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rafayelxsylusho · 2 days ago

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How do the LADS men fu¢k the jealousy out of you.

Xavier/Rafayel

Already working on Caleb/Zayne/Sylus

TW: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Xavier 🌟🌟

The training session had been grueling, as all of all of your sessions tended to be. You pushed the new recruits hard, demanding perfection in every drill and exercise. They needed to be in peak form to face the horrors that awaited them out there in the No-Hunt Zones, battling the vicious creatures known as Wanderers.

The training session had wrapped up, and Xavier was wiping sweat from his brow with a towel, his chest heaving slightly from exertion. That's when you noticed the gaggle of giggling girls from his team hovering nearby, all batting their eyelashes at him and whispering to each other.

Typical. You could practically see the hearts floating above their heads as they fawned over their fearless leader. It was always the same - his reputation as the most successful Hunter in Linkon City tended to have that effect on people. Especially the young, impressionable rookie girls fresh out of training.

As you watched the scene unfold, a flicker of annoyance flashed across your face. The way they kept asking question after question, giggling at every word that fell from Xavier's lips, was starting to get on your nerves.

Don't they have anything better to do than hang around him like a pack of lovestruck puppies? you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of possessiveness. This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed such a display, but it was no less grating.

Shaking your head, you decided to head to the locker room and get cleaned up after the long day of training. As you walked away, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation:

"...did you really kill 70,000 Wanderers all by yourself?" a blonde girl gushed.

"And with a sword, no less! I can't believe you wield it with such skill and precision," another chimed in.

You turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body as you tried to wash away the irritation. But even as you stood there, the image of them hanging off Xavier kept flashing through your mind.

Little did you know, the seeds of jealousy planted by their behavior would only grow more tangled and thorny as the day went on.

As you stepped out of the shower and started dressing you overheard two of the girls from Xavier's team. They were huddled together, whispering and giggling, clearly gossiping about their beloved leader. You froze, not wanting them to know you were within earshot, as they continued their hushed conversation.

"I swear, I've seen him around the headquarters a bunch of times, but he's never mentioned anyone special," the first girl said, her voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and envy. "Maybe he's just too focused on hunting to settle down with anyone."

"I don't know, Sarah. A guy like that? I bet he has girls throwing themselves at him all the time," the second girl, whose name you didn't catch, speculated. "Did you see the way some of the new recruits were fawning over him today? I'm surprised he can even walk with all that ego inflating!"

Just then, the second girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god, what if... what if he's actually gay? That would explain why he's never been spotted with anyone."

Sarah scoffed. "No way. I've seen the way he looks at y/n. Trust me, he's into girls... and I don't think he's the type to hide it if he was seeing someone."

"Well, if he's not taken, then maybe one of us should make a move. I mean, he's just so... captivating. Those piercing blue eyes, that chiseled jaw, that amazing body..." She sighed dreamily.

Her friend nodded eagerly, a similar starstruck look on her face. "I know, right? And he's so brave and skilled too. He's like, the total package."

Sarah giggled conspiratorially. "So what do you say, Lisa? Should we have a little competition to see who can get his attention first? Loser buys the winner dinner at that fancy new restaurant downtown?"

Lisa licked her lips, a determined glint in her eye. "You're on, Sarah. But I warn you - I play to win. That hottie is mine!"

You slam the door of your locker hard enough to make the metal clang and rattle. The room fell silent for a moment before the whispers restarted, more subdued this time.

As you exited the locker room, you couldn't shake the feeling that their stupid gossip had only added to the growing uneasiness you felt about Xavier's apparent single status.

Why hasn't he mentioned me? Does he not want people to know about us? Or is he just so used to women throwing themselves at him that he doesn't think he needs to bother? you wondered, your mind racing with increasingly paranoid thoughts

As you stepped out of the locker room, you were greeted by the sight of Xavier leaning casually against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up as you approached, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Hey there," he greeted you, pushing off from the wall and falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the Hunters Association headquarters. "I was starting to think you might have snuck out the back way to avoid me." He chuckled, playfully nudging your shoulder with his own.

As you walked together, you couldn't shake the lingering irritation from overhearing the other girls' conversation in the locker room. You knew it was silly to be jealous, but you couldn't help feeling a flare of possessiveness at the thought of anyone else trying to stake a claim on Xavier.

As the two of you walked hand in hand towards your apartment building, you decided to bring up the elephant in the room. Glancing up at Xavier, you asked him about his thoughts on the day's training session with his team.

"How was the training with your team today? How did it go?" you inquired, genuinely interested in his take on the day's events.

Xavier was quiet for a moment, considering his response. "It went well, actually. There were a couple of new girls who really stood out, to be honest. They were strong, quick learners, and seemed to have a real knack for the techniques I was teaching."

"Do you think they have a real shot at making it as Hunters?" you asked, genuinely curious what Xavier thought of their potential.

He was silent for a long moment, considering his next words carefully. "Hard to say. They have the physical capability, but being a successful Hunter takes so much more than just brawn. It requires heart, determination, and a deep commitment to protecting others. We'll see how they hold up under pressure in the long run."

Without really thinking about it, you let go of his hand, feeling the need to put some distance between the two of you.

"I think I'm going to sleep early tonight," you announced abruptly, hoping to cut the conversation short before your jealousy got the better of you. "I'm feeling really tired after today."

Xavier looked down at you, a flicker of concern in his blue eyes as he sensed the sudden shift in your mood. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder. "You've been quiet since we left the headquarters. Did something happen that I should know about?"

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "Look, I know today was a long day, but I was thinking... what if we stopped by that little hotpot place on our way home? We could share a meal and unwind a bit before calling it a night. My treat, of course."

Xavier smiled at you, hoping to coax a similar smile out of you in return. "Unless you'd rather just head home and collapse into bed. I completely understand if you're too tired to go out tonight." He kept his tone light and casual, not wanting to pressure you into anything, but secretly hoping you would agree to spend a little more time with him before the night was over.

As the jealous thoughts swirled in your mind, you felt your grip on your temper slipping away. Without really considering the harshness of your words, you blurted out your next sentence, your voice dripping with an unintended bitterness.

"No, but I think Sarah or Lisa would be more than happy to go with you instead," you snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness of your tone. As soon as the words left your lips, you wanted to take them back, but it was too late.

Xavier's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden outburst, and he stopped walking abruptly, forcing you to halt alongside him. He looked down at you, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his handsome face as he tried to process your jealous accusation.

"What are you talking about, y/n?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing with concern. "Sarah and Lisa are on my team, yes, but that doesn't mean I have any intention of asking them out. Why would you even say something like that?"

Xavier stared at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst of jealousy. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off abruptly.

"Forget it, okay? Just... just forget I said anything," you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had let your jealousy get the best of you like that.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving Xavier standing there looking bewildered. You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn't seem to control the green-eyed monster raging inside you.

As you neared your apartment building, you hesitated, part of you wanting to go back and apologize to Xavier, and another part of you stubbornly insisting that he should be the one to come after you, to reassure you that you were the only one he wanted.

Maybe I should just go inside and cool off, you thought to yourself, knowing that you were still too worked up to have a rational conversation at the moment. I'll apologize properly later, when I'm not so angry and jealous anymore.

As you fumbled with the key, your hands still shaking slightly from the lingering anger and emotion, you finally managed to unlock the door to your apartment. Stepping inside, you quickly turned to lock the door behind you, wanting nothing more than the solitude and safety of your private sanctuary.

But as your hand reached for the lock, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, a gasp escaping your lips.

There, standing just a few feet inside the darkened apartment, was none other than Xavier. For a moment, you simply stared at him in shock, your eyes wide and your heart pounding in your chest. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, not the least of which was a fierce mix of relief and guilt.

Before you could even formulate an apology, Xavier began walking towards you with a determined stride. His blue eyes flashed with a mix of emotions - hurt, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. He stopped just a breath away from you, his tall frame looming over your own.

"Is that what you're going to do, y/n?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You're going to act like a brat and accuse me of being interested in other girls, only to run off and try to slam the door in my face?"

Xavier shook his head slowly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I thought we were past this kind of jealousy and insecurity. I've never given you any reason to doubt me or question where my loyalties lie."

Xavier's grip tightened in your hair as he pulled you flush against his firm chest, his other hand coming up to grip your hip possessively. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his intense, smoldering gaze.

"Do you need a reminder of what you mean to me?" he growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

His lips crashed against yours in a searing, dominating kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

When he finally pulled back, you were both left panting and flushed, your bodies pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat against your own.

"Only a fool would ever look at anyone else when they have you," Xavier rasped, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip. "You're all I see, y/n. You're all I want."

He stepped even closer, if that was possible, until you were pinned helplessly between his hard, muscular body and the wall behind you.

"I had other plans for tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Like holding you close, feeding you a nice dinner, and then slowly, gently making love to you all night long until we both collapsed from exhaustion."

Xavier's hand slid from your hip to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh possessively as he ground his hardening cock against your belly. "But it seems like you need a different kind of reminder first."

His other hand released your hair to grip your jaw, tilting your head to the side to expose the column of your throat. "So I'm going to fuck the jealousy out of you," he growled, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that the only thought in your pretty little head will be my name."

Xavier's lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as his hands roamed greedily over your curves. "And then, once I've erased every trace of doubt from your mind, I'm going to fuck you all over again, until you're drowning in pleasure and completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that I belong to you."

He nipped sharply at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Does that sound good, baby? Or do you need more convincing?" Xavier purred, his voice a sinful promise of all the deliciously wicked things he intended to do to your willing body.

Xavier silenced your attempted apology with another searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth and leaving you breathless. When he finally pulled back, his eyes flashed with a dark, hungry intensity.

"Apology not accepted," he growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of anger. "You wanted to be a brat, so now you're going to be treated like one."

His hands made quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them from your body in his haste to bare your flesh to his greedy gaze. Buttons popped and fabric ripped, the sound of destruction filling the air as Xavier laid waste to your wardrobe.

In a matter of moments, you stood before him, naked and vulnerable, your skin flushed and tingling from his rough touches. Xavier drank in the sight of you, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his large hands skimming over your curves. "Feel how hard you make me, baby?" Xavier panted against your lips, his hips rolling in a slow, filthy grind. "You're going to take care of that later, with your cunt. But first..."

His fingers plunged deep inside your fluttering channel, pumping in and out of your tight heat with a punishing rhythm.

Xavier paused, his fingers still buried deep inside your clenching heat as he gazed at you with an intense, searching look. His brow furrowed as he studied your flushed and panting face, his thumb circling your clit with maddeningly light touches.

"Tell me what got you so jealous baby," he demanded, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I want to hear you say it out loud. I want to know exactly what made you doubt me, doubt us, like this."

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging at the sensitive peak until it stiffened into a hard, aching point.

“Ngh-Xav—” The whimpers just won’t stop spilling from your lips, his gaze drilling into your eyes and falling straight to your drenching cunt. “I- fuck-”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a dark, commanding rumble.

"Talk to me like a big girl, y/n," he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Use your words, baby.

His fingers pumped faster inside your dripping cunt, his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. The obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as Xavier fingered you hard and fast, determined to wring an answer from your lips.

"Sarah and Lisa they were saying.....ah fuckkk!" You try to tell him about what you heard but his fingers are still deep inside you hitting the perfect spot.

"Sarah and Lisa?" he repeated, a sharp edge to his voice. "You're jealous because of them? Because of my teammates?"

He withdrew his fingers from your clenching heat abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he spun you around and bent you over the arm of the couch, your bare ass and dripping pussy on full display.

