gently tug you closer. "But maybe we can save this for after I finish this level?"

You pout slightly, feigning disappointment as you protest, "But Wonwoo, I want your attention now. I've been waiting patiently for you to notice me."

He chuckles softly at your playful protest, but his eyes still flicker back to the screen. "I know, babe, I'm sorry. This level is just really tricky."

Crossing your arms in mock indignation, you huff, "Fine, if you're going to keep playing, then I'll just... find something else to do."

As you start to turn away, Wonwoo's hand reaches out to gently grasp your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "Wait," he says, his tone suddenly serious yet tinged with a hint of mischief, "How about this? Why don't you... cockwarm me for a little while? It'll be like having your attention and letting me play at the same time."

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, so now you want me to multitask, huh?"

He grins sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, when you put it like that..."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you give in, sliding closer to him and straddling his lap. As you settle down, you can feel the warmth of his body beneath you, and the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you that, despite his focus on the game, he's more than happy to have you close.

As Wonwoo's eyes remain fixed on the screen, his focus unyielding, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his neck in a series of slow, teasing kisses. You feel a thrill of satisfaction as you hear his breath catch slightly, his body reacting to your touch even as he tries to maintain his concentration on the game.

You press your lips against his skin, sucking gently and leaving a mark in your wake, relishing in the small gasp that escapes his lips. But as you feel his cock growing beneath you, a surprised gasp escapes your own lips, and you can't help but voice your protest.

"Won, stop getting it big," you whine, your tone a mixture of surprise and playful annoyance.

Wonwoo chuckled softly, his laughter mixing with the ambient sounds of the game. "Sorry, it has a mind of its own," he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

Undeterred by his casual response, you continued to nibble and suck at his neck, feeling his cock twitching inside you in response to your touch. Sensing your own desire rising, you bit down on his shoulder to steady yourself, a low growl escaping from Wonwoo's lips as he felt the slight sting of your teeth.

As minutes tick by, your breath comes in heavy pants as you feel the wetness between your legs, a clear sign of your arousal building with each passing moment. Yet, Wonwoo's cock remains inside you, the throbbing sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Do you want to move?" he teases, his voice low and husky with desire, his lips brushing against your ear.

You let out a soft whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cling to him desperately. "Just hold on a little longer," you manage to gasp out, your own voice thick with need.

Wonwoo chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine as he tightens his grip on your hips. "If I kill the final boss," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, "I'll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for days."

His words ignite a fire within you, and you can't help but tighten your legs around his waist, craving the pressure and friction. He hisses in response to your actions, his own arousal evident as he presses closer to you, the sensation of his cock inside you driving you both to the brink of ecstasy.

"Please," you beg, your voice desperate and pleading, "I want you now."

Wonwoo's gaze flickers to you briefly, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You need to learn to be patient," he chides gently, his attention still divided between you and the game.

You whimper softly in frustration, feeling your wetness continue to flow, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment. Despite your protests, Wonwoo's resolve remains unwavering, his attention firmly fixed on the screen.

As you wait patiently, resting your chin on Wonwoo's shoulder, your eyes flicker up to the clock above, marking the passage of time. Suddenly, you hear him shout in triumph, a victorious "Yes!" escaping his lips. You know that he's beaten the game.

Before you can fully register what's happening, Wonwoo's hands are on your waist, lifting your body and thrusting it down onto his cock. A startled moan escapes you at the sudden action, your body instinctively responding to his rough movements.

You've been waiting for this, craving his touch, and now that he's finally giving it to you, the sensation is almost overwhelming. But despite the roughness of his movements, you remain surprisingly composed, your desire driving you to meet his every thrust with eager anticipation.

"You really behaved the whole time," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he moves your waist up and slams you harder onto his cock. "My baby needs a reward, right? For being such a good girl."

His words send a shiver of excitement coursing through you, and you nod eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Yes, please," you whimper, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

As he thrusts you roughly, your desire intensifies, and you find yourself craving the taste of his lips. With a sense of urgency, you seek out his mouth, and when your lips finally meet, it's like a spark ignites between you.

You clash your lips against his, a desperate hunger driving your movements. Sensing your eagerness, he responds eagerly, his own desire evident as he seeks to deepen the kiss even further.

With a soft gasp, you part your lips, inviting him in, and he doesn't hesitate to take advantage. His tongue slides into your mouth, dominating the kiss with a raw intensity that leaves you breathless.

In the midst of the heated exchange of kisses and thrusts, Wonwoo's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his praise sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"You're so good, baby," he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. "Clinging to me like this, driving me wild."

His words only fuel your desire further, and you tighten your grip around him, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you find yourself clinging to him even tighter, your nails digging into his skin in a silent plea for more.

As the intensity builds, Wonwoo's praises continue, each word driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Just like that."

The intensity of pleasure builds between you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, you can feel the familiar sensation of climax looming on the horizon. Wonwoo's movements grow faster, more desperate, a silent acknowledgment that you're both teetering on the brink of release.

But just as he seems on the verge of letting go, he pauses, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he considers his next move. Sensing his hesitation, you lock eyes with him, a silent plea in your gaze.

"Release it inside me," you whisper urgently, your voice filled with need. "It's safe today."

