#though thankfully it's not the image used here

[herecomesthementalmeltdown]

This is a misconception, if not misinfo. Esther Jones never sued Fleischer, Helen Kane did. Fleischer responded by saying that the singing style was not Kane's creation, instead Esther's.

There is also little to no evidence that Betty Boop was inspired by this performer.

EDIT: I'm sleepy right now so I'll try to keep this short. I'm making this edit so people understand my point. There's no evidence that anything other than the singing style of Betty Boop was taken from Jones, and there's a very good chance there were other performers with that style which Max Fleischer could've taken from before knowing it started with Esther Jones. It's even possible that he found the originator while in the discovery phase for Kane v. Fleischer.

I did not know that.

[jobean12-blog]

Back in my Arms

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,173

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is still new and even though the feelings are deep it's hard to put a label on it but when something goes wrong while he's out on a mission you realize just how much he means to you.

Author's Note: Because who wouldn't miss Bucky and worry about him when he's out saving the world? Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some worry and angst to start, soft and sweet fluff that turns to sexy times quick, semi-public se-x sorta :D

The loud ringing of your phone startles you from sleep and you sit up with a jolt. Searching the night table with a sweep of your hand you knock several things off but finally wrap your fingers around your phone.

“Hello,” you grumble sleepily.

“You were asleep.”

Your best friend’s uneasy voice comes through in a whisper and your heart starts to thump harder against your ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Babe…”

You sit up straighter and throw the covers off. “What?”

“They aren’t giving us any details but I just saw the news…”

“What?” you repeat and press your hand to your chest.

“It looks like the team is back but something went wrong.”

“Did you hear anything about Bucky?”

Your voice is shaky as you frantically search your room for clothes.

“No names but…”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m sure he’s fine babe,” she assures you even as her voice waivers. “But don’t turn on the TV or look at anything on your phone. Did he call?”

You slowly pull the phone away from your ear and check your messages.

Nothing.

You look at your missed calls and voicemail.

Still nothing.

When you hear your friend calling your name you place the phone back to your ear and whisper, “nothing.”

“It’s Bucky…he’s fine.”

“Okay. He has to be fine. I mean…technically I’m not his girlfriend. I can’t just rush over there and check on him, can I?”

“What you meant to say is, ‘you’re not his girlfriend yet,’ and who’s going to stop you?”

You nod as you start to pull on some clothes.

“I have to go. I’ll call you soon.”

With a few more reassuring words your best friend hangs up and you rush into the bathroom to make yourself presentable and then throw on Bucky’s Henley. The one you maybe forgot to return before he left for the mission.

Trying your best not to picture the worst in your head you run out of your apartment building and hail wildly for a cab.

Once inside your feet bounce along the floor and your hands are clasped tightly together in your lap as you silently will the driver to go faster.

When the cab pulls up to the tower you throw money into the front seat with a stilted ‘thank you’ and will yourself to take steady breaths.

Friday greets you and lets you in, directing you to the med bay on the lower floor.

Heart in your throat you creep out of the elevator and look left and right. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet and you step out.

“Doll?”

You whirl around at the sound of Bucky’s voice.

He’s standing there in his dark jeans that are painted on, his soft shirt rolled up to the elbows and his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. The fluorescent lighting gleams off his metal arm and you hear his fingers tighten into a fist.

“Oh good,” you whisper as his image blurs. “You’re okay.”

You try not to sniffle and keep your hands at your sides.

“I heard there was some trouble, so I…I figured I would come and check on you. And the rest of the team.”

“You came to check on me?”

His raspy voice sends a tremble down your spine.

“Yes.”

He takes a step closer.

“Is that my shirt doll face?”

“Oh…,” you grab the hem and finger the soft material.

“Doll…please. Please come here.”

You back up a step, hitting the elevator door. “I…I was so worried.”

His swallow is audible and you watch the muscles in his neck shift.

“I would have called but my phone is busted and I had to make sure Sam was ok.”

“Is Sam ok?” you ask, suddenly breathless again.

“Thankfully he’s going to be fine. Just needs some time.”

You nod and let out a shaky breath. He approaches slowly, dropping his jacket to the floor and holding his arms out for you.

“Doll…please. Come here. Let me kiss you. It’s all I’ve wanted to do for the past three weeks.”

Your whispered “okay,” can barely be heard above your breathing but the second he’s close enough you launch yourself into his arms.

He wraps you up tightly, your slight shakes making him coo softly in your ear as he smooths his hands along your back and kisses your head.

“Oh doll,” he whispers. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Your face presses into his chest and you inhale.

