#this isn’t guilty pleasure because I never feel guilt for my pleasures

[deanaferal]

I have been an unashamed goo goo dolls fan for enough decades that I have affectionately referred to them solely as the “doo doo goos” for so long that I often forget when talking to strangers that isn’t their actual band name and they will think that you are stupid as fuck and not funny at all lol

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

“Guilty” Little Pleasures

 Some of these will have references to my HCs about their family so check out my HCs here! (if you want) (also some of these are not guilty bc there are a few boys that are straight up shameless so...)

HEARTSLAYBUL Riddle - He’s done this since he was a kid. It started off as a tiny rebellion, and he never got caught, so he never stopped doing it. But late at night, if he happens to wake up, he’ll go to the kitchen and just slice a piece of butter to eat Just Like That. When he was younger he would only take what he could get without there being a visible difference, but in a dorm there’s no telling who’s using the butter and when, so taking a bigger chunk isn’t an issue...right? Trey - He’s a brony. He started watching MLP as a joke with his little siblings and then suddenly he was tucking away merch carefully in his room so that they wouldn’t find it. He’s more embarrassed about his family finding out than he is about friends finding out, so if he lets it slip somehow, please let him nerd out. Please. (Trey and Idia don’t interact much but now they have to) Cater - He has a love/hate relationship with catfishing/ghosting people. Not for long, mind you, he doesn’t want to genuinely lead anyone on, but using some photo of a hot model and a few minutes setting up a fake dating profile, he matches with everyone he can. He knows the compliments are meant for the picture of the person he posted, but for just a few minutes, he can pretend they’re for him. Instead of coming clean, he just leaves them on read and never talks to them again. Deuce - We already know how conflicted he is about his favourite food (eggs) so the mild guilt only gets worse when he finds he enjoys both the sound and the feeling of crushing the shells in his hands, especially after hard boiling eggs and parts of the shell are all connected and he can just make them CRUNCH. Ace - He likes to sneak out of his room at night- but not for troublemaking. He likes to go sit with the hedgehogs since they are nocturnal and just chill with them, because when nobody else is around he gets to babytalk them. Cater has caught him Once.  (everyone else is below!)

Savanaclaw Leona - Similar to Trey, he watched Bluey with Cheka and Falena once and now he binges it when he needs a good cry, he will NEVER tell anyone he owns the vinyl for it though. Ruggie - Oh man my dude LIVES for starting drama without getting involved. He likes watching from the sidelines. HC that he will get paid by folks around the school to use his signature spell to get petty revenge on someone. It’s never meant to hurt anyone, but kinda just ruin their day. Someone landed the entire class detention with Crewel? Yeah, they might end up stuck standing in a water fountain for a half hour with their homework. Jack - To me, Jack is the youngest in his family (I expand on that in my family HCs ^^) and while he feels a little guilty, he is the #1 offender for licking a knife of peanut butter and putting it back in the jar to continue using it. He’ll do the same for jam and jelly. He drinks straight out of the milk jug. He got caught once by his sister and she made him pay for the jar of peanut butter in hopes he wouldn’t do it again- but it didn’t work. Octavinelle Azul - He spends a lot of money on outfits he wants to wear, but he doesn’t think he ever will, whether it be confidence issues or once he gets it its not what he expected, but its a self punishment to not return it and get his money back so that he can just look at it and think about whether he’ll ever be brave enough to take that first step and just try it on. More often than not, it’s a lot of extravagant dresses that he’s too shy to try on, but he loves shopping for. Jade - He prides himself on his composed personality, though when the mostro lounge closes for the night, when not even Floyd can see him, he likes first watching the lobsters in the tank like a cat, pupils blown up and grinning, ready for his little self indulgent time. When he finally gets bored, he partially reverts into his mer form, plunging his hands into the tank and grabbing one to snack on. He makes sure to write it off to “waste” before Azul can find out.  Floyd - Eating things he knows he’s not supposed to. It’s not his fault land items look so yummy, and his teeth need something to sink into, harder than would be tolerated for affectionate bites. Anything with something tough on the outside and soft on the inside or makes a popping noise is the best, like tightly bound leather or bubble wrap or pop cans. Scarabia Kalim - I have a rather dark HC for him here, but if you’re looking for something lighter, he has a really bad habit at picking at his lips. When he does remember to wear chapstick, he usually licks it off because it tastes good... Jamil - TV dinners, man, this poor guy loves to cook, he genuinely does, but sometimes when Kalim makes him cook unexpectedly for 20+ people, he does not want to even eat what he’s made by the time he’s done cleaning up. At least when it’s under those circumstances, he can justify eating microwave dinners, but a lot of time he just has them when he’s straight up EXHAUSTED. Pomefiore Vil - Aw man, his weak spot is pizza. Sometimes he calls to place an order with a voice modulator and picks up his order in disguise just outside of campus and just....destroys two large pizzas a a 1 liter bottle of cola, hiding in a very specific spot in the walls by the gate of campus where there’s a gap just big enough for him to stuff himself into and hide his Gremliness.

Rook - Does this man even feel guilt for things he should feel guilt for? I don’t know. What he does do though, is watch potential couples on campus, and if he thinks they’re going to fall apart before they get together, forges a love letter from one to another. Epel - In case pocket onions weren’t enough, Epel likes sneaking into Vil’s room and trying on his clothes, only to mock him in his mirror. He is meticulous in putting everything back where it’s meant to be, but also shifts everything on Vil’s vanity just slightly to the left to fuck with him a bit. He always leaves through the window, he does not want to be found in the hallway by accident. Ignihyde Idia - He has so many...but his biggest guilty pleasure is doomscrolling Leona’s magicam page bc....Beeg kitty (I don’t ship them, sometimes people are just Nice To Admire) Ortho - (this is sad I’m sorry) he looks through photos of his human counterpart and wonders if he is filling the shoes that have been left for him properly. If he’s developing the way the human Ortho would have. Diasomnia Malleus - Obviously, he enjoys sneaking out, but sometimes when he’s out he just likes to go fishing. He could, catch a fish by hand in seconds, but he enjoys the peaceful quiet and patience the sport requires. He only fishes until he’s caught one worth eating, guts it, then takes care to cook it to perfection using his flames before eating it. Lilia - This man canonically picks his nose in public how tf am I supposed to top that. Silver - When someone other than his dad is cooking/baking something in the oven, like fish, he likes to peel up bits and pieces of the oil/seasoning and just eat it. If there’s the skin of something on there, yeah he’s eating it. Sebek - He has a stuffie collection that hides under his bed, which is part of why he was so enamoured by his stuffie in Harveston. RSA Che’nya - He likes to eat his bananas without peeling them. Just Because. Neige - He will drink shots of ranch. Sorry. Cheka - licks his play-dough. Knows not to eat it. But He Likes The Salt

[jolalibrary]

thank you for the tag @covetyou 😘

also apologies to anyone who tagged me in other things last week I didn’t do. it was a week and I don’t think I was even on the planet for most of it.

do you make your bed? yes, if I don’t it actually annoys me. my husband is not fab at making the bed how I like it so I have to redo it a lot.

favourite number: four. I like that it has four letters, and is the number, and I like how it looks. I can’t explain it but writing it is nice both like this 4 and like this four.

what’s your job: I work in marketing, that’s all I’m saying

if you could go back to school, would you: hell. no. I love learning, but I love learning how I learn. I do not do well in classrooms. it’s the spicy anxiety, I like setting my own schedule and my own things.

can you parallel park: <brushes curl behind ear> I can, and I can do it with my hand behind the passenger seat and my palm on the wheel like a man does.

do you think aliens are real: I don’t think they’re not real, it’s too big a landscape out there that hasn’t been explored. just like I don’t think there isn’t some weird shark army living in the depths of the sea. you don’t know what you don’t know.

can you drive a manual car: it’s all I know, baby

what’s your guilty pleasure: I feel zero guilt about the things I enjoy, but if I had to choose for the sake of the question I guess I’m going for eating those share bags of chocolate and doing so until I feel sick

tattoos: zero. similar to lo, I had ideas, still want the same one from when I turned 25 but now I’m just like I cba with handling the needle drama 😂

favourite colour: strawberry milkshake pink

do you like puzzles?: no, can’t fucking stand them. I am not logically minded. I get impatient, I get stubborn and I get so salty about them. I tried to do one a few months ago to decompress and I got so enraged I had to take myself to bed.

any phobias: god, yeah. I’m terrified of lizards, which is great. I’m scared of clowns. and I’m not best pleased with wheat (since i am allergic to it)

favourite childhood sport: badminton—I was amazing at it, played for my school and almost for my city until I got self conscious as someone told me my face gets “so red” and I dropped out and vowed never to play a sport again.

do you talk to yourself: a fair bit, sometimes I do it in the car when I’m working through a plot thing. sometimes I do it when I’m doing something I’ve never done before, and sometimes I just talk to the corgi — which is basically talking to myself as he doesn’t listen — because I hate the quiet.

unsure who to tag, so ignore me if you’ve done this: @goodwithcheese @javier-pena @nothoughtsjustmeds @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @luxurychristmaspudding @yxtkiwiyxt

[snoozingredpanda]

NSFW ASK!!! what are all the girls into in bed?

Is so bad how excited I was getting such a broad request, let my imagination go wild 😭

—

Random NSFW Headcannons!

18+ Please!

Fem!Reader (Nox, Fenix, Lockie) and GN!Reader (Benni, Rudy)

Warnings: NSFW in general. There are so many warnings I honestly can’t list them all. The worst (imo) are sub/dom, sadism, knives, choking, mommy kink, biting, breeding, tail dildo 😭

—

Benni

• First things first, she’s a switch, but prefers to dom. Or at least be on top of you, as she loves looking down at you and seeing your flushed, needy face.