Wonwoo's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, surprise flickering across his features before a smirk spreads across his lips. Without a word, he resumes his movements, his thrusts growing even faster, more urgent.

As the pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel him tensing beneath you, his release imminent. And then, with a guttural groan, he lets go, his hot seed spilling inside you as you clench around him, your own release crashing over you in waves.

As you catch your breath, resting your head against his neck, Wonwoo's hand gently caresses your head, his touch comforting and tender. "We should do this more often," he murmurs, his voice filled with a warmth that mirrors the love you feel radiating from him.

You nod in agreement, a contented smile gracing your lips. "Cockwarming while you're playing," you add with a playful chuckle, remembering the exhilarating thrill of the moment.

Wonwoo's eyes light up with amusement at your suggestion, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths. "Definitely," he agrees, his tone playful yet sincere. "It adds a whole new level to gaming."

But just as you're settling into the comfortable intimacy of the moment, Wonwoo suddenly remembers his earlier promise, the one that left you breathless with anticipation.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky, "I did promise to fuck you until you can't walk straight for days, didn't I?" he says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Before you can respond, Wonwoo sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly towards the bedroom. You gasp in astonishment, your heart pounding with excitement at the sudden turn of events.

"I wasn't kidding," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he carries you across the threshold. "Consider this round one."

With a playful grin, you wrap your arms around his neck, eager to see where the night will take you.

As he lays you down on the bed with a tender touch, his lips meet yours in a series of soft, lingering kisses. Each touch is filled with promise, a silent reassurance that he intends to fulfill the pledge he made earlier.

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

[animeyanderelover]

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, manipulation, blackmailing, isolation, abduction, femalre reader

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

I love you but I can't be with you

Fushiguro Toji

🪱​You've been warned of Fushiguro Toji from his close acquaintance Shiu, your meeting with the agent unavoidable as soon as the assassin starts hanging out around you increasingly. Shiu is honest and you appreciate that even though what he informs you about hurts you a bit. Are you suprised though? Not really. It's always been obvious from observing the huge man that his life isn't exactly normal. It's just a shame that you had to fall in love with him of all people as you already know that you can't have a relationship with a man who sleeps with women only to leave them as soon as he has their money and who has a broke and irregular lifestyle you don't want to be part of. That is why you reject him when you find yourself in a situation where Toji makes his interest in you apparent even if your heart is beating out of your chest. You at least explain yourself honestly though as you confess that you can't see yourself in a relationship with him and the way he is currently living his life.

🪱​Nothing would hold him back from simply abducting you, taking you for his own desires. He's thrown away the concept of morality with the death of his wife after all, doesn't care if people think of him as the scum on earth. It's... different with you though. A feeling that is neither normal love nor only selfish desire has crawled into his heart and nested itself inside like a parasite. He knows you have feelings for him. His senses have heightened to the point where he can smell and hear things that no other human could sense. He picks up on that little heartbeat of yours beating loudly inside your chest when he is around, senses the heat of your cheeks when he gets too close to you. You don't fear him nor do you despise him, you love him yet it is his own way of living and his bad reputation and gambling addiction that stops you from allowing you to give in to your feelings. Perhaps it is that knowledge that has him considering to give it one, but only one, try to woo you the normal way and to see if he is capable of more than what he has reduced himself to after his wife's death.

🪱​All of a sudden he drops everything bad. He stops gambling, he saves the money, buys an actual house, starts caring more for Megumi who you often babysit and dresses up in better clothes. Even Shiu is surprised by the way Toji suddenly flipped his life around but the man has also known him long enough to realise that those feelings still differ from what Toji felt for his wife. He's willing to be a better lover for you but not willing to be anything more. He keeps secrets from you, never tells you what his true jobs entail and how he earns the money he willingly pours into you nor does he let you know about the presence of curses. The things you do not know can't scare you and hurt your relationship with him after all and as long as you are in his protection you may never need to find out after all. Is he a better person thanks to you? Yes and no. He's content, happy for the first time in years because of your presence in his life but he only is a better man when around you. He still murders children, woman and men alike to earn his money, hunts down everyone who poses a threat to you and gets rid of anyone else who may have an interest in you. You're going to be safe and loved, everyone else is a free game.

Doctor Shamal

🩺​It is no surprise that you don't trust Shamal with your heart that foolishly fell for him even though you knew that he was a certified womanizer who loves every woman he lays eyes upon. Yet you couldn't stop your traitorous heart when his attention landed on you. As sappy and silly as Shamal is and as clingy and touchy as he acts, you have seen that he hides more behind that goofy facade of his. His knowledge is vast and he is quite educated and from the stories he has shared with you you know that he is a man who has travelled all over the world and has seen things that you can only dream of seeing with your own days some day if you have the money. The doctor showers you in attention, touches and compliments yet you wonder how long it will take him to find his new love interest so you decide that you should end things before you get your heart broken during a dinner he invited you too, dressing up in a nice suit and sending you expensive clothes to wear as well.

