#the pictured captured pock

[artcalledtattoo]

That’s Republican Distraction Endorsement by losing Prunt Before Isreal distraction And shaking Hands Con cedar tall By hello Halley Make us all stupid Republican Hog wash Dear Iowa how’s the weather Not paying enough attention This is not the U.N. Iowa holds the votes for a country Toppled down what with Tornados The whirlwinds provided by IOWA In our Prseidencies Mother Nature gives a finger! Will you fuck up again Or vote correctly Don’t cry over rain from sky Hot cold pressures Are what you like before an election Enjoy the political weather! Iowa-ians Most sad Most sad Most sad You run into others You have early detection alarms The most sad from Iowa Lost personal property You Insured?! You placenta accreta And your poles control all of U.S. No band aid on ur votes Mother Nature calling out to you! My shed was auctioned Florida gave first kid locked in a car In the heat Republican distractions A Prunt !shocks humans!

[elixrr]

Within the frame, you.

— They're still stuck on you, even after your death.

ft. various genshin men + star rail men

cw. angst, no comfort. your implied death.

He stares at a portrait of you across the room. Beneath their dull expression, a world of chaos, despair, and rage explodes and drives him to madness.

– Xiao, Alhaitham, Diluc, Wanderer, Dr. Ratio, Blade

Your death has already passed. You have come, and you have gone; he knows that this is simply the way of life, but he can't let it go. You meant the world to him— you mean the world to him. He dares not to say a word, nor is he able to bring himself closer to the portrait. You stare uncomfortably back at him, but your eyes are so full of life. You're dead, your body hones no being, but in there, in that photo, your eyes sparkle with life and prosperity. In that photo, you captured a special kind of love and light, and he can never feel it— never touch it again. He will never feel your light; he will never feel your love.

Yet, he still feels your hands. Your hands in the photo stick out to him, and he is reminded of your ghostly touch lingering across his hands. He can not tear his eyes away from your portrait, your hands, your smile, your bright eyes— it fills his own with tears. It's irrational, it's incomprehensible. The tears rapidly stream from his eyes, and he begins to sob. Alas, he breaks free from your gaze, but he is not free of you.

You were his, he is yours.

It is irrational, yes, but he will never let go. Not of you.

He can't stop crying over your death. He knows that, in order to heal, he needs to throw your photos out, but he can't bring himself to.

– Lyney, Kaveh, Venti, Freminet, Yanqing

Why you? Why did it have to be you? He can't handle your death, hell, he can't even bear to look at you! You've stolen his heart, and now he can't ever have it back. He's managed to turn all of the photos he has of you around, letting himself breathe once again. There was one instance where he had turned every portrait of you except for one in the hallway, and he broke down for a good ten minutes when he saw your illuminating glow.

Thoughts of you began to resurface, and he cursed at himself for letting this happen to you. He thought of your face, your eyes, the way your clothes swayed and swept with the winds. You were everything, and he let you slip past his fingers—

He stood up. He couldn't take this anymore. He stumbled from his seat and to the door, yet he stumbled too much and fell on a table. Crap! Photos of you wobbled and fell off of the table, and he managed to catch one picture. Involuntarily, he turns the frame over and looks at you.

And yet, at the sight, he drops the photo, and he realizes what happened: three portraits of you have fallen and shattered, and pieces of you and glass have scattered across the floor.

Everything, every part of you fell, slipping past his fingers, and you laid there. In each photo, you were full of life. But now? The message screams loud to him, like the glass shards, the realization stabs his heart a million times over, and he falls to his knees.

You're dead.

He starts sobbing; he can no longer hide the hurt. You're dead, the love and light of his life has shattered and dulled, you've disappeared. He pleads, begs, and cries for you to come back to life—he can't take another day of waking up knowing that you're gone.

He lays on the ground and sobs, scrambling the floor any piece of you he can find and grasping it tightly, no matter how much he bleeds.

He's been healing significantly, yet he still sometimes ponders back on the thought of you.

– Kazuha, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Albedo, Welt, Jing Yuan

You've brought him comfort and happiness, but you have passed. Most days, he can bring himself to work, to travel, to do things he'd normally be able to do before your death, but sometimes he finds his mind lingering back to you. He still keeps a photo of you with him, and sometimes– like today– he pulls it out of his pocket or bag, and he stares at what once was, what he once had and took for granted.

He will not cry over it anymore, not like he used to, but it still sinks in his heart. When he looks at you, he yearns to feel your touch, to feel your presence, but that alone is impossible, lest he visit your grave with one of his own. Yet, he still longs to hear your voice, to feel loved by you again, even if those are things unreachable. He knows that, though, and he has managed to distract himself from his longing for you.

He's tried rebounds once or twice, but his love for you remained, and none of those new relationships got anywhere. You have his heart, but he doesn't regret it. Someone will take it from your grave, perhaps. If not, then he doesn't mind being single.

Besides, he'll then be able to die, too, and reunite with you.

But for now, he safely tucks the photo of you back into his pocket, and he continues on with his life. (Albeit, still trying to live comfortably without you).

[didishawn]

Hi, I wanted to place an order but I don't know if they are open. it would be a smut between pedri x reader x eric garcia in the usa. The reader is pedri's gf, but he notices that she looks at his friend in a "different" way and eric's desire for her is also notorious, so he proposes one night. After NBA I love your way of writing, it's unique 🤍

NBA Brings You Closer to Your Friend's Gf (Eric García x Reader x Pedri) smut

Warnings: smut, threesome, mentions of past threesomes with Pedri and other teammates

Masterlist

It didn't take Eric by surprise when Pedri asked him if you could come with to their trip to the US, the boy can't clearly live without you.

But it did take Pedri by surprise when his friend agreed so fast to you joining their boy's trip.

It didn't take long for Pedri to understand it all, as he caught the look on Eric's eyes whenever his gaze met you, much to his delight it wasn't completely live which hid behind Eric's brown eyes, it was something much more explicit, dirty, naughty.

He wasn't worried, though, you only looked at him with love on your eyes, never someone else was on the picture for more than one night -Ferran or maybe Gavi were exceptions to the lujurious nights of bare skin against each other.

You liked Eric, you had told him before, not in the way you liked him before you started dating, but in the way you would let him fuck you if Pedri accepted, you never asked that of him though, it was always Pedri who brought out the idea, it excited him seeing you come undone.

That night was a perfect opportunity, his brother had gone off to enjoy the Northamerican night life, the three of you much preferred to stay in.

If only Fer knew that staying in wasn't exactly watch a movie all together, although maybe it was for Pedri, his eyes fixed on the figure of one of his closest friends between his girlfriend's legs absolutely devouring her, her hands buried into the brown hair, loud moans leaving her mouth as her eyes were only on him.

The grip Eric had on your thighs was a strong one, the man was absolutely enormous in comparison to you, it didn't take a great effort from him to keep you in place, a true beast as he enjoyed the taste of you, how your legs trembled as you begged for more, meanwhile he was about to cum deep into his underwear.

Pedri's hand moved up and down his cock as he watched Eric stand up, get rid of his boxers as his own cock pocked your entrance, you were whining uncontrollably, a hand reaching for your boyfriend as the other tried to push the member inside of you.

Pedri stored intensely as your whole being was rocked furiously, being deeply fucked as the spud if the headboard hitting the wall filled your room -lucky for you it was Eric's empty room the one next to yours, so there wouldn't be any complains directed at the three of you.

The sound of moans, of the so dirty hard ducking filled the heaviness of the room, so charged of the passion all over your veins, Pedri's own stomach already stained with white from his release.

He wished he had captured the moment you were deeply filled with his friend's release, loud sound coming from both of your mouthes as you breathed deeply, Eric's head falling into your chest to rest.

Pedri thought it over for a moment, maybe Eric could be one to add to the list of "more than a one night thing".

[grace-london-photography]

Week 3: Four Corners Gallery

This photograph is part of the "Super 8 Film" collection, within "Nothing but a Curtain". The visual coloring and aesthetic of the image portray a sense of history. The image is closely focused on two individuals, who seem against each other, despite the look of comfort on their faces. The first thing that catches my eye is that both individuals are wearing red shirts, this automatically draws emotion and danger into the image for me, without even seeing the gun at first. Then that's the second piece I notice, and it all comes together. The picture looks like it is leaning up against a fence, where the background is much darker, so the image itself is popping out with all of the whites in the photograph. Another key aspect I noticed was the dots pocked into the paper. I think this resembles gunshots, as seen in the photo. The characteristical choices, colors, and harsh shapes, really helped me connect the storyline of what was going on in this image. As for this compared to the series as a whole, it fits right into me. After reading the description, I notice even more now how the photograph is trying to break the stereotype of the eastern side. This photograph itself connects to the collection as a whole because it is taking raw images in order to break stereotypes and capture real moments across their journeys of gender, womanhood, and violence, in order to let their stories be told.

[sweet-villain]

Feelings~7~ Joseph Quinn

Previous Part

@cevansgal

Tags : @haylaansmi @peachteastudiess @thxliaaa @edtomh @eddiemuns0nl0ver @bratckerman @hellfirefiend @wren-2-d @munsonmolls @eris-rose-86 @jennay @m-rae23

@quinnswife86 @tayhar811 @grungegrrrl @sidthedollface2

It seems like Jamie got annoyed that you had forgotten about him, you hadn't called him or anything in that matter to get his attention. He would glance at his phone every chance he got to see if you had contacted him. He would go on his social media and check yours to see what you have posted. You have been posting your work, you were working. He gritted his teeth hating the fact that you took the chance to push him away instead of being an adult and talking to him.

He didn't like that Joseph and you had made up and are friends with benefits it seems. He was out of the picture and it bothered him so much. He has missed you, being able to make you laugh and smile. He wanted to be there and watch you work.

He grabbed his coat, keys, wallet and phone as he headed out the door into his car. He knew where you worked and knew that today you were working.

Jamie headed to the studio in hopes that he didn't lose you as his friend or anything else you thought of him in that matter.

He parked the car in the space he found and as he got out, some people recognized him but he was in no mood to take pictures or stop to say hello. He rushed into the studio hearing you and your client talk before his face appeared.

He heard your laugh, it brought a smile on his face.

You put a finger up to tell your client you'd be right back as you spotted Jamie leaning against the wall.

" What are you doing here?" he had his hands in his pockets as he looked around the studio. " I was hoping you'd call me, but you didn't. It bothered me therefore, I came to see you"

" I'm working" you crossed your arms across your chest, frown on your face as you stared up at him. " I can see that, but that hasn't stopped me before"

" Jamie, leave" you tell him pointing towards the door.

" Ouch, is this a way to treat your best friend?"

" We are not best friends, Bower" you scoffed. " You lost that chance when you decided to be a prick to me"

" You know I was just angry at that time, let's talk"

" Jamie. I'm working" he sighed, taking a cigarette to put it in his mouth when you plucked it out of his mouth. " Give it back, darling" he reaches for it but you throw it in the waste backset.

" Leave" you tell him, turning around to walk back to your client and apologizing to them about being interrupted. When you got back to work, Jamie stood and watched. He watched as you captured each shot perfectly, hearing your client pleased with your work. As you finished up, he helped you pack your things in silence.

" Weren't you suppose to leave like I told you?" you took the camera from him as he was putting it away. His fingers brushed against yours, but you don't shiver or anything like you used to. Not anymore. Things with Jamie has changed but he hasn't.

" I wanted to stay and see how you work" you nodded, " Okay since you did that, now leave"

" Do you wanna go out for a drink with me?" you pursed your lips and sighed. " You and I, aren't happening Bower. Weather you like it or not" he made a hm sound stepping closer to you, chest to chest.

He looks down at you, his blonde hair shielding one of his eyes. He smelled really good too, a mix with cigarettes he smokes.

" Shame" he mutters, taking out a twenty from his pocket and shoving it in your hand. " Buy yourself a drink, you look like you could use it" he says, pocking your nose but as he says the words, it's not a good friendly tone. He turns around to leave as you gap at him feeling the money in your hands.

" What was that?" your assistant asks you, " I have no idea"

-

You did use the twenty, but not for a drink like Jamie wanted you. You bought yourself dinner tonight, not wanting to cook and headed home. The wind blew your hair and children ran past you with their mom yelling them to be careful. They were out late, you thought. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, burying your nose in the collar of the jacket making your way home.

It wasn't too far ahead.

As you came to the door, Joseph is leaning against yours with his hands in his pockets. Two of them in one day, they keep chasing you like hungry wolves.

" Joseph" you greet him. He watches as you walk up the steps and take your keys out to unlock the door. " I can't stop thinking about the last kiss we shared" he says as you unlocked the door, turning on the lights as he followed you in.

" Yeah, do come in" you rolled your eyes setting the keys in the small bowl by the door and stripping off your jacket hanging it by the door along with your shoes. Joseph did the same and you waited by the wall to hear what he has to say.

" About the kiss.." he brings it up again, standing in front of you and biting on his lip. His cheeks are a little red from the cold as he stood outside waiting for you.

" What about it?" you haven't forgotten it. How soft his lips were against yours. How it felt different than all the times before.

"I can't stop thinking about it or you" he left him in the hallway heading to the kitchen to set down your food that you spend that twenty on.

You opened the box and some of it got on your finger, as you brought it to your mouth to lick it off. He was watching with his eyes, his eyes darkened.

" Y/N" he warns but you don't hear it as you opened the container that had your food, closing your eyes when the smell hits you. It smelled so good.

" You want some?" you asked him, he shakes his head. But you haven't noticed how his gaze is watching you like a pray. He licked his lips watching you, he felt his cock twitch in his pants wanting to bend you over that table and have his way with you.

" Joseph?" it sounds like a purr when you call out his name, his eyes ate filled with lust and want. He watches you drop the fork in your hand and make your way to him.

" Joe?" you call out to him but he can't take it anymore as he leans down capturing your lips with his in hunger. You whimper as his hands grab your ass pushing you against him.

You feel it. His cock presses against your thigh. He taps the back of your thighs signaling you to jump, you do wrapping your legs around him as he takes you to the bedroom.

-

The sun peeks through your wind casting a light on you as you squint, moaning in your sleep feeling a hand wrapped around your waist tugging you to the warm body. They groan as you turn your head to look at him. His curls are stuck on his forehead and some are a mess, his eyes are shut and he is sleeping on his stomach as small snores leave his lips.

You loved this sight of Joseph, he looked so peaceful.

" You're staring" he says. You chuckle rolling over to your side, kissing his cheek. " I can't help it, you're adorable like this"

" Shush" he says, you ran a hand through his curls making him groan and wiggle around. " I'm trying to sleep, sweetheart" he mumbles, a yawn escapes his mouth.

"No shit" suddenly you yelp as you were on your back with Joe on top of you, his brown eyes staring at you with your wrist pinned above your head.

" Excuse me?" he asks, " You're excused" you tell him, he leans down kissing your neck, blowing on each spot making you giggle as you tried to escape his grasp. He laughs with you and pulls away to stare down at you.

" You're so beautiful" he says, brushing a hair away from your eye.

" Say's the beautiful man himself" you blushes, and hides his face in your chest turning his cheek as he lays his head there.