• Big praiser. Will praise you, and hates to degrade you unless it’s mixed in with praises.

• “Slut’s so needy, aren’t you? Such a good whore for me.”

• Doesn’t shut up. Moaning, whining, praising, grunting, all the noises that she’s too embarrassed to admit she makes in the morning.

• Has a thing for taking photos of you in general, but especially in bed. Your fucked out face and your slick-covered body, or maybe a video of your hole taking her strap so well, her hips snapping against yours, the video all shaky because she can barely keep control of herself.

• Kinda into pet play, both ways. Will be your master or puppy, whichever you prefer. Only in bed, though, and on occasions, as she prefers vanilla sex over very kinky sex.

• However, she does like a good collar, on you. She likes the ones which look like chokers, so you can wear them in public, and only she knows the true meaning of it. She won’t do anything with the collar really, she won’t leash you up unless you ask, and won’t be annoyed or sad if you choose not to wear it.

• Marking is a big thing for Benni. Loves to mark and be marked, mainly hickeys but also a little biting. Will 100% bite you every time she cums, on your neck, if you let her.

• Prefers to wear a strap and fuck you, but isn’t against you fucking her with your cock or strap. She just gets a bit embarrassed at how quickly she turns into a mess as you fuck her sopping hole.

Nox

• Dom. Just dom. she won’t sub, unless you were to get her very drunk and have sex with her, but that’s not very nice so don’t do that.

• She’s heavily into the sub/dom dynamics, both in bed and out, however depending on you, she can either be a soft dom or hard dom.

• If you don’t like pain or anything too harsh, she’ll be much more softer with you, and the furthest she’ll go is bondage and spanking. If you like the hard stuff, she’ll potentially bring in knives and choking into bed, but she’s always very careful, as you mean the world to her and she’d hate herself if she harmed you.

• She does want you to be marked by her, whether that be her carving her name into your stomach or you getting a tattoo of her name, she doesn’t mind, but she’ll definitely want you branded as hers.

• She praises and degrades evenly, often using her praises to further degrade you, although it’s never anything actually mentally harming. Just comments on how much of a slut you are, or how well your pussy takes her strap.

• Speaking of, she will never let you use a strap on her. She’s very protective of herself, and dealing with her haphephobia, she doesn’t like her private parts being touched or stimulated a lot. She doesn’t care for orgasms really, what gives her pleasure is you cumming on her tongue, fingers and cock. She does sometimes chase her high, usually when you’ve been a brat and worked her up so much she just needs some relief. If you do want to touch her, though, she will allow you to rub her clit at most maybe scissoring if she’s in a good mood, but nothing goes inside of her, and that’s something she expects you to respect. If you break that respect, she’ll be much meaner to you, using her manipulation tactics to guilt trip you and isolate you (even though you are in the wrong and should be feeling guilty).

• As much as she does like sub and dom dynamics, she does like vanilla sex sometimes. Slow and steady, kissing you continuously as her hips rock against you, drinking up your whines and moans.

• As for outside of bed, if you don’t want to do the whole sub and dom thing, she won’t mind, but if you do, she’s not like one of those weird ‘daddies’ that treat their subs like a kid. That’s gross. She likes to take care of you, if you show her respect and kindness, and make sure you’re safe and happy, providing for you financially and physically. She 100% will give you her credit card and send you off on shopping sprees every week cause she loves seeing you dolled up in new outfits.

• If you start to be a little less respectful and distant, she won’t punish you, assuming you’ve grown tired of the dynamic, and that’s okay. She’ll probably have a talk with you and find out what’s going on. But if you’re just being a brat on purpose she will punish you. Spanking, edging or overstimulation, probably.

• “Slut thinks she can fuck around and expect to cum? Think again, babe.”

Rudy

• Origionally she thought sex was for breeding purposes only, but once you introduced her into the world of pleasure, she becomes a cock-obsessed whore. Like straight up on her knees begging for you every night.

• Loves to be manhandled. She’s quite small, so it’s easy to just flip her over and pin her down, and she goes crazy when you’ve got her face pressed into her nest and her hole stuffed with your cock/strap.

• She loves to taste you too. Her tongue is long and forked, perfect to wrap around your length or slip into your cunt, slurping up all your cum greedily. Although she has to learn that her teeth are sharp and you’re sensitive.

• Her tail honestly is an amazing dildo. It’s a little pointed, but if you soak it in warm water for a while, it becomes less hard and more rubbery.

• She likes to ride your face and use her tail on you, or suck you off and use her tail on her.

• Her tail’s quite sensitive, so if you grab it when fucking her, she’ll go wild and cum right there and then. When she cums, her wings do a little flappy flap, unable to control them.

• Rudy loves to mark and be marked. It’s a part of dragon traditions, to mark mates, so expect her to be biting you a lot, and she’ll want you to do it too in return.

• She’s quite submissive, likes to follow your orders, but can be a brat at times. She gets all whiny and disobedient when she wants something, and you’ll have to remind her who’s in charge sometimes. Face-fucking is a good punishment — it’s makes her whimper and disoriented, but very obedient, wanting her hole to be full of you.

• “Mmphf! Y—Y/n… Ngh~ N—needs you~!”

• Her biggest kink of definitely breeding. Obviously, it’s programmed into her brain and body to produce offspring, and so she’ll want you to cum inside her and give her your young, even if you biologically can’t. If she does get pregnant, she’ll become even needier and cock-hungry because of the hormones, but if not, she’ll be sad.

• She’ll find herself longing for babies, and will want to have sex with you more because she doesn’t understand that you can’t physically impregnate her. So she’ll keep trying and trying, growing more and more disheartened.

• If you find a way to get her pregnant, perhaps finding a donor dragon, or even human (although dragons have higher fertility rates than humans), or even just adopting a baby will fill that void, but nothing will beat the feeling of her carrying your babies.

• Once she’s got her young, she’s happy, though, and as long as she gets to take care of a little one, she’s back to being the Rudy we know and love. And back to begging for your touch.

Fenix

• Kinda vanilla tbh. She’s been traumatised too much to be into anything too kinky. All she wants is sweet, loving sex, where she gets to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and hear your praises.

• Like, nothing beats the two of you on top of one another, slowly scissoring as your breathy moans fill the room. Rolling your hips against one another, kissing and sucking at each other’s skin.

• Although when she becomes more comfortable with you, she will want to try bondage. Having never been in control of anything, she loves the idea of tying you up and having her way with you, being fully in control of the situation.

• She loves the way you whine and squirm as she fucks her strap into your hole, watching intently to see which positions and speed you liked best, studying you like you were a project.

• She doesn’t like mess, so she always cleans up thoroughly after sex. She’ll drag you to the bathroom to shower or bathe, and change the bedsheets, even if they’re not wet with cum. She likes to be hygienic, and if you use toys she’s washing them every single time they’re used, often during a sex session just to make sure.

• If you want to dominate her, she’ll let you if you plead and beg enough. She’s not too comfortable with being out of control, but since it’s you, and she trusts you with all of her heart, she’ll allow it. Nothing much, perhaps some oral or fingering, you’ll have to build her up to using toys on her, but over time she’ll come to like being a pillow princess once in a while, especially when she’s had a bad day mentally. She’ll lay back, letting out breathy whimpers and moans as you slowly fuck the stress and sadness out of her. She’s not really into rough sex when she’s not into control, so don’t try to go too fast.

• Another thing she’s into is lingerie. She finds it so pretty on you, red and black her favourite colours to see on your skin. She’ll be so gentle with you, careful not to rip any pieces so you can wear them again.

• “You… you look so beautiful… I want to savour you all night, my love. May I taste your pretty pussy, you deserve it after all?”

• She once wore lingerie for your birthday, a cute black lacy set that she felt quite vulnerable in, but had seen your search history, that exact piece on your wish list that was definitely not your size, rather hers. So she bought it, and let you ravish her, cheeks red the whole time.

• To be completely honest, Fenix’s sex drive is a little below average. You’ll have sex around once a week, maybe less, as she’d genuinely rather cuddle with you, as it gives her the same amount of intimacy as sex does. If you want sex more often, she’ll be happy to oblige, but it will probably only be oral or fingering at most, not hours and hours of sex.

Lockie

• Sweet girl just wants to make you happy. She will do anything to make you feel good, even if it’s something quite kinky. The only thing she won’t do is really hurt you. She’s okay with a few spanks and biting, but honestly, she can’t bring herself to leave bruises.

• She’s neither a definitive top nor bottom, so she can mould herself to your preferences. If you prefer to be fucked, she’ll top you every night, but if you prefer to do the fucking, she’ll gladly bottom.

• Now, just because she doesn’t mind which position, doesn’t mean she’s a dominant person. The complete opposite, really. Hates giving orders and taking control, would rather you tell her what to do. She’s a subby person by nature, and she honestly loves it when you care for her and praise her. Will be your pillow princess, but also your pleasure top.

• Although, keep in mind it’s hard for her to top consistently. Her leg was amputated just above the knee, so she only has one leg she’s stable on, so it’s pretty hard to be on top all the time, especially when using a strap. She can stack some pillows to act as the extra few inches of leg, but she can’t go too fast or rough, otherwise they’ll just topple. So expect sweet, slow sex when she’s on top… or just have her lay on her belly and fuck you with her fingers or tongue.

• Lockie won’t admit it, but she does like to bottom more. She loves seeing you on top of her, and just generally dominant. She will do anything you ask of her, in hopes of a reward for all her hard work.

• She’s a whiner. Hiding her face, embarrassed and dripping, she’ll make these little whines and whimpers, a sound that doesn’t match her 6’4 body, but it’s still hot af.

• Mommy kink.