Xavier delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing through the room. "Let me make one thing crystal fucking clear," he snarled, rubbing the reddening flesh. "I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Them."

Another smack landed on your other cheek, harder than the first. "The only reason they were even talking to me was because we were discussing strategy and team dynamics. Nothing more, nothing less."

He gripped your hips punishingly, yanking you back against the thick ridge of his cock. "You're the only one I want, y/n. The only one I crave. The only one I fucking love." To punctuate his words, Xavier thrust his hips forward, grinding his clothed erection against your soaked folds.

Xavier knelt down behind you, his strong hands gripping your thighs and pushing your legs apart. He forced your knees to bend, opening you wide and exposing your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Keep these legs spread for me, baby," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire."I want to see this pretty pussy as I eat it."

With that, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your tangy essence with a low moan. He licked and suckled at your folds, his skilled mouth reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess in record time.

He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud with expert precision. Two fingers plunged deep into your clenching channel, pumping in and out of your soaked heat.

"Mmm, sweet girl making such a mess" Xavier purred, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

He spat directly onto your dripping, glistening folds, watching as fresh waves of your arousal gushed out to coat his chin and drip down onto the couch below. Without hesitation, he leaned in and began to lap at the slickness, sucking and slurping up every drop of your essence.

"Your taste is intoxicating," he groaned, his tongue delving deeper to plunder your fluttering channel. "I could spend hours feasting on this pretty pussy and never get enough."

Xavier's hands slid higher, gripping the globes of your ass and kneading the pliant flesh. He spread you wider, opening you fully to his relentless onslaught as he ate you like a man possessed.

"Please, don't stop," you whimper, your hips bucking needily against his face as you desperately seek more of that blissful friction.

Xavier pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal as he fixed you with a stern, disapproving glare. He released your thighs, allowing them to close with a soft, intimate sound, then you feel him gripping your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap.

"No," he said firmly, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Good girls get everything they want. Brats like you don't get to cum when they need it."

He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain sending a jolt through your body. Xavier rubbed the reddening flesh soothingly.

"Since you seem determined to act like a spoiled brat, I think it's only fitting that you be treated as one," he said, a wicked glint in his eye. "You can sit here and squirm on my lap, feeling my hard cock through my pants, until I decide you've learned your lesson."

Xavier's other hand slid up your spine, wrapping around the nape of your neck. He tilted your head to the side, exposing the slender column of your throat to his hungry mouth. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

He rocked his hips upwards, grinding his rigid length against your aching, empty sex. The thin fabric of his pants created a maddening barrier between you, allowing you to feel the shape and size of him but denying you the sweet friction you craved.

"Be a good brat and sit still," Xavier ordered, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "We have all night long for me to teach you the consequences of jealousy and insecurity."

Xavier's fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock from his pants. The moment his length sprang out, he gripped your hips and lifted you slightly, allowing his shaft to slap against your dripping, swollen clit a couple times in quick succession.

"Feel that, baby?" he whispered, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "Feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

He pinched your nipple hard, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers as he continued his torturous teasing. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the fire in your core.

His cockhead pushing against your entrance before sliding back up to bump against your clit. He set a maddeningly slow, teasing rhythm, denying you the deep penetration you desperately craved.

"Please..." you whimpered, your body writhing in his lap as you tried to chase more of that glorious friction. "Please, Xavier...I need...I need..."

"Need what, sweetgirl?" he purred, a wicked glint in his eye as he watched you squirm. "Tell me what you need. Use your words, brat."

His hand slid from your breast to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he spread your leg further to the side. This new position allowed him to grind the thick ridge of his cock directly against your dripping slit, the head catching on your entrance with each torturous thrust.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Xavier growled, his voice a dark, sinful rumble. "Tell me what it would feel like to have my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt. Filling you up so deep and so fucking full..."

He punctuated his words with a sharp, sudden thrust, his cockhead popping inside your entrance before quickly pulling back out. The brief, fleeting sensation of fullness only served to heighten your desperate arousal and frustration.

Xavier's eyes darkened with lust as he watched your eyes flutter shut, your head lolling back in ecstasy with each maddeningly slow thrust. The needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips only fueled his own desire, his cock throbbing and leaking against your soaked folds.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Let me hear how much you want it. Let me hear how badly you need my cock."

He gripped your thighs tighter, spreading your legs wider as he ground his hips against yours with ruthless precision. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent electric shocks of pleasure zipping up your spine, your back arching as you chased the sensation.

"Please, Xavier..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a desperate moan. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so badly. I need you to fill me up and fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm screaming your name..."

"Since you asked so nicely, baby..." he growled against your lips, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "I suppose I can give you what you need."

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he lifted you up with a grunt of effort. He positioned your dripping, aching sex directly over his throbbing, engorged cock, the swollen head nudging against your entrance with a teasing promise of the pleasure to come.

With that, he surged upwards, driving his thick, pulsing shaft deep into your tight, clenching heat. Your body stretched deliciously around his girth as he hilts inside you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your ass with a lewd slap.

"FUCK!" you both screamed in unison as your bodies joined, your voices echoing off the walls.

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided your movements. "That's it, baby. Ride me just like that," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Use these sexy legs and fuck yourself on my cock until you make yourself cum."

He leaned forward, capturing your nipple between his teeth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, sending a jolt of pained pleasure straight to your core. At the same time, one of his hands slid around to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and tilting your hips to take him even deeper.

"That's it. Fuck...I can feel you getting closer," he groaned, his hot breath washing over your breast. "Your cunt is squeezing me so fucking tight."

Xavier's grip tightened on your hips as he watched your core slide up and down his shaft, your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around him with each upward glide. The exquisite sensation of your silken heat gripping his cock so tightly sent a surge of primal lust crashing through his veins, his balls drawing up tight against his body as his own release approached.

"That's it, baby. Fuck...keep squeezing my cock just like that," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble.

The words “C-cumming-” are barely starting words out of your mouth before it crashes into you headfirst. You arch your spine into the perfect semi-circle as your orgasm crashed over you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your fingers clawing at his skin as you clung to him for dear life, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

"Fuck....fuck..fu...!" Xavier roared, his voice echoing off the walls as your velvet walls clamped down on his cock like a vice. The sensation of your cunt spasming and fluttering around his shaft pushed him over the edge, his own release slamming into him.

He slammed his hips upwards one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your quivering heat as his cock jerked and pulsed. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, coating your walls with his seed as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Xavier's body shuddered and jerked as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense climax, holding your trembling form tightly against his chest. He peppered your neck and shoulder with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves possessively as he slowly came down from the high of his release.

Xavier tangled his fingers in your hair, gripping the silky strands gently as he tilted your head back to look up at him. His blue eyes searched yours intensely, the emotion and sincerity in their depths making your heart flutter in your chest.

He brushed a tender kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a long moment. "I meant what I said before. I love you more than anything in this world or any other. You're my everything, my reason for living."

"Believe me, my love," he murmured, his voice a low, fervent whisper. "No one can ever take your place in my heart. It belongs to you, completely and utterly, now and forever."

Rafayel 🐡

Rafayel was already awake, his mind too restless to sleep any longer. He sat on the balcony of the resort hotel, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The desert landscape seemed to glow in the early morning light, the sand dunes casting long shadows across the barren expanse.

He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching and turned to see you emerge from the bedroom, your hair still tousled with sleep. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he took in your appearance, remembering the feel of your body pressed against his as you slept.

Rising from the balcony chair, he crossed the distance between you and took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes met yours, a flicker of mischief dancing in their purple-pink depths.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "I have to run some errands at the art gallery today. Would you come with me? I promise it won't take long."

He knew he was being selfish, asking you to accompany him. But the thought of spending even a moment away from you was unbearable, especially in a place like this that felt so foreign and oppressive to him. He needed your presence, your calming influence, to ground him.

"Fine, but you have to invite me some dinner after" you say rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

Rafayel leaned back and laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and gratitude. "Dinner it is," he agreed, his voice warm with a newfound lightness. "I know a little place not far from here, a local gem hidden away in the back alleys of the city. They serve the most divine seafood, as fresh as if it was caught that very day."

An hour later, you emerged from the bedroom dressed for the day ahead. Rafayel had already finished getting ready, looking devastatingly handsome in a crisp linen shirt the color of a summer sky and tailored trousers that hugged his lean frame. He leaned against the wall opposite the bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you approach.

"Well, don't you look good enough to eat," he purred, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. His hands came up to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he dipped his head down to steal a heated kiss. He lingered for a long moment, savoring the taste of your lips and the feeling of your body pressed against his.

As you ate breakfast, Rafayel couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He watched as you bit into a piece of fruit, your lips parting and your tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of juice. He felt a surge of desire rush through him, his body responding to the simple, intimate gesture with a fervor that surprised even him.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his own, squeezing your fingers gently as he leaned in closer to you. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me today," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I don't think I could have faced that place alone."

As you guys arrived at the gallery, a sense of unease began to creep over Rafayel. He had been looking forward to seeing Thomas and discuss some important business matters they had to attend to. However, as you stepped inside the cool, air-conditioned space, Rafayel's brow furrowed in confusion.

As you turned a corner, Rafayel spotted a note taped to the wall, the paper fluttering slightly in the breeze from the AC vent. He released your hand and stepped forward, plucking the note from the wall and unfolding it with a sense of growing trepidation.

The note was from Thomas, the handwriting hurried and slightly illegible.

Thomas wrote that something urgent had come up, a family emergency that required his immediate attention. He apologized for not being there and promised to make it up to Rafayel soon. However, he also mentioned that there was a package waiting for Rafayel in his office, something important that he needed to deal with right away.

"Well, I suppose you'll just have to play the role of my assistant for the day," he murmured " And i can't leave without my important...package"

" I wouldn't call myself a package"

Rafayel's head snapped towards the source of the voice, his body tensing up as he recognized the redhead girl emerging from the office. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like irritation and unease flashing across his face before it settled into a blank, guarded expression.

Releasing you from his embrace, Rafayel took a step back, putting a bit of distance between your bodies. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as he regarded the girl warily.

It was clear he knew her, though from the look on his face, not particularly well or fondly. There was a history there, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air between them. Rafayel's posture was defensive, his body language radiating a subtle warning.

The girl smirked, her green eyes glinting with a smug satisfaction as she took in the scene before her - Rafayel's guarded stance, your confusion, the charged atmosphere. She was enjoying the clear discomfort radiating off of Rafayel, reveling in catching him off guard.

"Rafayel," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I've been waiting for you. I do hope I won't be kept waiting much longer"

Rafayel's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he met her gaze head on. "Celine," he acknowledged coolly, his voice tight. "I apologize for the delay. I had some...unexpected business to attend to first."

He glanced back at you, a silent apology and promise in his eyes before turning his attention back to Celine. "What brings you here? I thought we had an arrangement..."

Celine's lips curled into a sharp, wicked smile at Rafayel's words, a glint of triumph in her green eyes. She took a step closer to him, invading his personal space as she gazed up at him with a challenging smirk.

"Oh, I remember our arrangement perfectly, darling, but I'm afraid things have...changed. I need to discuss some new terms with you. In private"

She jerked her head towards the office, a clear gesture for him to follow her. There was a commanding edge to her voice, a tone that brooked no argument or refusal.

Rafayel's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glared down at Celine. It was clear he was not pleased with this development, the interruption to his plans and the demand for a private audience. He glanced back at you, a flicker of apology and frustration in his eyes.

"I apologize, cutie," he said softly, his voice tight. "I won't be long. Wait for me here? "

He didn't wait for your response before turning on his heel and striding towards the office, Celine falling into step beside him. As they disappeared through the door, Rafayel cast one last lingering look your way, a silent promise that he would explain everything once he was free of this unexpected obligation.