" Comfy there?" he nods, his hands releasing your wrist and coming to your waist. He likes this.

" What is this Joe? What are we?"

Just like that the moment was ruined and you needed to know.

[slasherrabbitmadness]

i’m so sorry i’m being so greedy but pls can you spare some more dilf Vincent i’m telling you i would do anything for just some more 😔

DILF Professor Vincent x Female Reader

Three Drabbles!

Enjoy! These are incredibly fun to do! Please send AU drabbles my way!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Underthecut - NSFW, DILF, Daddy Kink, Oral -female Receiving- and Breeding Kink

Vincent had you pressed down into your carpet. He rutted into you, choking on his breath as your warm cunt gripped him. Each stroke and Vincent swore your pussy was made for him.

"Oh, Daddy, more like that." You lifted yourself on your elbows, the carpet pinched your skin. You yelped as his large hand gripped your neck. "Daddy," He squeezed, "I want more."

Vincent's hips stuttered, your pussy gripped him with each squeeze around your neck. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. He leaned down further to kiss your cheek. He hummed in approval as you moved your head to capture his lips in a kiss.

Vincent cursed himself, he didn't mean to have this happen. You, on the floor, letting his cock fuck into you, eagerly letting him take you from behind.

You just had to greet him at the door in nothing but his beige wool cardigan on. Your thighs looked so soft. You wore his favorite shade of lipstick. When you bit your lip as you opened the door, he struggled not to grab you back the back of your neck and slam your lips into his.

He had planned on breaking up with you. The relationship between student and teacher bore too much on him.

When you wrapped your arms around him in greeting. Nuzzled into his chest, "God, Vincent, what do I owe the honor of such an esteemed Daddy visiting little ol' me?"

You on your carpet, taking his cock, pleading for him, declaring your love for him, had him coming undone.

"Good...girl...good girl." he praised as he emptied himself in your pulsing cunt. "Taking me...like...always."

You giggled as he collapsed onto you, shied away as he nibbled on your ear. "Daddy, I was made for taking you."

He groaned, his cock hardening at your words. How you wiggled your hips on his cock just proved your own words correct.

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

Vincent spread your legs further, his hot breath fanned your wet pussy, he chuckled to himself when you bucked into his tongue as he took a long tentative lick.

You sunk further down into his large read leather office chair. You sighed as you ran your hands into his long silky hair. You shook as his lips wrapped around your clit and the low hum that rumbled up from his chest had you bucking.

Vincent ran a hand down your thigh, his fingers traced along your folds. He moaned in response to your sob as his thick fingers filled you.

You sobbed as he sucked harder, your eyes averted his gaze, his blue eye taking you in. You glanced to the picture on his desk, took in his two daughters, one on either side of him. The mom was long out of the picture.

"Ow! Vincent!" You reprimand, he pinched your thigh, his brow furrowed. You whined when he pulled his lips off your clit. Vincent fished out his cock from his slacks, a hand went to behind your neck forced your head down to look. He slapped his thick cock along your wet slit, you tilted your face, "Pay attention," He brought his swollen, leaking head to your entrance, "To me." He kissed you, capturing your wanton moan.

You wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders, his cock stuffed you, your legs wrapped around his lower half as he lifted you onto the table. He pushed aside papers and pens, your ass sat directly on the cold wood.

He fucked into you, his cock throbbed as your walls clenched around him. He eyed the photo on his desk, him and his daughters. He pulled away from the kiss, a deep stare. He smiled as you did, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he smiled to himself, 'she'd look good...I'm sure..she'd be a good mom.'

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

"Well, Mr. Sinclair," Vincent's breath hitched. You ran your hands over your stomach, pinched your nipples, and let out a breathy moan. You adjusted your graduation cap on your head, "Like what you see?"

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, his palm dug into his clothed erection, He nodded, his tongue dated across his lips. He raised a hand, motioning you to come to him. You laughed as you slowly walked over, swaying your hips with each step. You swallowed as he stood up, freed his cock through the zipper.

You cocked your head to the side, "Do I gotta give you a present, Mr. Sinclair, for being such a good teacher and passing me?"

He pulled you in, his cock pocked into your stomach, He looked down, "No," He kissed your forehead, "Give...you a gift."

You shuddered as pulled you down onto the bed. You dipped your tongue past his lips, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He laid back, gripped the base of his cock as he pushed it along your entrance, he hissed, "Already wet?"

"Only for you, Daddy." You sink down onto him. An excited giggle sprung forth from you as he threw his head back.

Vincent gripped your hips as he worked himself into you, a harsh groan as you dug your nails into his chest. He dug his nails into your ample flesh, "You feel good, your body" He sucked in a breath, "You look...so good."

"Yeah, Daddy?"

"You'd look better...Pregnant." You fell over him, the graduation cap fell off. "Want that?" He ran his hands up your back, he held you close, he whispered in your ear, "Want that?... Give me another baby?"

Your lower lip trembled, "That my graduation present?"

He nodded with a smile.

You sobbed above him, lips found his. You let him roll himself above you, he pushed himself deep within you.

He had imaged impregnating you since the day he had you in the supply closet, imagined claiming you right then and there. How beautiful you'd look with a cute belly. How beautiful you'd be with his baby in your arms as you spent a day with his daughters.

"You'll be...perfect." He whispered in your ear, stocking your hair as he rutted into you, "So...perfect."

[badassbiburgerbob]

I love Newkirk, if Y'all couldn't already tell.

And I will ship him and Carter until the day I die. It has now taken first place in my little Fandom heart. You can pry it from my cold dead hands. Their relationship is just *chef kiss*.

But what also makes me inexplicably happy, is picturing him with Rita (his girl) just happily living life after the war. I think she was only mentioned once, but I like the idea that he did love her. And that they pocked up where they left off after the war. Like just being all domestic and loving with a lot of 'darling' and 'My love' being thrown around. And a shit ton of just pure real unfiltered love. Not necessarily sexual either (though there would probably be a good amount of that. But that's for a different post). I sometimes like to picture them having this wholesome, no strings attached, soulmate type relationship. Both sassy little shits with hearts of gold, except she wears hers closer to her sleave. But she knows he's a softie deep down.

Cuz like, he was captured in France, meaning when she sent him that pie (that Schultz ate) she'd already been waiting for him for about 5 years, assuming that he spent about a year in France before it fell and the show arguably takes place in and around 1944.

And sometimes I like to think she was still madly in love with him when it ended. Enough to accept any hang ups and issues he may have brought back with him. I like to imagine their relationship as one full of understanding. And just working through their PTSD together. This is assuming she spent some time in and around London with the air raids.

I like to picture them having a sort of happy ever after. Not the Disney kind where its all wonderful and tied up with colorful bows. But the 'through the ups and down' kind. The kind you hear about from some small town where a couple died in their 90s holding hands because they still loved each other that much after all that time.

He deserves love and picturing him getting that love and being happy just does wonderful things to my heart.

[weelittleweasley]

Amnesia (final part) | Draco x Reader

BEFORE YOU READ...PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

Prompt: After your memories come back, you and Draco can finally pick up where you left off. However, with all good things come the bad things. When memories of the painful past start to erupt, how do you and Draco move forward? Or will you?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content (bondage kink, dirty talk), panic attacks,  language, fighting (verbal), anxiety, PTSD (Please do not read if you think any of this will be triggering! Take care of yourself!)

Word count: 8.9k

A/N:  So sorry for the delay in releasing this final part. Many thanks to those you keep coming back for more. All my love! This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love.

Flashbacks told in italics!

Your body is nearly shaking from how hard you are holding onto Draco, arms wrapped around each other, refusing to let the other go. It isn’t until you feel the tears running down your cheeks that you realize you are crying in your tight, loving embrace. Draco strokes your hair, inhaling your scent deeply, the sense of comfort washing over his body, calming every fear he had about losing you. 

The two of you stayed in this position for what felt like forever. You would have stayed there longer if you could have. His arms felt like home. The feeling of his chest pressed against yours so firmly that you could feel his heartbeat align with yours. Slowly, Draco peeled away from your embrace so he could hold your face in his hands. His eyes were brimmed with tears before he noticed the tears streaming down your face. “Oh, no, darling,” he chuckled, kissing the tears the left your eyes. “Don’t cry. This is supposed to be a happy moment,” he tells you, peppering your cheeks in kisses as you giggle. 

Draco looks into your eyes as you blush. His gaze always made you feel shy. He still had such an effect on you even after all these years. You start to lean closer to him to press a long awaited kiss to his pink lips, but he stops you. “What? Let me kiss you,” you tell him.

“I believe I owe you a story tonight,” Draco smirks. You sigh, but can’t help but smile at him. “We can pick up right where we left off last night,” he tells you. “Then I’m all yours,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

You teasingly push his shoulder. You excitedly crawl on your bed and lay on your pillow, tapping the spot next to you for your boyfriend to lay down next to you. He sighs and shakes his head before obliging and laying next to you. You rest your head on his chest and his arm slithers around you waist and the other traces circles on your hips lazily. The gesture could honestly put you to sleep, but your excitement to be with Draco kept you wide awake. You snuggle deeper into Draco’s touch as he chuckles, “Comfy?” You nod your head and you can feel him smile into the kiss he places on the top of your head. “Alright, now where were we yesterday...ah, our first kiss.”

When you two arrive back to the common room, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment. “Thank you for tonight. I needed that,” you tell him.

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for saying yes,” Draco tells you. “I like you, (Y/N). Truly. I do.”

His words make your heart speed up. You let in a shaky breath before responding, “I like you, Draco. I do. Truly.”

That’s when he knew it was time. He smiled before leaning down and dipping his head to connect your lips. 

Draco’s lips were cold from being outside for so long, but his kiss was warm. As you kissed him back, his hands found your hips and pulled you sharply closer to him. You lightly squealed as he did so, but wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips harder against his. He allowed a small moan to escape his lips as you tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, tugging at his roots lightly. His large hands squeezed your hips before trailing down your lower back before taking your bum into both of his hands and squeezing it lightly. You gasp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. He tasted of cool peppermint as his tongue swirled around your mouth before teasingly bitting your glossed bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. The action was undoubtedly sexually charged and you couldn’t help but have a rush of heat to your stomach. Draco was undeniably hot. 

He attempted to pull away from the kiss, but you weren’t going to let him get away that quickly. You grab his face again and kiss him again, this time with much more urgency and desire than the previous kiss. Draco smirks into the kiss, kissing you back with just as much intensity, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. One hand rests on your lower back and his other on the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair. He pulls on your roots, making your head lean back so he can kiss your neck, placing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck and jawline. You sigh at the contact and hold onto Draco’s shoulders as he does so. “Shit,” you breathe out as Draco starts biting and sucking on the flesh at the base of your neck. He wanted to leave a mark on you that was so big and so dark that this whole damned school could see that someone had marked their territory. If you were going to be his, Draco wanted everyone to know that you were his and his only. 

Draco’s lips part from your neck as his blue eyes stare into yours, the both of you breathless, panting to catch your breaths. In that moment, something clicked in your brain. The way that Draco looked at you made you feel vulnerable and all your guards came down so easily, but you were strangely okay with that. The boy did something to you. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you trusted him. “I’m going to make you mine, (Y/N). I swear on that,” he pants. “I don’t break my promises.”

“Alright,” you smile at him as he smirks. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Draco finishes the story, you look up at him. “Well, I certainly am yours,” you tell him, kissing his nose as he scrunches his nose in the process. “You didn’t break that promise.”

Draco props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t break any promises, darling. It’s not in my nature to do so,” he tells you as you rolls his eyes. Draco definitely had an issue with his pride, but you were willing to look past it. “Anyway,” he grabs your hip and pulls you on top of him in one swift motion. “I think you wanted to do something earlier...would you still like to do it?” he asks, eyes glued on your chest as it is pressed against his, causing your breasts to slightly spill out of your v-neck jumper. 

You notice his gaze and place a finger under his chin and push his gaze up to your eyes. “Eyes are up here, Malfoy,” you speak as he gulps. His eyes scan your face as he bites his lip.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, (Y/L/N),” Draco speaks as he let his hands run down your back, lightly grasping your bum in his hands. “Godric, I’ve missed you.”

And with that, you press your lips against his. You couldn’t take it anymore. His lips were warm and soft and immediately responded to your lips on his. Your hand cupped his cheek as you kissed him, his arms wrapping around your figure tightly as to not let you go. Your mouths moved in synch, tongues pushing against each other, your bottom lips then being captured between his teeth as he tugged on it lightly. As you deepened the kiss, Draco sharply pulls away and digs into his pants pocked to grab his wand. 

With a swift motion, he says, “Muffliato,” whilst pointing at the door. The door clicks with a lock and Draco lets a deviously chuckle reverberate through his chest, making your want for him grow. “Can’t have any visitors now, can we?” he connects your lips again, hungry for more. 

Before you register what’s going on, Draco flips you over so he’s on top now and he pulls his black shirt over his head and onto the floor. You reach to touch his toned body, but he pins your hands over your head and pulls your jumper off in an easy motion to reveal your breasts over flowing out of your bra. His lips find yours again as his hands grope your breasts outside of the thin material of your bra as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours. He starts to grind his hips against yours as you groan, feeling his erection through his dress pants. “Draco,” you moan as he smiles while kissing down your neck.

He mumbles against your skin, “Tell me what you want, kitten. Use your words.”

You gulp as he continues to rub himself against you as you struggle to formulate a sentence. “I-I...shit...” you speak as he grinds against you, “I want you...please.”

“I need more detail than that, kitten,” he teases in your ear before nibbling it. “Paint me a picture,” he speaks. “I wanna hear that pretty little mouth say what that dirty mind is thinking,” he says before unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs before throwing them to the floor. “Go on.”

You relish in Draco’s hands that rake up your thighs, your stomach, up to your chest before landing on your neck and then your chin, forcing your eyes on his. He wanted you to look deep into his eyes as you confessed how much you wanted him to fuck you senseless. 

As your eyes stared into his piercing blue ones, you gather up the words to say, “I want you to fuck me.” A smirk appears on his face as he urges you to go on, his hands tailing up and down your body. “I want you to take me how you want to take me,” you confess as his hands slip into your panties, you gasping. “I...I want to you have me a squirming mess, Draco. I want you...fuck,” you whisper as Draco starts to rub lazy figure eights on your clit. “I-I...I want...I-”

Draco teases you further, “You want what, kitten?” You gulp, screwing your eyes shut as he continues to rub your clit, picking up his speed before plunging one of his fingers into your wet core. You arch your back in pleasure as he starts to pump in and out of you slowly. “Tell me.” You cannot form any words, too distracted the pleasure that is building up inside of you. Draco’s thumb swirls around your clit as he inserts another finger inside of you, pumping in and out, curling inside of you, hitting your g-spot as you moan loudly. “Tell me what you want, baby, or I’ll stop.” You still don’t speak as Draco continues to pleasure you. But then he abruptly stops, making you whine. He grabs your jaw and forces you to watch him. “Did I stutter? I said to tell me what you want. Only good girls get what they want.”