• Just gonna say it. It’s not like she wants you to act like a parent or anything, she just… well… she doesn’t know. She just likes to be taken care of, and told what to do. It just came out one night and she turned bright red. Of course, if you’re not into that specific petname, she also likes ma’am, master, sir, mistress, anything like that. Not daddy, though. She’s too close to her father. Her mom left when she was seven so mommy issues 💀.

• And oh god if you have a ranking of title like Sargent or Captain or General, she’s gonna be unable to stop calling you that in bed, it even tops her massive mommy kink. Just something about you being in charge both in bed and in the workplace… 🤭

• Okay so some of her kinks are actually kinda surprising. Public teasing makes her go crazy. Loves being out with you, everyone expecting her to be the ‘man of the relationship’ cause of her size and masculinity, only for you to whisper in her ear how much of a good girl she is, and how you’ll reward her when you get home.

• She literally will do anything for you. Full on lovesick puppy, following you around as you go about your day, holding your shopping bags and buying you nice clothes and food. All in return for you railing her when you get home. Or punishing her. It’s a win-win.

• Punishing her if she gets jealous of something is very fun. She’s a silent envier, glares at the person and acts all whiny and annoyed towards you. But when you get home… she’s a sobbing, shaking mess, face buried in your neck as she begs for you to let her cum, letting out broken apologies for being a brat, and that she’s sorry for being rude and jealous. Whether you let her cum or not is up to you, but know she’s gonna wake you up in the middle of the night grinding herself on you, having been toying with herself all night but unable to cum if you don’t.

• “P—please… fuck… need you… m’sorry mommy, I’ll be good n—next time…”

• Praising and degrading go hand in hand for Lockie. Loves being your good girl, also luoves being your dumb fucktoy. Don’t be too mean, though, she’s sensitive.

• Will wear a collar for you. In fact, loves it… indoors. Her anxiety would be through the roof if your sexual activities were straight up exposed to the world. Same with public sex. As much as it sounds fun on paper, she’d probably die of embarrassment and worry.

• Although if you tease her enough she may participate something a little risky like car sex or make out in an alley.

• All kinkiness aside, Lockie loves sweet, loving sex with you. Where you’re cuddled up together, kissing and moaning against each other. It helps her destress after a hard day, or if she’s had a terrible panic attack. Your touch always makes her feel better, and just general cuddling also helps.

• And leave her leg alone. She gets so many messages of creepy people asking for stump pics. (Not me adding this in cause of some creepy nsfw request 😭).

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 11/?

Prev | Next

Not really proud of this chapter, but I need a transition lol anyway, enjoy Bruce's and Jazz's POV

Bruce would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous of his youngest and second oldest.

They had gotten a chance to be with Danny all morning and get to know him. Bruce could admit to himself that he yearned to talk one-to-one with Danny.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, he focused on the task at hand; getting rid of the threat to his children (and trying to talk to Talia to tear her a new one.)

Bruce had Oracle monitoring the city to make sure no suspicious characters were lurking in his city. He may not have been able to protect Danny from the League of Assassins or save Jason from his death, but he would be damned if he let any more harm come to his children.

(Even in the short time he knew about Danny, Bruce had already thought of Danny as his, with or without the biological ties there.)

“Are you sure this will work? It’s not as if the whole UN is there at the moment, and the United States isn’t known for admitting its mistakes,” Maddie asked, bringing Bruce back to the present. Bruce was in the Batcave, talking to the Fentons through video call.

“It may have been last minute, but most countries are coming since it’s a call from the Justice League. It may take a week, but they’ll be there. You provide the evidence you and your allies have complied against the GIWs, and we’ll do the rest.”

“We appreciate everything you’ve done for Danny, Bruce,” Jack said, “We don’t think we would’ve been able to do this so quickly if it weren’t for you and the Justice League. It makes me feel a little bad we didn’t go to you first, but” Jack shrugged.

Bruce understood. The Justice League had been an unknown, and they didn’t want to risk their son (Bruce’s son). Bruce would’ve done the same thing. He could appreciate when parents put their children first (something even he forgot to do sometimes, though he was trying.)

“Do you know what you’re going to talk about and what you’re going to show?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent talking and planning. By the time they were done with their plans, it was close to dinner.

“Bruce,” Maddie said, “thank you for doing this for Danny and us. We will let Danny decide, but if and when he wants to have a relationship with you, we won’t stand in the way. Just be good to our boy.”

Bruce wished he had been there for Danny but thanked whichever higher being that his son had people as loyal as the Fentons when he couldn’t be there.

“It is my pleasure to help you and Danny, more so because he is my son. Thank you for saying what you did. I don’t want to force him, but if he ever wants to build a relationship with me, I would be proud to get to know him.”

“He is extraordinary,” Jack praised.

Bruce smiled; he already knew that.

____

Jazz was glad that Damian and Jason had left before dinner. As proud as she was of Danny, a part of her couldn’t help but be worried for her little brother. Damian may feel guilty, but he still brought unresolved trauma to Danny.

Maybe she should help Danny, but she would have to learn to hide her feelings about Damian. A part of her wished Danny hadn’t forgiven Damian. He hurt her little brother; he didn’t deserve a second chance.

She sighed.

That wasn’t fair. Danny needed this. She just hoped he wasn’t doing it out of guilt.

The small family ate dinner with their parents being cautiously hopeful that the Justice League would be able to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts. Jazz wanted to be optimistic, really, she did, but she couldn’t be until it happened.

(She knew it was her paranoia but couldn’t stop herself.)

After dinner, Jazz, Danny, and her parents sat to talk about how they would speak to the UN. It was already decided that Danny wouldn’t show up (no matter how much he protested.). Still, he would give them evidence through rules, cultures, and literature written exclusively in the Infinite Realms.

It would be hard to prove a whole species was non-sentient when they saw proof of their poetry and romance books, laws, and art.

Next, Maddie and Jack would hit them with all the pictures and videos Tucker had downloaded when he hacked the GIW. Jazz hated seeing them but knew if Danny had to watch his subjects suffer, she should, too.

After a long evening of sifting through videos, photos, and reports, the elder Fentons decided to go to bed. Jazz and Danny went to the living room and put on a random sitcom show. The canned laughter filled the silence between them.

“You don’t have to do this, Danny.”

Danny frowned, “Of course I do, I may not have wanted to be king, but I am now. I have to protect my people.”

Jazz was shaking her head.

“No, not that, little brother. I mean forgiving Damian.”

The canned laughter grew louder for a moment.

“Who said I forgave him?”

Jazz frowned, “I don’t understand.”

Danny muted the TV and turned to Jazz.

“I’m being…selfish. Ancients, it's worse when I say it out loud.”

Jazz took Danny’s hand and waited patiently for him to continue.

“I already told him I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive him; I won’t forget. But I want to build something new. I still want my little brother by my side. It might be toxic to want him near me even though I haven’t forgiven his betrayal, but,” Danny looked up, and there was a raw vulnerability in his eyes, “I missed Damian so, so much.”

Hours later, while Danny slept on her lap, Jazz couldn’t help but mull over his words.

She understood it to an extent. If she had been in Danny’s shoes and Danny had been the one that betrayed her, she would still want him near, even if it wasn’t the healthiest thing. Then again, at least Danny was honest with Damian from the beginning.

She sighed; what a clusterfuck.

If she could, she would find this League of Assassins and tear them a new one before destroying everything they had ever built.

She could get Damian to help her. It would be a good bonding experience…

Jazz tensed when she heard light footsteps on the roof. She wouldn’t have heard them if she hadn't had advanced hearing. Which means it could only be a member of the Batfamily.

Jazz felt anger blossom deep in her chest.

How dare they? Danny hadn’t called anyone else up except for Jason and Damian, and here was one of them clearly ignoring Danny’s boundaries.  

She carefully maneuvered herself without waking Danny up and took the Boo-staff. She was about to show how feral a Fenton could truly be.

Next Chapter: BAMF! Jazz and a certain member of the Batfam are gonna find out that you don't fuck with the Fentons. Extra points for anyone who guesses who it is that came to visit.

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo @chrysanthemum9484 @spooky-fm @gmkelz11 @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @supershot73199 @starscreamlover

[potterandpromises]

secrets i have held in my heart

I was thinking about Tim and Theo, about loneliness, shared secrets, and how circumstantial obsession is still obsession, and this one shot just demanded to be written.

In which Tim Kono almost gets murdered. Also on AO3.

Theo can’t remember when he got his first crappy set of binoculars— a birthday, maybe, 15 or 20 years ago. Occasionally, he would take them out of their drawstring bag and press them against the window.

(His dad had scolded him over it, told him to at least keep the blinds closed if he was going to be a Peeping Tom. It hadn’t been like that, but Theo couldn’t explain what it had been like.)

Guilt over his advanced people watching curved over the years. At first, it hadn’t occurred to him as being wrong. Then, as a teenager, it became a guilty pleasure, like romance novels. It had been, simultaneously, a thrill and a comfort to stand by the window and watch, never knowing what small part of his neighbors’ lives he might glimpse.

He’d almost lost interest by the time he met Zoe, although he’d stopped feeling bad about it when he started work at the funeral home. But she’d resparked something in him. He upgraded his binoculars and searched for her with her ‘Hardy Boys,’ always in apartments that didn’t belong to them.

After she died, whenever he was home alone, he’d park himself by the window and try to find Tim Kono.

(Tim spotted him at least once. His eyes grew wide and he hit the floor as if the binoculars were a sniper rifle.)

Some people smoked cigarettes. Theo’d used his binoculars to cope.

It was like when he slipped a wedding ring off an old woman’s finger, or pried out her gold teeth. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, his dad said.

(What they don’t know can’t hurt them, he’d think, and see Oscar’s face.)

Theo’s own apartment overlooks the street. People watching doesn’t have the same appeal. Really, he’s about dropped the habit. But his dad texts to say he’ll be late. So, he’ll just take a quick look, just for something to do.