🩺​As blind as this love might have made him, Shamal knows that his reputation with women in the past may have made him appear in not the best light in your eyes but the rejection you courtly tell him still breaks his poor heart on that night. No words and promises seem to convince you on that night enough to give him a chance as you almost have to run away from him as he persistently chases after you as you leave, sensing that you have broken the romantic atmosphere with your rejection. You're mistaken if you think that your rejection would stop Shamal though. He is far from giving up actually, all the more determined to win you over and prove you wrong. He may have had his unsavoury habits in the past but now he is a man truly in love and adamant to prove to you that he has changed for the better to be a devoted lover to you. Old habits of his unfortunately do not disappear in the least although there is one major change. His creepy behavior that he previously directed to multiple women is now solely focused on you.

🩺​It is only the fact that you love him that stops you from calling the police as you forgive his behavior even though to any other person he classifies as a stalker. He follows you around every day and sings you his promises of love, constantly appears in front of your door and sends you constantly gifts all in hopes of winning you over. He is willing to do anything to help you see that he only loves you and if you want proof of his burning passion for you you only have to tell him what you want and he will give it to you. He may use some underhanded methods when he realises that he isn't getting anywhere with his attempts, might send his mosquitoes out to infect someone close to you only to sweep in as your night in shining armour who cures the patient back to health only to then bask in your attention and gratitude. Sure, it isn't very chivalrous to use other people to win you over but he isn't harming anyone fatally in the end and nurses everyone back to health. There are people much worse than him in the Mafia, you know?

Jae-Ha

💚​Jae-Ha is infamous for his playboy attitude, appreciative of the beauty around him and even going as far as chasing everyone he believes to be beautiful. He may be a tad bit perverted but he does it with such confidence that it's almost attractive again. No one could blame you for falling in love with him as he is handsome, confident and despite his playboyish and perverted tendencies at the end of the day still highly charming and treats women with kindness and respect. Still, you have known him long enough and heard from the other people he travels with enough to know that he is probably not what you are looking for in a partner. As flattering and charming as he is as soon as he lays his eyes on you, you know that you are only one of many to have received such sweet words and his attention. His confession one day when the both of you are alone takes you by surprise as he asks of you to come with him, his hand stretched out and his green eyes looking at you.

💚​He has been told off before by some women in his life due to his advances but he has always made the effort to respect their wishes. Your rejection is different though. It hurts him deep inside his heart yet he swallows all the pain down and smooths his face to hide any flicker of heartbreak as he asks you why you don't want to be with him. You're slightly anxious as you tell him about what you have seen yourself and what you have been told about his flirty and playboyish behavior and he can just feel the anger building up inside of him. He asks you who it is that told you about all of this and has to suppress his ire from showing too much as he clenches his jaw when you carefully admit that you had a talk with Ki-ja who told you about his tendencies to chase after everything he perceives as beautiful. The same night he gets into a fight with the white dragon that almost escalates into a physical fight if it wouldn't have been for Yona. Reluctantly he stops but his anger is still very much burning inside of him as he warns Ki-ja as well as everyone else to never put any wrong ideas in your head again.

💚​He's far from discouraged from your rejection though. Jae-Ha is after all persistent and confident, downright bold with his advances as he continues to spend his time with you. He knows that he can't force you into a relationship with him. His group would catch on if he were to do it and Gi-Gan raised him better than this. As a rather possessive individual though the very least he has to do to be somewhat at ease is to see it through that you don't fall for anyone else and that no one dares to claim you for themselves. Perhaps it is a tad bit cruel as he keeps on tugging at your heartstrings even after you have rejected him to secure that you don't erase him from your heart, not allowing you to move on from him all whilst threatening and scaring away anyone who he senses considers trying their chances with you. It's alright. You don't have to accept him instantly but if you even think that he would just let you move on from him you are sorely mistaken. One day he will have you all for himself and until that day comes he will see it through that no one else can have you.

Suoh Tamaki

🌹​You're not the first one in love with Tamaki from all the clients in the host club as he is widely popular in the school and you know that you aren't the last one either. Perhaps if he would have realised his feelings sooner you would have accepted his confession but unfortunately Tamaki remained oblivious for too long, denying his love for you so that he could keep his Host Club running and continue pleasing the female guests. By the time he finally acknowledges his feelings and the whole obsession comes crashing down on him you have resigned yourself to the fact that you probably wouldn't be happy due to his position and his role as the host. You've seen how much it means to him and have decided to not interfere. So when he goes down on one knee and offers you a red rose, confessing his feelings to you and asking you earnestly to be his you have a very bittersweet feeling brimming in your heart before you shake your head and softly reject him.

🌹​You leave his poor heart shattered and his impulsiveness gets the better of him as he grasps your arm as you attempt to leave, tears brimming in his eyes. He's incredibly stubborn, shakes his head when you ask of him to let you leave as he refues to let you go after your rejection. Kyoya is on that day your savior as he had a feeling that Tamaki would confess to you soon after having finally figured out your feelings and he helps you to separate the teary-eyed boy from you before dragging him away, reprimanding him for his unwarranted behavior just now whilst Tamaki kneels on the ground like a kicked puppy, desperately dealing with his freshly broken heart. The co-host doesn't give up though, far from it actually. He knows that you have loved him long before he even realised his own emotions for you and this fuels his delusional thoughts only more. Nothing is lost after all as it is only his own inability to recognise his love for you that has ruined his chances and he constantly beats himself up for it.