Left alone in the gallery, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud. Who was this woman, and what hold did she have over Rafayel? And more importantly, what secrets were they hiding from you?

An hour had passed since Rafayel had disappeared into the office with Celine, each minute feeling like an eternity as you waited anxiously in the gallery. The once vibrant space now felt cold and sterile, the art on the walls losing their luster as worry gnawed at you.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, you made your way towards the office, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the closed door. You raised your hand, knuckles poised to rap against the wood, when you heard the muffled sound of raised voices from within.

Rafayel's voice, low and angry, cut through the silence. "I can't believe you're doing this, Celine. I thought we had an understanding."

Celine's voice, sharp and mocking, followed. "Circumstances change, darling. And you're hardly in a position to refuse me anything."

You froze, your hand hovering inches from the door as you strained to hear more. But the voices fell silent, a tense, heavy quiet descending upon the office.

With a deep breath, you knocked firmly on the door, your nerves on edge. "Rafayel? It's me. I'm going to step out for a bit, maybe do some shopping. I'll call you when I'm done, alright?"

As you approached the office door, ready to knock once more, Celine emerged from within. She stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she paused, looking you up and down with a critical, almost disdainful eye.

Celine's gaze lingered on you for a long moment, a smirk playing at the corners of her painted lips. She lifted a hand, pretending to wipe at the corner of her mouth with a dainty finger, a mocking gesture that sent a chill down your spine.

She tsked softly, shaking her head as she stepped closer to you. There was a wicked glint in her green eyes, a cruel amusement that made your skin crawl.

"Look who it is. Rafayel's little pet, come to check on her master?"

Celine circled you like a shark, her heels clicking an ominous rhythm on the floor. She leaned in closer, her perfume washing over you, the scent cloying and overwhelming.

"I must say, darling, she purred, her breath hot against your ear. You don't look like you have what it takes to keep a man like Rafayel satisfied. I do hope you're not feeling...inadequate?"

She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the gallery. The cruelty in her eyes was unmistakable, the malice behind her words impossible to ignore.

Celine smirked at your stunned silence, your obvious discomfort clearly amusing her. She took a step back, smoothing down her tailored suit jacket with a self-satisfied air.

"Well, this has been...enlightening," she commented, a mocking lilt to her voice. She glanced down at her manicured nails, picking at a nonexistent speck of lint.

"But I must go and clean myself up. All this...business can be so messy, don't you think?"

With a final, cruel smile thrown your way, Celine turned on her heel and sauntered off, disappearing down the hallway towards the restrooms, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling.

With a sense of trepidation and growing unease, you pushed open the office door, the hinges creaking softly as it swung inward. As you stepped inside, your gaze fell upon Rafayel, seated behind the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.

He looked up as you entered, his purple-pink eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his expression, a tension in his shoulders that spoke of the difficult conversation he had just endured. The room was filled with a heavy, charged silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and secrets.

"Don't let her get to you. Celine is...a complicated part of my past. But you don't need to worry about her.

"Is she now?" You ask, " well since she thinks I'm not good enough to keep you satisfied I think I know what kind of relationship you had"

Rafayel's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt at your accusation. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk as he fixed you with an intense, almost accusing stare. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the space.

He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he seemed to struggle with how to respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tight, tinged with a bitterness you had never heard before.

"You think you know, but you have no idea," he bit out, his words sharp and cutting. "Celine and I...we had a business arrangement. Nothing more.

He paused, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your reaction. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that made your heart ache.

Rafayel leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he studied your jealous expression. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more intense.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice even as his gaze remained serious. "you think I can't see it written all over your face, my love?"

He stood slowly, rising to his feet and rounding the desk until he stood before you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

As you turned to leave, unable to bear the tension and uncertainty any longer, Rafayel's hand shot out and caught your wrist in a firm grip. He pulled you back towards him, his eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.

"Where do you think you're going, cutie?" he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Before you could respond, he had already crossed the room and closed the office door with a sharp click.

"I don't think I'm done with you just yet. We need to talk about this little...outburst of jealousy"

He stepped closer, backing you up until your back hit the door. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he gazed down at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal.

"Tell me, y/n", he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you really think so little of me? Of us? I thought you knew me better than that... But it seems I was wrong."

Rafayel's hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you effortlessly. He carried you towards the desk, sweeping aside the clutter of papers and art supplies before setting you down on the polished wood surface.

He stepped between your parted legs, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he leaned in close, his face mere inches from yours. The desk creaked softly beneath your combined weight, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the office.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the pulse jumping in his throat as he stared you down.

"I won't have you doubting me, doubting us", he said softly, but there was a steely undercurrent to his words. "Now, pretty...what makes you think you know the true nature of my relationship with Celine? What makes you think you know anything at all about the man you claim to love?"

As you began to stammer out an explanation, Rafayel silenced you by suddenly reaching between your thighs. His fingers deftly pushed your skirt up and out of the way, and in one sharp, aggressive motion, he ripped your panties clean off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his grasp.

You gasped, your body jolting at the sudden, intimate contact and the brutal destruction of your undergarment. Rafayel's eyes flashed with a wild, almost feral light as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Shhhhh", he hushed you, his fingers already delving beneath the tattered remains of your panties to stroke along your most sensitive flesh. "No more words out of your pretty mouth, my love. No more words at all."

He pushed your thighs further apart, making room for himself as he stepped even closer, the hard, muscular length of his body pressing against yours. His hand cupped your sex possessively, his thumb finding your clit and circling the tender bud with a maddening, teasing pressure.

Rafayel's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your feet up and outwards until your knees bent and your legs fell open, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. Your skirt, now bunched up around your waist, left you bare and vulnerable, the tattered remnants of your ruined panties dangling off one ankle.

He drank in the sight of your naked, glistening sex, his eyes darkening with lust and a possessive intensity that made your heart race. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate flesh.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a low, approving groan.

"You taste like heaven" he murmured against your flesh, his words muffled and distorted by his greedy mouthing at your sex.

" Raf.....the door isn't locked" you warn him.

Rafayel paused briefly in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a wicked, almost defiant grin. He seemed not at all concerned by the possibility of being caught in such a compromising position.

"Let them come," he challenged, a reckless edge to his voice. "Let the whole fucking world see me claiming what's mine. I don't care anymore."

With that, he dove back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that bordered on feral. His tongue pushed inside you, thrusting deep and hard, fucking you with a intensity that stole your breath.

One hand released your hip to slide up your body, pushing your shirt out of the way to expose your breasts. He palmed the soft mounds, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he rolled and plucked at your nipples.

Rafayel lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence as he stared up at you with a wicked, challenging grin. He seemed to relish the idea of being caught in such a compromising position, of giving the world a peek into the dark, passionate side of his nature.

"The walls are thin here", he murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "So it's up to you cutie, Do we keep your sweet cries of pleasure to ourselves...or do we let everyone outside hear just how much you love being fucked by me?"

As Rafayel's fingers pinched and rolled your nipple almost painfully, and his teeth clamped down hard on your sensitive clit, you could no longer hold back the tide of pleasure that crashed over you. A loud, wanton scream tore from your throat, echoing off the thin walls of the office and no doubt carrying out into the hallway beyond.

"Fuck, yes!" Rafayel growled in approval as he felt your body convulse beneath him, your juices flooding his mouth and chin. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue delving deep to catch every drop of your essence as he pushed you ruthlessly through your intense climax.

In a sudden, aggressive motion, Rafayel flipped you over onto your stomach on the desk. He pressed your chest down against the cool, smooth wood, the air forcing out of your lungs in a rush. Before you could catch your breath, he had already gripped your hips and tugged them back, bending you at the waist and exposing your bare, dripping sex to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at this ass", he growled, his hands kneading and squeezing the round globes roughly. "Such a perfect, fuckable ass. It's a crime to keep it hidden away"

He punctuated his words by delivering a sharp smack to one cheek, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. The sting quickly gave way to a warm, tingling pleasure that spread through your nerves, making you clench and tighten around nothing.

With that, he gripped the base of his thick, hard cock and rubbed the leaking tip teasingly along your slit. He coated himself in your juices, mixing them with the bead of precum that oozed from his slit. Then, with one hard, ruthless thrust, he buried himself inside your tight, clutching heat.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," he grunted, his hips flush against your ass as he savored the feel of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Such a perfect fucking fit for my cock. Like you were made just for me..."

Rafayel began to move, his hips pulling back until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the desk creaking and shaking beneath you with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Your face was pressed into the smooth wood, drool already beginning to pool and drip from the corner of your slack mouth. The sensation of being so thoroughly taken, so completely at the mercy of Rafayel's lust and desire, was overwhelming. It was almost too much, too intense.

Rafayel grabbed your arms, pulling them up and bending them at the elbows to either side of your head. He placed your palms flat against the desk, giving you something to hold onto as he continued his relentless, pounding assault on your pussy.

"Hold on tight, cutie", he growled, his voice strained with exertion and lust. "You're going to need to brace yourself for what comes next. I'm not going to hold back, not anymore."

Rafayel kept up his relentless pace, pounding into you with a single-minded determination. But despite the intensity of his thrusts and the building pleasure, he somehow avoided hitting that one special spot inside you that always sent you hurtling over the edge. It was as if he could read your mind, could sense your impending release, and was deliberately denying you that final push.

"Punishing you," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble in your ear. "Teasing you, making you beg so sweetly for something I can give you...but won't. Not yet."

"Don't you dare come until I say you can," he ordered, his voice a harsh, dominating bark. "You don't get to come until I've had my fill...until I've pumped this greedy cunt full of my seed and marked you as mine"

You found yourself begging, unable to hold back the desperate pleas that spilled from your lips. Your voice was high and thin, strained with the effort of holding back your rapidly approaching climax, of keeping your body from seizing control.

"Please, Rafayel, please!" you cried out, your fingers scrabbling against the smooth wood of the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensation. "Please, I need...I need to come. I can't...please, Rafayel!"

Tears of frustration and desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body shaking and trembling beneath Rafayel's ruthless onslaught. You were completely at his mercy, completely under his control. And in that moment, you knew you would do anything, say anything, to earn the release you so desperately craved.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips finding your ear. When he spoke, his voice was a low, dark rasp, each word deliberately enunciated.

"Don't. Ever. Doubt. Me."

He punctuated each word with a sharp, precise thrust of his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, grinding against that maddeningly elusive spot just out of reach. Your body shook and trembled, tears leaking from your clenched eyes as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle your increasingly desperate moans.

"Im. Yours."

Thrust.

"Completely. And. Totally."

Thrust.

"Yours"

Thrust

"So you'll wait. You'll wait until I give you permission. Until I grant you the release you so desperately crave. Until then...you'll take what I give you. Understand?"

He emphasized his demand with a particularly brutal thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clutching heat. He remained still for a long moment, his breath hot and heavy against your neck, his heart pounding against your back.

"Tell me you understand y/n"

As soon as the words "I do" left your lips, Rafayel let out a low growl of satisfaction. He angled your hips just so, tilting them up and back to align your body perfectly with his. And then, with a ferocity that stole your breath, he began to pound into that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Yes, just like that", he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

"That's it, baby", he encouraged, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "I can feel you getting close. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, trying to suck me in deeper. You're so fucking close, aren't you? Ready to explode like a fucking firework?"

He angled your hips again, changing the angle slightly, and suddenly you could feel the tension in your body pulling tighter, the coil wound to its breaking point. Your breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, your fingers scrabbling against the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the tidal wave of sensation threatening to sweep you away.