You gulp as watch him stick his fingers in his mouth as it drips with your juices, tasting you on his tongue. The sight was enough to make you cum. You inhale deeply, you rest rising and falling before speaking, “I want you to take me how you want me. I want you to make me beg for your cock.”

His mouth turns into a mischievous grin before his fingers are inside you again as you moan. “As you wish,” he whispers huskily in your ear. His thumb is on your clit again, harder and faster, making your mind reel with pleasure. “You want me to fuck that tight pussy of yours, huh? You want my cock inside you?” he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers and his words. 

You nod feverishly, “Please.”

Draco is pumping in and out of you hard, his thumb sloppily drawing circles on your clit, making you claw at his back, digging your nails into his flesh. Your toes curl in pleasure. “Yeah? You like that? You want me balls deep in you don’t you? You want me to fuck you senseless, kitten? You want me to fuck you like a good girl?” he growls in your ears as you moan out loudly.

You’re inches away from finishing before Draco stops what he was doing again, making you groan in annoyance. You look at him with an annoyed expression on your face as he undoes his belt. Before you can ask him what’s he’s doing, he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. Then taking his black leather belt, he ties your wrists together and then ties it to your bed’s headboard. A takes a good look at you tied up underneath him and he smiles devilishly at the sight. “This is how I want to take you tonight,” he growls as you wetness grows. 

He pulls his trousers down along with his boxers. His cock is rock hard for you as it hits his stomach. You gulp, you almost forgot how large he was. Draco rolls a rubber on his length and pumps himself a few times before lining himself up to your entrance, but not pushing himself inside of you. “Dray, please,” you whine.

“You said you wanted to beg, so I’m going to make you beg,” he grabs your chin. Draco teases you, pushing his tip in between your folds, up and down as you arch your back. “I said beg,” he demands.

“Please, fuck me, Draco, I need you so badly, please,” you beg, your eyes pleading him as he continues to tease you. He wanted to basically squirming, writhing, and yelling underneath him. And he hadn’t even put himself inside you.  “I need your cock inside my tight little pussy. I’m so wet for you, baby. Please I want you to fuck me so good like you always do,” you try to reach for him, but the belt restrains you from touching him. 

Draco chuckles as you squirm under him. He knew how badly you wanted him, needed him. But he wanted to see how long he could get away with it. Slowly, he pushed his tip inside of you as you groaned out. Draco bit back a moan, needing to refrain from pushing the rest of his length into your wet pussy. “You want more? I want you to scream for me, kitten. Fucking beg for my cock,” he growl.

Your mind is reeling and you can’t get over how your heat is throbbing for him. “Draco, fuck me, already won’t you?” you yell. “I can’t take it anymore I need your cock railing into me so hard that I see stars!”

And that’s all it takes for him to pound the rest of his length into you. You gasp at the action as Draco groans. He gives you little time to adjust to his size as you squeeze your eyes shut, the action a little painful at first. “Take it,” he groans. “If it hurts, good. I want you to take my whole cock into that tight pussy.”

His words just feed your wetness as you moan out. You loved when he talked like this; demanding and dominating. It was hot. “Yes, like that, baby,” you moan out as he pounds in and out of you.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I’m pounding into you?” he urges you as you are a moaning mess underneath him. Your eyes are screwed shut and head tossed back in pleasure. “You like that, you dirty little slut? You’re such a slut for me, I fucking love it,” he groans into you as he firmly grabs your hips, his hips pushing in and out of your core, his dick covering in your wetness. “Who do you belong to?” he groans.

You moan, “You, Draco. I belong to you. I’m all yours, baby.”

The words combined with your walls clenching around his hard cock send Draco over the moon. The two of you are in states of euphoria as he pounds in and out of you. Draco takes one of your breasts in his hands before ducking his head down, licking, biting, and sucking on your nipple before moving to the next one. You see stars, your toes curling up, walls tightening around Draco. You were so close. 

“Dray, I’m gonna fucking come,” you breathe out as he continues to pound into you.

He presses a firm kiss to your lips before dragging his thumb across your clit again, making you cry out in pleasure. “You come when I tell you to,” he growls. He continues to circle your clit, his hard cock rocking in and out. “You wanna come for me, my little slut?” he speaks as you nod. “Yeah?” he keeps fucking you as you cry out his name, your body shaking. You couldn’t hold it any long. “Come all over my dick,” he says and you immediately release all over him. Draco finishes right after you, continuing to pump, riding out both of your highs.

Draco collapses next to you on the bed, the both of you sweaty, panting messes. Your eyes are still screwed shut as you catch your breath. Draco literally made you see stars. Your pussy was sore as ever, but Merlin was it worth it. Draco grabs a tissue from your nightstand and rolls the condom off and into the trash. He looks over at you and smiles before freeing you from the make shift handcuffs. 

You rub your wrists that now have marks on them from how tight that belt was around them. You weren’t complaining. It was hot. “Merlin, Draco,” you pant, sitting up. 

He chuckles, “I missed that.” He presses a kiss to your lips gently before going into your pajama drawer and pulling out a t-shirt that he had given you a while ago. You smile and happily toss it on as Draco pulls on his boxers. He climbs into the bed next to you and pulls the sheets over you. “I’m so glad that things are somewhat back to normal now,” he confesses, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you wrap your arms around him.

“I am, too, love,” you tell him. “I can’t imagine life without you,” you confess to him.

Draco looks at you, “You’re my world, darling. I love you.”

“I love you, Draco,” you smile back.

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

A month has passed since the night you regained your memory and you and Draco reunited again. Since then, every thing has been smooth sailing. You moved out of your parents and you and Draco moved into a flat in London right outside of the city like you two had planned before the war. Draco wanted to get away from magic, from Hogwarts, from everything. He just needed to take a breather from it all before he came back to it again. 

In the meantime, you two have been taking on muggle jobs to support yourselves and at night, Draco studies to become a healer. He had made this decision when you had decided to move in together. Draco wanted to be able to help people in order to make up for all the pain that he caused people in the past. Although the gesture was so thoughtful and kind, you couldn’t help but feel sad when Draco told you. He had been through so much over the course of the past five years. His parents, the Dark Lord, the torture emotionally, mentally, and physically...and yet he still wanted to help people. 

You were happier than ever to quite honest. You were with the person you loved, you were able to support yourself, you had a great support system. Things were great. The one thing was that you were still suffering from the brain injury. Your memory was fully restored, but sometimes you would get vivid flashbacks that would disturb your day to day life. It would happen anywhere, at home, at work, at night when you were trying to sleep. Some of the flashbacks were happy, some random, others were frightening. A lot of them were flashbacks of the day of your injury.

You would be fast asleep and that’s when they came, interrupting your sweet dreams. 

“Draco!” you scream with every last fiber in your body. You launch yourself into a run down the stairs and towards the bridge. You push people out of your way in a beeline for your love, hoping that he’ll stop for you, but he doesn’t. His parents keep an iron grip on him, pulling him along the bridge. Draco turns around, seeing you run as he tries to writhe out of his mother’s grip. His face is full of concern, but he can’t escape. His father puts his body in front of Draco’s as Draco screams out in pain and fury. “Draco!” you yell.

Your feet carry you as fast as possible as you run toward the bridge, trying to get to him as quickly as possible before it was too late. Draco claws at his father, trying to get past him. As you run you feel your breath becoming short and your lungs burn, but you ignore the sensation and push. You need to get to him. He needed to get to you. You needed to save each other.

But that all came to a screeching halt when you name being yelled out in horror by Draco. “(Y/N), watch out!” someone screams a blood curdling scream as you look up to see a large rock come crashing down.

You woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, sitting straight up in bed. But Draco would always be by your side, holding you tightly, stroking your hair, gentle kisses on the head, followed with a few “I’m here,” “I’m not going anywhere, darling,” “It’s all over,” “No one is going to hurt you.” Eventually you would fall back asleep in his embrace, but the fear that the nightmare would come back would always haunt you. It was often that you had nights like these, but it was comforting to know that Draco was there for you. 

As you stood in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher and Draco cleaned the table with a rag, you happily hummed. You closed the dishwasher and ran the sink to start cleaning the pots. But before you could start, you ears started to ring and you felt lightheaded. You knew what was coming, even though you didn’t want to. A vivid flashback came to the front of your memory.

You stood in Draco’s dormitory, your lungs burning and face hot from crying. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the walls were coming in around you. It was a panic attack and a bad one at that. Normally you would seek comfort in Draco, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. “Don’t come near me,” you hyperventilate, walking to the opposite side of the room. “How can you fucking do something like that to me and then want to comfort me like nothing happened? That’s so...so...manipulative!” you scream at him.

Draco’s once concerned face twisted into anger. “Don’t use that word when it comes to me, (Y/N), you know damn well I am not like that!” he yells back at you. “I told you that nothing happened between us. She initiated things.”

The two of you were in your monthly screaming match. People knew that you and Draco loved each other something fierce, but when you fought, it was ugly. No one wanted to witness it. The topic of this screaming match? Pansy Parkinson. What had happened was you came into the Slytherin common room after a long night of studying for your OWLs in the library when you spotted your love and Pansy sitting on the couch. Well, Draco sat on the couch while Pansy found herself comfortably sitting in Draco’s lap, pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. You went batshit on Pansy in front of the common room, but save Draco the embarrassment and decided that you twos screaming match would be in private. Draco insisted that nothing happened. He was sitting on the couch when she came over and sat in his lap and started to flirt with him. 

“Nothing may have happened, Draco, but the thing is you didn’t even think to stop it. You are always too busy thinking about yourself and what you want! What about me? Do you ever think of me and what I want?” you ask him, tears rolling down your cheeks as he just stands, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He looked unbothered which just made your blood boil. “Do you have anything to say for yourself? An apology?”

Draco sighs, “Sure. I’m sorry that you never believe me. I’m sorry that you don’t think I’m unwavering in my loyalty to you.”

You laugh, “You’re a real prick, Malfoy. You know that? You are just like your family. Cold, rude, and heartless.” You start to make your way to the door, but Draco blocks the door. “Move.”

He doesn’t move. “How come you can’t trust me?” You scoff. “I’m serious. You don’t trust me at all.”

“No, Draco, I do trust you. I trust you too much. That’s the problem,” you confess before pushing him out of your way and leaving his room.

You come back to your senses and see Draco staring at you. “Flashback?” he asks as you nod your head. “You alright? You wanna talk about it?” he rubs your back, and his touch makes you flinch after that memory. “What happened?”

You close your eyes for a moment and shake your head, exhaling. “Um,” you start, “Yeah, um...it was a memory of a fight...of us. We were yelling at each other in your dorm.”

Draco shakes his head, “What were we yelling about? Something silly I imagine.” His attempts to crack a joke weren’t working and he noticed how uncomfortable you. “Do you need me to leave you alone for a moment?” 

“No,” you jump. “No, darling, it’s okay, I’m fine. I need to just...talk through it. Think about it before I carry on...” Draco shakes his head. “We were arguing about Pansy Parkinson and how I um...that night when I walked in on her sitting on your lab in the common room and I flipped.” Draco nods his head. He was familiar with the memory. You had given him the silent treatment for two weeks as a consequence until he send you eight dozen red roses to your bed and a heartfelt apology. “We fought a lot...” you trail off.

Draco starts to dry dishes, “All couples fight, love.”

Sighing, you say, “That’s not what I meant. We fought a lot, Dray. I keep getting flashbacks of our fights recently. I haven’t gotten flashbacks of the same one. They’re all different fights. And they’re all bad...What did people think of us?” Draco chuckled. “I’m serious, Draco. Our fights were never about silly things. It’s all been scary and serious. We fought about you and the dark mark, we fought about infidelity, we fought about you not liking my relationship with Ron-”

“Don’t bring Weasle-bee into this,” he stops you which earns him a glare. 

“Don’t call him that, Draco. Ron is and will always be my best friend. You bullied them at Hogwarts, even when we were together, you never stopped. Which, now that I think of it, is a shit thing to do. I mean, I told you to stop. Even though I was never fond of your friends, I never was rude or short with them. I was respectful,” you retort. Draco stays silent. “Hello? Earth to Malfoy?” 

Draco looks at you. “I’m listening.”

You shake your head, “Okay, but you’re not responding. I don’t appreciate you ignoring me when I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“Don’t pick a fight when there doesn’t need to be one, (Y/N). It’s childish,” Draco puts away dishes. 

You scoff. “Childish?! Childish is ignoring your girlfriend when she’s trying to have an adult conversation with you about your relationship!” 

He walks out of the kitchen and into the living room whilst speaking, “We aren’t having a conversation about our relationship, (Y/N). We are having a conversation about Ronald Weasel-bee which I would rather not talk about with you!” 

You follow him into the living room, not ready to end this conversation. You were just getting started. “The relationship that I seem to have with Ron Weasley,” you correct him, “seems to be affecting our relationship. Which I never thought it would or did, but apparently I stand corrected.”

Draco plops on the couch with a huff. “Come on, (Y/N), I have eyes. I’ve seen the way Ron looks at you and how you two act together. Everyone had their bets on you and him being a couple before he and Hermione got together. For Merlin’s sake, Zabini was convinced you were going to break up with me in sixth year so you could get together with Ronald after he and Lavender Brown had broken up!”

This was news to you. So Draco’s friends questioned your loyalty to him? “Ron is like family to me. There is nothing between us and nothing will ever be,” you tell him. You had no intention of telling him about what happened at the Burrow and your bubbling feelings for Ron a month and half ago. “Why you are still carrying on about this is beyond me. Not to mention, all of my friends thought you were going to break up with me in sixth year so you could hook up with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass! Let’s not forget about the time at that Slytherin common room party where you had too much fire whisky and you had the audacity to ask me if I would be down for a threesome with Pansy and she was standing behind you holding your hand!” 

Fury starts to pound through your blood as Draco gives a chaste wave of his hand. “Oh, please, (Y/N), that’s different. I got way to drunk that night and you know that was taken out of context. You know Pansy was always up my ass at Hogwarts no matter how many times I told her I wasn’t interested,” he dismissed, now walking into your shared bedroom.

You angrily groan. “That’s not the point I’m making, Draco. It doesn’t make you a great person just because you stayed loyal to me! That’s the bare fucking minimum.”

“Have I been a shitty boyfriend then, (Y/N)? Huh? Is that what you’re trying to get at? That I’ve been a bad partner?” you can hear the anger rising in his voice. You knew that he would start screaming soon, but you were ready to test the waters. 

You sigh, “That’s not what I’m saying, Draco.”

“Then what exactly are you saying?” he says curtly as you furrow your brows and look at him in shock. He rubs his face. “I’m going to take a shower. I just need time by myself to think. Can you do that? Can you leave me alone for more than ten minutes?”

Before you can answer, he disappears into the bathroom with a slam of the door. Draco has never behaved like this before. He usually liked to talk, rather scream, things out before storming away. Storming away was more your thing. Now this was a role reversal. 

You hear the shower start and you sigh. You sit at your vanity and braid your hair for bed and change into a long t-shirt and sleep shorts. Hopefully, you and Draco could talk before going to bed. 