🌹​The truth is that he is more anxious than he would like to let others notice, his princely facade up as he attempts to woo you and win you over with the same act he constantly has all other guests swooning over him in the Host Club only to soon realise you don't fall for it as you know that this is merely an act he always puts on to please his clients. As soon as he has recognised that he is only pushing you away further though he drops this act and reveals his real self that he always shows outside of his Host Club. He's clingy, greedy for attention and throws a drama as soon as you pay attention to someone else and ignore him. At times his anxiety and impatience gets the better of him which means that he might corner you out of desperation. He loves you and he knows that you love him too so he's begging you to give him a chance. He knows that he's at fault for having ignored his own feelings for you but he promises that he'll treat you like royalty if you give him a chance.

Ikkyu

♠️​Ikkyu's own blooming obsession is something he is painfully aware of because how could he not? He's essentially entrapped, his own wish he made as a child something that has restricted him and robbed him of his freedom as he has his own fanclub obsessing over him and threatening everyone who dares to try to take him away from them. That is why he attemps to distance himself from you for your own protection, pushing his own feelings down all because he wants to protect you. Yet the yearning he does would put a poet to shame, blue eyes discreetly stealing glances at you and only lingering on you when he is wearing sunglasses, his gaze hidden from the people around him behind the darkened lenses. Just once... Just once does he want to tell you how he truly feels about you and maybe then will he be able to move on. He spends a few days meticulously planning everything before he secretly informs you, his heart threatening to burst when he finally has you all for himself for the first time and tells you what he has been feeling for you for a longer time now.

♠️​If you would have just acted the same way as everyone of his fangirls he would have been able to let you go yet you do something that sets him down a dark path. You confess your own feelings earnestly to him, his heart nearly stopping as he realises that you are genuine and not blinded by the same obsessive adoration as other girls but you instantly crush his heart moments later as you prove to be very self-aware. You know about Rika and his fanclub, do not wish to bring yourself into danger before admitting that you also aren't too sure about him. He's charming and a playboy, someone you do not want to commit to and whilst you do realise that this is probably a facade he has to keep up to keep his fangirls on a leash you wish you could see the real him but know that his status probably won't allow that. All you would have needed to do was be just another fangirl or just simply reject him and he could have moved on yet you defy all of his previous encounters with other girls. Ikki realises on that day that he can't allow himself to let you go, opening his heart as he willingly allows his obsession to fully take root.

♠️​He leaves you alone after that day though and initially you believe that he respects your decision. The few times you two do interact there seems to be nothing off with him which only lures you into a sense of false security. You see him spending more time with Rika and his fangirls again and there is a bittersweet ache in your heart as you acknowledge that everything is back to how it was. At least until you receive news one day that Rika got into a terrible accident and is hospitalised, the whole fanclub in a disarray as Rika is the president. You didn't necessarily like her but what happened to her is still quite shocking. You didn't expect Ikkyu to look as affected as he does and you guess that even though Rika must have given him lots of trouble she still was someone he knew quite well. He seeks out comfort in you, keeps you close and you foolishly comply as you believe that he needs the company and the comfort, missing the way he smirks slightly when you hug him or the way his blue eyes trail over you as soon as you turn your head away from him.

[ahqkas]

♯ WICKED GAME ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x slytherin!reader

SYNOPSIS! the world was on fire and no one could save you but him (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2k

WARNINGS! nothing really, fluff, reader has trouble controlling her anger, annoying griffindors + lmk !

NOTES! soft theo soft theo

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS ADMIRED YOUR FIERCE SPIRIT, THE WAY YOU STOOD UP FOR YOURSELF AND OTHERS. As a Slytherin, you had a reputation for your sharp mind and quick temper. Losing your temper was something that could be considered common in your case. The initial spark of your heated nature might be something small — a careless feather — but it came hurling at just the right (or wrong) moment.

As the spark caught, the heat rose. Your pulse quickened, a thrumming beat that matched the rising fury in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, coiled tight like a spring about to snap. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms. Your breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, each one stoking the flames higher.

Your mind, normally a place of rational thought and control, became a battlefield. Rationality and restraint were shoved aside by a bunch of thoughts, each one more inflamed and irrational than the last. Words formed on your tongue, sharp and cutting, begging to be unleashed. The desire to lash out, to make the other person feel a fraction of what you're experiencing, was overwhelming.

And then, the dam broke. Anger spilled out in a flood, uncontainable and consuming. You shouted, your voice raised in a volume that surprised even you.

Most students knew better than to cross you, but occasionally, someone would test your limits. Today was one of those days.

The library was unusually crowded, with students cramming for their upcoming exams. The typically quiet environment was buzzing with hushed conversations and the rustling of pages. You and Theo had managed to secure a quiet corner, away from the main crowd of students who spent their free time with their noses buried in books, hoping to get some much-needed studying done.

You sat with Theo at a wooden table, the light from the nearby window casting a soft glow over your textbooks and notes. Trying to focus on an essay you were writing at the moment, you were barely containing your irritation at the persistent whispering of a group of Gryffindors nearby. They had been whispering and snickering for the past hour, their disruptive presence gnawing at your already frayed nerves. The Potions essay wouldn't write itself and you clearly couldn't pay all of your attention on it with the boys in the same place as you.