"Come for me, pretty girl", Rafayel demanded, his voice a low, dark command. "Come screaming my name, so everyone knows who makes you feel this fucking good. Now, fucking do it!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally allowed his own release to overtake him. Thick, scalding ropes of his seed painted your insides, marking you, claiming you as his own as he filled you with his essence.

The sensation of his hot cum flooding your core pushed you over the edge, your body seizing and convulsing beneath his as you came harder than you ever had before. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the thin walls, no doubt alerting everyone in the vicinity to your shared climax.

As the intense waves of your shared climax began to ebb, Rafayel collapsed against your back, his weight pressing you down into the desk. You both panted and gasped for air, bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a long moment, Rafayel rolled off of you, his softening cock slipping from your dripping cunt. He gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he pulled you up to sit on the edge of the desk. Your legs were shaky, and you leaned against him for support, not trusting your own balance just yet.

"Look at the mess we made," he murmurs, his voice still rough and strained. He gestures to the desk, streaked with your combined fluids, and the floor, splattered with the evidence of your passionate coupling.

"But it was worth it. Fuck, was it ever worth it. I love you, y/n," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it."

As you both stepped out of the office, still flushed and disheveled from your passionate encounter, you find Celine waiting. The young woman's eyes were round as saucers, her face a deep shade of red as she no doubt processed the sounds she had just witnessed emanating from the closed door.

Rafayel barely spared her a glance as he strode past, his arm around your waist to keep you steady. He paused just before exiting the building and turned to face Celine, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Keep the paintings, Celine", he instructed, his voice still rough and low from their recent activities. "Our agreement is null and void, effective immediately. Consider this a parting gift, for your trouble."

Celine's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if trying to formulate a response, but no words came out. She looked stunned, her gaze flickering between you and Rafayel.

"And say hi to the family for me, dear cousin", Rafayel added with a mocking, almost cruel edge to his voice.

With that parting shot, he ushered you out into the brilliant sunlight, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool interior of the gallery.

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summertimesadnessirl · 15 hours ago

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Nah. This just makes me neurotic. I need new things to chew on.

If people would stop flooding all my feeds and my Kindle books and movie feed with stuff designed to make me miserable and piss me off and think the story is making fun of me even when I buy print books, I might give the little gay autistic robots in my phone a break and let them defrag. I used to do things like that but literally anytime I do anything other than use social media, even do things to post to my social media, the gangstalking increases. Actually any time I do anything, the gangstalking increases. But staring at the wall makes me hate myself so the little gay autistic robots will have to deal. Too much sleeping makes you fat and wrecks your joints.

Hey. Your brain needs to de-frag. Literally it needs you to sit there and space out.

If you want your memory or executive function to improve, stare out a window at the skyline or sidewalk or trees or birds on the electrical wires for like 20+ minutes per day. (With no other stimulation like a podcast or TV if you can manage but hey baby steps innit). If you're fortunate enough to have safe outside with any bits of nature, go stare closely at a 1 meter square of grass and trip out on the bugs and shapes of grasses and stuff.

Literally this will make you smarter. Our brains HAVE TO HAVE this zone out time to do important stuff behind the scenes. This does not happen during sleep, it's something else.

That weird pressurized feeling you get sometimes might be your brain on no defrag.

Give your brain a Daily Dose Of De-Frag.

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siddyyyyyyyy · 2 days ago

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Desperation Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

MDNI wc: 1.8K warnings: smut, softdom!bruce, p in v, light spanking (?), praise, was too lazy to write the aftercare, so just imagine it summary: Bruce gets frustrated at the charity event and eventually takes it out on you once you are home. a/n: divider (@saradika-graphics), i felt myself cringe while writing this, and that usually means that i did well. but still, im sorry if it's too cheesy or unrealistic, i did my best to give you my vision😖

You know that Bruce despises events like these, too many rich people who never had to work a single day in their life, who always try to brag to him about the most unimpressive stuff, or try to have intelligent conversations about economics or social studies. It‘s all the same stuff as well, it‘s always the same ‘intelligent‘ discoveries these people try to tell him about. Fortunately, you only had to hear about Bruce complains and never had to fave these people on your own. Unfortunately, you convinced your husband to tag along with him tonight.

You didn‘t expect for a lot of people to approach the both of you, but it still happened, as Bruce is used to. But when they did, they never really acknowledged you. The very least someone did acknowledge you, was to simply give you a side glance before continuing to ‘subtly‘ brag about about how many cars he has.

Bruce‘s hand stays at its familiar place, around your waist, giving you an occasional squeeze. The squeezes become more frequent as the people around the round table keep talking to him, not giving him a chance to even steal a sip of his drink. You notice his growing frustration, even when he hides it well. The guests around the ball room are chatting amongst themselves, creating a bubble of mixed conversations, together with the subtle scent of alcohol and different perfumes. No doubts, expensive.

Finally, Bruce has a brilliant idea, and excuses the two of you from the table, before standing up and walking to the middle of the dance area.

»All this talk about money and expensive models gets on my nerves… they don‘t even bother talking about the topic of today‘s event.« He murmurs lowly as he smoothly glides you along with him, one hand holding yours, the other propped up against the curve of your waist.

You chuckle softly in return, studying his tired features, »I know... they actually make me feel like an intelligent person for once.«

Bruce expression softens finally, keeping his eyes glued to you.

»You are intelligent… even if it‘s not hard to be smarter than them.« He can‘t help but tease lightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. You pinch his shoulder in return, crinkling his perfect suit slightly.

Your peaceful dance under the classical music from the romantic era gets interrupted as a rather old man approaches the both of you, wearing a rich smile on his face. Bruce‘s expression falls immediately, reluctantly stopping the dance, even though he selfishly wants to keep going and ignore everyone else. But that would be childish, too.

»I sincerely apologise for interrupting your wonderful dance, but I was wondering...«

Your husband restrains himself from letting out the most annoyed sigh ever, keeping himself composed in front of the unfamiliar man. Maybe another economics man, ready to ramble his ears off about nothing other than his spendings on money and begging for Bruce‘s opinion about his decisions.

You watch them interact with a faint smile, knowing very well about your husband‘s annoyance, noticing his jaw clench every now and then. Luckily, the older men steps away, leaving you alone.

»He could‘ve just… nevermind.« Bruce sighs out, not bothering to curse him out, considering you are both still at a public event. He shakes his head lightly and focuses his gaze back on you, expression growing less guarded. »Ready to leave? It‘s getting late.«

You can‘t deny his offer, getting sick of the sticky air inside the ballroom as well. Bruce feels more than reliefed once you step out of the large, barouque building, approaching the car, where Alfred‘s already sitting inside, waiting to drive you both home.

◖

Once inside, Bruce gets rid of his tie and hangs up his suit jacket, before he finally turns his full attention to you. You just got rid of your high heels and can‘t wait to slip into bed to give your feet a break, but once you glance at Bruce, you‘re sure this won‘t be happening anytime soon.

»I don‘t know ‘bout you, but this evening made me really worked up...«

He slurs out quietly while taking some steps closer to you, secretly hoping you feel the same way. He doesn‘t need to hope though, because you‘d be happy to provide him in anything. You nod in response, letting him come closer and almost close the gap between you both.

»Oh, definitely… but I kinda enjoyed seeing you frustrated for once.« You smirk up at him, a mischivous glint in your eyes. It makes him shakes his head lightly in return, although the corners of his lips curl up slightly.

»Cheeky,« he exhales softly before pulling you closer by your hip, gently connecting your lips into a sweet kiss. Your hand props up at his chest, curling around the cool fabric while Bruce deepens the kiss. He makes you tilt your head, his larger hand resting by the nape of your neck.

It takes a lot in him not to finish what he started in the hallway, but he eventually breaks the kiss and takes steadying breaths, his eyes trained on you like a prey.

Your back hits the door as soon as you reach your master bedroom, making you huff out softly. Bruce doesn‘t waste his time to attack your neck with open-mouthed kisses and light bites, working his way down to the column of your throat, and down to your collarbones. A quiet hiss escapes you as you feel his bites become harsher, probably enough to create faint marks the next day. Your hands desperately clinge to his shoulders, one at the back of his neck, keeping him close while keeping you steady on your feet. A soft growl escapes him, seeming impatient. His hands finally stop roaming over you curves, picking you up by the back of your thighs. He sets you up against the next furniture, his moves being rushed and needy. Due to his rushed demeanor, he placed you down on the surface of the dresser messily, making you shift to be more comfortable on it.

»Sorry, I… I didn‘t hurt you, right?« He catches his breath as he takes you in on top of the dresser, noticing your flushed demeanor.

»I‘m all good, just didn‘t expect this,« you answer, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. Bruce grows smug at your action, letting himself be pulled close again. His breath fans against you before he nuzzles to your neck. You feel a gentle tap at your thigh, his voice coming out low and commanding.

»C‘mon… spread,«

A light shiver goes through your spine, listening to his words without a single thought in your head. He settles in once your legs allow him to, pushing your evening dress a little more up.

You feel his cool hands trace your body until one of them travels down to your middle, gently rubbing and starting to work you up further. A breathy sigh leaves your lips before Bruce crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing all of your sounds. You weakly grip to his upper arm, supporting yourself as best as you can. His hand quickens its pace against your core through your lacy panties, making your brain melt. Your lips part further as your mind goes slack, allowing him to deepen the kiss and rub slow circles against your tongue with his.

A quiet whine leaves you as he suddenly stops, breaking the kiss too.

»Sorry, darl‘… patience.« He mumbles softly as he starts to undo his belt, keeping his hazy eyes trained on your face. You grow hotter under his eyes, trying to rub your thighs together again, but it‘s impossible with him between your legs. A faint smirk tugs at his lips, dragging his teeth against his bottom lip once his pants finally fall down.

Your eyes fall to his boxers, noticing the light patch on the front. Without further hesitation, Bruce‘s boxer briefs get pulled down, mixed with a quiet groan from his side.

He leans in again, his hot skin pressing against yours, feeling like you‘ll melt any second. You feel the way his lips trace along the side of your neck while he gently teases you, feeling his tip nudge against the outside of your panties. Your hand shoots out to hold onto him again, settling against his shirt as you grip tightly on him.

Having had finally enough of it, he pushes your panties to the side and dives in, being as gentle as he can, even in his desperate state. You tense up at the sensation, not used to his size, due to the busy lives of you both.

»Shh… it‘s okay. I‘ve got you,« Bruce gently shushes you and wrap his arms around your torso, keeping you close against him as he continues to gently drive in further.

You slowly relax again and regain your breath, keeping a tigh grip against his shirt. Once he bottoms out, you can‘t help but tremble slightly, being overwhelmed with the hotness and full feeling he provides. You nod against his shoulder, giving him the final sign for him to start out properly.

His rhythm starts out slow and sensual, but it quickly evolves into a quicker and rougher pace. He drives more urgently into you, trying to be gentle at the same time. The strokes are deep, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He adjusts his grip on you, changing the angle lightly as he continues to shove his hips against yours, not giving you a break.

The room fills with soft flaps from skin slapping against skin, your breathy moans mix with his deep groans, making the scene more erotic than it already is. The sensations finally start to kick in, making your breath hitch. He notices the slight shift in you, knowing it won‘t take long for you to come undone before him.

He leans back a bit to watch your face, his hands keeping a firm grip on your hips as he pushes himself into you even harder than before. Your eyes roll back, moans growing higher in pitch. He relieshes in the way you melt because of him, the way you look like you are losing your mind, all because of him.

He groans and a possesive feeling overcomes him, making his hips snap rougher against yours. Sure enough, your climax comes in after a few final thrusts, his jaw going slack as he feels how tightly you squeeze him.