The shower was still running ten minutes later after it first turned on. You sighed and climbed into your shared bed and sat a thought about what to say when he came out of the bathroom. Should you apologize? No, he was overreacting. Should you offer to talk it out? How should you approach him and his hot temper?

Before you can think further, the bathroom door opens to reveal a freshly showered Draco in his boxers. He starts out of the bathroom and heads for the door. “Where are you going?” you ask him. 

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he speaks.

“Please don’t,” you sigh. “Stay with me. I don’t care if we’re fighting, I still want you next to me.”

Draco stops for a moment and with a sigh, comes back to the bed. You softly smile, but he doesn’t reciprocate one back. He climbs into the bed and even though you didn’t expect a cuddle from him, you wanted one so badly just to know that this fight wouldn’t last forever. But he just turned his back to you and turned off his light, signaling he was done for the night.

With a huff, you turn off your light and lay back on your pillow. You stare at the ceiling, mind rushing with a million thoughts, but you don’t pay any mind to any of them. You are too focused on you and Draco both going to bed angry. In your mind, you knew that going to bed angry was never good and you knew that you both should go to bed somewhat content in order to approach tomorrow with new clarity.

An idea pops into your mind as you slowly sit up and grab Draco’s arm gently and pull him towards you so now he’s on his back. “What, (Y/N),” he states more than asks.

You lean down and kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth. He hesitantly kisses you back as you straddle his lap. He sits up to kiss you deeper as you tangle your fingers in his hair and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. Even though you two were pissed at each other, that didn’t mean you were physically repulsed by the other. 

Slowly, you start to rub yourself against his lap as he groans. You smirk into the kiss and continue to rub against him as you feel his hardening length in his boxers. Draco lets out another strained groan as you start to kiss his neck as he let out a sigh as you leave wet kisses down his neck.

As you go to pull off your shirt, Draco stops you. “No, no, no,” Draco says. “I don’t think we should have sex tonight. I...Yeah, I just need time to think for the night.”

A little embarrassed you climb off of your boyfriend’s lap and back onto your side of the bed. Draco remains sitting up and rubs his face before turning his back to you again and attempting to fall asleep. 

Was he really that upset? Or was he upset with himself? What was going on? Did he not find you attractive anymore? 

Rather than entertain these thoughts, you decided it was best to just force yourself to sleep. That night you didn’t have any nightmares, or dreams. You just felt lonely.

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

Morning came quickly and you turned to Draco’s side of the bed just to find it empty. Your thoughts were confirmed when you hear the coffee machine brewing in the kitchen and the clattering of the dishwasher being unstacked. 

You sit up and rub your eyes. How should you start this conversation with Draco? You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen because it most definitely did. He some accusations about you and Ron and not to mention avoided the whole conversation about him and Pansy. 

Climbing out of your bed, you leave the bedroom and head into the kitchen. “Good morning,” you speak, looking at Draco who wore his boxers and what looked like an old Slytherin jumper.

He looks at you and gives a quick, “Morning.” He continues to unstack the dishwasher as you stand in front of him. “Coffee on the counter for you,” he gestures to the mug full of coffee and a splash of cream like you liked it. 

You mumble a thanks and sip on the coffee your boyfriend made you. He continues to tidy up as you stand and sip; the both of you still silent. Neither of you knew how to start this conversation. 

After about an awkward five minutes in silence, Draco decides to speak first. “We should talk about last night,” he starts and you give a knowing smile and nod as he offers a soft smile. “To be honest, I think we should just move on from it. The past is in the past and we changed. We’re back and we’re better than we were before. I love you, I’m happy with you, and no one can change that.” He smiles at you as you give him a soft smile. Draco walks to you and places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Alright?”

You stand there thinking about what he said. However, in that little speech, you didn’t agree. You shouldn’t just move on, you need to work through what happened, not to mention how he essentially gaslit you at one point. Not to mention, there was no apology with how short he was with you. “Um,” you start. “I don’t think we should just move on, darling. I agree I want to get over it just as badly as you, but we should at least talk about what was said.”

Draco rolls his eyes, “But can’t we just agree what we both said was stupid and unnecessary? We don’t need to dwell on the past.”

You gently untangle yourself from Draco’s grip. “I don’t think any of what I said or you said was stupid. I think it’s important we explain to each other why we said what we said. In case you forgot, I’m still remembering bits and pieces from the past, so talking about it helps me.”

And that’s when Draco snaps. “Well in case you forgot, the past has been nothing, but traumatic for me so I’d rather not keep remembering it and move on with my life. Merlin, and you think I’m self-absorbed?”

His words send a shock wave through you. “That was uncalled for,” you laugh. Draco just groans and leaves the kitchen. “Draco, you know that I’m so sorry for everything that your parents forced you into over the past couple of years. But we can’t pretend like your past or my past didn’t happen. We’ve grown up. We can move on like adults. We can’t just pretend like all of those horrible things didn’t happen,” you try to reason with him. “The past shapes us.”

Draco shakes his head, “It’s easier said than done, (Y/N)! About our past, I never cheated on you and I never meant to hurt you when I did. But I would rather focus on our relationship now than what it used to be.”

“We can’t move on if we don’t learn from our mistakes of what we used to be!” you exclaim. “That’s why we need to talk about it!”

Now, he’s getting frustrated and it’s evident in how his face contorts. “I’m not having this conversation right now, (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you’re gonna pretend this conversation isn’t happening, huh? What else? We’re gonna pretend like that night with you and Pansy didn’t happen? We’re gonna pretend like you didn’t make my best friends’ lives miserable at Hogwarts? We’re gonna pretend like I didn’t ask you to stop after years of begging you?” you knew you were pushing his buttons. What you were doing was wrong, but you needed him to talk to you about this.

Draco is furious now. He looks at you angrily and says, “Oh okay! We’re gonna pretend like Weasley didn’t want to fuck you all those years at Hogwarts? We’re gonna pretend he doesn’t hate me because I’m in love with you? We’re gonna pretend like I didn’t protect you from everything I could?” he yells at you.

You are as pissed as Draco now. “What is your obsession with Ron and I’s friendship?” you pull at your hair. 

“The guy is a bloody fucking prick! He never liked me and never wanted you to date me! Admit it! He’s warned you about me before and told you all these awful things about me? Like how I can’t be trusted?” Draco asks. You heart sinks a little, knowing that Ron did and has done that in the past. But you knew it was because Ron was scared of you getting hurt, not about him being in love with you. Ron was in love with Hermione and everyone knew that. 

“That’s because Ron has always cared about me! Ever since we came to Hogwarts, he cared about me! You only started caring about me when I suddenly became ‘hot’ to you. You only started caring about me when it was convenient for you!” you accused him. 

That’s what stung Draco the most. The accusation that he never cared about you and he only cared about your looks. Draco had always cared about you even when you weren’t dating. Before he even said anything romantic to you, Draco always watched you from across the room. Watching you smile, crinkling your nose, throwing your head back in laughter. He cared about you when you looked stressed in the library, tugging at the roots of your hair. He cared about you when he saw you run down the hall, wiping tears from your eyes as Hermione followed you close behind. Draco cared about you. Always. Draco loved you even when he didn’t know it.

But instead of telling you that, he let his temper get the best of him. “Then how about you go fuck Ron?” he screams. “Since he cares so much about him, go song him, why don’t you?” 

And that’s when you did it. You let go of every fear you had about Draco finding out what happened between you and Ron. You stopped thinking and just said it. “Guess what? I already did!”

That’s when Draco’s face dropped. Disbelief crossed his face and his heart sank to his ass. HIs face turned sheet white like he had seen a ghost. It felt like he just got slapped across the face. “What?”

“I kissed Ron! The night I got back from the hospital and spent it at the Burrow? I kissed Ron!” It was like you were vomiting the words, you couldn’t stop no matter that your mind was screaming to stop it. “Right after I got your letter, I kissed him!”

That’s what sent Draco over the edge. How could you? “You kissed him...while I was trying to get you to remember our relationship?” he asks in disbelief.

The gravity of the situation slaps you in the face as your eyes widen. What have you done? “Draco, I-”

“I don’t know if I can hear anything else,” he shakes his head.

“No! Draco please listen,” you grab his hands as he looks at you pained. You just broke this boy in front of you. “I was so confused after the accident and I was getting my feelings for you confused with the feelings I had for Ron...I can’t explain it, but I know that I love you. It’s not Ron. It never has been and it never will be! I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please Draco you have to know that I love you and you’re the only one for me,” you start to get choked up as you see Draco start to cry in front of you. “It’s always been you, Dray.”

You hug Draco tight as you both cry in the others arms. You both had made mistakes in the past with him and Pansy, you and Ron, the lying, the fighting, everything. You were both at fault. 

The two of you stood there in the middle of your living room, crying in each others arms about how fucked this whole thing was. Your relationship had gone through the wringer. You went through Umbridge, when he got his dark mark, the war, and an amnesia spell. Needless to say, you two’s love for each other has been put to the test multiple times. You were bound to crack at one point. And this was the breaking point. 

You pull away and look at each other. You both know what needs to happen, but neither of you want to say it. Draco takes a shaky breath in. “I don’t want you to leave, but I know you need to. We need to,” he speaks. 

You nod and wipe your eyes. “I know. We owe it to ourselves,” you rub his cheek. “I love you, Draco. Always and forever.”

“I love you, (Y/N). Always and forever. And that’s a promise. You know I don’t break those,” he tells you and that’s when you heart shatters. 

But it had to be done.

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

You slowly walked up the rock path, bags in your hands as you sigh. You didn’t think you would be back at this place at this time, but here you were. You gently knock on the door and the door flings open to reveal George Weasley. “(Y/N)? I didn’t know you were coming over,” he smiles at you, but he notices your red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Darling, what’s wrong?” he grabs your shoulders. “Come here,” he pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Look whose here,” George says as you walk in and he takes your bags.

On the couch, there sits Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. It was like they were expecting you. The sight of your close friends makes your heart swell and the tears start to brim your eyes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Hermione rushes to you and embraces you in the tightest hug. “What happened?”

Ron grabs your hands and gives them a squeeze. “Are you alright? Do you need anything? Mum!” Ron calls, frantically as Ginny runs to find Molly Weasley. She would know what to do. 

“I’m fine everyone. Please. I’m fine,” you offer them a sad smile. “Um, Draco and I ended things. We realized neither of us are okay to be in a relationship right now,” you shrug as Hermione squeezes your hand. She could understand where you are coming from. “I decided to leave and let him stay in the flat. I just needed to get out and be with other people...You can say it, Ron. You told me so.”

Ron lets out a weak laugh, “I’m not gonna say that, (Y/N). I’m proud of you two though for leaving the relationship before it got ugly for the both of you.” You offer him a weak smile.  

You felt awkward standing there, luggage in the doorway, tear stained cheeks at the Burrow rather than going to your own home. You just knew you needed the comfort of your friends before going back to living with your parents after moving out. 

Before you knew it, Molly Weasley was in front of you. “Oh, poor girl. Come with me. Let me make you some tea. Ron, grab (Y/N) a blanket. Ginny, dear, go get the sandwiches from the fridge. We’ll get some good food in you, yeah?” she wraps an arm around you, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 

In this moment, you felt your anxiety melt away and the sensation of comfort and warmth flooded your chest. The Weasleys always knew how to cheer you up. You knew just a few hours with the Weasleys would help soothe you and your broken heart. 

As you sit at the table with Ron and Hermione, you sip on a hot tea Molly made you and ham and cheese sandwiches. The three of you all made light chatter about what they’ve been up to during the past month. Ron and Hermione talk about how much more time they’ve been spending together and how they were thinking about moving into their own place. As they cuddled close in the chair, your heart warmed seeing your two best friends find love with each other. They both deserved every happiness in the world. But in all honesty, their love made you feel a sad and just reminded you of how painful this breakup was. 

Hermione notices your change in expression and she gives you a sad smile. “(Y/N),” she looks at you and then at Rod who takes a breath in. “Ron told me about...the night you spent here before you got back with Draco. About the kiss.” Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak. “There’s no need to explain yourself. Ron told me everything and I although it hurt at first, I understand your position. I’m not mad at you. I just want you to know that I’m not worried or angry.”

“’Mione,” you speak. “I’m still so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

She shakes her head. “Thank you and I understand. But I think it’s best for all of us to just move on.”

You nod and sip your tea as an awkward air lingers. Hermione breaks the silence again and says, “Besides that, just know that we are here for you, always. You’re our best friend. We’ll be here every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” you offer them both a smile.

“There’s a muggle saying,” Hermione speaks. “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.”

You giver her a small smile. “Thanks, ‘Mione.”

And she was right. Maybe this wasn’t perfect timing with Draco. Maybe you two weren’t ready to start a relationship again. Maybe you needed more time. Or maybe you two weren’t meant to be. But whatever happened you knew you had you friends and family to help you along the way.

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

Six months had passed since the breakup and you had to admit that you were feeling so much better. You were living at home again with your parents, but working as an Auror now, making your own money and doing what you love alongside Ron. You had accepted your relationship with Draco and decided it was best to give him space. Even though the first few months were rough without him, you made it through better than ever.

So there you sat in St. Mungo’s, waiting for a Healer after hurting yourself on the job. It was a funny feeling being in the same hospital as you were seven and a half months ago after your head injury. You sat in the room, as the Healer’s assistant tells you, “The Healer should be in with you soon.”

You patiently wait around for the Healer, swinging your legs on the hospital chair until the door swings open. “Hello there, my name is Healer Malfoy, what seems to be the,” his eyes land on you, “problem.”

In front of you stood Draco, dressed neatly in black trousers, a button down, and tie with lime green robes on, the Healer crest neatly sewn on his chest. His hair was combed back and he had a little scruff on his face. He looked handsome. Grown up. “Draco,” you smile.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he smiles back brightly. “Um, lovely to see you again. It’s been a long time.” You nod, “Yeah, I know. I-I didn’t know you became a healer.”

He smiles wide, “Yeah. I started working here about five months ago. It’s been great so far. I really love the job.” You smile wide, knowing that Draco did it. He had wanted to be a Healer for so long and now he was finally doing it. You were so proud of him. The two of you just look at each other for a few moments, taking in the other, realizing how long it has been and how much you missed the other. “Um, anyway, what can I help you with?”

“Yeah, um, I hurt my ankle running. I think I just twisted it,” you pull up your jeans to show him.

Draco grabs a stool and inspects, pressing on your ankle to see if there was any excess pain, swelling, or bruising. Although it was quite quick, you smiled watching him do his job. You could tell he loved his job more than anything.

“Here’s some pain potion. I’ll also tell the assistant to bring you out some more to help with the swelling and bruising,” Draco tells you as you thank him. “Well, it was really nice to see you, (Y/N). It’s...being a while...”

You sigh, “It was nice to see you too, Dray...” 

The two of you look at each other, longingly gazing at the other, so badly wanted to embrace the other. “I miss you,” Draco confesses.

“I miss you,” you repeat back. Draco gives you a sad smile. The two of you look at each other more, not saying anything else. What was there to say? You clear your throat, “I should go.”

Draco stops you, “Wait, (Y/N).” You turn around and see Draco nervously put his hands in his pockets. “I, um...would you...would you like to get dinner with me...sometime?” You bit down on your lip to conceal your smile. “If not, that’s fine, I understand. I just, um, thought I’d try...you look great.”