Tim’s at the window, tense, but that doesn’t exactly signal anything. The man’s been on edge for a decade.

(What they don’t know can’t hurt them.)

Tim stumbles, pulls himself back upright. Maybe he’s having an asthma attack? No, Theo’s seen his asthma attacks. This isn’t that.

Tim gazes out the window, unseeing.

Fearful.

It’s unmistakable.

(Theo would know.)

It’s a panic attack. It’s his asthma after all. He’s dying; suffocating? Theo holds his breath.

Tim stumbles forward, goes down.

He doesn’t get back up.

Theo turns around, tells himself it could be nothing, just lightheadedness. He retrieves the toolbox, quickly. The average person can survive four minutes without oxygen before brain death begins.

He slams his door shut, hesitates for a split second, slips through the splitting elevator mouth. He pulls out his phone, pulls up 911, types out Tim’s address, nothing else.

How many seconds?

The elevator doors open. Lester, with the luggage cart, rises his hand in greeting. Theo grabs his arm and tugs. He waves his phone in his face, gestures for him to follow.

Theo never has a reason to be on this floor. He knows the way by heart.

(His dad is going to kill him for this.)

He’ll tell people he was birdwatching. He’ll tell people he taught himself to pick locks as a hubby.

They round the corner. He doesn’t have to pick the lock, a blond woman— Tim’s girlfriend— slips into his apartment.

—

Yesterday, Tim almost got murdered.

And it wasn’t because of the Dimases or his sketchy loans or because he’d pissed off his boss. That’s not why he’s laying in a hospital bed.

He’d gotten lonely and slept with the wrong person.

She might be a serial killer, he was told. They think there were others. Her boyfriends, her exes, people kept dying all around her.

But today he’ll go home, to his financial problems and his internet slouthing. He might have to testify, someday, but otherwise…

His relief at being alive, his weird false lightness, drops into dread at the sight of Theo Dimas striding down the hallway, disheveled and pissed off, a cheep purple bouquet in the crook of his arm.

Tim pulls himself up, nearly yanks out his IV.

When he’d regained lucidity, covered in charcoal and his own vomit, Tim cried for the first time in a decade. He asked the nurse why he wasn’t dead. She informed him he’d been poisoned and a woman was in police custody— she’d been in his apartment with a gun, but the doorman and one of his neighbors broke in. They saved his life.

Theo with his binoculars, his creepy ability to almost never be noticed.

Theo, outside the glass door to his hospital room.

He points to his ear and shakes his head, an awkward smile slapped across his face.

The police officer doesn’t even ask for Tim’s permission, he just lets Theo in.

What the hell?

“What do you want from me,” Tim crocks out, but Theo just drops the flowers unceremoniously on the countertop by the sink. Tim doesn’t repeat himself.

Theo stands by the end of Tim’s bed, reaches for something in his back pocket.

Tim stiffens despite himself. The Dimases aren’t stupid… and he’s still alive.

Theo holds out a small notepad, a message already scrawled.

Does this make us even?

Tim blinks. Did he think it would? Is that why…? Tim can make his part in all this— not right, Oscar will never get that time back— but he can make it a little more okay. He’s fitting the pieces in place to make sure the right men pay. Theo—

Theo shoves the notepad back into his pocket, waits for an answer. He’s agitated, like he hasn’t slept.

He should just nod, Tim knows, imply he’ll stop hunting for the threads that will unravel the comfortable, safe life the Dimases have build for themselves.

But Tim’s only ever told one lie.

“Why am I still alive?”

Theo’s eyes dart to his lips. He waits. They both wait. Theo shifts from one foot to the other. Tim doesn’t think he got the question.

Tim doesn’t repeat himself.

A tense set to his jaw, to his whole body, Theo turns and leaves.

Tim gets out of bed, pulls his gown closed, and dumps the grocery store flowers into the trash. It’s partly because of who brought them, and partly because of the pollen.

Once, he’d considered what life would have been like if Theo had joined the Hardy Boys. He’d concluded that Zoe would still be dead, and had wished, stupidly, with everything inside him, that her and Theo had never met. He’d wished Teddy’s father had been shot dead before he had a chance to reproduce. Now though, he’d give up all those unstained memories from when it was just him and Mabel for a chance to understand the man walking down the hospital corridor away from him.

Down the hallway, the elevator doors open. Theo nearly knocks shoulders with Mabel Mora.

[confused-n-queer]

Ok so listening to Deus in Absentia and am trying to interpret it* this is what I have so far word salad style

I kinda like a garden of Eden story being told where the forbidden fruit was a young person from a sheltered background coming to a city and exploring their sexuality and independence through the nightlife and having a cyclical push pull relationship with religion and god and the religious guilt that comes from it and like how they do these things and it felt really good in the moment but then they begin trying to purge themselves of in and beg for forgiveness from a god that isn’t there.

This next bit of characterization is gonna be a more storytelling/mythological pov than biblical/religious. Satan is the a neutral if contradictory**figure going ‘this was inevitable he was never gonna let you in no matter what you did or didn’t do. You can beg and plead for forgiveness but he turned his back on you and all of humanity ages ago. You feel like you fucked up and where damned by enjoying the pleasure and debauchery of sex(or for my queer catholic folks just existing outside the binary) and that’s ok you’re human so if you weren’t damned for this you’d be burning for something else. Just enjoy it while it lasts because we’re going down together you me and all of humanity

Or even a look around the world is crumbling we’re all fucked do you even think there is a god to give a shit about you if he’s letting all this happen. The shit you like is normal and no one ever told you not to feel guilty about it

Like Satan and man are both God’s creations and are more tightly linked to each other than to him and so it’s kinda a fucked up kinship kinda like a set of siblings with a huge age gap and an absent and abusive parent

* based solely on lyrics I’m not saying it’s the actual meaning I’ve read the Genius article and wanted to give another interpretation

** granting forbidden wisdom and freeing knowledge for all but also relishing in the chaos and discord of the ignorant and backwards

This is nonsense written just for myself before sleeping

I’ll post lyric breakdowns later

[nuggetsornah]

January 14th, 2023; 12:32am.

While I need to update this blog properly, so much has happened over the last few years that I am not in the correct headspace to explain it all. For now, I rant. I have been bottling so much for so long that I am driving myself crazy. I am currently in day 10 of an episode and am drowning with these crazy thoughts.I need to write them down without judgement in hopes I feel relief.

Being attracted to the illusion of someone is so dangerous. It is my worst trait. I am filled with immense guilt and shame for enjoying any tiny bit of male validation. But not just any. It’s always very specific type of man.. where they don’t outwardly obsess over me but are mean. Enemies to lovers troupe. My favorite.

What’s even worse is that he’s married. He has no interest. And frankly I don’t either. But something about it in my head is giving me just the right amount of innocent serotonin I need to stay alive. Why am I like this? I don’t actually want to be with him. I don’t want that to be real at all. I just love the little attention I get. The newness. The guidance and mentorship. The daddy issues inside of me are screaming with pleasure.

But it’s not real. I don’t want it to be real. I love this fantasy in my head. But that’s all it is - a fantasy. It’s innocent. I just don’t want to face the reality that is the issue at hand - that I feel unhappy in my marriage. I want to be in love again and I will be. I am simply in an episode and it will pass. But seeing someone else appear to be happy in their marriage and not having that hurts my heart. I want that love. I want that guidance and care. I’ve always wanted to be with an older man. And I never will.

I feel crazy. I feel guilty and immature and weird. I feel icky and vulnerable. I want to feel love and excitement like that without it being real. Because I don’t want to part ways. That’s not it. I just want to feel that. Or feel that in order to feel alive. It’s the only thing that’s making me feel alive at the moment, the rush of it all. But it hurts even more knowing that it’s not reciprocated. It’s literally all in my head. It’s not real.

I know this isn’t a legit issue because it’s interchangeable. It’s not him, it’s any man. This specific type. I can feel the hyperfixation fading because of how real it feels. The hurt and the highs. I want new and exciting again. Even temporarily. I want to feel that high. I need a reason to stay alive. It’s not him, it’s the feeling. I crave it.

How do I handle this? Do I actually handle it? I am tempted to message him but I’m gonna ruin it. But I already have right, so might as well be self destructive. Idk. I’m toxic.

I will say I feel better after writing this out. I have felt like such a bad person. I just want to to feel good for once. Even if I’m the problem. I am the problem.

Going to message and be self destructive. At least I feel a little better.

[wintersnowqueen]

Guilt

I hate when people say something is their guilty pleasure. This is primarily because inevitably the things they consider their guilty pleasures should simply be considered pleasures in my opinion. Things like lazy Sundays, a double scoop of ice cream, a fresh manicure, expensive linens, a big glass of wine, repeat watching of your favorite film and outsourcing house cleaning. Life is so hard- not all the time, but enough of the time- that we should pursue pleasure whenever possible and we shouldn’t have to waste time feeling bad about it. We shouldn’t have to justify the ways we spend our money or our time or our energy and yet it always feels like we’re expected to. 

As easily as I write that, I also know that I was raised on guilt. Thank you Catholisim and society, but maybe mostly Catholic school. I sometimes wonder who I would be if I wasn’t so consumed by guilt in my early life. I am certain I would have spent a lot less time hating myself and certainly a lot more time having, or least trying to have, sex. Nothing is quite as dangerous as a sexually unrepressed woman when it comes to religious indoctrination, but that’s for a different post I suppose.