His pace doesn‘t die down, if anything, he‘s trying to speed up a little further. It‘s not until he feels himself grow closer to the edge until he pulls out and continues to drive himself to pleasure with his fist. You hear him moan out softly and nestle his head against your shoulder once he finishes, white spurts of his cum painting your panties white. You run your hand along his back in a soothing motion, helping him calm down too. He comes down faster than you, meeting his eyes again after catching his breath.

»Let‘s clean ya‘ up… did so well for me.« He mutters as he rubs your upper thighs, eventually picking you back up into his arms and walking to the attached bathroom.

←MASTERLIST

#dc comics #x reader #batfam #drabble #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #dc #dcu #fem reader #smut drabble #fanfiction writer #im not used to write smut please be kind #i couldn't bring over my heart to make him rough so this is the best you'll get #writers on tumblr

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rosiecosy · 3 days ago

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the joker

(seventeen x reader)

thank you to the anon who requested this! i hope you enjoy!

"welcome back to another episode of going seventeen!"

the staff's voice boomed through the speakers as the members sat in their seats, waiting for today's game to be announced.

"i swear if it's carnival again, i'm leaving," jeonghan muttered, slumping in his seat.

everyone not-so-quietly agreed. but before the complaints could continue, the staff revealed the game.

mafia.

with a secret role.

silence.

"what kind of secret role?" jeonghan asked, already thinking of ways to cheat.

the staff handed out the role cards—one mafia, one doctor, one detective, the civilians, and one joker.

"what does the joker do?" dino asked.

the staff grinned. "the joker wins alone. they don’t care if the mafia or civilians win—as long as they survive."

the members turned to look at each other.

"oh," woozi said. "so you want us to die."

round one

they started discussing immediately.

"i think it’s hoshi," vernon said.

"what?!"

"you’re being too loud."

"i’m always loud!"

"exactly," vernon deadpanned.

hoshi sulked. "you guys suck."

meanwhile, she stayed silent. she wasn’t mafia. she wasn’t a civilian.

she was the joker.

which meant she had one goal—survive.

and what better way to survive than to act completely, painfully average?

so she did what any normal civilian would do—she accused mingyu.

"mingyu looks suspicious."

mingyu’s jaw dropped. "i literally just breathed."

"exactly," seungcheol said, nodding. "too calm."

mingyu groaned. "i hate this game."

and just like that, he got eliminated.

round two

the next morning, the game resumed. when they opened their eyes, they saw joshua sitting quietly with his arms crossed.

"wait…" dino furrowed his brows. "are you—"

joshua sighed. "yeah, i’m dead."

seungkwan gasped. "who killed joshua?!"

woozi rolled his eyes. "obviously, the mafia."

"wow, they really went for an easy target," jeonghan muttered, sipping his tea.

joshua turned to glare at him. "excuse me?"

she sat back, watching. she didn’t care who won—as long as she wasn’t eliminated.

so she did something risky.

"guys… what if there’s no mafia?" she said suddenly.

the room fell silent.

seungkwan gasped. "what are you saying?!"

"i mean, what if it’s all a trick? what if the staff just told us there was a mafia but secretly… there isn’t one?"

chaos. immediate chaos.

dino: "huh?!"

woozi: "shut up."

seungcheol: "oh my god."

jeonghan: "wait… that’s actually genius."

and just like that, they forgot about her.

round three

it was down to four people—her, seungcheol, jeonghan, and seungkwan.

one mafia. one civilian. one detective.

and her—the joker.

she needed one more person to go before the final round.

so she turned to jeonghan and whispered,

"it’s seungcheol."

jeonghan’s eyes narrowed.

he turned to seungkwan. "it’s seungcheol."

seungcheol: "what?!"

"he’s been too quiet."

"that’s just my personality?!"

seungkwan nodded. "true. he’s always the fake leader in mafia."

seungcheol got eliminated.

she smiled.

one step closer to victory.

final round

three left.

jeonghan. seungkwan. her.

one mafia. one civilian. one joker.

seungkwan squinted. "wait… who’s lying?"

jeonghan pointed at her. "it’s her."

she gasped. "you’re really gonna betray me like this?"

"you literally started this whole thing!"

seungkwan turned to her. "are you mafia?"

she gave him the most innocent look ever. "do i look like a liar?"

"…yes."

"…fair."

jeonghan sighed. "look. let’s be logical."

"oh my god," woozi mumbled from the ghost section.

jeonghan continued. "if i was mafia, would i have gotten rid of seungcheol?"

"yes," she said.

jeonghan blinked. "wait—"

too late.

seungkwan eliminated him.

the staff clapped. "congratulations! the civilians win—"

"actually."

the staff paused.

she grinned.

"i was the joker."

seungkwan froze. "wait… does that mean…"

"she won," woozi groaned.

jeonghan looked personally offended. "you backstabbed me."

she shrugged. "that’s the game."

seungkwan fell to the floor. "i can’t believe this."

the members screamed. mingyu threw a pillow at her. jeonghan stormed off.

but all she did was sit back, smile, and say,

"well… see you next episode."

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 days ago

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Hi, I hope this is an okay question to ask. I am s l o w l y exploring and learning what kinds of kinks I like. I’m drawn to taboo kinks and I’m really curious about ageplay, but I’m worried that if I open the door to letting that be hot, I’m going to start seeing actual kids as hot. Obviously that doesn’t mean I would do anything about it, but I’m still not sure I want that in my head. Is there any truth in this fear? Could that happen?

well much in the same way that the majority of pup players aren't trying to hump real labradors on the street, D&D players generally aren't running around pulling swords on random shopkeepers, and my years doing Warriors Cats rp online never made me want to live in the woods pissing in the dirt and eating mice, I suspect that what you're attracted to is the safety of fantasy and play rather than the actual, literal thing. pretty big line between those two things, actually, and most people are pretty clear on the difference between stuff that's made up and harmless and stuff that's really really bad. I use this example often, but I assure you that my abiding love of Batman using his billions of dollars to dick around doing lawless bullshit has not softened my feelings on Elon Musk in the slightest.

I assume that, like most well-adjusted adults, you aren't attracted to children. what you're into is, presumably, adults acting in ways that are characterized as immature, carefree, cutesy, helpless, bratty, etc, and the dynamic of those playacting adults might have with others who take the role of their caregivers. that is... so, so, so far removed from being attracted to an actual human child. I don't know if you've ever actually, like, hung out with kids, but they're pretty different than adults. I mean obviously they're little humans who have their own opinions and ideas and personalities and have a right to autonomy and making their own decisions as much as is safely possible, but they are REALLY different from age appropriate, sexually compatible adults. someone doing ageplay is, like, a million miles from an actual kid.

it's kind of like how when Riverdale was on I'd see gifs of that insane redheaded lesbian and go "yeah, she's hot." like, sure, the character's a teenager, but that actress is an adult woman who's only two years younger than me and we all know that. the idea of fucking an actual teenager is vile. even if I were to see someone and have an initial aesthetic appreciation, the second they open their mouth and start saying 17 year old things the attraction is gone because I've realized that's a child.

(no offense to the teens in the room! you're great and I'm sure your 17 year old stuff is really important to you! but adults should not want to fuck you, is the point.)

so what I'm saying is: seems unlikely!

also, okay. let's assume the absolute worst case scenario happens and you experience a twinge of sexual interest towards a child. that's understandably alarming; that's not an urge most people want to harbor within themselves. that may require some dialing back from ageplay, or a chat with a kink-friendly mental health professional, or seeking out some community and advice from others in your kink scene who may have struggled with something similar. but please, give yourself some credit: you have some shred of impulse control within your body, yes? you're not going to make the leap from having a thought to being an active child predator in one fell swoop. the choice to harm a child, or to seek out pornographic material of child sexual abuse, are still choices that you would have to actually make. and it's making those choices to do harm that actually make child abusers a danger, not just having thoughts. having a thought all by itself doesn't hurt anyone; it's the way you act on it that has the potential to cause harm.

but again, I want to emphasize, sexual behavior is by and large a pretty easy wire not to get crossed with other things. please note the brave billions of people who manage to get through every day without groping their colleagues and random strangers because they understand it's not the appropriate time, place, or partner!

#sex edventures 2025

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moonydoodlez · 2 days ago

Text

Little White Lies

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Reader smells something that's vaguely familiar in the Amortentia but can't quite figure out who it is.

Warnings: Use of y/n twice

Wordcount: 1,149

A/n: Reg, Barty, Evan, and reader are all not friends with snape or mulciber

Hogwarts at spring was always your favorite. The bright sun warming your skin, lovely meadows dotted with flowers. Classes always seemed a little easier, everything just felt lighter.

You longingly stared out the window you were sat next to. Fingers tediously playing the with quill that was in your hands, destined to stain your fingers black. God was it too perfect of a day to waste inside.

A few giggles surrounding you suddenly broke you out of your daze. Your eyes darted around the room when suddenly they fell on Professor Slughorn. His eyebrow cocked up and a playful glare on his face.

"Am i bothering your nap time" He jokes. "Or shall I continue"

"Yeah sorry" You smile nervously, setting your quill back down on the table and adjusting your position to actually pay attention this time.

"Like I was saying Potter and y/l/n" He reads off your names, before just as quickly moving onto the next pair.

Your head whipped to the left to find James and the rest of the marauders already glaring daggers into your head. You weren't one to hate many people, despite what nonsense the green that adorned your body put into peoples head.

James and his co marauders however had become the exception over the years. You had never spent much time with them but you were one of the many who were prime targets for their pranks.

The first two years of school you managed to get away from their mischievousness, and you even thought it was funny. Especially when they went after Snape and Mulciber. Who even you could agree were utter twats.

However when you became friends with Regulus, Barty, and Evan you began getting lumped into the 'bad slytherins' group. Which was weird considering Barty wasn't even in your house.

Time had passed and everyone had expected the boys to get over their childish antics. Yet even in your sixth year they seemed to cause a daily quarrel amongst everyone.

You sighed and look back down at your quill and parchment, wanting to no longer think about the boys who were definitely still staring at you.

"Can anyone tell me what this is" Professor Slughorn asks, pointing at the large cauldron with a bubbling pink liquid.

A Ravenclaw who sat next to you quickly shot her hand up answering.

"Good, yes it's amortentia" He smiles proudly. "Does anyone know what it does, and or the side effects of it" His eyes trail around the classroom before finally landing in you. "Y/n"

"It's a love potion but it causes obsession not love" You answer making sure to keep your answer short and concise.

In the corner of your eyes you could see blonde curls shaking around. Your eyes wandered to Evan smiling putting both thumbs up. You tilted your head at him giving him a confused smile. What a weirdo that one was.

"Correct, it also is extremely powerful" He adds. "Now if everyone would please find their assigned partners we can get started.

You waited until the majority had already found their new spots before stalking to the other side of the room where James was standing looking into the bubbling cauldron.

"Goodluck" Barty smiled pushing his shoulder into yours as he walked by. You were going to need a lot more than luck. A gun maybe.

"Potter" You snarled looking up at the boy.

"I don't want to be around you any less than you don't want to be around me" He looked up and down slowly before his eyes settled on the front of the classroom.

"Alright now I want everyone to smell what's in their cauldrons and discuss what it is you smell" He smiled. "However do no drink it or touch it, or anything that seems stupid" He added.

Nobody missed the pointed looks that found their ways to the marauders from others in the class and Professor Slughorn.

You watched James lean slowly in closing his eyes as he took a whiff of the potion. Slowly pushing his messy curls back in precaution. You hated to admit it but you understood why girls seemed to flock to him.