You lightly laugh and stop him, “I’d like to get dinner with you, Draco.”

“Great,” he beams. “Brilliant. I’ll be in touch then,” he blushes.

-------

TAGLIST: @thefandomplace​ @malfoysstilinski​ @thescarletknight2014​ @n3ssm0nique​ @itsbebeyyy​ @iraniq​ @pettyluxury​ @beiahadid​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @dracoswifeyy​ @gsvshsjsbs @bogikrmn​

[bunsofhoney]

Parker Photography, part 5

Now live on A03!

"Ok, we need a different angle here. What's the human side of Deadpool?"

"Hmm. Well, you could add that I love puppies. And sometimes I lipsync to Brittany Spears in my living room."

"No, that's never going to work. What about…your powers. Can we get into those?"

"Well, I'm incredibly strong, incredibly fast, a nimble martial artist, incredibly handsome, and I can't seem to die, despite giving it my best go. Oh, and incredibly humble as well."

"Hard to capture most of those in a picture though. What makes you feel vulnerable?"

"Hmm. Oh! All Dogs Go to Heaven! That is a tear-jerker. I guess also, being without my weapons."

"That's it!" Peter snapped. "Can you take off your weapon harness? And maybe your shirt too? We'll get a few pictures of you looking out over the river. Maybe in tasteful black and white."

Deadpool hesitated, looking a little sheepish, which surprised Peter. "If you want me to, I will. But don't blame me if you puke. And you might not get any good shots out of it." He unbuckled his holster and stripped his shirt off.

Wade's skin was boiling with scars and sores, criss crossed and pock marked, some of the lines straight and some fluid, like water. The skin looked soft and shiny in shades of pink, peach, and light red. The sores glistened slightly, reflecting the late afternoon sun.

"See, told you. Nothing good here. You'll make Manhattan hurl."

"Don't worry about it. I can just shoot a ton and edit them down later. Try sitting on the edge of that wall."

Peter crouched behind Deadpool, capturing him in profile over his shoulder, the river running behind him with a setting sun in the background. Deadpool's intricate skin and masked head framed the picture, adding rich texture and intrigue that Peter was sure he could bring out in editing.

"... Beautiful," muttered Peter to himself.

Thanks @babyblankyerror for the prompt!

[devilatmydoor]

📝 from the 💙 prompt list, fluff #14 (the one with the lockscreen) and Luke please 🥺

Hi bub, I hope you like it!! 

“Am I your lockscreen?” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

___________

Your relationship with Luke wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, you both clicked instantly after meeting at a party. You didn’t even want to go to the party yet you went and you met Luke, you haven’t regretting going to that party since. Meeting Luke changed your life in all of the best ways, he loved hanging out with you and you wanted to hang out with him more than anyone you’ve met. You were the first person Luke met in a long time that didn’t care about money or fame, you solely cared for Luke and his wellbeing. You both wanted the best for each  other, staying happy and healthy was important and you both checked in with each other. 

Whenever the two of you hung out the world stopped around you, you only focused on him and his focus was solely on you. There were countless times people attempted to hang out with the two of you and realized it was pointless- you both neglected the other person and focused on one another. A magnetic force kept you two attached at the hip, it was heightened at parties and dinners you went to. Nobody bothered to separate the two of you or attempt to, they knew what would happen. Either you’d fight it or find your way back to each other. Tour was your mortal enemy in every sense of the word nevertheless you and Luke were away from each other for months. You longed to be reunited again every time; he texted you every day with updates and would call at night when he couldn’t sleep which was more often than not. 

The only thing that kept you going was his phone calls and a selfie of the two of you saved as your lockscreen. Whenever you were missing him or wishing he was there you would glance at it and immediately smile. You couldn’t help it if you tried, he meant everything to you and more. You only wish you knew if he felt the same about you, oh how cliché it was to be longing after your best friend but he was more to you than your best friend. He was the one person who could make you smile when you didn’t want to and he was the only person to get you to go to parties. You missed your late night trips to 7/11 and getting slushies, staying up late to talk about everything and nothing, you missed everything you two did together. You missed him. 

After weeks on end of falling asleep on facetime and waking up to texts from him, his return home was coming up sooner than you realized.  

When he texted you letting you know he was home, you immediately drove over to his place to see him. You texted him after parking in front of his house before getting out of your car. You walked up to his front door and it swung open, your eyes meeting his causing you to run towards him while he opened his arms for you. He hugged you tightly as his head nuzzled in your neck while you wrapped your arm around his neck- the both of you holding eachother as close as you could for as long as you could before pulling away slowly so you could go inside. “I can’t even explain how happy I am to see you.” 

“You don’t have to, I feel the same way Lu.” You smiled as you took off your shoes before getting any further. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked softly as he led you into the kitchen. 

“Your not going to cook are you?” You teased with a wink as you set your car keys on the island. 

“Hell no, I was gonna order food.” He insisted as he walked with you to his living room, everything looked the same from when you saw it last. 

“Good, I can order too if you want.” You offered getting your phone out of your pocked before you sat on the couch. 

“That’s probably a better idea since my phone is about to die.” You both giggled as he walked to plug in his phone. 

You opened your DoorDash app and found a restaurant that had the quickest deliver,  you ordered food for the both of you without even bothering to ask what he wanted. You knew exactly what he would and wouldn’t eat, you paid for the food without his knowledge and as his body turned to face yours, “What are you ordering?” 

“You mean what did I order?” You answered his question with another as you locked your phone and set it in your lap. 

“Did you pay for the food already?” He asked, you nodded in agreement as he grabbed your phone to see for himself. His cheeks turned pink as his eyes widened, “Am I your lockscreen?”

You attempted to swallow the growing lump in your throat as you grabbed your phone from his grasp, “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 

“But I did, are you going to tell me why a picture of you and I is your lockscreen?” 

“Is it really that important Luke? Does it matter?” You asked softly as you watched his reaction, he stood up from the couch and walked over to where his phone was charging. You stood up to see what he was doing. 

“It matters to me because,” He showed you his lockscreen and to your complete surprise, it was a picture of the two of you. You didn’t remember it being taken but you knew when it was taken, it was the night before he left for his last tour. “Your my lockscreen too. Your always my lockscreen when I’m away on tour. I look at my phone to remind me that your there for me and everything is okay. Whenever I’m missing you I look at it and remind myself that I have you.” 

You didn’t know how to react to his late night confession or how to feel about it but you had to do something, you walked up to him as he set his phone back to where it was so he could hold your face in your hands, “I love you.” 

“Luke you know I love you.” You smiled resting your hands on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat faster by the second. 

“No I don’t think you get it, I’m in love with you. I always have, ever since I met you at that party. I love the way you make me smile especially on days I don’t feel like it, I love when we go on late night car rides and gas station trips. I love when you laugh at my stupid jokes”- 

You cut him off by capturing his soft silky lips in a fleeting kiss as he smiled bigger than you’ve ever seen before, “I’m in love with you. I love the sound of your laugh, the way you look at me and how you make me feel like the most important person in your life. I love the way you hug me, I love everything about you Luke.” 

His lips met yours in a passionate kiss as his thumbs caressed your face as you gripped his shirt while you slowly kissed him, savoring every second of what you had been dreaming about for what felt like centuries. He pulled away breathing on your lips, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“I think I have an idea.” You smiled pressing your forehead against his.

taglist - @twilightmomentswithyou @lukeysdimples @honeybunchcalum @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Shikaku x Reader 18+

Title: Kiss it Better

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 3830

Warnings/tags: barebacking, begging, older man/younger woman

♥♥♥♥

Shikaku’s body was a menagerie of scars. Some so old that you could just barely make out the pale, jagged pink lines cutting across his skin. Others more recent and darker. They were a stark contrast against his warm complexion, drawing your gaze and making the others seem less noticeable by comparison. You were struck by the sheer number of them; how every inch of his body appeared to be marred with some physical reminder or another of hard won battles just as much as narrow escapes. There were almost too many to count. Surprisingly, though, they did not detract from his undeniable good looks. If anything, they only added to the pretty picture he painted sprawled out underneath you. 

Reverentially, you traced the path of what looked to have been a particularly gruesome wound with your fingertip. It was probably a miracle he hadn’t been eviscerated. You wondered how he’d ever survived - not only this attack but all of them combined. Just how many battles had he fought and walked away from? You weren’t so sure you wanted to know the answer to that question. 

It’s not as if you could have ever given voice to your curiosity anyway. It wasn’t your place to pry and he was already watching you with a steady interest that made you feel decidedly put on the spot. Like a stagelight had been trained on you and you alone; effectively highlighting your role as the instigator in all this. 

He seemed perfectly at ease playing the observer, your audience of one. Content to let you peruse his body at your own leisure. Those sharp, pinpoint eyes that never seemed to miss even the smallest of details tracked the motion of your hand whenever you’d reach out to touch a new scar before flicking back up to your face again, silently gauging your reaction to each one. You weren’t sure what exactly your expression was conveying in that moment but Shikaku drank it all in with unwavering complacency. If he was offended by your keen scrutinization of his scars, he certainly didn’t show it. 

Drawing your gaze lower, you followed the lean line of his stomach until he disappeared underneath you. The meat of your thighs seemed especially soft and pliable where they were bracketing his narrow hips, bulging around and molding to the firm shape of him. He was lithe and hard despite his age. Despite his role as Jounin commander which consisted almost entirely of desk work. He must have taken the time to keep up on his own training over the years and with some frequency, and it showed. 

You couldn’t help noticing that there were signs of past altercations even this far down on his body, much too below the belt to have been anything but a cheap shot. Who was petty and malicious enough to hurt someone here? A tinge of ire sparked through you as the pad of your finger circled the pock mark blemish that was just shy of his hip bone. It must have hurt like hell getting injured so close to the groin. 

Shikaku drew a quiet inhale then and your head came up. Worry that you’d overstepped some unspoken boundary or touched on a nerve that still ached even after the flesh had long since mended itself flooded your thoughts in a sudden rush. You started to issue a hasty apology but, to your surprise, he didn’t look in any way put out. If anything, the crooked smile playing at his mouth only seemed to suggest amusement and the words died in your throat when he brought his hand up to poke at the pale indentation too.

“Shuriken.” He said, finally breaking the silence. “Friendly fire.” 

Your brows lifted. “Really?” 

Nodding, Shikaku abandoned the pale scar tissue in favor of squeezing your thigh. His palm was rough with thick calluses - yet more proof of his consistent training efforts - and wide enough to give the impression that even the plumpest part of your leg was a mere handful for him. It made you feel small and delicate by way of contrast, like something fragile under his touch, and you shuddered on top of him.

Your reaction did not escape his notice, the curve of his mouth taking on a more sly, knowing edge as he turned his head against the pillow to look at you from a different angle and size you up. “Back when I was still in the academy.” He explained. “Gods, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Just an accident during shuriken throwing practice though. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over.” 

“I wasn’t worrying.” You insisted but you could tell he didn’t buy it. Huffing, you slouched forward and splayed your hands across his chest to cover the dense cluster of crisscrossed lines littering his sternum. “You just have so many ...”

“Do they make you uncomfortable?”

You thought about that for a moment. “No. They make me sad.” 

Shikaku pinned you with a wry look of humor. “Whatever for? I’m alive, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, but I don’t like to think about you getting hurt.”

A warm, rumbling chuckle vibrated up through his chest to set your guts on fire, making your loins twist and curl in on themselves. You drew a steadying breath as your fingers flexed and the nails sunk into the smooth meat of his pecs. There was more give than you’d expected. It was the only indication you’d yet found that his hard earned muscle mass, as slight as it was, had begun to deteriorate with the passing of time. You wondered if anyone else had noticed yet. Then, in the same breath, you wondered why that knowledge excited you so much.

“Aren’t you sweet.” He murmured, distracting you from those thoughts when he palmed your rib cage between his hands. A gentle tug was all it took for him to drag you further up his body until you were perched on his stomach rather than his hips. The casual display of strength had your pussy fluttering in eager anticipation, clenching around little more than your own slick as Shikaku threaded his fingers through your hair and pulled you down into a kiss.

His lips were firm but soft against yours, molding to your mouth in a way that seemed to suggest you two had been made to perfectly fit one another. Leaning further into him, you sighed through your nose and kissed him back. You wanted to stay with Shikaku just like this forever. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be than tangled up in bed with him. But, as all things must eventually come to an end, that brief exchange ended long before you were ready for it to.

“When you make that face, I feel like I should apologize.” He said against your mouth. 

“What face?” You whispered. 

“The one you’re making right now.” Shikaku kissed you again; a slow, lingering peck that inspired a shudder down your spine. Eyes that were such a dark shade of brown they looked black - true black - gleamed playfully at you from just a scant few millimeters away while he studied your expression. Taking in your every shallow breath, every minute muscle twitch, and neatly filing it away for later. “I just can’t stand to see you looking so sad because of me. I don’t think ‘sorry’ would actually make you feel any better though.” 

You gave your head a small shake, allowing him to cup your face in the cradle of his palms. He was so gentle with you. Tender despite the calluses digging abrasively into your skin. You hadn’t thought a man like Shikaku actually existed until you’d found yourself working under him and subsequently, perhaps even inevitably, writhing under him in blissful ecstasy only a few short months later. It was almost too good to be true. A dream you never wanted to wake from. 

“I don’t want your apologies.” You told him quietly. 

“What would you have of me then?” 

That was a question you didn’t have to stop and think about. 

“You. I only want you.” 

Leaning up, you pecked at his mouth and then his chin. The coarse hair of his beard tickled slightly as you trailed butterfly kisses along the curve of his jaw and cheek until you could press your lips to the scar slashing across the side of his face. You lingered there for a moment. Feeling the heat of him seeping through his skin and into you before pulling back just enough to speak. “If I could, I would kiss away all your scars. You look very handsome with them. Distinguished. But I wish you’d never gotten hurt in the first place.” 

Shikaku turned his head and nuzzled into your hair, making the tip of his nose brush the outer shell of your ear. “That’s what it means to be a shinobi. You get hurt and learn from your mistakes.” 

“You’ve made this many?” You asked

“And then some.” 

A faint, masculine grunt later, you abruptly found yourself flipped over onto your back. The sudden rush of movement happened too fast for you to comprehend what was happening until you hit the futon with a half stifled gasp. Your eyes widened up at Shikaku as he moved over top of you, sinewy muscles under his skin dancing in a delightful display of subdued strength. With one elbow braced against the mattress, he brought his other hand down to slip under your thigh, grabbing a tight fistfull of doughy soft flesh and hiking your leg up into the air. The faltering groan that tumbled off your tongue sounded needy even to your own ears and you grabbed onto his shoulders with fingers poised like talons. 

Shikaku’s mouth curled into a mischievous little smirk, never missing a beat as he settled between your hips. His pelvis slotted to yours seamlessly, almost like you were two pieces of the same puzzle. The unmistakable nudge of his stiff cock at your pussy lips had you arching against him and trying to curl your captured leg around his ribs; writhing in anticipation as much as you were basking in the immovable force he presented above you. 