I reserve all my guilt for things that are not pleasurable and then I really double down on the emotion. I let it consume me, even though nine times out of ten the guilt is unwarranted or misplaced. I have found it hard to give up guilt without being a bit of a prick. People like people who acquiesce, who apologize for things beyond their control, who take on emotions that weren’t within their control. I am very good at all of the above and therefore when I don’t do it I feel like a dick and I think others see it that way too, but maybe that’s just guilt misleading me again. How do you balance self-love with external kindness? I suppose it shouldn’t be as hard as I make it. It likely lies in finding people who offer you kindness in response. If you can find others who love you for who you genuinely are there isn’t a need to second guess yourself.

All this to say, my singular guilty pleasure is “Shake That” by Eminem feat. Nate Dogg. The song is offensive and there shouldn’t be a but, but it reminds me of drunken nights at The Wayside and bloody marys at 1am and a group kiss in the middle of a dance floor and laughing with friends I never thought I would lose touch with and all the best parts of being young and carefree. I would never play it in a group setting, but maybe explaining it I don’t feel so guilty after all.

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

[theteablogger]

The Wal-Mart Parking Lot Sex Incident

That’s a hell of a subject line, isn’t it?

I’m working on the timeline again for the first time in five fucking years. The last time I touched it, I got through the aforementioned incident and then needed a  mental health break. I did not intend for it to last this long. But a lot of big, complicated real-life things happened that kept me very busy, and when I did have any free time, sitting down with my latest embroidery project and a true crime podcast beat slogging through Andy’s old Tumblr posts hands down. I always intended to come back to it, though. Andy wrote and did some pretty fucked-up things from 2013 onward, and the fact that it was so long ago and much of it happened on Tumblr doesn’t mean that it isn’t important to know about now. There’s dogwhistle racism, rape apologism, transphobia, lies and fauxpologies galore, abusive behavior toward friends, creeping on much younger people, and more. I’m trying to be as concise as possible, but it isn’t easy. 

As sort of a preview, and to show that Part VI of the timeline really is underway, here are the entries for the Wal-Mart Parking Lot Sex Incident of March 2013. NSFW. Contains fatphobia and lookism.

2013 March 16 Andy writes that his “big problem with no” has caused him to have sex with a person he met at Wal-Mart, to whom he was not attracted in any way—in fact, he didn’t even want to talk to this person and hopes never to see her again. He says he did it “because [he] felt too guilty about how behind [he is] on [his] fanfic obligations and the fact that…[he] can’t call [his] friend when she’s sad.” This is, in my opinion, a passive-aggressive means of making people feel guilty for wanting anything from him as a writer or a friend. He claims that he has a history of doing things like this not because he needs validation, but because he selflessly wants to validate other people and give them pleasure. This story is questionable, to say the least.

Andy receives two anonymous asks that point out that he’d never mentioned his alleged history of ill-judged one night stands until he started watching SPN and started over-identifying with Dean. He responds by taking offense on Dean’s behalf and his own, invoking Brittany’s murder, and claiming that the sexual encounter at Wal-Mart was “in fucky consent territory”.

When an anon asks why Andy feels that the sexual encounter at Wal-Mart was not consensual, he replies, “Because I said yes but I didn’t actually want it. It was consent, but not good consent.” It is unclear whether he means that the other person was in some way responsible for this. He then guilt-trips the anon as if they had accused him of lying.

As he begins to receive more critical asks about the Wal-Mart story, Andy attempts to shame people into shutting up and leaving him alone. He gives a litany of reasons why he’s having a hard time emotionally, including

the loss (six months ago) of the box of his and Brittany’s “important things” that he left in South Dakota and made no attempt to retrieve for over two months

his failure to finish writing A Peccatis

not many people reading his DAYDverse fics anymore

having his phone cut off because…

he gave all his money to a friend (guilt trip!) and can’t pay the bill

two of his family’s cats died within the last few months and his fish also just died

he’s supposedly banned from GISHWHES and conventions because someone told Misha’s “people” and Creation Entertainment that he’s a con artist

his sister is visiting

he’s having a hard time writing SPN meta at the moment

He also expands on the story, saying that he performed oral sex in the parking lot, on a person “[he] could hardly stand to look [at] who stank and oozed stuff under their gut fold”. This is quite a troubling description, coming from someone who claims to be “pan-aesthetic” and to have love and compassion for literally everyone in the world. It hits on three very harmful stereotypes: that fat people are ugly and undesirable, that they stink, and that they have terrible hygiene. This is fat-shaming, and it’s all the more disturbing given that he has a number of close female friends (current and former) who are plus-size. Andy also alleges that this mystery woman thought he was sixteen, which would indicate that she is an ephebophile. It’s worth noting that he seems to have a preoccupation with looking young (sometimes complaining about it and sometimes boasting), and has said that “no non-ephebophilic woman in [his] own age range would consider [him] a sexual being.”

March 17 CFC reassures Andy that he can still get back on the “no wagon” and move on with life. He responds that at least he did “make someone feel more worthwhile and valued,” glossing over the fact that according to his story, he was violently repulsed by this woman during the whole of their interaction, and afterward fat-shamed her on the internet. If the story is true, then at best, what he gave her was disgusted pity.

In response to an anon challenging the veracity of the Wal-Mart story, Andy provides more detail, which only makes the story more implausible and makes him look worse. Allegedly, a conversation about non-dairy milk substitutes turned into a grown woman, a stranger, pouring out her heart to Andy, who immediately told her (not “asked”, told) that they were going to have coffee right then and there so she could tell him more. While an earlier post seemed to indicate that this woman thought he was sixteen when they had sex, he now says that she made the comment about his age before they had coffee together, and he told her he was about twice that age. He says, “She felt unwantable, like…she’d never be someone who someone else could desire.” So Andy, the savior of women’s self-esteem, had oral sex with her in the parking lot in order to “make her feel like she mattered.” Then he came home and informed the internet that she was right, and the whole time he was with her, he secretly thought she was hideously ugly, smelly, and unwashed. “Happens to me all the time,” he says.

March 18 Someone calls Andy out for fat-shaming the woman he allegedly had sex with at Wal-Mart. Andy tells them that actually, the story wasn’t fat-shaming at all, and he immediately suggests that the anon is truly at fault. But the anon doesn’t say that a bad smell and “stuff oozing from under their gut fold” are “inevitable on larger women”, or that Andy “find[s] larger women gross”—Andy brings those ideas up on his own. This, and his patting himself on the back for finding some fat women attractive, are meant to shift attention away from the fact that Andy is the one who used harmful stereotypes to describe the Wal-Mart lady in the most unflattering terms possible.

[plush-rabbit]

Sleeping With Simeon

Request: So because I only trust your representation of Simeon, do u think he would b into somno? Or do you think he would feel violated/taking advantage of MC?

Warnings: Somno

A/N: quick thing because could not get this out of my head and honestly, a fic of this is defs something im gonna work on because somno?? guilt?? angels?? Sign me up) (also i kept this gn but i do use the word breast so yeah!!

For Simeon to take advantage of you when you are unconscious is something that he feels so guilty for. Guilt will eat away at him, break his bones and make him so nervous that he fears he won’t ever be able to look at you again. But he doesn’t tell you or anyone of his sins. He’s remorseful, of course he is, he’s taking advantage of you when he hasn’t had your consent but it just feels so good to be inside of you. You’re so careful with his purity- always making sure that things don’t go to far, always stopping him when his hands start to wander near your sex- and he’s grateful for it but it’s frustrating all at the same time.

At first Simeon doesn’t even notice what he’s begun to think and to want. It’s lustful thinking that a part of him wants to blame Asmodeus or even Solomon. He wants to blame his surroundings for the imperfections in his being, but he knows it isn’t that. It’s something deeper, something much more primal that scares the angel just a bit. He just thinks about you. He thinks of your naked body, how warn you feel when you press yourself against him, and how soft your lips are, the fluidity of your tongue. He can’t help himself when his hand is fisted around his cock, as he bites into the back of his hand to muffle his moans as he thinks of how good you would look on your knees, your eyes wide and lips parted with his cockhead.

He has to be careful with his prayers because despite not being under the constant watch of God, he knows that his prayers must be heard by someone. His hands are clasped together, the rosary between his closed psalm as he murmurs under his breath, chest raising and dipping, each breath more raspy than the last. He’s close to temptation, eager and salivating, as he watches you enter his room and comfort him. It’s an odd touch even though you’ve touched him multiple times. Your hands curved over his shoulders, your lips close to his face that he can smell the sweetness on your tongue from dessert and he doesn’t know what’s changed for you to be so close and for him to want nothing more than to bury himself in your chest, and cup a breast. He wants to feel you under him, but for now, he rests his head on your shoulder with a heavy breath and unblinking eyes.

It’s a low night for him. He doesn’t know how he’s managed to stray from you for so long, but he’s done it despite how hard you’ve made it. He hears you pleasure yourself in the shower, his back against the wooden door and his hands playing with himself, trying to match the movements to yoru sounds. You whimper and whine, murmuring curses under your breath and he can picture your skin- glistening and flushed, your heart racing as your hand plays with your sex. A part of him feels anger for hearing you play with yourself- is he not enough? He’s right outside, you could have called him, but you chose to keep your own sins behind closed doors- and so close to him. You must know what you’re doing. Another part of him is grateful that you’ve decided to do this so close to him- almost as if you were giving him a treat.

When you exit the shower, you don’t speak a word of your actions and neither does he. He wonders if you know that he could hear you. He just wants to get this night over with already. He wants to sleep and hopefully when he wakes up, you’ll be gone for him to pleasure himself. He watches you slip into bed, ignores how he can smell your sex still aching with arousal, and he places himself beside you. You’re quick to curl up beside him with your bare leg against his while you kiss his shoulder and tell him goodnight. You sleep in an oversized shirt- one that belonged to him but he gave to you.