His lips parted for a moment before his eyes opened again.

"What are you smiling at" He huffed staring at you.

You quickly straightened up, your slight smile dropping as quickly as it had formed.

"Move let me smell" You grunted slightly pushing him out of the way. Closing your eyes you inhaled the scent.

Broom polish, tangerines, and a faint smell of what you think is coconut oil.

You pulled away, a slight frown on your face, the smell felt so familiar like it was something you had smelled a million times. It felt like you should've been able to guess it instantly. Yet you couldn't

"What did you smell" James asks. Moving his hands to the table and leaning a little closer to you.

For a moment you're confused because he almost actually seems interested in what you have to say. God were you tempted to tell him but who were you if not petty.

"Tell me yours first" You challenge.

James began saying the first thing he smelled before Sirius laughed loudly and there was a large noise from behind and suddenly James was no longer by your side.

You rolled your eyes giving one last smell. Letting the flavors mix and you felt so close to figuring out who it was.

When suddenly like a bird hitting a window, it hit you.

Shit.

...

"He is so infuriating i don't know how i am going to be able to stand him for the rest of another year" You groan throwing yourself onto Barty's bed.

"You could always murder him" He suggests, not a single ounce of sarcasm in tone or face.

"Yes Bartimaeus that is a wonderful idea, thankyou for your input" You sarcastically smile at the boy before it instantly falls.

"It's okay babe you tried to help" Evan smiles sympathetically at Barty who is wiping fake tears from his eyes. "We can murder someone another time" He coos, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

You rolled your eyes, covered your face with a blanket to block out the light. You heard footsteps before there was a dip at the end of the bed. The smell of expensive cologne filled your sense as you closed your eyes.

"You know it could be worse, you could've been paired up with my brother" Regulus added.

"Well I guess that's true" You replied.

"So what exactly did you smell" Evan asked before rolling over on top of Barty and stuffing his head into the boys sweatshirt.

"Oh um i don't really remember" You giggled nervously.

They all looked at you, a weird look on their faces. One that clearly read that none of them believed you.

"Hmm must've been Snape" Barty laughed.

taglist: @chososrightpigtail

Masterlist James Potter Masterlist

#bbgwrites #ive had this written for so long and never ever posted it #marauders #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter oneshot #marauders oneshot #marauders era oneshsot #james potter x reader fic #james potter fic

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drdemonprince · 1 day ago

Note

what do u think about romance abolition? i recently discovered that i dont think romance actually exists as in i think every relationship every person has with anyone is unique and different. the concept of romance is rooted in a lof of our opressive systems and aphobia is inherently tied to it. i think these labels of being in a "romantic" relationship endanger everyone due to a percieved wrong clearness of what their relationship boundaries and expectations are and it also devalues "platonic" (and a lot other) relationships.

i also recommend the aromantic manifesto blog on here to kind of get part of the concept im talking abt

this comes from the mind of an audhd aroace trans person, if thats of any relevance!

thank u for ur blog an your opinions ⭐

I am fairly receptive to the idea that romance as we currently conceive of it is a recent cultural invention that is pretty ahistorical, and that is used to further the isolation of individuals from community. but also, I don't think we are going to get anywhere as a social or political movement in denying the feelings that a majority of people have, myself very much among them.

Even if it is all born of cultural conditioning, the cat is kind of out of the bag, and a great deal of us experience a romantic drive, romantic longings, close attachments that are romantic that we experience as distinct from non-romantic attachments, and view romance as a meaningful fount of inspiration in our art, sexualities, and even spiritualities.

I am all for a move away from amatonormativity and the primacy of the monogamous, legally committed relationship, but I do think there is something emotionally real going on there for those of us who experience it. I used to care a lot more about straightforward rationality, and after that about justice, but now I care a great deal about the emotionally felt reality of things, and the realms of life that are not easily categorized or known. I can't explain why the idea of romance is important to me, only that it is, and I personally have no desire in doing away with it.

perhaps I feel some of the resistance to the idea of romance abolition that some instantly feel when they first hear of family abolition-- The idea makes them uncomfortable because of what it sounds like, which is a threat to something that they are very bonded to.

I think on an institutional level it would be very beneficial to not tie social benefits or legal status to a person's romantic relationships. but in terms of my personal life? I draw very firm boundaries between relationships that are romantic in nature and those that are not, that is a distinction that is very important to me and I often feel really trampled upon by people who believe that no one should see a designation between those things. in most of the world writ large that's a very small problem, but I mostly run with polyamorous queer people who tend to see many of their relationships is a big mishmash of affection and commitment and friendship and that can get real fucking messy real fast in addition to being beautiful or revolutionary or what have you.

I think ultimately I'm a little bit more interested in providing the social supports and physical infrastructure that would make it more possible for individuals to form community in whatever ways that means for them. I think a lot of beneficial social changes and liberation would flow from that, rather than moving to abolish romantic relationships first.

and I really do get uncomfortable when a certain subcategory of relationally radical polyamorous queer people try to push against other people's romantic or sexual boundaries in the name of liberation; I understand if that sounds like a totally ridiculous complaint to you, the way a person complaining about veganism being forced on them almost always sounds like a overreacting cry baby, but I've been in enough toxic fucking communities since I was an 18-year-old to feel like I'm owed this grievance, and kind of want to give voice to it because I have seen people be abused in the name of otherwise really understandable ideals like these.

I think it is okay for a person to draw distinctions between their types of relationships, and to want certain forms of attachment with only certain people... there has to be a way to square this with a desire for greater community ties and interreliance. I need there to be, or it would not be a ideology I could really find myself safely within to be honest.

All that uncomfortable hand ringing aside, as a member of the asexual community and a person who does not form connections in a typical way, I have so much respect and care for my aromantic comrades and I do recognize how supremely excluded from basically every social practice and institution in the world you are, and how difficult it is for anyone to make family or build community for themselves in a world that prioritizes exclusive romantic relationships over everything. and I do really believe that fighting against that is a worthy and necessary project. I am perhaps just ultimately a bit less enlightened in terms of what I personally need and aspire to.

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43501 · 2 days ago

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Opened my copy of Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases for the first time in a decade and man, I forgot this is a goldmine of info and Mello characterization. It lets us know what kind of person Mello is almost more than the source material. Every time he's on panel/screen he's always so intense, it's fascinating to see him write and kind of get this feeling of "oh, he is also a normal guy outside of those situations".

He says he had one extensive in-person meeting with L, which is backed up by this other post of mine where I point out that, in the anime at least, Mello references having spoken to L personally. If we take it as canon it means L and Mello met at some point between Kira emerging and L leaving England for Japan.

He expresses a strong sense he might die. I've seen people say that he's "narrating from beyond (heh) the grave" and it's nonsensical, but that's not what's happening here. He's just writing while anticipating his death and writing as if these notes may be discovered posthumously.

He thinks that, in the event he dies, Near is the one who will discover his writings. This is interesting to me because it suggests Mello either knows Near knows his whereabouts, or would figure it out and recover his belongings. I actually think this is outright supported by canon - we see Near eating Mello's chocolate in the manga's epilogue. I don't think he instructed his staff to go out and buy that same chocolate, I think that's straight up Mello's stash.

At some point he started identifying less with the "Mello" alias and calling himself Mihael.

He's so sentimental... ending the prologue simply with "Good memories and nightmares". Bro.

"Imagine you were going to kill someone. What do you think would be the most difficult part? .... The correct answer: killing someone." Damn, I love you Mello lol. Also fascinating when you remember that he achieved his status in the mafia by beheading someone. Yes, he would know how hard it is to kill a person.

Mello states that he and Near belong to the "fourth generation" of Wammy's House kids.

He expresses open sympathy for Beyond and his state, twice... based on his own narration and how he portrays B in the course of the story, he definitely relates to B's emotions.

"Perhaps these gods actually wanted a blood soaked world of betrayal and false accusation. Perhaps the entire episode exists as a lesson to teach us the difference between the Almighty and the shinigami." I can't entirely make sense of this, and I don't want to get ahead of myself, but is "Almighty" capitalized here to definitely refer to the divine? Like, the Christian God but in a bit of a sidestepped, roundabout way? Wish I could see the original Japanese text for this line. If anyone has essays/posts about it, please show me.

And on a meta-textual level, the ambiguity of our role/perspective as the reader of these notes is also interesting. We're probably just an omniscient, unmoored observer being told about this set of notes Mello wrote and his line to the effect of "if it happens to turn into [a book]" is tongue-in-cheek. I know there's a slight, hanging implication that Near did in fact publish his notes, but I think that's unlikely since they contain so much sensitive/classified information.

#death note #mello #mihael keehl #i tried to write in his voice/style ten years ago and that fic is still up but that fic is a failure imo #i could probably do it better now but i don't have a specific story idea worth pursuing #we need more books written by mello's hand since he said he had more stories he wanted to write #get on it O&O hire a writer to make another one go go go chop chop #meta

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atlas-of-andromeda · 1 day ago

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Alright, I'm doin this

1. What are 4 tabs that you have open on your browser right now?

The Magnus Archive playlist on Youtube, The Spirit Bares It's Teeth by Andrew Joseph White, a Youtube video on Angelology, and this fanfiction.

2. Have you ever thought about seriously harming someone?

More times than I'd like to admit.

3. How are you feeling emotionally right now?

Stressed, anxious, scared, just about any emotions related to those.

4. What type of place(Like building) are you in right now?

My house.

5. Does anyone know your deepest, darkest secret?

No.

6. Have you ever tried to feign mental illness for personal gain?

No.

7. Do you have any enemies?

One-sided on my side, yes. Two-way, no.

8. Do you have any people you only pretend to like?

Many.

9. What is one item that you never let anyone besides yourself look at or in?

A stuffed animal I've had since I was a baby.

10. Do you have any talents that people say you have but you don’t believe you actually have?

Chess. No idea why people think I'm all that good at it, when I'm not. (Ironic since I run a chess-themed side-blog.)

11. Something you like that other people generally do not like?

Snakes.

12. Are you a Virgin?

Yes.

13. Is there anyone that your grandma would hate that you are subscribed to on Youtube?

Probably, yeah.

14. Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert.

15. What is the most used application on your device?

Probably Tumblr.

16. How much fan fiction have you actually read?

Too much. I read it most days. Almost everyday

17. Worst Fears?

People.

18. Biggest mistake you’ve ever made?

My life.

19. Worst lie you’ve ever told?

I've told a lot of lies. It's hard to pick one out from the rest.

20. Do you consider yourself a trustworthy person?

No. Anyone trusting me is making a mistake.

“I have nothing to hide” Asks

(For those daring enough to reblog)

1. What are 4 tabs that you have open on your browser right now?

2. Have you ever thought about seriously harming someone?

3. How are you feeling emotionally right now?

4. What type of place(Like building) are you in right now?

5. Does anyone know your deepest, darkest secret?

6. Have you ever tried to feign mental illness for personal gain?

7. Do you have any enemies?

8. Do you have any people you only pretend to like?

9. What is one item that you never let anyone besides yourself look at or in?

10. Do you have any talents that people say you have but you don’t believe you actually have?

11. Something you like that other people generally do not like?

12. Are you a Virgin?

13. Is there anyone that your grandma would hate that you are subscribed to on youtube?

14. Introvert or extrovert?

15. What is the most used application on your device?

16. How much fan fiction have you actually read?

17. Worst Fears?

18. Biggest mistake you’ve ever made?

19. Worst lie you’ve ever told?

20. Do you consider yourself a trustworthy person?

#reblog #text post #lore drop

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yawping-poets-society · 2 days ago

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we don't talk enough about cameron's first real scene, where he talks to neil outside his dorm before todd arrives. in case anyone doesn't know what i'm referring to, here's the dialogue from the scene:

Cameron: Hey, Neil, study group tonight?