One of the Gryffindors, a tall boy with a mop of dirty hair, seemed to be the leader of his little group. He leaned closer to his friends, his voice carrying over despite his attempt to whisper. Someone had trouble learning in kindergarten. "Did you hear about the Slytherin who thought she was actually good at Potions? What a joke. And she proclaimed her supposed knowledge for the whole class to hear. It was embarrassing."

The grip you had on your quill tightened, and you felt the heat of anger rising to your cheeks. Theo, sitting beside you, noticed the change in your demeanor. He knew you well enough to recognize the warning signs: the slight narrowing of your eyes, the tension in your shoulders. It'd come to hell in any second.

"Stay calm," your boyfriend murmured next to you in a low tone, placing a gentle hand on your arm. But his words did little to soothe the simmering anger within you.

The Gryffindor continued with his snickering, his friends laughing at the cruel remarks he made. The final straw came when he leaned back and made a particularly rude comment about Slytherins in general, causing his friends to burst into louder laughter. They were practically asking for it.

You snapped.

Slamming your quill down, you stood up abruptly, the force of your movement knocking over your ink pot and spilling its contents on the table. Your essay was now soaked in a deep blue puddle. "That's enough!" you hissed, your voice echoing through the library. "Get out of here before I make you regret ever stepping foot in this place."

The Gryffindor turned to you with a death wish sparkling in his eyes, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "Oh, look, the Slytherin princess has something to say. What are you going to do about it?"

Before you could respond, Theo stood up and placed himself between you and the Gryffindors, his posture calm but his eyes cold. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, grounding you as he leaned down to your level to whisper to you.

"Let's not make this worse," he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. "They're not worth it."

You could see the concern in his eyes, the silent plea for you to stand down. It was a look that Theo had perfected over the years, a look that had saved you from countless confrontations.

"Listen to him, princess," the Gryffindor jeered, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Maybe your boyfriend can teach you some manners."

The rage within you flared again, and you took a step forward, but Theo's grip tightened, holding you back. His voice was steady, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

"Walk away," Theo said, his tone firm. "This isn't the time or place."

The muscles in your jaw clenched tightly, a testament to the restraint you were barely managing to hold onto. Oh, those boys were making you so mad. Your fingers twitched, itching to release the pent-up energy that crackled just beneath the surface. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, each beat echoing the unspoken rage coursing through your veins. It felt like a fire burning hot, threatening to consume you whole if you didn't find a way to let it out.

Theo's hand on your shoulder was a lifeline, his touch both calming and steadying. The warmth of his skin against yours contrasted sharply with the cold anger simmering inside you. His fingers, lightly but firmly gripped your shoulder. He was your anchor, the one thing that could pull you back from the void.

You inhaled deeply, the breath shaky and uneven. The sound of your own breathing was loud in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the effort it took to calm yourself. You focused on the small details: the way the light filtered through the dusty windows, casting long shadows across the floor; the faint rustle of pages as a student turned a book somewhere in the back; the distant ticking of a clock, each second a tiny victory in your battle against the anger.

Theo's eyes never left yours, their pale blue depths filled with a mixture of worry and reassurance. He knew you better than anyone, knew the struggle you faced in moments like these. His silent plea, combined with his comforting presence, was a balm to your frayed nerves. He was your refuge, the one person who could understand and temper the fire within you.

Slowly, the heat began to fade. The tightness in your chest eased, and the tension in your muscles started to relax. The world around you began to come back into focus, the red haze lifting to reveal the familiar surroundings of the library. The anger, though not entirely gone, was now manageable, a controlled burn rather than a raging inferno.

Theo's gentle squeeze on your shoulder was the final push you needed. His touch, his presence, his unwavering support — they were enough to pull you back from the brink. With one last deep breath, you gave a curt nod, signaling your surrender to his plea. The fire within you had been quelled, at least for now, and you were ready to walk away.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the tempest within. The Gryffindor's smug face made it difficult, but Theo's presence gave you the strength to pull back.

"Fine," you muttered, your voice low and dangerous. "But this isn't over."

Theo guided you away from the scene, his arm around your shoulders as he led you toward the library exit. The cold stone walls and dim lighting provided a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere you had just left behind.

Just as you were about to leave, Madam Pince appeared, her sharp eyes blazing with anger. "Out! Both of you!" she snapped. "I will not have this kind of behavior in my library. Out, now!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but Theo gave you a gentle nudge, urging you to comply. With a sigh, you followed him out of the library, the door closing behind you with a resounding thud.

Once you were a safe distance away from the commotion, Theo stopped and turned to you, his expression softening into one of genuine concern. The corridor they had led you to was dimly lit, with the flickering torches casting warm, dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. The distant murmur of the library faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the castle and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

Theo's eyes searched your face for any signs of lingering distress. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. The warmth of his hand lingered on your skin, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the castle.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

You took a deep breath, the remnants of anger and frustration slowly ebbing away with each exhale. The tightness in your chest began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of calm. You looked up at Theo, your eyes meeting his, and saw the genuine worry etched in his features. It was a look that made your heart ache with gratitude and affection because despite his own problems, he only really cared about you. Nothing else mattered.

"I'm better now," you admitted, your voice a little shaky but honest. "Thanks to you."

Theo's lips curved into a gentle smile, his hand moving to rest on your chin to lift it up a bit. His touch was light, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid of overwhelming you. But it was exactly what you needed — a quiet, steady presence that grounded you, reminding you that you weren't alone.