Long after you’ve fallen asleep, you haven’t moved your leg away from him. You jerk in your sleep pushing closer to him and he’s still awake. He can hear your breaths- slow and deep, a signal that you are in deep sleep and that you won’t be awakened. If he closes his eyes, he can hear your more ragged breaths. He grows hard even with his wishful thinking, and when he calls your name, you don’t respond to him. His mind rushes with worry, thoughts invading his mind in a dark room only occupied by you and him. He lets his hand wander to the outside of his pajama pants and palms himself through the fabric. Perhaps pleasuring himself beside you would be enough but it isn’t and it’s late and he’s just tired of waiting, and he gives into sin.

You’re deep into sleep when he begins to rut himself against you. It’s a friction that just so much in such a short period of time. You’re much softer around your thighs, your skin supple and letting him press deeper into you. He’s rapid, pushing himself against you and even long after he’s reached his high, he can’t stop his movements. He’s desperate to feel you, so eager to finally be close to you that after a few minutes, he’s reached his high and even then he isn’t satisfied. You’re against him, sleeping and body already pleasured, that it makes sense for him to slip into you, to turn you on your back and hover above you with a pulsing erection that dribbles his semen onto your tummy.

He’s alone and awake with these thoughts, lust so ingrained in him that any of his worries have finally left him. No longer in Father’s vision, he has free will to do what he wants- to finally give him and take what is his. He’s weak, and with tears in his eyes- whether from guilt or from pleasure- he gives in. His cock is placed between your thighs, his hands clammy as they close them together over his cock, letting himself take pleasure in how warm and soft they feel around him. It’s a loving hug that he had never had the opportunity to feel. He’s above you, head hidden into the crook of your neck, begging in his mind that you don’t awaken to find this image of him taking advantage of you. His breath is warm against your neck, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips only to meet your neck, feeling the pulsing pint of your beating heart. His cock is warmed by your thighs, his seed spreading thin against you.

Against his better judgement, he turns you over and slips off your undergarments, letting your sex finally breath. He spreads you before him, your hole stretching out and under the pale moonlight, he can see the pink flesh that calls to him. His spit glistens on your skin, slipping inside of you and his cock throbs in want. Under his breath, he curses, his head dipping down as he slips into you. You’re much tighter than he would have thought- your walls clinging to him and molding to his shape. He pushes himself to the base, his eyes fluttering to a close and he regrets not doing this sooner. He realizes why falling for humans is so taboo- nothing could ever compare to your gummy walls that close around his cock, that pull him deeper with every thrust, the way that you whine and shift, how your hole clenches around him with every movement. He wishes that you were awake, to see your face scrunch and your hands clench around his arms begging for him to push himself deeper.

His seed fills you, spilling out and sticking to his cock in heavy strands when he pulls out. He huffs, his hands on your thighs, watching your hole twitch and spill out more of him. Simeon leans over and tilts your head, kissing your cheek and cupping your weeping sex. With careful hands, he cleans you, removing any trace of what he’s done and letting the night only be a memory to him. At the cusp of sleep, the guilt settles in and he brings you close, feeling your hands go to find him and hold him tight in your grasp. He whispers an apology to you, and tries to ignore the satisfaction that makes his heart race.

[nc3rdeye]

Attempting to be the Phoenix.....

Over the course of the past 5 months, I have experienced the full spectrum of emotions; of Life. 

I had the unenviable experience of witnessing my father take his last breath in a hospital bed. This has effected and affected me in so many ways!! It’s quite clear that it has mind-fucked me since August 15th. My mother, naturally, is having the toughest time; her partner in crime (so to speak), her best friend, her defender, her lover, and her confidant is now gone. Back in 2006, we thought we lost him to a heart attack and stroke. He bested the experts by living 3x longer than they had predicted. They said he would never play golf again, never drive a car again, never fully understand and comprehend his surroundings again ...... all of which he proved them so very fucking wrong. 

I was not prepare”d for that experience then, and I eventually found a home in the bottom of bottles and 5-pointed leaves, more than what I was already doing at the time. In the past 16 years, we (as a family) repaired burnt bridges and became strong as fuck. 

I’m an only child. I’ve never married, never had children ...... I’ve felt guilty so many years that I had not provided my folks the luxury and pleasure of becoming grandparents. But in the past 16 years, we’ve discussed this amongst the 3 of us - them always comforting the guilt I felt by saying that isn’t what’s important; only your happiness is important to us. That quelled my guilt, though it’s always lain dormant in me. 

Now; my hindsight tells me to focus on his words, his love, his appreciation of me being his progeny. Now; I’m finding it so difficult to “be”. I’ve had to be the stoic figure for my mother ..... this is the most fragile I’ve ever experienced her. She naturally breaks down on the phone with me and I find myself having to get off of the phone immediately after attempting to comfort her. 

I have to stay strong-minded, not weak-willed; because, this is what he instilled in me from a young age. I don’t know why I am expressing this in a public forum other than viewing Tumblr as a scrapbook, a journal, a visual representation of what I have become due to the lessons and characteristics that they provided. 

I have expressed much of this to other family members, my friends (brothers and sisters from other mothers n fathers); but for some reason it feels like a release to let people i’ve never met know the emotions and scenarios I am experiencing. 

If you’ve read this far; thank you, I appreciate you.

My heart is broken; my mother is fully broken ....... and I am having such a difficult time attempting to repair us. I don’t give up; rather I just give in to trying to survive day to day. 

This birthday of mine on November 5th will be the worst I’ve every experienced; I just don’t fucking care about it other than feeling my fucking age. 

I just want this terrible fuck-all year of 2022 to end!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIFE IS SIMPLY A MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!  

[sinner-as-saint]

Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

 Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

 Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

 Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

 You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

 You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.  

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.  

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

 -End of flashback-

 Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

 “Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you��� how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

 At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

-

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”

[burnedbyshoto]

cravings & needs

— Even Natsuo has cravings and needs that demand relied even when you, his wife, is pregnant.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki natsuo x pregnant fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, pwp, pregnant!reader, pregnancy hormones, slight daddy kink, lactation, breeding kink, natsuo platonic!calls reader mommy.

word count: 2,825

a/n: i am like: breed but no pregnant. but sometimes im like: pregnant but no baby. so basically, I lose.

kinktober day 16 main kink: lactation | kinktober masterlist

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You were going to strangle Todoroki Natsuo until his face turned blue and purple.

Then you will cry.

Then you will profusely apologize as he splutters for breath.

Then you will kiss him soundly, fingers ripping his clothes off, raging hormones simmering your blood. 

Then you’ll shove him off of you, calm once again, and ask if he wanted to go get some ice cream as his pale skin flushed red.

To say the least, you absolutely hated your stupid, good for nothing, utterly super-fertile husband who just had to carry the Todoroki breeding kink gene. You were nine months pregnant, nine months after finally agreeing that both of you were ready for children. Your belly was so large and swollen with your future son that you often cried when seeing yourself in the mirror. Not because you were insecure, but because you didn’t think the skin on your stomach should stretch that much.

“Are you sure he won’t accidentally pop out of my stomach like in Alien if he presses against me too hard?” you had cried to your doctor of a husband who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be laughing or mortified of your lack of common sense.  “I promise,” Natsuo smiled, pressing a kiss to your swollen hands, but you didn’t believe him.

But your entire body hurt at the moment. Every piece of flesh and contracting muscle was swollen to its max. You didn’t feel cute. You didn’t think you were cute as you lay in your bed with a million pillows fluffed around your body because you could no longer lay on your back. Your lips were pulled into a pout, your eyes shining with tears as you sniffled.

“Natsuooooo!” you wailed, your feet kicking against the mattress pathetically, calling out to your husband, who was doing who knows what. “Natsuoooooooo!”

There wasn’t even a response back to that, and for some reason, it infuriated you. Hormone and pain-fueled anger shot through your pregnant veins as a demanding cry left your lips. “TODOROKI NATSUO!”

“Yes?!” came the distant faraway voice, the scuffing of a chair on the floor and the pittering of feet as you remained on the bed, suddenly feeling guilty and sad. “Coming!”

So when Natsuo peeked into the room, his glasses sitting on the crown of his head telling you that he was probably looking through his research, you began to bawl. You had the audacity to tell Natsuo that you weren’t crying as your face burned with your embarrassing tears and as you soaked not only your pillows but your face with your tears.

“No, no, baby, what’s wrong?” Natsuo asked his face swimming with concern and sympathy for you, his nine-month pregnant wife. He approached the bed, sitting at the edge, but that made you cry harder as you turned away from him, your back to him. You felt his hand touch your shoulder, soothing your shaking shoulders as he let you stay unresponsive as you continued to cry.

“I hate you,” you eventually spat, the guilt no longer sitting in your collection of feelings because this was his fault. You sat up on the bed, or well, tried to. You allowed Natsuo to help you into a sitting position that made his damn bastard kid sit directly on your bladder. You had just peed!

“What did I do?” Natsuo asks, his mouth twitching in that annoying way that told you he was trying to take you seriously, but given all your outbursts lately, his expectations were low.

“You put this stupid fucking bastard demon little fucking shit in my stomach!” you raged, grabbing him by his collar and shoving his face to your stomach where the stupid kid was trying to play open the damn piñata on your stomach! “He has been in here for nine-months too long. My entire body hurts, and my tits feel like they’re about to fucking explode with this milk I fucking can’t even fucking save because this little shit isn’t coming for two more weeks. I want him gone. I want your stupid fucking little not so cute breeding kink demolished,” you hissed, your eyes glaring into his grey eyes that glistened with emotions that made the raging fire of hatred and anger flicker and evolve into one that went straight to your cunt. Fuck.

“You don’t like being pregnant?” Natsuo asked, his hands slipping under yours and manages to push them off of his person. Your mouth runs dry as you stare into his darkened eyes, and you’re subject to his thoughts and actions as your sore back comes in contact with your pillows. His voice is in a soft drawl, each word coming out slow and thick like honey. “Fuck, baby, that’s too bad because you look so fucking bred with my son. You have no idea how excited I get whenever people get to see my pregnant little wife, stuffed with my child.”