Neil: Yeah, sure.

Cameron: Business as usual, huh? [turns to leave, then] Hey, I heard you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff. [laughs at his own joke] [Todd enters] Oops. [Cameron leaves]

so let's talk about it!!

cameron opens with the study group question. this is pretty straightforward to me-he knows he's none of the poets' favorite, and certainly not charlie's. neil is his foremost supporter, pretty much the only one who sticks up for him, so this makes sense. he's checking with neil, his 'in' to the group, to make sure he can hang with these guys. he wants to be part of their circle so badly, and that's pretty clear from the get-go.

and then he hits us with this whole "stiff" business. this is a major thing i've seen people use to justify their hate of cameron and i really struggle with that.

because, well...this is SO undeniably awkward. neil tells todd just a moment later not to mind cameron because he was "born with his foot in his mouth." so off the bat, that's not something you say about someone who's consistently rude or who you don't like. that's neil sticking up for cameron. he's saying, sorry todd, he means well, or at least, he doesn't have any ill intentions. cameron's just not got the best grasp of social cues, that's how he is. this is a pretty valid explanation in and of itself, but if you'll walk with me a little further, i've got a deeper theory about why cameron makes this comment.

more than just it being awkward, this casual friendliness, haha, new kid, a mild insult said with much bravado...this isn't really cameron as we see him for the rest of the movie. though he does remain relatively awkward, it doesn't really match his character of being cautious and trying to not stand out, to fit into the group (as we see in his first line). so how to explain this action (because i don't believe the explanation is just: cameron is being an asshole/being awkward)?

to me? this is what cameron thought charlie would say. isn't that almost exactly how charlie always talks about cameron, after all? for a great example, see later in the same scene:

Charlie, about Cameron: What's his specialty, bootlicking?

so maybe cameron believes that this is how friends treat each other. or at least, how they talk about other people to entertain their friends. charlie, while not a stellar student and clearly not liked by the administration, is the class clown, which makes him popular with students at welton. thus, cameron is probably jealous of charlie. he probably wishes he was more like charlie-confident, funny, well-liked, etc. and again, he clearly wants to be friends with neil, and part of their larger group, very, very badly. all of this to say:

i don't think cameron meant what he said about todd.

he's trying to get a laugh out of neil. so what does he do? he does what he thinks charlie-neil's funny best friend-would do. it's not a nice thing to say, but to me, it really just reads as someone who is trying to guess what the appropriate, funny thing to say in a situation is, but doesn't actually know. cameron might not have even really thought the 'stiff' joke was funny. but he thought neil would find it funny, which is really the whole point. cameron is, at the most fundamental level, an unpopular kid who wishes he was well-liked, and is fumbling around blindly trying to find his way there.

#hey guys...it's me again...back with more thoughts about richard cameron...haha...#been sitting on this one for a while #i lowkey think all of this is a mask for charlie too but that's a seperate essay #share your thoughts please #everyone is entitled to their own opinions this is just my take #m yawps #dead poets society #richard cameron

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 8 hours ago

Text

P*rn ☆ Epilogue

Masterlist Word count: 2.3 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: That's it guys. Thank you so much for reading and all the sweet comments. I've had a blast writing this story<3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

'So tell me, Rafayel, did you actually set them up,' Zayne asks with a smile as he looks at the happy couple. Rafayel frowns at him.

'No. Why would I want them to move in together? That's less rent money,' he says in an annoyed, whiny voice. But then he sighs and rolls his eyes, making his annoyed façade a lot less believable. 'I guess they look good together though.'

'That they do,' Zayne agrees, smiling as he looks at the happy couple entering the ballroom together.

Today, he had had the great honor of being your best man with Tara by his side as your bridesmaid. He doesn't think he's ever been prouder than he was seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress with your hair and makeup all done up and the biggest smile on your face.

It became even more beautiful when he heard the softest sob coming from the man standing there waiting for you. Tears of joy freely flowed down his cheeks as he wore a smile as big as yours.

He's glad you've found your forever person and couldn't be happier for you. He gets to watch you grow happier and happier each and every day, gets to see you with a partner that allows you to be yourself fully and give yourself fully without taking too much. By now, he loves Sylus like a brother and can't imagine his life without him.

As he watches Sylus and you sway over the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife, it brings a tear to his eyes. When the song ends, you approach him with outstretched hands. He takes a quick peek behind you at Sylus to check if it's okay. Sylus nods with a calm smile as Zayne takes your hand. Together, you sway across the dance floor with Sylus gentle eyes on the both of you, smiling contently.

'Zayne, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, for us, but still... Thank you.'

'I'd do it again a million times to see you happy.' You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks over at Sylus, who is still happily looking at the two of you. It is truly a gift that you two managed to end up together like this. The happiness that has been granted to you is a gift from the gods, truly. He can only hope he'll find something like this for himself.

'Remind me to introduce you to one of my colleagues,' you say with a cheeky grin, 'I think you'll like her.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

'Wait, stop,' you giggle, pushing Sylus off you. The man has been leeching on your neck ever since people started leaving. He pouts at you but lets you do what has to be done. Which is unlocking the door to your shared apartment. When you push the door open, he picks you up and you squeal. 'What are you doing?'

'Carrying my bride over the threshold,' he states proudly as he walks into the apartment. He closes the door with a kick and carries you straight to the bedroom where he gently puts your back on your feet. 'Would you grant me the honor of taking off your dress?'

'If you promise me we'll take a shower after.' His pout reappears. The man was banking on something else happening, but you have been in a heavy dress all day and you truly want to wash the day away. It was beautiful and a memory that you'll never forget, but you can almost feel your skin itch under your makeup. 'Please?'

'Anything my wife wants, my wife gets,' he agrees and walks around you to busy himself with the beautiful pearl buttons on the back of your dress. 'You were enchanting today. Truly in my top five of your most beautiful moments.'

'Top five? Is it even number one?'

'No, number one will always be when I woke up with you after we finally had the talk. But it's a good number two.' You giggle as you feel his hands gently work your buttons. Each inch of freed skin is kissed lovingly.

'What are the others?'

'Five is when I saw you for the very first time. I was having a terrible time setting up my apartment and you came over with that bottle of whiskey.' You let out a chuckle.

'You were so rude to me.'

'I was, but you were beautiful. Even if you did look annoyed,' he adds and continues his list, 'number four is the first time you let me eat you out.' Another chuckle leaves your lips, but then you feel his hands on your hips as he kneels down onto the floor.

'And number three will be waking up with you tomorrow. The first time waking up with you as my wife,' his voice sounds a little wobbly. When you look over your shoulder, you can tell he has tears in his eyes. With the last button undone, you turn and kneel on the floor with him, taking his face in your hands. He instantly leans into your touch, eyes closing to focus on the warmth you spread through his body. 'I could've never imagined we would've made it this far if it hadn't been for your stubbornness.'

It almost sounds like a joke, but he means it wholeheartedly. 'And I would do it again and again, a million times if I have to, if that means I get you as my husband,' you tell him, not a trace of uncertainty in your words. His eyes open again and he looks at you, taking in your figure. The dress draping off your shoulders, your makeup so perfectly done, the honestly in your face.

'I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but it must've been pretty damn good,' he tries to joke, but a tear slips out. Your thumb wipes it away and you lean in to press a kiss on his lips. It's searing hot, a burning promise to stand beside him whatever may come next.

As lips part, he seems much better. You smile and get up from your knees, offering him your hand. 'Now, I think it's about time we consummate this marriage.' He takes your hand and gets up, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

'Sweetie, I know you're tired. Let's just take a shower.'

'Fine,' you pretend to be annoyed, but he sees right through it. 'I'm waking you up with a blowie though.'

'If I ever say no to that, shoot me.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Despite both being drained from the wedding, you talked for hours. About the past, the present, the future. Little things you hadn't admitted to each other, like Sylus secret love of Fleetwood Mac and your extreme love for- and fascination with sunsets. By the time you both fell asleep, it must've been three or four am. So you aren't really surprised that you wake up with the late morning sun bathing the whole room in a warm orange.

However, you could've slept for much longer had it not been for a certain someone sucking hickeys on your thighs. With a sluggish movement, you pick up the covers and see Sylus between your legs. Each of his arms wrapped around a thigh, your underwear nowhere to be seen, and a cheeky grin on his lips when he meets your eyes.

'I thought I said I was going to give you a blowjob.'

'Well, the day is still young,' he rasps, his voice still full of sleep, 'and I intent to show my wife how much I love her first.' My wife. The words make his stomach tingle the same as they do for you.

'Okay, but push the covers off. I want to see my husband.'

'Yes ma’am.' He throws off the covers in one swift motion and plunges right into his breakfast. Right away, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking a thick stripe. Your back arches as you whimper his name. After that, there's no stopping him.

He plunges two fingers into you and eats like a man starved, like he needs your pussy to stay alive. His fingers pump and curl deliciously inside of you while your body moves uncontrollably, only staying in place because of Sylus’ tight grip on your thighs. The room is filled with moans and whimpers of Sylus’ name. He revels in it.

Before you know it, your orgasm washes over you. As you try to steady your breathing, Sylus moves from his spot which is slightly uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he tries to get you on the edge of a second orgasm first.

'My beautiful wife, would you grant me the honor of fulfilling a fantasy of mine,' he asks between kisses as he makes his way slowly to your mouth, placing a loving kiss right on your lips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you.

'And what would that be, husband?'

'Remember that video in my bathroom of me jerking off?' You nod. 'That was the evening after the party. I heard you masturbating and I started imagining being with you. Holding you. I'd like to fuck you how I imaged I would.'

'Is this something we need a traffic light system for?' He shakes his head.

'No, none of that. I just want you to stay laying here, just like this and,' he gently lifts your legs until your feet are planted on his mattress, thighs far enough apart to allow space for him. He takes your hands and move them into the hair on the back of his neck. He spreads his legs, sitting on his heels as he gently lines his length up to your pussy. 'Is this alright for you?'

A smile spreads across your face. This is nothing special. It almost makes you blush that he would imagine such a normal scene and get off so hard on it. You nod and pull on his hair. 'Fuck me, Sylus.'

He slips in gently and leans closer to press his lips on yours, setting a gentle pace as he kisses you deeply. But you quickly get enough of the slow pace and pull his hair again to separate his lips from yours. 'Quicker, please,' you beg, looking desperate and longing for release. With a smile, he starts driving his length into you at a quicker pace. An orchestra of the little sounds you make fills the room once more. It's so much more beautiful than he imagined back then, so much more beautiful. Your eyes are focused on him and only him.

'You're absolutely stunning, sweety,' he tells you as he leans closer, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders. Your hands slip out of his hair and onto his back, your nails leaving works of art on his back in despair. One of his hands leaves your body, moving between the two of you to rub your bundle of nerves, helping you closer to a state of ecstasy.

'Sylus, you feel so good,' you manage to moan out, clawing your way as close to him as you possibly can. In response, he pulls you up into his lap and holds you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you.

Your moans become louder and you are so grateful the bedroom doesn't border on another apartment as you hear the bed creak pitifully. In a terrible attempt to silence yourself as you rapidly get closer to the edge, you bite down on his collarbone. He groans out your name in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling tips him over the edge.

His hands grab your hips so hard you're sure it'll bruise, severing you the same mixture of pain and pleasure to help you tip over the edge and fall into the abyss with him. Your teeth let go of his skin as you whole body shakes in pleasure. Sylus holds you close, his arms wrapping around your body like a safety net whilst his hips jerk up to help you ride through your orgasm.