He pressed himself flush to you then and your breasts squished against his chest. The sweat slick friction to your nipples sent livewire sparks shooting throughout your body, setting every nerve ending to vibrate. You drew a haggard breath, mewling softly when he bent your leg higher and hooked your ankle over his shoulder. Effectively locking you into place. 

Helpless, all you could do was flex your toes while Shikaku took his time slowly angling his hips back and forth, teasing you with the hard weight between his legs. Gliding it along the puffy slit of your labia and coaxing yet more arousal out of your gushing cunt. Prodding your clit with the ridged glans on every smooth, drawn out stroke. It was maddening and wonderful at the same time. You could feel every bump and vein on the underside of his cock as it drug against you, feel it twitching with the need to sink balls deep into your body. Pulsing with red hot desire. It was enough to drive you wild and you whined softly in the back of your throat.

“Shikaku … please ...”

He groaned encouragingly in response. “Please, what? Use your words, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes against the deep rumble of his voice, so gentle and soft despite the gruff note in his inflection. That alone would have been enough to send you over the edge if you’d allowed it. You could’ve listened to Shikaku speak for hours on end. This wasn’t how you wanted to find your release though and you squirmed, lifting your other leg to throw it over the small of his back and draw him closer. Trying to make him slip inside you.

It was no good though. Shikaku was as stubborn as a mule when he put his mind to it and there likely wasn’t a person alive who could force him to do something he didn’t want. He merely issued another low, carnal chuckle that made your pussy flutter and spasm, grinding his cock against you with more concentrated thrusts. Slipping and sliding through your drenched folds as if he were well and truly fucking you now. 

You were entirely at his mercy, so wet for him that it bordered on obscene, and you shook as you threw your head back against the pillows with a half choked sob. “Please! I want you to take me … I need it ...” 

“Is that so?” Humming his approval, Shikaku dipped his face down and kissed the tender column of your throat. His beard scratched and tickled, leaving a burning trail in its wake as he worked his way over the line of your jaw and higher still until he could capture your lips again. This exchange was far more heated than the last, more demanding, and you keened into his mouth when the head of his cock bumped your clit with growing insistence. 

Trembling, you tore your mouth from his and gasped. “Don’t make me cum like this! I want to feel you inside of me! Please, Shikaku! Please cum inside me!”

He groaned, tense and halting as a shudder rippled down his spine. You could feel every inch of him rolling with it, not unlike the motion of a cresting wave, and your breath hitched as he adjusted the position of your leg over his shoulder. Shikaku shimmied a little lower then and leaned into you with his weight. His cock found your entrance through muscle memory alone, or perhaps instinct, and you tried to arch against him, eager for the sear of penetration. He had you so thoroughly pinned that it was no use though. Your only available option was to cling to him all the more desperately while he impaled you straight down the middle one excruciating fraction at a time. Forcing you to comprehend each inch of him that entered you in daunting slow motion. 

You seethed. He had you wound so tight that you weren’t sure how much more of this teasing you could stand. The ache inside you only seemed to double down and grow more intense the further he sunk into your contracting passage, stretching you wide around his girth. It felt good. So good it almost hurt and tears of pleasure welled up along your lash line, blurring your view of Shikaku’s marred face. You tried to blink them away to no avail. He made you feel whole and complete; filling you up and taking you just shy of the breaking point. Reaching deep inside and touching parts of you that no other man had ever even come close to brushing against. It was overwhelming in the best possible way and you sucked in a ragged breath as his hand came up to cradle the side of your face, shaking. 

“There you go looking sad again.” He murmured, settling against you at long last with an accompanying grunt and a wet squelch. 

“I - I’m not …”

“I know, baby. I know. Shh.” Leaning close, Shikaku kissed the corner of your trembling lips. Those dark, dark irises studied you up close - taking in the flutter of your lashes, the moisture wetting your eyes, the way your brows furrowed and jumped in wonderful agony. You were sure he could see all of you in that moment, right down to your very soul. “You’re still so sensitive even after all this time. What am I ever going to do with you? Hm?”

A hiccuping moan was your only forthcoming response. You couldn’t seem to get your mouth to cooperate but that didn’t appear to bother him and you were grateful for that.

Smiling faintly, Shikaku backed off just enough to push up onto his elbow. His body, beautiful in its imperfection, flexed and roiled above you. The weight of his cock gradually retreated until you were sure he’d slip right out of you before surging forward again on a single, powerful thrust. You jerked at the intense pleasure that spiderwebbed through you, gasping and groaning. Your pussy flexed, squeezing around him in gooey palpitations that made his breath come a little harder. A little faster. 

His mouth fell open with a barely audible groan, his expression pinched while he watched your face twist up in ecstasy. It looked like he was holding himself back. There was a bead of sweat forming on his brow, right above the scar gouged into his temple and you lifted a trembling hand to wipe it away. Shikaku readily leaned into the warmth of your palm, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. 

They opened again when he angled his hips back and locked onto yours as he drove into you on another powerful thrust. He didn’t pause to let you adjust this time; quickly taking on a steady rhythm of long strokes and sharp, pointed jabs that had you seeing stars. It felt like he was punching the air right out of your lungs and your breathless cries rapidly rose to join the deafening noise of skin clapping against skin. The humiliating schlucking sound of your cunt sucking him in deep on every downward lunge seemed loud between your bodies and only added to the lewd cacophony filling the space between you two. It echoed inside your head and seemed to heighten your arousal that much more, sending you barreling blindly towards the edge of oblivion. It was as if he intuitively knew how to hit that spot inside you at just the perfect angle and, as usual, you were powerless to stop it even if you’d wanted to.

“Shi - Shikaku!”

The breath puffing out of him grew more labored, straining against the exertion. “Go on, baby. Let it go. I’ve got you.” 

You screwed your eyes shut and curled into him, holding on for dear life as the pressure in your loins rapidly mounted and threatened to suffocate you. Nails digging into long damaged flesh. The tension weighing heavy on all your muscles. Your leg quaking uncontrollably where it was stretched right to the edge of real discomfort over his shoulder. The delicious burn of his cock carving out a space within you one relentless thrust at a time. His sweat damp hips driving into the backs of your thighs with loud, wet smacks. The smell of him, intoxicating and woodsy. It was too much. You could feel the heat of your orgasm bubbling over, reaching critical mass, and your hands flew up to cover your face as you shrieked in delight. 

“Let me see you, sweetheart.” Shikaku’s voice rumbled above you. “Don’t hide from me.”

His long fingers curled around your wrist in the next moment, gentle and coaxing. You let him tug that hand away from your flushed cheek, watching as if through a daze when he pressed your knuckles to his chest, but the other slipped back to tangle in your own hair. You could feel his heart pounding out an erratic rhythm against his ribs and he was looking at you like you were the only woman he’d ever known. Like you were the only one that mattered. Your stomach flipped over itself and, just like that, the coil snapped.

Arching so hard that you caught a sharp pop in your lower back, you threw your head against the pillows and wailed. The fingers in your hair clenched, desperate for something to hold onto while you shook with the force of your release. But the tug to your scalp only seemed to highlight the intense bursts of pleasure radiating from your cunt, making you cry out with more fervor. 

As you shattered around him, Shikaku slowed to a standstill. Panting and tense with the effort of holding his own release at bay but content to let you ride out the waves of pleasure on his cock. He stayed lodged deep inside your pulpy cunt, just watching you writhe on him and shuddering each time your contracting walls spasmed and squeezed like a vice grip. All the while, you twisted and lurched, realizing in a far off, dreamy sort of way what he was doing but you were too far gone to care. It wasn’t nearly enough to dampen the sharp twangs of ecstasy cascading over your heaving body and you groaned dazedly when you started to come down from the high some moments later. 

It took even longer to find your voice and when you finally tried to speak, your voice was thick with the lingering traces of your ograsm. “You never cum when I do …” 

A short, breathless laugh rang out through the statically charged air. “I like to make sure you’re satisfied first, that’s all. Is that so wrong?”

You turned your head to regard the far wall, feigning a pout. “Am I one of them?” 

“One of what?” He sounded mildly perplexed now and you couldn’t really blame him for not knowing what you were talking about. You felt silly even bringing it up again but you had to know. For your own peace of mind.  

“One of your mistakes.”

Carefully taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Shikaku manually turned you back around to look at him. The fond look of exasperation you found peering down at you wasn’t what you’d been expecting - especially not when he was still flushed and sticky from having sex - but it made your heart skip a beat anyway. He was everything you could have ever hoped for and then some.

“You know you’re not. What a silly thing to say.” He muttered, craning his neck down to kiss you again in a lazy, lingering exchange that was as possessive as it was comforting. His lips curled against yours when you enthusiastically returned the gesture, leaning up to meet him, but he was quick to pull back and pin you with a knowing little smirk. “If you don’t think I’m paying you enough attention, all you had to do was say so. We can fix that right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You said, trying and failing to wipe the grin off your face.

“Even so,” His expression took on an almost boyish, mischievous edge as he grabbed onto your other ankle and hefted that one up over his shoulder too, effectively bending you in half like a pretzel. “How about we rectify it anyway?”

Your heart thumped wildly inside your chest when the change in position made him feel that much bigger inside you. The glans pressed tight into your spongy inner wall, sending fresh waves of exquisite pressure shooting throughout the sensitized nerves, and you groaned. This was certainly going to be another long, sleepless night and you couldn’t have been any happier about that prospect. 

“Please, Shikaku. Please pay attention to me.” You gasped.

“As you wish, princess.”

♥♥♥♥

Link to fic on AO3: Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069682

[berryshiara]

Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi Chapter 1 Unexpected Things

AO3 Link How best to approach a problem? And by the Goddess... What to wear? Fen makes good on her promise to visit Vanguard XPress in Kari's behalf... Our story continues... Sleep… when she awoke despite the interruptions by Kari, Fen felt good… really good. With a sigh she stretched leisurely and sighed, there was something cathartic about making her home a better place.

During the stretch she found a companion in bed with her. Ludis…

“Hey…” She said rolling towards them and pushing on broad shoulders. “What do you think you are doing in my bed?”

A paw came up on the far side as Ludis rolled on their back towards her, pushing with one paw on the bed, offering the other in a submissive gesture.

“Don’t you play nice with me buster.” She half heartedly grumbled when they rolled over and pushed their face against her, giving Fen a light buzz. The buzz grew in intensity as they expressed their excitement for her to finally be awake.

“Wah!” She pulled her face away with a frown, pushing the over exuberant hulk back with both hands. “Stop, stop it… Goddess.” She grumbled but just as quickly sighed when her Fenris thumped down on the bed beside her, resting the curve of it’s big face on her shoulder.

Fen stared at Ludis only briefly. “You really should not be up here.” Rolling towards her captured arm she wrapped the free one around Ludis and let her body rest against theirs, cheek pressed against a warm shoulder. “I’m in too good of a mood to be upset.” She admitted with a deep sigh. Ludis lay there seemingly content in Fen’s embrace, their mechanical legs stilling on the bed, the red glow of their face softening. She sighed again pressing her brow to their short neck.

For a long moment they stayed that way, Ludis laying quietly as Fen held them… a learned behavior that Fen was grateful for. “Where were you when I was invaded this morning by a giant?” She asked, her fingers playing over the pocked marks on Ludis’ paws, time left its mark on all things…

Ludis remained unforthcoming to her question. With a tight squeeze to the barrel of their chest Fen unrolled and pushed the FENRIS mech just enough to free herself. She didn’t have the heart to bully it off the bed, something that wasn’t a worry any way. The moment Fen’s feet made the floor Ludis was up, in fact Ludis beat her to the door. Its face glowing intensely bright with excitement. As if to prove her belief in its anthropomorphic performance, Ludis did a little dance against the door, putting a paw on it then backing up and spinning in a circle before looking back at Fen expectantly.

“Okay, yes. I got it.” Reaching for her omnitool and slipping it on as she made for the door. When another paw came up to the door she barked discouragement at him. “NO!” Grumbling softly afterwards “Don’t do that” Already the door held marks of their passing, gouges where mechanical toes had scarred the cheap material. “I swear, between you and Kari I can’t keep a decent door.” She was still grumbling about it when they made it to the kitchen where the early morning meeting had been held. Her cup of cold coffee on the small table a reminder of promises made…

Pursing her lips she plucked it up, swirled it thoughtfully and then turned back to the bedroom. Ludis sat back on metallic haunches as she brushed past them again.

“What does one wear to impress a Batarian business man?” Fen asked her four legged friend as she took a long drink of the cold coffee and inspected the wardrobe objectively.

Honestly did she really care to impress him? Was she looking to beguile him into doing what she wanted? Did she wish to have him beholden to her? Or terrify him into compliance?

Setting the coffee down she let her fingers run through the choices, feeling the fabrics as she thought about what it was she wanted to accomplish in this meeting?

“No… no…” Blue fingers paused, slipping against silk that drew a smile, pulling the dress out she held it against her body as that smile grew. Fingers caressed the black silk, down her body to the short hem of the dress. Her mind jumping to that night in Afterlife, when a certain someone approached her with an almost unheard clearing of their throat. An uncertain request by an unsure maiden… Fen had almost dismissed her without even looking up, she remembered feeling annoyed that the hulk that stood in front of her blocked her view. That is until she focused on what the wall was… powerful thighs, leading to slender hips, strong abs, broad shoulders before finally meeting hesitant blue… eyes.

Her skin tingled as she thought about her friend, gorgeous, powerful… perfection.

Pressing her lips together Fen put that dress back with a shake of her head “I don’t want to ruin that memory.”

Giving the dress a final caress Fen sighed. Really what did she want to do to this Batarian besides make it clear that Jessa was her own person? But was she? Batarians were known to be slavers… did she have the information needed to approach this objectively?

Gold eyes shifted to the slim shoulder of that little black dress, awakening a shimmer of dancing fish in her chest and stomach. Honestly, when it came to Pallikári could she be objective at all?

##

Just as promised Foínix came to Vanguard XPress; who’s motto was Anything, Anywhere, for the right price. On Omega that really did mean anything… Like most businesses on this shithole it had two faces. That which provided a legitimate service - moving goods and messages, the second.. included bodies - living and dead, drugs of all kinds, … in hell, nothing was sacred.

Dressed in a black on black outfit pants suite she stepped through the front door with Ludis at her side.

Jess was at the front desk to welcome her, her smile warm and genuine.

“Can I help you?”

“Hello.” Foínix took up a comfortable pose on the desk leaning a little in towards Jess resting an arm on the low partition to one side. She took up a posture that both exposed herself and displayed it. With just the right tip of her jaw she greeted Fen’s, Jess.

Jess blinked at her, no doubt trying to figure out what about her body language was bothering her... and how best to politely decline; but her request was not for the woman at the desk, but rather to her Batarian boss. Like a peacock with extravagant plumage spread, Fen waited for him to take notice. That she was offering this display to the lowly front desk worker would make them respond to her silent offer all the quicker, after all… they were the master, anything offered in their establishment, belonged to them first. Batarians were fun like that… the wrong twitch meant the difference between insult and matrimony…

Jess blinked at her even as she leaned in, a confused look touched the humans eyes and ever so briefly her lips just before she returned the smile. “I’m good, and you?”