When his hand slides higher and wraps around the back of your neck he brings your eyes to his, their gaze falling to your mouth before he closes the distance, crashing his lips to yours.   

Your broken moan makes him press you impossibly closer, needing to feel all of you.

He growls your name and takes two steps backward, pinning you against the wall. His lips trail down your neck and then back up until they meet your earlobe.

“I can’t fuck you here doll. But if we don’t stop that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“I need you now,” you plead, dragging your fingers through his hair. “Now Bucky. Please. I can’t wait.”

You’ve barely got the words out when he lifts you into his arms and starts to move down the hallway. You pull on his shirt and wrap your legs around his waist, rocking your hips against his.

His hand reaches out to feel for a doorknob and he kicks open the door to an old med room. You slide down his body and onto the floor as he reaches behind him to turn the lock.

Your fingers slip under his shirt and you run your fingernails over his abs as he walks you backward toward the wall.

“Take his off. Please. I need to feel you.”

“That’s my line doll,” he murmurs.

The urgency in your touch is nearly his undoing and between kisses he fumbles with your leggings, groaning when he slips his hand between your legs and feels the soaked fabric of your panties.

With a rip they float to the floor and he spreads your legs apart with his knee. You push his pants down and free him, taking him in your hand and guiding him closer.

He stills, trying to focus on his breathing and garner some semblance of control.

“Rough Bucky. I want it hard and rough.”

There goes any chance he had of holding onto control.

He fills you in one swift stroke and you bite back a scream, moaning into his hand when he covers your mouth.

“I thought about you the whole fucking time we were gone. I never stopped.”

He drops his hand to hear you whine his name in response and he slows the movement of his hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he groans.

You inhale and curl your fingers into his skin.

“I missed you.”

He grabs your ass and lifts you higher, angling your hips so he can go deeper.

“Say it again,” he demands.

“Missed you Bucky. I missed you so much.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @kmc1989 @goldylions @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Zombie + Restoration Hobbyist Reader Blurb

-

"Blink once if you can hear me."

It calls to them from the darkness - a voice melancholic yet strangely robotic in its application. It's familiar - like something they've heard in a dream. They can't move. Their arms feel as though they're pinned beneath boulders. Their legs feel weightless. The place in their mouth were their tongue sat felt dry and... exposed. Left with no other choice, their eyelids flicker upwards. The flesh over their right eye feels to be constructed of foreign tissue - metal scrapping over the weight in the socket where their eye once was. The image of the figure standing over them is fleeting, lips pulled thin in an expression of approval.

"Blink twice."

Their eyes flutter open for a second time - remaining there as two finger pry apart the lids of their still functioning eye.

"Good. It's fortunate that you are still able to hear. At the moment, my fixes are merely cosmetic so I'm afraid you won't be able to see out of that eye of yours for some time. If you are like other patients I've had the issue will work out on its own."

Their eye rolls idly in their head - struggling to make out any features of the person through the blazing lights overhead.

"You must have questions. Forgive me- I wasn't expecting you to wake up before I had time to work on your jaw. Please use this to communicate if you wish, you can ask me anything."

Function to their left hand returns - their wrist raw and lacking the binding weight shacking it in place. Restraints? Smooth plastic rolls beneath their fingertip as they flex the stiff joints of their digits. Their fingers trace out the rectangular shape of the keyboard's space bar. Gliding gracelessly over the keys, a hand helps stabilize their moments as they begin to type. A computer monitor awakens from its sleep as words pop up on its screen.

"Where am I?"

A common question. "You are in my workplace. I repair things from time to time to keep myself busy. I found you in a creek nearby during a stroll the other night. Thankfully, you hadn't been in there long or I would've had to replace more than the skin of your eye."

Their hand draws up to their eye, feeling the odd texture over their eye. It's felt.

"I hate to bring up any bad memories from the past, but I need to ask in order to provide you with the care you require. Do you remember anything from the day you died?"

Died?... That's... honestly not the most surprising thing about this ordeal. A stabbing pain blisters at the back of their mind as they try to remember. A boat. A shotgun. Laughter. Tears. Please, no. It's not funny just put it down. Please. please-

"Boating trip. They said if I tagged along I could finally be apart of their group. I thought I could trust them. They said they were my friends. They said"

Their body lurches forward - fighting against the bite of their bonds. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why are they still here? Garbble wails ricochet off the bedroom walls. In their time of misery, another memory rushes to the forefront of their mind. Their body convulsing on an operating table. The gentle hushes of another as they pet back their hair - drying blackened tears from the corners of their eyes. A compassionate hand from the world that had abandoned them when they needed someone most.