His lips are brushing against your collarbone as he says that, the heat of his breath making you pant. Your fingers curl into his shirt, your mewls pathetic and needy.

Stupid fucking hormones. 

“Where do you hurt most?” he asks, lips trailing down the cleavage of your swollen with milk tits.

“E-Everywhere,” you gasp when his hands slip underneath your shirt that barely fits anymore. His weathered hands trailing up the swollen mountain of your belly, you can feel the little shit in you reaching out after his touch too. “N-Natsuo! Don’t t-tease me!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my love,” Natsuo tuts as he pulls away from your collarbone, and you shiver as he manages to bring your shirt over your swollen stomach and past your aching breasts. “Do you need daddy’s cock to make you feel better? Maybe we’ll get lucky, and I can impregnate you again right now, so you don’t have to stop being my cute pregnant wife.” The thought of that sends your mind over the cliff. Realistically, you know that would be horrible, but the way his voice spoke in such a husky manner, and knowing that he is fucking obsessed with your pregnant, successfully bred body, a part of you hopes it happens. You watch with horny need and desire, ready for your husband’s mouth, fingers, and cock to please you and your horny state. But as you try to get your hands to his pants, the strain of his cock evident to you, you realize he hasn’t moved. “You’re lactating.”

You blink, and you peer down at your breasts, and you shriek at the murky white liquid dripping from your enlarged, swollen nipples. Through your entire pregnancy, you had managed to never leak milk in front of Natsuo. More often than not, you were with Fuyumi or Rei or your own family when it happened when he was at work, but for the past month, when milk was starting to leak out without your spoken permission, he had never been around. 

Natsuo tilts his head, his tongue pressing between his lips as he coyly looks up at you, grey eyes suddenly appearing jet black. 

You breathing piques.

And you don’t have the time to question why your husband looks like a predator cornering a prey as he sinks down, mouth suddenly enveloping a single nipple.

“NATSUO!” you shriek, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hot, wet mouth latched onto your nipple. 

His tongue twirled around your leaking nipples, lapping at the liquid that was coming out on its own, his hand on your other breast, keeping it upright, and you realized with a distant thought that he was somehow preventing the milk from spilling from your unlatched onto breast. You trembled under his hold, body feeling like it was being electrocuted as his teeth slowly sunk into your nipple, and he began to suck on your swollen, inflamed skin. It wasn’t anything different from how he usually sucks your breasts while the both of you fuck, but it felt to a greater degree of intensity and fervor for some reason. A rush of liquid, a slam of electricity slammed through your nerves as you wailed for Natsuo, your legs managing to hook over his waist as he sucked and sucked on your nipple.

Milk flowed from your free nipple, filling Natsuo’s mouth like a bottomless pit. Natsuo drank the sweet, warm liquid in his mouth, some of the murky fluid dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he sloppily drank you. Entirely obsessed with the taste of you.

“That’s so dirty of you!” you cried beneath him, hands weakly beating on his shoulders. “You’re so dirty, daddy! So d-dirty! You stupid, breeding idiot doctor pervert! D-Don’t you know that m-my milk isn’t — nghhh, oh my fuck, yes, yes just like that!!!! The milk — aaaahhhh!!! oh my god — the milk’s for the baby!!! N-Not… fuck, fuck, fuck, not for you!”

You tried to stare him in the eye but found the raw lust and want in his eyes to be overwhelming, your body trembling as you looked away from his gaze. The slight discomfort of having the milk being ejected from your nipple in such greedy, powerful sucks soon fades into throbbing pleasure. Your head knocked back into your once tear-stained pillows as you cry for Natsuo, the milk in your breasts leaking out even more now that there was a hungry mouth waiting to be feed. 

Your cheeks pounding with embarrassment. But you had to admit the feeling of his mouth, wholly and greedily consuming your milk made your cunt throb with heated need, and you were more than delighted to find that even in this position, your cunt ground against his hard cock.

He pulled away with a wet pop, his lips and chin absolutely wet with your milk, and you whimpered at the sight. If you knew any better by the way your breast no longer hurt, you’d say he sucked you dried.

“It’s my responsibility as a doctor, the father of your child, and your husband to make sure your milk is suitable for my child,” Natsuo calmly almost wickedly explained, his mouth suddenly against yours. “It’s my job to fulfill your body’s every little demand and need until you’re fucked and sucked satisfied.”

The sweetness of your milk suddenly invaded your mouth, and you cried at the taste of your milk.

“See,” Natsuo grinned, and you panted as he pulled away. He began to remove his pants and underwear, sliding down his boxers to reveal his beading, swollen cock, and tore your undies, unfazed by your scream of dismay as he spoke the entire time. “How can you hate when I put a baby in you. Especially when you can produce milk that fucking sweet, my love. I can’t wait to stuff you full with another kid, see you this fucking pregnant again. So soft, so cute, absolutely helpless and needy for anything and everything I can offer.”

Your cunt scorched and clenched in need, your panting, barely open eyes focusing on how Natsuo rutted his cock through your soaked folds, and how he had another hand to your other breast, pinching, almost milking your nipple.

Horny fury throbbed deep within you.

“Todoroki Natsuo, if you don’t fuck your pregnant fucking wife right now, I swear to go—aaahhhh!!! Shit, fuck!” you screamed as Natsuo’s incredibly thick cock finally entered your pulsing walls, stretching you out beyond what you were ready for as your body twisted and writhed against your pillows. Jaw slack open, tumbling heaving breathes, and half formulated curses escaping your mouth as his cock entered you.

Your eyes fluttered impossibly fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natsuo shifted his hips further into you. It seemed that while being pregnant, your cunt had become stupidly tighter, and Natsuo’s cock, which you could take without even breaking a sweat nowadays, had come to absolutely wind you like some blushing virgin as of late. 

“Shhhh, shhh,” Natsuo whispers against your cleavage, his hips rocking into you at a slow speed, teeth skimming and biting alongside your still swollen with milk tit. “Be a good mommy and let your daddy fuck you while drinking your milk, okay?”

You couldn’t even come up with an articulate word to say. Your head nodded, you think, you couldn’t even tell as his cock dragged up your walls, making your head spin just a bit as his mouth enveloped your thus far ignored nipple. 

There were moments where you felt like you’ve come to orgasm without actually orgasming. The sensation of his cock shifting in your cunt that was absolutely so tight, you could feel the pulsing veins on his cock beating against your walls with his pounding blood. But it was that wordless sensation of the milk being sucked from your swollen breast that made your toes curl with satisfying lust, the heat of his mouth, and bite of his teeth on your throbbing muscle and flesh that had your hurting hips shifting for more friction.

Pounding, blissful pleasure washed over you as the slurping noises of Natsuo greedily, hungrily drinking in your milk.

“Faster,” you cried when the not quite an orgasm faded from your skin but left a static sensation in the tips of your fingers and toes. Your hands went from his shoulders to thread and yank at his hair. “Faster, daddy, fuck me faster, drink my milk more! Do it harder, please, please, I need you more! I want to feel this more!”

And Natsuo, true to his belief what a doctor, a husband, and the father of your child should do, did what you demanded.

His hips rocked into you, the squelching noises of your wet pussy were loud and demanding. The rocking juices and essence from your legs seeping out with every rocking slam, splattering onto your lower stomach that Natsuo dutifully avoided. His mouth that was nursing on your nipple sucked and sucked; loud smacks and massive gulps you swore you could feel on your breasts made your thighs tremble with lewd need. You tugged at his hair, absolutely riveted with the way he drank you, shaken with the fact that found this attractive.

Natsuo drank your milk mouthful by mouthful, his blackened eyes piercing through you completely, making your lust haze gaze feel weak and absolutely shallow as the glinted with glee with every successive slam of his hips into your cunt. 

“Fuck, your milk is so fucking sweet,” Natsuo growls against your breast, his mouth taking a break from your breast as you pant wildly. “Gonna take all that I can before the pup shows up.”

The words curl and pulse in your core, and you can barely manage to stammer out his name at the thought of him feeding himself with your milk for the next two weeks before your child finally came. You shake with the need, your head nodding pathetically with the agreement to let him do as he wants as you slowly whine out a verbal response, but there’s no reason to answer. For when you do, your words heavy on your tongue, his teeth sink into your nipple, his cock brushes against your cervix, and the throbbing, heated pit in your stomach, so dense and heavy with your satisfied need and lust, exploded with the peaked wanton need. An orgasm ripped through your body, your heels digging into his hips as you screamed his name. Your body trembles as you can feel that all too familiar heat of his seed spilling within you, the sticky fluid swimming in you as he continues to feed on your milk.

Your nipples ache with the overstimulation, but you can’t muster anything more than a few pathetic whines as Natsuo continues to drink. He sucks and sucks and sucks until he pulls away. The final gulp of your milk loud and sends a shiver down your spine as he wipes the back of his hand to his wet lips. 

Tears somehow explode into your eyes as you stare up at your beautiful husband, who, now that his own hormones have faded looks entirely scared.

“Oh fuck, what’s wrong, my love? Do you need me to go get ice cream? I’ll get the bath running, and we can go soak—?”

“I’m s-so h-happy,” you smile, a watery grin on your face as you grab onto your husband’s jaw that is still slightly wet with your sweet milk. “You make me feel so happy, so good. You make me feel like the best person in the w-world, and I wouldn’t m-mind being pregnant with more kids as long as you keep doing that.”

Natsuo stills, his scared expression melting into one of fondness and slight cockiness, “I think I can make that work.”