Though she was not there to test Kari’s human, it sort of worked out that way, and her response was heartening. A human who was not so easily enticed by another Asari meant that they were not doing it for the novelty.

“I am doing well, thank you.” A little impatient she gave a final silent request, shifting off the partition Fen leaned forward into Jess’s space.

As if reeled in, the back door opened… she gave a brief glance to Vath, assessing him and their safety. He carried himself strong, with exposed arms, and a form fitting top.

“What is it we can do for you?” He interrupted Jess, standing as a man in power to her right. His chest was puffed up, his head held high. He was strutting back, showing this was his domain, and that it was to him she should appeal. Not to his hired help.

Raising a brow she resisted the urge to cant her head the wrong way. Instead she gave an easy smile and lowered her chin in response. “Were I to guess, you were a man in charge. I was hoping to speak to you about a lucrative venture. There is many things I need moved… and I have little desire to do so myself. If I…”

He raised a hand as he moved from the front desk to the side gate, motioning her to come around. “Please, let us continue this discussion in my office.”

Giving a brief look to Jess she bowed her head ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

Fen wondered how much Jess dismissed in her job… but left it alone. She would be setting some clear boundaries soon enough for the Batarian business man.

"Wait..." He held his hand up when he caught sight of her FENRIS.

"Ludis, sit." Pointing to a spot just outside the gate. Her mech came to that exact point and looking up at her, plunked its haunches right on it. "Stay." She rubbed the rim of his head and let him buzz the back of her hand as she rubbed the back of her fingers against his face.

Looking up she gave a look to the Batarian before he dropped his arm and then led the way to his office.

##

Vath’s office was surprisingly… perfect.

It’s presentation was so well done that it left very little to imagination... There was a picture frame on his desk, its contents rotating through several captured memories, most of them very proud men showing their overly large guns, and the poor animals they had hunted to death.

A few personal items, not one of which had anything to do with his big game hunting. That actually surprised her. There were no stuffed animals or pieces of them mounted as trophies. . . His desk was tidy but showed a functioning work space rather than a picture perfect one. The furniture was not ostentatious, nor something that would have made clients uncomfortable.

The space was so maintained it felt like it belonged in a magazine.

Vath stepped into the room and turned sitting on the desk while motioning for her to take a seat.

While giving the illusion of being courteous he was taking a very dominant position, both by remaining in her space, and by keeping his head higher than hers. Honestly though, being a short woman, it was not hard to do.

Playing the game, Foínix took the offered seat.

“Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Or something stronger?” He motioned to the neat little set of decorative decanted alcoholic beverages sitting in an alcove.

“Thank you, no. I am not here to play a perfectly poised game. I want to make a deal that will benefit us both, but I have very specific conditions that must be met before we can get down to making money.”

The Batarian shifted, his body expressing reservation, and a little curiosity.

“I thought about ways I could get what I want. Beguiling you does not appeal to me, nor does appealing to your vanity, which I would quickly find exhausting. I also thought about terrifying you to get what I want, but I feel that is a shallow one time trick that will do little good unless I am truly willing to kill you and replace you.” She looked at him as she revealed all this. A quirk to her lips when he stiffened. She made a soothing gesture. “I was merely covering my options. I have no intention on following on any of the aforementioned ideas. While you are not the best of men, you are what Father calls a necessary evil… Having covered all that, I come to but one option, I want you to give me what I want, so that you can make lots of money doing what I want you to do.”

To his credit Vath remained perched on the desk, studying her. Thick lips pursed as he chewed on her words. Like his room he was very careful in studying the case presented to him, before he laughed and then stood up to circle around the desk, plopping into his chair he leaned forward, elbows on the desktop.

Fen had a feeling she would have lost a week’s worth of credits if she had made the bet that this was not Vath’s true office.

“Well, you have my attention. Tell me what these conditions are so we can get to the good bits!”

“I want to know if you actually own papers on Jessa Pell, and if you do, I want you to tear them up.”

“Pell…” His brow furrowed, all four of his eyes narrowing as he struck a haughty pose. Slave ownership was a touchy subject with the Hegemony, most Batarians felt it was their ancestral right to own, buy and sell others as a commodity. “Why Pell specifically? I have slips on nearly all my workers.”

“I have a vested interest… I am not here to say you have to give up your slaving ways, but I do need Jessa to be released from any contracts you may have on her… and I need her to be free in every way imaginable.”

“Ok, those are the conditions, what is the business opportunity I was promised that would be worth this… investment.” He sat back stroking the coarse hairs on his chin.

“I have lots of merch that I have no need for. I sell it to you at a considerable discount, and you take whatever profit there is to be made.”

“What merch.”

Fen raised her omnitool leaning forward so that she could share the information with Vath.

Looking over the list for a few minutes, he grunted. “How often do you get these… shipments.”

“When I do you will be the first to know.”

“Payment?”

“Thirty percent.”

“Twenty.” He countered, his eyes narrowing.

She shifted. “Twenty eight.”

“Twenty five.” He came back quickly, a playful smile touching thick lips.

Fen pretended to think about the number before speaking. “And Jessa’s papers.”

“Deal.”

“You will add a note to your personal file after you send me all you have on Ms. Pell.” Opening the screen up on her omni-tool Fen flicked a file in his direction.

Vath grunted, his brows drawing tight before one set of eyes raised to look at her over his device. “Is this a threat?”

Fen stood up and straightened her bodice. “To a successful & wiley business man such as yourself, it is a friendly reminder. Who owns Jessa Pell now?” She asked.

After a moment of silence and moving of documents between their devices he gave nod to her. “You do.” Standing he leaned forward on his desk, hands placed flat, neck extended jaw at a sassy jaunt as he wore a toothy grin. “And before you destroy those documents, I would gladly tell you why you should keep them… over drinks and dinner.”

Fen looked up from her omni-tool to see the offer he gave her, surprise touching her face before she could hide it.

@maskydoolovesmasseffect @maskydoo-main id like to thank masky for their kind encouragement, and what seems unending generosity. Thanks~

[laufire]

3, 17, 19

Do you prefer canonverse or AUs? 

Canonverse all the way. Specifically canon-divergence AUs, they’re my niche area, for both reading and writing (post-canon stories too, in some cases, where the ending still feels ~full of possibilities~ lol).

I can enjoy a good AU, especially if it’s a cleverly done fusions where the writer manages to adapt the characters in a new setting in a way that feels GENIUS --which is something I hope to inspire in my readers someday lol--; but at the end of the day, if I feel that “itch” to seek out fic, it’s because I want more of canon, because I’m interested in the canonverse itself.

And of course, it depends on the types of AU. I tend to abhor Modern AUs, No Powers AU, Soulmate AUs... among a few others xD. I’m more into fusion AUs, like I said (I’m especially into the idea of weird sci-fi fusions and I wish we saw more of them, instead of your four or five most typical AUs over and over --Pacific Rim etc. Yes, I wrote a PR fusion once myself, but that was different, shh xDD).

Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

I mentioned the only one that’s solely in the ideas stage here (it’s Silverdoon h/c and bound to be canon-compliant...).

The previous one only has a few lines written down as to not forget them and the barest of premises. Somehow I didn’t make the connection yet because only now I reached the specific episode where it’s mentioned, but I think it was inspired by randomly rewatching Elementary episodes xD.

It is, ofc, a Black Sails WIP smh. Post-series. The premise if Silver using his Villain Reputation (no this is not me pocking fun at certain section of the fandom why do you ask xDD) for his own agenda, with the cliché of “you can’t touch my antagonists, they’re MINE, I decide what’s done to them” (so Moriarty with Joan and Sherlock = Silver with Flint and Madi lmao). Then obviously Flint and Madi are captured, somehow. I hadn’t joined all the dots yet, I just pictured the “they’re MINE” in my head and ran away with it lol.

What’s your favorite character headcanon?

One favourite headcanon narrows the search too much xD

Either way, I tend to be awful at thinking up headcanons unless is specifically for writing purposes --as in, in the exact moment I’m writing a fic. That’s when they come to me with ease lol.

There’s also the fact that I am adamant about some headcanons (i.e. my “Silver escaped a cult as a child” one xD), while others vary from fic to fic and I prefer to wipe the slate clean, so to speak (i.e. even if it’s not something I might explicitly put down in writing For Reasons -if it’s from someone else’s POV, he wouldn’t reveal them; if it’s from his own POV, even in his own head he’d avoid thinking directly about the matter), I alternate between imagining Silver as an only child or as having siblings, growing with only one parent or orphaned, etc. etc.).

I’ve also noticed that I’m often inspired by other canons without realizing it sometimes --like, my headcanons about Max’s mother are heavily influenced by Underground’s Ernestine, for example.

To go with a non-BS answer for once xD: it is canon that Murphy is a literature nerd (he’s casually quoted Shakespeare, referenced Moby Dick or LoTR... I find it lowkey hilarious because it’s clearly an impulse of giving him some classic intelligence --paired with his superior Street Smarts; they even have him randomly play chess against the villain this season lmfao. I find chess boring af but I’m here for how it’s been used to call Emori (for Murphy) or Indra (for the villain xD) Queens lol--, when in the pilot they had him misspell the word “die” xD. The soft-retcon is interesting for the Doylist changes it signals, IMO. Someone has explained it away as him listening to audiobooks --in prison, I imagine lol--, which I like), but personally I’ve always headcanoned he’d be a huge fan of heist movies.

[imaginepirates]

Kneel and Obey

We could all use a little Beckett in our lives, right? (Seriously, I need to write more of him.) For @itslordnowactually . Beckett manages to capture you, a pirate, and he wants your obedience. There's so much sexual tension you could cut it with a knife. Sex is implied at the end, but there aren't any actual scenes.