"You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all that matters to me."

The sincerity in his voice warmed you from the inside out, chasing away the last remnants of your earlier rage. You could feel the tension in your body melting away, replaced by a sense of safety and comfort. Theo had always had that effect on you, his calm and steady nature balancing your fiery temperament.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You always know how to calm me down, even when I'm ready to explode."

Theo chuckled softly, the sound a soothing melody in the quiet corridor. "That's what boyfriends are for," he replied, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and affection. "Besides, you've got a good heart. You just need someone to remind you of that when things get tough."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best possible way. Theo had always seen the best in you, even when you struggled to see it yourself. His unwavering belief in you was a beacon, guiding you through the stormiest of tempers.

"You're too good to me," you murmured, leaning into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering presence.

For a moment, you stood there in the dimly lit corridor, the world outside fading into insignificance. It was just you and Theo, wrapped in a bubble of quiet understanding and unspoken promises. His hand slipped from your chin to your back, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, finding solace in its rhythmic assurance. His arms around you were a shield, protecting you from the world and from your own worst impulses.

As you stood there, wrapped in Theo's embrace, you realized just how lucky you were to have him in your life. He was your rock, your anchor, the one person who could calm the storm within you. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had Theo by your side.

When the world burned, Theo was the only one who could save you. Strange what love will make people do.

[johnbrand]

Call to Action

William was getting antsy in the airport, crossing his legs and kicking his feet anxiously as he awaited his flight. It had been nearly two months since he had last seen his long-distance boyfriend and the excitement was riling him up. William had been preparing for this trip for weeks now. Everything was packed, the shuttle from the airport coordinated. As soon as he landed he would quickly change from his plane pajamas to a fancier outfit to surprise his true love.

All of this made William bouncy with a child-like giddiness. The two had been lovers since their first year of college, but William’s boyfriend had made it clear early on that senior year he planned to study abroad. Even though this separation was planned and temporary, the young, romantic William had swooned since the day he left. He practically looked the part too, his average, lean build and mousy brown hair perfectly accompanying the lovelorn persona.

Doing his best to distract himself, William grabbed for his phone, surprised to find an unknown number trying to reach him. With nothing better to do, he decided to accept the call. William did not notice all the other men in the airport simultaneously reaching for their phones and answering the same number through their devices.

“Men!” a rugged, masculine voice exclaimed from the other end. “It is our time to rise up to save our country!”

William was not prepared for this sudden call to action, but curious, he remained on the line. He did not realize his decision was already made for him.

“Men should be with women! Men need to become fathers again!”

William’s eyes glazed over at the strong words as the masculine voice continued to spout even more offensive remarks. It was jarring, aggravating to a point that…aggravating to a…aggravating to his dick.

William let the man’s uproar of commands project on, unaware of the small boner that rose from his soft pants as insults were delivered at his masculinity. Each of the man’s statements were absorbed willingly into William’s innermost self, adjusting the poor boy to the expectations of a complete stranger. William’s height rose dramatically, a soft breeze tickling against his shins as his pants rode higher up. His thighs and calves began to fill the empty space as the pants became a starchy material, khakis functional either indoors or outdoors. His shoes too, once cheap sandals, grew larger into massive athletic sneakers that (thanks to his manly privilege) passed as "business casual."

“Straighten out those backs and puff those chests!” the voice urged, and William obliged. His muscles tightened beneath the worn-out tee, which was quickly thickening into a sporty-yet-still-professional polo echoing a more standardized hue. William’s chest, now supported by hard-earned bulk, began to cover itself with little hairs while his entire being broadened and squared. The changes crawled out from underneath the new shirt down his arms, leaving William with tanned, lightly dusted appendages and thick mitts begging for a game of catch on the front lawn. A single finger was graced with a simple silver band.

William’s manhood continually throbbed with the man’s words, pulsing larger with every new mandate ordered upon him. “Your role is to reproduce a spitting-image, not a spitting savage!” William felt himself agree, tightening the typical leather belt that had secured itself around his stronger base. His evolving cock protested the loss of freedom, now a machine for fertilization built for a purpose other than sheer pleasure. “You are a man, so act like one!”

“I am a man!” William repeated, his vocal chords deepening with maturity and testosterone. His jaw squared out with manly aftershave, years brutishly piling onto his body to make him better prepared for fatherhood. William's hair flattened out into a neatly combed shape, a long-practiced art form that matched his weathered, experienced eyes.

“Families and jobs are the priority.” the man signed off. “Father our children, father our country!”

Bill placed the phone down, noticing his flight had just arrived. The 30-something-father watched as the passengers got off, noticing all the proud men with their families. The thought aroused his massive paternal schlong, quickly forcing him to spread his legs to make some room. Bill had just finished a week-long corporate retreat, talking business, the home life, and politics with the other like-minded men out on the greens. Now though, he was excited to get home to the wife and kids. So excited in fact that he had to hear his voice one last time.

“Hey hun, boarding the plane now. Have dinner ready by the time I get home." Bill's command held the dominance and authority of natural masculinity. "Tell the kiddos I'll see them soon, love ya.”