"Hold me."

"What?"

"I remember.. Arms around me. A voice calling out to me. Promising me everything would be okay. That was you - right? Hold me. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't let me be alone anymore."

The hobbyist removes the glove from their dominant hand, wiping the leathery flesh were thick, congealing tears pool. You pull your newest patient closer - mindful of their stitches as you rub small circles along their spine.

"You can stay here as long as you like. While I'm not the most social person, I can't turn away someone who needs my assistance."

Their sobs are reduced to small whimpers as they cling into you - dying your apron in various fluids as their arm locks around your midsection in a vice grip. You grab onto their other wrist, preventing them from wrestling it out of their chains leaving you with more work in the future if their skin were to tear.

"I know this is a lot for you, but please try not to damage yourself further."

Their arm drops from your waist - fingers flying over the keyboard on a flurry.

"What's your name?"

"My name?... You can just call me Y/n."

[marypaol]

Skin To Skin

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of Draco knowing who his soulmate is, yet he can’t bear to face her.

Warnings: Teasing, Boggarts, mention of fears, mention of the Hospital Wing, the Weasley twins being themselves, etc.

Note: This is Part 2 of “Copy Of A Copy”, so check it out before you read this! (And I’m sorry if this one is bad)

Copy Of A Copy

Masterlist

Request Reauirements

This person believed in me so here you go! : @theomalfoy

Draco wasn’t the want-everything-to-go-back-to-the-way-it-was-after-complaining-about-it-type.

Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But he knew deep down that he did want everything to go back to the way they were, because every time he looked at his hand, that deep red spot of irritated skin was slowly fading away and he wanted to find a reason to create it again.

She’d stopped drawing. And normally Draco would find that a good thing; now he didn’t have to harshly wipe them off and be left an embarrassing red spot on his hand. But he found himself thinking back on how the drawings actually looked good, despite him being annoyed at the fact they repeatedly showed up on his skin, and he wanted them back. Which, of course, sounds ridiculous if you were to look back on how he acted towards the other drawings that previously showed up on his hand.

But he missed it. Missed watching the lines form one by one, letting him know she existed. He even couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind, ever since he saw her in Care of Magical Creatures. He couldn’t help but think she was decently pretty.

Draco’s hand has unwanted sweat on it so he harshly wiped it on his robes, a disgusted expression lying on his lips. He knew the reason for the sweat though, his quill once again hovering over his skin, the same skin he used to aggressively rub almost everyday as his soulmate drew mindless doodles on her hand.

He dipped the quill tip in the ink, the noises of everyone scattering about being the last thing on his mind, in fact the occasional “SHH!” from Madam Irma Prince was quite helpful to encourage him to focus once the students followed her orders.

He sighed softly, taking a deep breath while staring stupidly at his pale skin he was about to ruin.

He leaned down, the quill tip making contact with his hand two times, forming two dots. Those were eyes, he decided, and drew a straight line below them, making a face that represented him at the moment. His eyes were full yet his lips held uncertainty, hesitant to do this.

Once it was over it didn’t seem so bad anymore, as long as he could manage to hide it from Crabbe and Goyle. The thought of them teasing him about it, teasing him about actually writing back on his skin was unbearable. He could only hope that they don’t stare at his hand.

“Don’t be scared now, it’s just a Boggart.” Professor Lupin explained, his wand held with two hands, a grip on each end.

“Now, Boggarts like tight dark places, and I found this one in the wardrobe yesterday. I asked Dumbledore if we could use it for the lesson and thankfully he said yes. Now, does anyone know what a Boggart looks like?”

The usual hand of Hermione Granger was shot up at the speed of lightning, and once she was called on, she answered not only the right answer but was awarded points for her House.

“No one knows, sir. It takes form of the deepest fear of whomever it faces.”

“Correct, Ms. Granger.” Lupin said, smiling while Granger went slightly pink.

Draco rolled his eyes, irritation seeming to be boiling within them.

“But, everyone, we have an advantage against this creature. And that is?”

“There’s so many of us, it doesn’t know what to turn into?” Potter answered, and Lupin replied with a smile, and awarded more points to Gryiffindor.

“Exactly!” Lupin exclaimed. “Now, though, there is a way to get past a Boggart. And that spell is Riddikulus!” Lupin said, doing the hand movement with the one that possessed his wand. “Say it with me now…”

“Riddikulus!” The class said together.