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands

~3400 words

~~~~~~~

           You strained against your bonds. The metal stung and ripped at your skin. You were sure there were already angry welts along your wrists, even if you couldn't see them. They were firmly secured behind you. 

           Pain told you to stop, but fear told you that things would only get worse. If you didn't escape confinement soon, you'd be turned over to the torturous hands of the EITC. You could only imagine what they'd do to you. 

           Beckett. That's who you'd have to survive, and you weren't sure you could. He was rumored to be ruthless and cruel, and he had no great love for pirates. Pictures of white-hot brands and broken bones filled your mind. 

           Finally, you gave up. Your wrists were raw. Your face was a splotchy mess of tears. Even if you did escape, you'd have nowhere to go. You were trapped on a naval ship, just waiting to be handed over to the EITC. There was nothing you could do. 

           When the feel of the ship changed under you, and when the soldiers finally came, you were prepared to put up one hell of a fight. It was your last chance. 

           You tried to run when they unshackled you from the wall of your cell. It was a good effort, but a futile one. You were in the arms of an officer before you'd taken three steps. Hands closed around your arms and torso, and you howled in pain as they put different shackles on your wrists. 

           You were half-dragged, half-wrestled between the two ships. You writhed in their grasp the whole way, causing quite the scene on both decks. Your proudest moment was when they had to walk you between ships. The slab of wood used for the task was narrow, and two men had to let go of you for fear of falling. 

           Once on the other ship, you knew you were doomed. You kicked and screamed your way down to the brig, only to be locked in another cell. It wasn't as bad as the last one, but it was still grimy. You just hoped there wouldn't be as many rats. 

           Footsteps echoed on the stairs shortly after your confinement. There was a wrestling of fabric, a clinking of keys, and a scraping of a door against the floorboards. 

           Standing before you was the most peculiar group. There was a nervous looking guard, accompanied by a man in all brown who looked wickedly unpleasant. His face was leathery and pocked with small scars. The third man was, surprisingly, just around your height. 

           He carried himself with such and air of smug confidence, you assumed he had to be Lord Beckett. He was certainly the best dressed. Everything about him oozed wealth and a sophisticated style. It made you want to vomit, which was high praise considering the smell of the room. 

           He studied you through the bars of your cell. "This one has a bite to her. We shall have to break her in." He smiled to himself, the gesture barely crossing his lips. It was most unpleasant. 

           The door to your cell swung open on creaky hinges and he stepped inside. He inspected you like an insect, disinterest plastered across his face. "I heard you've caused yourself injury," he drawled. 

           "And?" Your voice was hoarse from the screaming you'd done earlier in your struggle against the guards. 

           "We can't have that." He circled around to your back, bending over to inspect your wrists. 

           "Why not? Don't you like seeing your prisoners in pain?"

           "Heavens no. You might be a pirate, but you are also a woman. I'm not a monster." He motioned to a guard who unlocked your shackles. 

           You looked at your wrists. They were raw and ripped open, blood oozing down into your fingers. 

           Beckett stood just next to you, examining the damage with a disgusted grimace. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

           "How generous of you." Your voice dropped with sarcasm. 

           "It is." He stared you in the eye, gaze piercing. "You would do well to remember."

           You were escorted to a well-furnished room with all sorts of curiosities sitting about. There were two desks of a dark, solid wood. The chairs were plush and made with leather. Anyone who had enough money to furnish a ship so well had too much money, in your opinion. 

           Beckett poured himself a glass of brandy and looked questioningly at you. You nodded; you could certainly use a glass. 

           You stepped over to his desk to drink with him, though you did so warily. There were still guards in the room. They weren't close to you, but they were still a threat. 

           Beckett set down his glass. "Let me see your wrists," he instructed. You stuck them out, and he touched them lightly, seeing where they hurt most. He produced a bowl and set it under your arms. With one hand, he held them, making sure not to put any pressure on them, steadying them from the bottom. The other hand held the decanter of brandy, which he tipped over your skin. 

           You hissed and pulled your hands back, torn skin stinging. You wished you had some water to soak them in. Perhaps it would get rid of the current throbbing. 

           "I have to do this," said Beckett. "The alcohol will sterilize things so you don't get an infection. Unless, of course, you already have. I doubt you thought of that while pulling against your restraints." He sounded somewhat annoyed. 

           Admittedly, you hadn't, but you wouldn't tell him that. Besides, a little infection was worth a lifetime of freedom. Still, you stuck your arms back out, tensing in anticipation of the brandy. 

           He repeated his previous process, pouring the liquid over your wrists, having you turn them over, and doing it again. You could've cried, but you weren't about to let him see your tears. 

           After deeming your cuts cleansed, he grabbed bandages and attended to you himself. He did a neat job, and managed not to hurt you in the process. The gentle way with which his fingers moved surprised you. You wondered why he was doing this for you. 

           "I'd like you to have a little faith in me, at least. It will be easier for us both."

           You wondered how many people he said that to. 

           "Now," he began as if speaking to a child, "I'm going to send you back to the brig. I'd appreciate it if you didn't give yourself an infection. Try not to set your wrists against the ground."

           You internally rolled your eyes. He hardly had to explain it to you; it wasn't like you hadn't lived on a filthy ship before. 

           "I'd hate to have to cut the hands off such a pretty thing." 

           You weren't sure he was joking.

           "I'd like to think we can come to some sort of understanding. Our relationship will work better that way. For your sake, you should obey me."

           You made a face. It conveyed the message. 

           "I don't like hurting people. I just have to teach them their place. You'll have a much more pleasant stay aboard my ship if you learn yours. Teaching can be so… messy."

           "What a silver tongue you have," you spat. 

           "What would you do, bite it off?"

           You were surprised by his forwardness. To make such comments already; what a pig. Yet he wasn't looking at you suggestively. He wore a smirk, but he kept eye contact. It was unnerving. At this point, most men would have let their eyes wander. 

           You were taken back to your cell, left to sit alone in the darkness. You hoped Beckett wouldn't come calling again. He made you uncomfortable in a way you hadn't been before. 

           Beckett was posh, wealthy, and had a blatantly obvious superiority complex that made you sick. He wasn't afraid to show any of it off; you wondered why nobody had killed him yet. You had no doubt that other lords hated him. Assassination was always an option. 

           Beckett hadn't visited you again, even after multiple days had passed. Your bandages hadn't been changed, and you were beginning to fear the risk of infection. There were places where blood had seeped through, but they had turned brown. 

           A guard delivered your food. He was the only connection you had with the outside world. He didn't talk, but you knew the approximate times of day when he showed up. 

           You had developed a cough. It wasn't anything serious, you told yourself, but it was certainly annoying. It scratched the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow the stale bread given to you at mealtimes. You wondered if your guard had noticed. If he had, had he told anybody? 

           You made a list of all the things that frightened you most. First and foremost was being hung. That was an inevitability you'd have to face later. The second was developing a painful infection in your wrists. You were afraid to take off the bandages and check in case you really did have an infection. There would be nothing you could do about it, anyway. The third was dying of sickness. Your cough was bad enough that you'd considered asking for more water. 

           You pondered these fears as the door to your cell swung open. Your guard hauled you to your feet, dragging you out of the cell. 

           Were they so tired of feeding you that they were going to kill you right then? Did they have a noose strung up from on of the masts? You thought you had more time. You'd at least wanted a crowd to see that the government was stringing up little girls. 

           Instead, you were taken down the halls leading to Beckett's office and shoved inside. The man himself stared at you from a leather chair much too big for him. 

           The guard left. You were more scared without him; you hated the thought of being left alone with Beckett. 

           "I heard you were sick. I wish they would've told me sooner." He rose from his seat and gestured to a table with a tea tray on it. "Letting you fester in there was unnecessary suffering."

           The tray held more than the regular items used for tea. There was a small vial of something, hopefully medicine, to one side. There were bandages too, which filled you with both relief and apprehension. 

           You sat across from Beckett, nervously looking around the room. You didn't want to make eye contact. 

           "Let me," he said, and picked up one of your wrists. Carefully, he unwrapped the bandage. He cleaned you off with some water, and applied the new gauze. He did this with both hands before setting them back on the table. 

           There was no infection. The cuts were healing up fine on their own; you'd taken his advice and hadn't set your hands on the ground. 

           "Now, I have medication." He had such a soft voice for such a powerful man. "Perhaps you will allow me to give it to you."

           "I can take it myself, thank you."

           "Oh, but I would like to teach you obedience."

           You didn't like how he said it. It wasn't a threat; you wouldn't have been bothered if it was a threat. His eyes were dark with something that wasn't anger. You were all the more scared for it. 

           Lust. 

           Your stomach turned. If that was what the meeting was really about… you preferred not to think of it. 

           "Get on your knees." He said it so casually, but you blanched. 

           "I-I can take it while sitting, you know," you spluttered. 

           "Didn't I say I wanted obedience?"

           He was watching you with those eyes, and you deemed it best to play along. "Don't you know the position that would put me in? I'm not sure I'm ready for that." 

           He waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, we can do that later. However, I don't make it a practice to fuck sick girls."

           How he could possibly be so nonchalant about sex, you didn't know. 

           Beckett didn't seem like the sort of man to be kept waiting. Presumably, the faster you did something, the more he liked you. 

           Your throat hurt. You wanted that medicine. You kneeled. 

           He stepped over to you, getting close so you had to tilt your neck up uncomfortably. 

           "Do you like making people look up at you because you're short, or do you just like your girls submissive?" You challenged. 

           He leaned in so his breath tickled your ear. "Yes," he purred. 

           Oh good Lord. He liked to see people beneath him. He liked to put them in their place. And he likes his girls to obey him. 

           He was eliciting a feeling from you that was not welcome, but not unpleasant.

           He was doing this on purpose. He touched you just enough that you knew what it felt like, foreshadowed how he was going to fuck you, and left you alone in the brig to think about it. 

           He unscrewed the bottle and stared at you for what felt like an agonizingly long time. He was enjoying himself. 

           "Open your mouth." It was soft enough to be a whisper, and the sentence was swallowed up by thick wooden walls once it left his mouth. 

           You couldn't do it. Not in front of this man, who was instructing you like a dog. No, not him. 

           He put a hand on your chin, letting one finger idly trace your lips. "You have no reason to worry. I won't let you choke."

           Holy fuck. You did not understand how he could say it with such seriousness, like he wasn't suggesting anything at all. How he could keep looking into your eyes as if the words hadn't passed his lips. 

           Slowly, you opened your mouth. It made you feel like you were at his mercy. You were, in a way, but he was only giving you medication. You repeated that thought. 

           It's only medicine. Only medicine. 

           True to his word, he was careful about how much of the substance he poured down your throat. You didn't choke. Once he pulled his hand away, you closed your mouth and swallowed. 

           He patted your head. "Good girl."

           "I. Am. Not. A. Dog." You glowered, but it was ineffective because you were still on your knees. 

           He only smirked, removing his hand from your head, but not before catching a lock of your hair with his fingers. He played with it for a moment, then let it drop back down in your face. 

           He sighed. "I can't have you stay in the  brig if I want to get you to Port Royal alive for your hanging. It would be disappointing for the crowd to watch a corpse." He turned your attention to a pile of blankets and towels you hadn't noticed before. "You can sleep there, or on one of the chairs. I don't have anything proper for you, I'm afraid."

           "I could use a hammock." You knew the sailors used one. There had to be extras. 

           "I'm not having you sleep with the crew. They aren't all as gentlemanly as I am."

           You raised your eyebrows. "You just want me all to yourself." You didn't know if teasing was a good idea, but it was worth the try.

           His eyes raked up and down your body. Then, he grinned. It wasn't a smirk, and it wasn't accompanied by hooded eyes. It was the true, playful grin of a man with bright eyes and a joke waiting to fall off his tongue. You imagined him in his younger years, sharing smiles with classmates, meeting up at tea shops, and poking fun at professors. He might have been a different person altogether once, and it showed. 

           "I'm not interested in you until you take a bath." It wasn't derogatory. It was a joke, pure and simple. 

           "I'm afraid that the East India Company doesn't provide adequate areas for bathing criminals." A small smile crept up your face. 

           Beckett turned, hiding his amusement. "I'll make sure you get one, then. If we're both interested in each other, that is."

           You laughed. Actually laughed. And when he left, you caught a glimpse of the perfectly real smile on his face. 

           You weren't allowed to leave the room. You didn't mind, though; it was much better than the brig. You took it upon yourself to test out the makeshift bed and take a nap. 

           Beckett returned to the study for dinner. The table was set with a confusing array of utensils, and you weren't exactly sure what to do with them. 

           You'd been allowed a bath. It did wonders for you, cleaning off grime you didn't even know was there. You looked like an entirely new person. 

           Bereft of extra clothes, Beckett had loaned you some. They were his; the two of you were about the same size. They were surprisingly form-fitting, and tight across the chest. Beckett seemed to appreciate that fact. 

           When the food arrived, you grabbed what you hoped was the right utensil.

           Beckett looked at you, amused. "Wrong fork."

           "Fancy dinners weren't exactly covered in my education." Still, you felt embarrassed. 

           "I suppose not. I'll have to teach you." He did, explaining what everything was for. You didn't see why it was necessary to make a meal so complicated. It was just food. 

           A small smile played on your lips; you couldn't help yourself. This was not what you had imagined imprisonment would be like. "Why are you training me to be a lady? You're going to hang me anyway." The smile fell away. 

           "Not necessarily. I could hire you to... assist me." His eyes scanned your body like it was another course of the meal. Finally, he tore his gaze back to your eyes. "I always need information."

           "You want me to be a spy for you?"

           "An informant. The term is so much nicer; I think it takes away from the negative connotation. But in essence, yes. A girl can be ignored in many places where a man cannot."

           You considered this. He was right, of course, and you'd prefer not to die in the coming days. His offer wasn't a bad one. "Do you have other spies?" You asked. 

           "Of course. Mr. Mercer, for instance."

           "The wicked looking man who accompanied you that first day?"

           "That would be him."

           Working for Beckett wouldn't be so bad. Not really. 

           There was a lull in conversation as you both ate. The food was delicious. How they kept anything fresh was beyond you, but you were grateful for it. Unfortunately, you couldn't enjoy it properly. Too many thoughts swirled through your brain. 

           "You talked about breaking me in, that first day. Have you done it, do you think?" You thought about how he made you kneel in front of him. If that wasn't obedience, you didn't know what was. 

           "Not quite." He set down his fork, being careful to keep his expression neutral. "How would you have me do it?"

           You swallowed. Is he serious? "Gently."

           He rose and stepped over to you, eyes searching your face. One hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

           It was the gentlest kiss you'd ever received while still being passionate. It was full of heat, but not particularly intense. 

           "Was that good enough, or shall I try again?" He murmured against your lips. 

           "Try again," you breathed. 

           He did. Again and again, until you both had to pull away and gasp for air. 

           "Oh dear." He looked almost as surprised as you felt. Suddenly, he couldn't quite meet your eyes. 

           "Feeling abashed now?" You teased. "Do you recall all the things you've said to me in the past days?"

           A light blush colored his face. "I do, but that was just talk." His nervousness was helping your own. You didn't feel so awkward. 

           "Will I be your plaything, then?" You asked, teasing. 

           "My dear girl," a bit of his usually collected demeanor was returning, "I don't play." He absentmindedly ran a strand of your hair between his fingers. "Especially not with girls of whom I'm so fond."

           The kiss he gave you then was slower and more sure. He leaned into you and let a hand wander into your hair, sighing into your mouth. 

           You wondered why he bothered giving you the pile of blankets. It wasn't like you'd be getting much sleep anyway. 

[queen-writing-sideblog]

Prompt - Poly!Queen went on a vacation in Japan a few years later after their very happy first visit. They enjoy hot spring, sake and all kinds of delicious Japanese dishes and desserts together and generally just had a great time throughout.

They had all liked Japan really well the first time that they had come to visit. That being said, while they did have the time to do some things, most of their time and energy was spent on the tour, and then a good chunk of the time they weren’t playing venues or doing interviews or making appearances, they were sleeping, because it really was quite and exhausting thing to do, go on tour.

So, what better to do when they finally had a bit of free time on their hands a few years later then to go back to Japan and experience it without being stressed all of the time about everything?

John and Brian had brought their cameras with them to snap pictures of everything around them, to capture the memories to later be crammed into a photo album and say on their coffee table.

They were just walking along the street, admiring the city. There were so many buildings, and colors and bright lights and the whole thing was  just.. Beautiful, really. Freddie and Roger were walking hand in hand, Roger had his other hand in Brian’s back pocked, and Brian had an arm around John, who seemed content to snap pictures of the city around him, and, when the moment arose, of something that the other three were doing. 

He got a few pretty nice pictures.

One of Roger nearly falling into the road.

One of Freddie signing something for a fan.

One of Brian’s crisps getting stolen by a squirrel.

And most memorable, one of a pigeon swooping down and trying to steal his camera. 

Alright, so maybe the trip wasn’t absolutely perfect by most standards, but it was still fun, even if the wildlife seemed hellbent on terrorizing them.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

oh, I love them too! since I'm not the only one, here are a few random headcanons I have about Rebecca and Scheherazade:

they are a lot older then they look, maybe 200-300, maybe even older. and their closets of course reflex’s that. they are ginormous. Scheherazade especially would just have a day where she’s suddenly just in full on victorian garb and doesn’t even blink. 

Rebecca is covered in tattoos. like, COVERED. also she has short hair…. i always picture her with short hair and Scheherazade’s being perfectly pristine. maybe some crisp, tight finger waves? that would fit her. 

they only just settled down after taking their niece in. before that, they traveled the world, for hundreds of years, probably had a little pocked dimension that they called their home. 

Rebecca smokes a pipe, Scheherazade smokes cigarettes but only with one of those dramatic holders.

they met when they were both accused of being witches and were captured to be tortured, tested and ultimetly burned. but they ultimately escaped together, probably burned all of those people for wanting to kill them and some where in between they fell in love.

also, since the moment they met, they haven’t spent a day apart. after hundreds of years they are still madly in love. 

I would do just about anything for some more Eddie x witch!reader blurbs. They are just too perfect together and I love the lesbian aunts. 🥰

Could I request witch!reader nursing a sick Eddie back to health with some herbal remedies? Making a simmer pot? Reading witchy history and lore to him? 🥰

A/N: I should really talk to my sibling about witch lore and history some day because they know so so so much about it. they'd probably love to give me a little seminar. honestly wouldn't be the first time. (although it is mostly scandinavian witch lore, but still)

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, please tell me what you think!

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Masterlist

Ladling the concoction into a slightly chipped mug, you switched off the stove in the Munson's small kitchen, lidded the pot and balanced the streaming cup over towards the couch where your sneezing boyfriend was sprawled out upon.  

“Here,” you kneeled down beside him and handed him the drink, “bottoms up,” giving his tangled curls a soft pat before you got up again. It would probably be a good idea for you to help him with that rat's nest, but not just yet, wouldn’t want to add to the discomfort he was already enduring. 

“What’s in it?” he eyed the beverage mistrustingly as the scent bored through his stuffed nostrils. 

Considering a moment actually telling him, you opted not to, “you don’t wanna know,” fearing that he wouldn’t get near it if he knew, “just drink it.”

As you got up and slugged on your backpack, Eddie’s pout grew larger, “can’t you just skip school today? Stay here with me?” 

Since he hadn’t gotten even an ounce of rest during the cough ridden night, you’d only popped over just for a moment before school began.

“Eddie…”

“Yeah, okay, okay, fine. You go, be all smart and stuff,” then added dramatically, nearly spilling the drink as it sloshed around at his wild movements, “just leave me here to die!” 

“Well,” you bent down to slip your shoes back on, “if you do, I’ll just do an illegal ritual to bring you back.” 

His big eyes blinked up at you as you rose to your feet again, like two crystals bundled up in every single blanket within a mile's radius, “you’d really do that? Wow, you must really love me…” 

“I really really do,” you smiled and swung your long colourful scarf over your shoulder, “so please for the love of merlin, try and get some rest. I’ll see you after school, okay?”

“Okay,” he smooched his cheek down deeper into the pillow. 

“And it’s friday, so I can stay over all night if you’d like,” then recalled the book you’d both been taking turns reading out loud to each other, “I could finish reading you that book if you want.” 

“Oh, can you also do that thing with the shadows while you do it?” his eyes lit up at the memories of the few times you’d put on the magical puppet show for him. 

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