[a-driftamongopenstars]

alright, i finally finished Dragon Age the Veilguard.

tldr; 3/10. I didn't like it.

If you enjoyed the game and would rather keep enjoying it, please don't click the read more section as what follows is rather critical.

I can finally sit down with my thoughts and put them together in a more cohesive structured review, touching on most things that I wanted to address. I'll start with positives and then focus on the negatives.

Warning, this is VERY long.

Overall, I had a neutral to negative impression of DatV, which got worse by the end of the game. It had some good moments, but they were entirely unexplored and underutilized, suffering from bad writing. While the game itself is rather pretty, it didn't outweigh the dialogues, the stories and the lore butchering that took place.

1. Environment and visuals. 8/10.

I think Veilguard is a very beautiful game. I enjoyed exploring the corners of this new world, the little bits of environment design and storytelling that it had. It felt magical, certain locations were mesmerizing! I couldn't stop staring at the valley where you go to with Harding, the carcass of a titan.

2. Combat. 9/10.

I love flashy combat, I enjoy hack and slash, so until the very end of the game I was having most fun in combat. Yes there was repetitiveness but I tried to combat (hehe) it with changing my abilities and weapons every now and then. I liked combos and I liked timed parries. Enemy tactics got a bit boring by the end, but a few enemies still surprised me and challenged me.

.... That's where positives end. Now on to the negatives.

1. Characters. 2/10.

I don't understand what happened. Almost all the characters in this game were tuned down to a two-dimensional personality, "good" and "bad" - and absolutely no nuance. This happened not only to the villains, but to the different NPCs and even our companions. Their interests got narrowed down to single points of interest (Lucanis and coffee being a prime example to me), their motivations got watered down.

This is not what I expect from a Bioware game. I want to be challenged, I want to dislike characters or approve of their choices. I like characters who are messy and complex and don't always have their shit together.

I like villains who may have other reasons for their choices, other than "ba ha ha, I am so evil and I will do evil things". Where is Alexius who sold himself to the Elder one, just so he could save his beloved son? Where is Samson, forsaken by the Chantry and turned to red lyrium with his addiction? Where is Calpernia, misguided in her choices, just to free the slaves of Tevinter?

Where are the slaves of Tevinter anyway?? That's another topic.

2. Rook. 4/10.

On one hand, I liked playing Rook. They were stoic but with a humorous side, ready to get the job done, compassionate to other people.

The problem is that it's the only Rook you can really play. The protagonist is set in their ways and their dialogues and there is very little to roleplay. Rook really does feel like a gentle manager, trying to get everyone to play along nicely, while providing therapy every now and then, and is excluded from the majority of friendly interactions with other people. That awkward glance everyone gives you after their banter is embarrassing. The way you can third wheel people, the way the game actively offers you to leave a couple of animated conversations between other people - why even include those? Why not make Rook a part of the 'team'?

I did like Rook's dynamic with Solas. They got to see a different side of him, one that's not presented heavily in Inquisition. But like everything else, it felt surface level and underexplored.

3. Story arc. 2/10.

I am left unsatisfied with the story. The pacing threw me off so much nearly every quest, it was hard to stay on track. From "we need to solve this NOW" to "actually, let's all slow down and deal with our problems", the plot's priorities were all over the place. We kept hearing about the gods and their destructive oppression, but we saw surprisingly little of it. Yes, there was the Blight, yes there were Venatori and the Antaam, but they felt more like a video game fodder and dressing rather than a part of the story.

Not to mention that all of those things made little sense to me. Why would the gods align with aforementioned factions? Why would the aforementioned factions align with the elven gods? In-game explanation was not enough for me, it did not make sense. Not with the established lore in the previous games.

I also did not enjoy the ending. While the idea of Solas binding himself to the Veil is good and does make sense, what was suggested as the good ending (inviting Mythal to deal with Solas essentially) actually left me feeling awful. I sent a man, full of regrets and self-loathing, on a lonely journey to figure himself out. That... did not sit right with me at all. Neither did the fact that Northern Thedas, supposedly the point of the gods' attack, gets to live and flourish, while Southern Thedas is dying of starvation and blight. That is UNHINGED to me.

4. Music. 1/10.

There was no music. I remember one track. It was not memorable whatsoever and I can't believe they hired Hans Zimmer to do exactly nothing. Just wow.

5. Lore. ???/10.

And here is the worst offender. What was done with Dragon Age lore is unacceptable. I was doing a head-in-hands every five minutes. This was a slap in the face of so many fans who enjoyed the three prior games and delved into deep, interesting lore of various races, countries, cultures and religions. Veilguard showed a big middle finger to all that.

Everyone has already touched upon the sanitization of different factions. From the suddenly slaveless Tevinter to found family Antivan Crows, everything has been scrubbed clean and made sweet and palatable and "good".

The Dalish clans have been removed from existence as we know them. The Antaam left the Qun? Don't even get me started on that. The Chantry has no influence in this game? Really? The Chantry? The biggest religion in Thedas? The one that we know has heavy presence in the Anderfels, the Black Divine in Tevinter? That Chantry?

I think it really hit me how disrespectful the game is during the quest of saving the Dalish elves, where apparently Elgar'nan's Venatori, uplifted to be his servants and chosen people, were trying to sacrifice them. It's a gross and oddly telling idea that the ancient Elven god turned to a faction of racist mages to sacrifice elven people. I actually can't believe I'm writing this. Just how much are you going to shaft these people? Mindboggling.