[aries-writingblog]

Child’s Play

Summary: Steve is falling fast for a girl that he’s only been on a few dates with (I suck at descriptions��🏻‍♀️)

Word Count: 1968

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: none

AN: GIF is not my own, credit to original creator

“All I’m saying is that you should really consider bringing that uniform back.” She nodded, wiping her fingers delicately on her napkin. Steve cocked an eyebrow, trying not to smile too broadly. “It did wonders for you.”

Steve lowered his eyes, heat creeping onto his face. It was a good embarrassment, though. He couldn’t remember when he last laughed so hard. Even if it was at himself. He had to agree the things he did once were a little cheesy.

“You we’re supposed to pay attention to the message. The videos had a message.” He scolded lightly, dipping a fry in his ketchup. YN scoffed, stealing two fries from the plate and dunking them in her milkshake. Steve scrunched his nose in distaste.

“I was in high school, dude. And you were hot, what was I supposed to do?” She grinned as his cheeks shifted from a shade of pink to a deeper shade of maroon. “It was detention and I was bored. I had to think of something or I’d lose my mind.”

Steve tried not too think too hard about the age difference. It jarred him to take into consideration she watched the stupid patriotic videos he had to film in her high school days. He focused mainly on the present age gap of only a few years. Not the seventy year gap.

“Okay, if I see one more fry go into that milkshake, I’ll flip this table.” Steve threatened, eyeing the drink suspiciously. YN laughed, a bright giggly sound Steve had come to enjoy.

This would be their fourth date. He had the idea to take her to an old diner he’d stumbled upon. Mainly because it had been around in his day- the coffee was still outrageously disgusting. He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to keep the same flavor the whole time but the moment it touched his tongue, Steve was thrown back into his youth.

“Just try it.” She demanded, shoving her glass across the table. He lifted his eyebrows, glancing between her and the chocolate milkshake.

“Absolutely not. The fries get soggy in there- I know they do.” He explained, observing as she rolled her eyes. Slumping back into the booth in playful defeat. “You enjoy that?”

“Uh, yeah. Get with it, gramps.” She dusted her hands off, placing her phone and wallet on the table. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick- watch my stuff?”

“Yeah- of course.” Steve watched her as she stood, pulling at her shirt before starting towards the bathroom. He then turned his attention to their mostly finished plates, stacking them neatly to one side of the table.

Just as he went to catch a waitresses attention, he looked around. They were the only two customers remaining. Steve felt the guilt immediately, seeing the women cleaning around their table. They had been so distracted he had forgotten time could pass. He flicked his wrist, checking his watch. They had been at the restaurant for way too long.

YN emerged from the restroom just at the same moment he stood to approach the register. She noticed he had taken her things, tucked in his jeans pocket. So she found her way to his side, curling her arm around his and hugging it to her chest.

He finished paying, apologized several times to the wait staff for taking the booth for so long. She had brushed it off, telling him it had been a pleasure to serve Captain America himself. Steve still felt guilty, leaving a very large tip for her.

“Ready?” He asked, turning to face YN. She gave an enthusiastic nod, clinging to him as they walked to the door. He pushed it open, holding it for her.

“It’s so late- I don’t think we’ll ever catch a cab.” YN checked her phone, the time shining up at her.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s not that far, if you’re up for it?” He offered. Steve watched as she frowned at the device in her palm, the streetlight gleaming down onto her hair. Giving her face an ethereal glow, eyes sparkling. Her lipgloss was incredibly distracting- shimmering and glittering under the lights.

“Steve?” She asked. He jolted, breaking his stare as he realized he had been zoned out while she was speaking. The heat crept back into his cheeks; He never seemed to get rid of it around her. It was always lurking under his skin, readily revealing itself at any moment.

“What?” She laughed.

“I said that I’d take that escort home, if it doesn’t put you out of your way.” She repeated. Steve shook his head immediately.

“You’re never out of my way, sweetheart.” In truth, her apartment was seventeen blocks to the east of the diner. The Tower was nineteen from the diner, to the north. Steve would’ve done pretty much anything to keep her with him longer, even walk the entire length. Carry her if she wanted.

“I just don’t want to keep you.” Her hand found his forearm again, slithering down to his hand. Her fingers twined with his and he squeezed her hand gently. “You had mentioned that you had to get up early tomorrow. I don’t want to make you late.”

“It’s just some work. Nothing drastic. Can’t leave until I get there anyways.” He assured her, their sides bumping together as their strides evened out. It was practically true- it was work and it wasn’t drastic. He had to leave early for a stake out mission with Natasha. She would eventually forgive him, if not immediately. “I might be gone for a couple weeks… I’m not sure how long it will take.”

“That’s okay.” She shrugged, swinging their arms between their bodies. “Just means our next date can be even better, cause we’ll be really excited to see each other.” Steve smiled, his free hand finding his front pocket. He was always excited to see her.

They fell silent for a moment- something that didn’t happen often. YN was a regular chatterbox when she was excited. And as far as Steve could tell, she was always excited to be around him. He didn’t mind, he loved hearing her voice. Liked listening to her. Telling him fun facts, stories, asking questions, going off on tangents. It was always amusing, watching her face go through several ranges of emotions during her stories. Hands gesturing vibrantly.

“So you’re gonna let me hang around for another date?” Steve asked, risking a glance to her. A light smile on shining lips.

“I may.” She nodded. “Depends.”

“On?” Steve pressed, nudging her with his elbow. YN pursed her lips, feigning concentration with her eyes rolling to the side.

“Well, if I finally get a good night kiss I might let you stick around.” She teased. Steve chuckled, shaking his head. He’d wanted to kiss her the first night, but didn’t want to scare her away. He was still unsure on twenty first century mannerisms, caught in between the centuries. Wanting to move into the current for her, but clinging onto the values instilled in him growing up. Remembering the awkward dates he had with girls. How he never really knew what to do.

But now that she had mentioned it, Steve figured it would be safe to push his luck.

Suddenly, YN gasped and yanked his hand- jeering off course. His feet hit grass as she released his hand. Steve looked up, seeing a playground laid out before them.

“What are you doing?” He followed her at a slower pace, watching as she leapt up. Hands catching on a set of horizontal bars. She twisted upward, hanging down by her knees.

“What- you’ve never played on a playground at midnight before?” She demanded, pushing her shirt back down. Steve laughed, standing in front of her, hands on his hips.

“Not that I can remember.” She released her hold on her shirt, hands reaching out to him. The fabric fell back down, bunching around her chest. A snippet of her dark red bra peeking over the edge. Steve snatched the end and shoved it back upward, covering her torso. “You’re gonna get hurt, YN.”

“Not if I have a superhero boyfriend here to save me.” She argued, leaning back up to take the bars. “Come on, Stevie- let loose for a while.”

He sighed, meeting her eyes as she turned herself right side up. Dangling by her hands. She gave him a pout, eyes twinkling in the park lights.

Steve stepped to her left, tucking his loose t shirt into his belt. Ensuring his hands were clasped tightly around the metal bars before pulling himself up and hanging beside her.

“There you go, now- pull your feet up and hook your knees around a bar and you can hang.” She instructed, then quickly giving him a visual reenactment. He picked it up easily, releasing his grip and turning his body upside down to hang beside hers. “You’re doing it!”

YN wiggled her body happily, figure swinging wildly. Steve reached out, hands on her waist to steady her, worried she would tilt or lose her grip.

“Take it easy, YN.” He squeezed her hips as she laughed. “I don’t think a date should end with an emergency room visit.”

“Then you definitely haven’t been on a really good date.”

“Should I be worried about that statement?”

“I wouldn’t think about it too hard.”

“Oh, for sure.” He smiled, feeling the blood begin to rush to his head. His face felt tingly as he hung beside her, pins and needles pricking at his skin. “We should probably start back, it’s getting late-“

Steve felt her hands grasp his shirt, pulling him closer. YN’s lips brushed against his before planting firmly. He grunted in surprise, hands clasped to his chest, between hers. She moved her lips slowly, gently. He could taste her lip gloss- mix of cherry and vanilla flooding his system with error messages. Brain flashing a ‘vacant’ sign before his consciousness.

“I don’t know if you’re a really good kisser or if all my blood rushed to my head but I’m really lightheaded.” She murmured, not even allowing him to go far as she spoke, lips still touching.

His wide blue eyes stared gleefully into hers, swinging himself down to his feet. Reaching to help her back to the ground next. YN huffed, readjusting her shirt before leaning to pick up her phone that had slid from her pocket whilst upside down.

“Y’know, I think my research isn’t complete yet- still not sure which caused the lightheadedness.” She pressed a finger to her lips, the gloss smudged down her chin. Steve narrowed his eyes at her grin.

“Now you’re just trying to get me to kiss you.” He clarified, able to see through her actions easily. She shrugged, as if to say ‘you caught me!’

“Only if it’s working.”

Steve chuckled, one hand grasping the back of her neck while the other found a place on her waist. Pulling her body to his. She stumbled forward, colliding with his chest as he angled her mouth up to his. Leaning down to meet her height. He pressed them together, cradling her body. His fingers tangled in her hair. YN’s fingers curled into his shirt, finding purchase in the fabric. He felt her lips curl upward in a smile, still pressed to his.

He pulled back, keeping his eyes on her face as he did. A happy, dazed smile on her features- eyes crinkled in the corners. Her fingers drummed against his chest in time with his heartbeat as she ripped herself away. Breaking into a full sprint across the grassy playground.

“Race you to the swings!” She shouted over her shoulder, feet pounding the ground.

Steve chuckled. For once, he didn’t feel the need to be an adult, to be the mature, responsible one. He could turn everything off- even if only for a few minutes. Even if it was something as simple as sprinting across a playground with a girl that was slowly changing his life and perspective. He decided he liked that feeling.

“You asked for it, sweetheart!”