When he feels your shaking subside, he gently lays you down on the bed and slips out of you. A pathetic whine slips from your lips as your face contorts in disagreement, but all he can see is his beautiful wife. His absolutely perfect wife who is so willing to give herself to him.

He lays down and snuggles up to you, arms wrapping around your body like they're meant to be there. 'You did perfect.'

'Sylus?' He hums in response, eyes already closed again, ready for a nap. 'Can I say that I am absolutely flattered that this is what you thought of doing with me the first time you met me?'

'You can, but do remember that I first fell for you because you were being a brat,' he retorts. There's a chuckle in the back of your throat, but you force it down and huff instead, pretending you're that bratty again. A rumbling laugh goes through his chest. 'I'm joking.'

'You're really not.'

'No, I'm not. I still love you though.' The biggest grin spreads on your face, basking in the bliss that this beautiful man loves you. It's something that you didn't see coming, but when you first saw him it hit you like a semitruck. You truly couldn't be happier than you are when you're with him and you hope you'll ever find the words to truly express that to him.

'I love you too.'

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Previous - Fin. - Back to the start

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cece693 · 1 day ago

Note

PLEASE MORE ASGARDIAN M!READER!!!

May I suggest a fic where the reader wants to bond closely to Wanda and Natasha but, is afraid because their only concept of sister relationships was Hela (reader is a little scared of Hela 😔 due to her destructive nature). Can I also add that the reader has slightly long hair (shoulder length) to braid!

Thank you for your talent and dedication!

He's Cute (Pt. 1.5)

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: wanda and natasha are the best, sibling duo, getting ready for the date, hints of WandaNat/ScarletWidow, bucky being adorably smitten, yes 1.5 cause pt. 2 is the actual date :)

You fiddled nervously with the ends of your hair, pacing the length of your borrowed bedroom in the Avengers Compound for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was the day: your very first official Earth date. With none other than Bucky Barnes. Just the thought of it sent a rush of excitement (and panic) through your veins.

The problem? You had no clue how to prepare for a Midgardian date. A tunic and breeches might scream ‘medieval faire,’ and your more formal Asgardian garb would be even more intimidating. What if Bucky took one look at you and decided you were too over-the-top or—in the worst scenario—ran for the hills? Then there was your hair. Should you leave it loose? Tie it back? Attempt some elaborate braid?

What if I make a total fool of myself? you thought, tugging on your hair with a frustrated groan. You considered consulting Thor—briefly—until your imagination conjured an image of him bellowing, “Wear your finest Asgardian leathers!” and slapping you on the back so hard you’d stumble. Not exactly helpful.

You also thought about Tony or Steve, but quickly dismissed those options. Tony might tease you relentlessly, and while Steve was sweet, he was probably as clueless as you when it came to modern dating intricacies.

That left two people you admired from a (sometimes intimidated) distance: Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. You’d seen how confident and stylish they both were—able to slip into a gown or tactical gear with equal flair. If anyone can help me blend Asgardian flair with Midgard style, you reasoned, it’s them.

Trouble was, the concept of “sisterly” assistance made your stomach twist. Your only sisterly figure had been Hela—and she was the embodiment of destructive chaos. Whenever you thought of “sisterly bonds,” images of shadowy blades and a mocking sneer intruded on your mind. Still, you had no one else to turn to, and time was running out.

It didn’t take long to find them. Wanda lounged on a couch, sipping tea and reading a worn paperback. Natasha reclined in an armchair nearby, scrolling through her phone. They exuded a relaxed warmth that made your nerves surge all over again—how did you even start this conversation?

Wanda glanced up first, her warm eyes creasing in a small smile. “Oh! (Y/N), did you need something?”

Natasha flicked her gaze over to you, phone still in hand. “You look like you’re either about to faint or confess a murder. Everything okay?”

Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I—I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you’re both probably busy, but I…I have a date. With Bucky,” you added softly, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission. “And I have no idea what to wear or how to do my hair, or—anything, really.”

Wanda’s eyebrows rose, and a slow grin spread across her face. “A date with Bucky? That’s adorable.”

Natasha set aside her phone, crossing her arms. “So you want a bit of a makeover?”

You cleared your throat, nerves clashing with relief. “Yes. Please. I don’t know how Earth dates usually go. I’m used to, well…armor and father-gifts, and illusions if I want to ‘dress up.’ But that’s not exactly the vibe here.”

Both women chuckled at that. Natasha stood and motioned for Wanda to follow. “Come on, let’s get you set up. And don’t worry—you’re not bothering us. We’d love to help you not show up to your date in full Asgardian regalia.”

Natasha led you to what appeared to be a converted storage room. Racks of clothing lined the walls, and a couple of tall dressers stood at one end. You caught glimpses of everything from formal evening wear to casual street clothes—no doubt a stockpile from Tony’s various shopping sprees.

“Okay,” Natasha declared, scanning the racks. “We need something comfortable but sharp. You want to catch Bucky’s eye without screaming I’m a prince from another realm.”

Wanda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Though, honestly, you could show up in a paper bag and he’d probably swoon.”

You felt your cheeks flame. “I—um, I just don’t want to look foolish.”

Natasha brushed aside a row of jackets. “We won’t let that happen. Trust us. Let’s see…” She paused, sizing you up. “You’ve got a good build—broad shoulders, trim waist. We should highlight that. Maybe a well-fitted shirt.”

Wanda’s gaze flicked between you and Natasha. “Oooh, yes. And if we can find a color that brings out his eyes…” She rummaged through a section of button-downs.

That left you standing there, feeling slightly awkward, as they pulled items from hangers and debated the merits of each. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety creeping in. This is far less terrifying than dealing with Hela, right? you told yourself. And yet, your heart hammered in your chest.

Eventually, Wanda triumphantly held up a simple, fitted gray button-down. “This might do,” she said, pressing it to your torso. “It’s not flashy, but it’ll look nice with your coloring.”

Natasha grabbed a pair of dark jeans from the next rack. “Try these on. We’ll see if they fit. If they’re too baggy, we’ve got more.”

Clutching the clothes, you ducked behind a folding screen in the corner. The chatter on the other side continued quietly:

“You think Bucky’s actually ready for a date?” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I’m sure he’s ready,” Natasha replied in the same hushed tone. “Steve says he's been looking at the clock constantly and somehow managed to trip over his own feet. He's more than ready."

Their amused banter made you smile—clearly, Bucky was as worked up about this as you were. That was comforting.

You slid into the jeans and button-down, surprised at how well everything fit. They weren’t Asgardian leathers, but the fabric was soft and flexible, hugging you just right. You stepped out self-consciously. “Well? How do I look?”

Wanda gasped softly, covering her mouth. “(Y/N), you look amazing!”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, arms folded. “Yeah, that’ll do. Sleeves up—roll them a bit. Show off those forearms. Trust me.”

Blushing, you obeyed, feeling a little self-conscious and a little flattered. “You really think Bucky will like it?”

“Absolutely,” Wanda replied, beaming. “He’d have to be blind not to notice how good you look.”

Natasha pretended to examine your outfit with a critical eye, but you noticed a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Then her gaze flicked to Wanda, and they shared a subtle look—one that made your cheeks flush a second time. You weren’t sure, but it almost seemed like there was a soft warmth passing between the two women, a private understanding that neither was voicing.

Then came the matter of your hair. It fell around your shoulders, a bit unruly from the stress of pacing your room all day. You lifted a lock, hesitating. “Normally, if this were a formal Asgardian function, I’d wear a crown braid or decorative metal clasps that sparkle with runes. But that’s probably too fancy, right?”

Wanda stepped closer, gently running her fingers through your hair in a way that felt surprisingly soothing. “Yes. Maybe we could do a simple side-braid, just enough to keep it out of your face. Or tuck it behind your ears. You have a nice jawline, so let’s show it.”

Natasha approached with a comb and some small hair ties, exchanging that same subtle smile with Wanda as they both set to work. You couldn’t help but notice the soft brush of Wanda’s hand, the way Natasha’s posture angled toward her whenever they spoke. Something about their easy familiarity and gentleness felt domestic, like they’d done this a hundred times…maybe even for each other.

“Relax,” Natasha murmured, positioning you to face a mirror. “We won’t do anything too elaborate. Just enough to keep Bucky’s eyes on you, not on how complicated your hairstyle is.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “Though he’ll definitely be looking either way.”

They worked in tandem, brushing, smoothing, and expertly twisting a small section of hair into a neat side-braid. With each gentle tug, your tension melted. It felt so normal, to be fussed over by these two formidable Avengers, whose reputations alone could strike fear into entire enemy organizations. Yet here they were, braiding your hair and chatting like older sisters might.

Every so often, you caught a flicker of something more than platonic in their glances—maybe the way Wanda’s hand lingered on Natasha’s wrist when passing a hair clip, or the private smiles they exchanged. It was fleeting, but definitely there. You wondered if you were witnessing the beginnings of something deeper between them—or perhaps it had been there all along, carefully kept behind the scenes.

Finally, Wanda tucked the last strand into place, and Natasha stepped back, admiring their work. “Alright, pretty boy. Check it out.”

You moved to the mirror, heart fluttering in anticipation. The reflection that stared back looked…well, incredible. The blazer fit perfectly, highlighting your form without overpowering your frame. The rolled sleeves revealed just enough forearm to be intriguing, and the subtle side-braid left most of your hair loose but framed your face nicely.

Your mouth fell open. “I—I look…”

“Really, really handsome,” Wanda finished, placing a gentle hand on your back.

Natasha’s smile softened. “You do. And trust me, Bucky will probably forget how to speak for a minute when he sees you.”

A mixture of pride and embarrassment bloomed in your chest. “Thank you. Honestly, I feel so confident. I’ve never had that before.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Of course. You’re about to go on a date, not face a war. It should be fun.”

Natasha’s gaze turned momentarily serious. “But if he does anything to make you uncomfortable—pressures you, upsets you—” She paused, letting the threat linger, “—I will personally have words with him.”

“And by ‘words,’ she means possibly an entire display of violence,” Wanda teased, but her eyes held a protective glint.

You laughed nervously, appreciating the concern. “I—I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Bucky’s so gentle. But...thank you, just the same.”

Natasha nodded firmly. “We look out for our own. And that includes you.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment—so this was what a supportive sisterly bond could be, untainted by destruction and usurpation. After some final adjustments (Natasha insisted on adjusting your collar just so, and Wanda fussed with a stray hair you couldn’t see), the two women gave you a double thumbs-up.

“Go knock him dead—figuratively,” Wanda teased. “This is Earth, after all.” Halfway to the front entrance, you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Wanda and Natasha standing side by side, exchanging soft smiles. Wanda murmured something, and Natasha’s cheeks tinted the faintest pink before she turned away.

Maybe I’m not the only one with a new romance on the horizon, you mused, feeling a rush of fondness for both of them.

When you finally reached the main entrance, there was Bucky—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders tense. The moment his eyes landed on you, all that tension melted. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face, and you swore you saw a slight flush creep up his neck.

“Wow,” he breathed, stepping closer. “You look amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed, but this time it was with genuine confidence. “Thanks. Wanda and Nat helped.”

He nodded, seemingly at a loss for words. “Remind me to, uh…thank them later.”

You chuckled softly. “I’ll let them know.”

The two of you exchanged a few shy glances, the air charged with a thrilling sense of possibility. Bucky offered his arm in that old-fashioned way you found so endearing, and you slipped yours through it, feeling a jolt of warmth as your elbow linked with his. “You ready?” he asked, voice tinged with nervous excitement.

You smiled. “I am.”

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