There is a lot more I have to say on this specific topic, and I probably will later, but the idea is this.

6. Romances. 2/10.

Whoever said this is a game with romance lied so hard. So hard. The romance was atrocious. From the badly written flirting to the lack of romantic scenes (I romanced Davrin), to the poorly timed and awkward 'final' romance moment... It was atrocious. I felt no connection between Rook and Davrin beyond what game was telling me. My actual companions got more screen time with their romances than me and my LI.

Damn, even Evka and Antoine, my single most beloved NPCs in this game, had more romance going on that my Rook.

---

All in all, Veilguard was a massive let down. After having enjoyed the first 3 games many times over, with multiple playthroughs, I was so excited to see how the story of the Inquisition, of the elves, would end. When I saw the first trailer for VG, I knew I would never get to see it. When I played the game, I was left with disappointment and disdain.

I'm glad there are people who enjoyed this game, genuinely. I'm sure there's something to find for anyone, but it was not for me. Nor was it for many other people. It was a let down. I feel like I'll never get the conclusion I wanted - so I'll have to write my own I guess.

I have more thoughts on this game that I might be sharing, but for now this is the review I wanted to write. Thanks for reading!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Contronyms

Contronym

A word that has two meanings that are opposite or nearly opposite.

Example: Left means both “leave” (two people had left) and “remain” (How many people are left?), which are antonyms.

An antonym is a word that is opposite in meaning to another.

Contronyms are also known as Janus words.

Janus was an ancient Roman god with two faces that looked in opposite directions.

Another term for these words is auto-antonym, or a word that means the opposite of itself.

Technical terms for this phenomenon are enantiosemy, enantionymy, or antilogy.

Examples of Contronyms

Cleave

Comes from two different Old English words, clēofan and cleofian, which is how it got these two opposite meanings.

Cleave: to split, to separate (Owen swung the axe down hard in order to cleave the log into two even pieces.)

Cleave: to adhere closely, to stick (Young beaver pups cleave to their mother in the water until they are strong enough to swim on their own.)

Dust

When used as a verb, is a contronym.

Dust: to wipe the dust from (Every Saturday, he would dust the nicknacks on the bookshelves to keep them clean.)

Dust: to sprinkle with a powder or dust (The baker liked to dust their pumpkin bread with just a sprinkle of cinnamon.)

Overlook

Overlook: to fail to notice, perceive, or consider (I hadn’t finished the last two homework questions, but I hoped my teacher would overlook it and give me full marks anyway.)

Overlook: to look after, oversee, or supervise (The manager was required to personally overlook the transfer of valuable materials every evening.)

Sanction

Sanction: to authorize, approve, or allow (My parents wouldn’t sanction video games in our home because they thought they were too violent.)

Sanction: to penalize (The school said they were going to sanction the students for arriving late to class.)

Weather

The word weather is a contronym, but only when used as a verb.

Weather: to expose to the weather, to disintegrate (The paint on the house was chipped and weathered from the decades of rain and snow.)

Weather: to endure (We weren’t sure that we would be able to weather the storm if we didn’t find shelter.)

Back Up

Back up: to support (Ultimately, the scientists were unable to back up their claims with hard evidence.)

Back up: to retreat (The zebras backed up when they spotted the alligators in the water.)

Fine

The adjective fine has the potential to lead to some real misunderstandings about just how excellent (or not) something is.

Fine: of superior or best quality (To prepare for the Queen’s visit, the household staff cleaned the fine linens and polished the best silver.)

Fine (informal): satisfactorily, acceptably (Sandra thought her performance was fine, but nothing special, so she was surprised when she won second place.)

Original

The adjective original is an example of a contronym.

Original: belonging to the beginning of something (Despite being hundreds of years old, the painting was still in its original frame.)

Original: new, fresh, inventive (While sitting in the bathtub, the inventor was struck with an original idea.)

Pitted

The contronym pitted often causes confusion at the grocery store.

Pitted: having pits; in the sense of “mark or indent” (The sailor’s face was pitted and craggy from the wind and salt water.)

Pitted: having the pit removed; in the sense of “stone of a fruit” (My mom reminded me to buy the pitted cherries, because she didn’t want to take out the stones herself.)

Bound

Bound is an example of a contronym that has two different meanings because it actually has two different etymologies. The first meaning comes from the Old English bindan. The second meaning comes from the Old Norse būinn, “to get ready.”

Bound: tied, fastened or secured with a band or bond (The Mountie rushed to save the woman who was bound to the railroad tracks.)

Bound: going or intending to go, destined [for] (With all of their talents, the band was bound to be a success.)

Source ⚜ More: Basics & Refreshers ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[writersblockiskillingme]

Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.

The Fall Of Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.

Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes

Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!

The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.

Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.

His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.

His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.

He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.

He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.

She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.

He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.

Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.

He knew that this is different. He felt it.

Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.

Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.

Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.

He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.

Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.

It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.

His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.

The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.

Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.

Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.

Haunting him.

Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...

She should have won.

Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.

He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.

He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.

He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.

He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.

It was still wet from her tears.

He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.

Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.

When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.

Never out of love.

Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.

As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.

Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.

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