“This class is ridiculous.” Draco mutters under his breath, Crabbe nodding in agreement beside him while he heard a snuffled laugh somewhere near. His head swerved and he spotted the same girl he saw in Hagrid’s class, trying not to smirk at his joke. He found a smirk coming to his own lips, proud of himself.

“They feed on fear, so think of what you fear the most, and turn it into something funny.” Lupin once again explained, and brought up Neville as a demonstration. “Now, Neville, tell me, what do you fear the most?”

“P-professor Snape.” the boy mumbled, having to repeat the same thing again but a little louder since the Professor didn’t hear him.

“Ahh.” Lupin said amusingly once the name was repeated. “I suppose he does intimidate us all in some way.”

There was a pause before Lupin continued to project to the class, for he was having a quiet conversation with the student before him. “Now Neville, I want you to think of your Grandmother’s clothes very clearly in your mind, can you do that?”

Neville nodded, shaking in his shoes. The door opened and Snape stepped out, looking normal as ever like you’d see him everyday but Neville was scared.

“Wand at the ready!” Lupin reminded, Neville held his wand up and squeaked, “Riddikulus!”

Snape seemed to spin around and he soon found himself in Neville Longbottom’s Grandmother’s clothes, a red handbag on his right arm.

The class laughed, Neville’s face slowly turned into an expression of relief.

Draco scoffed basically the whole time, not ending up actually facing the Boggart but watching as his peers did.

Weasley was practically having a seizure as he faced the spider, helplessly whimpering the spell causing the spider to have roller skates, legs swinging everywhere.

Draco couldn’t help but be curious on what the girl’s fear was, but she didn’t end up facing it just like him.

There was an exited buzz in the air as the students left class, each of them wanting recognition for how brave they were while facing their biggest fears.

“-did you see how I faced that snake-”

“-just said the spell and it went, pop!-”

“-the spider was huge!-”

“-never seen that kind of creature before-”

Draco grumbled angrily, grabbing Crabbe and Goyle’s arms and leading them out to the courtyard in front of the Black Lake.

“That was stupid. Why did he let us do that anyway, and for Dumbledore to give permission…wait til by father hears of this.” He mumbled, looking down and adjusting his arm bandages, thinking back when he insulted the Hippogriff. (He still didn’t regret it, the creature did look kinda ugly to him.)

“Right. We should owl him right away.” Crabbe suggested.

Draco looked up from his arm, eyes flaring. “‘We?!’ I’ll do it. It’s my father after all.”

His friends nodded, Crabbe going pink in the ears.

Goyle’s eyes then shot to Draco’s hand. “Ha! What’s that, Malfoy?”

Draco acted confused, and looking down, acted like he’d seen it for the first time. He pretended to look disgusted. “Gross I tell you, I’ll wash it off later.” He said, looking back at them. Both pair of eyes were still on him.

“Well? What are you looking at?” He snarled, and that seemed to do the trick, both heads bending down as they suddenly found interest in the grass.

“Do this Potion before you leave class, and then a portion of it on my desk with your name on it.”

Snake’s sharp voice echoed through the dark classroom, his gaze seeming to meet all of their eyes before he turned around, adding one last part of his instructions in the black board and heading to his desk, long nose lurking over the surface covered in parchment.

The girl sighed, opening the book to the page instructed and starting to chop the first ingredient. She liked to think of herself good at Potions, but sometimes little things like the reactants would mix up in her mind. But nonetheless if she focused hard enough and followed each step carefully, than she was proud to say that she could do it almost perfectly.

It was only then that she noticed the black markings on the back of her hand, and, looking more closely by bringing up her hand to her face, saw it was a smiley face. It looked smeared a little and the lines were wobbly, but she liked it since she wasn’t the one to draw it.

Scurrying through her bag pretending she was looking for something important, grabbed a quill and dipped it in another student’s ink when they weren’t looking. Then, turning back to her hand and covering it behind her cauldron so the nosy Professor wouldn’t see, drew two eyes next to his, a soft smile beneath it to show her gratitude. He didn’t do much, just too dots and a line, but the reason was all that mattered to her.

She just knew that he missed her somewhat forms of affection, so he acted upon himself to continue it.

“Ridiculous, I tell you, why’d he look at me like that? The audacity of some peop-”

“Sorry.”

Draco didn’t realize he ran into someone else, too busy rambling to himself about an annoying First Year who glared at him out of nowhere to notice his body ran into another. It ended up being a Third Year Hufflepuff, quickly scurrying around the corner to avoid the Slytherin.

Draco rolled his eyes, turning back to the direction he was going and continuing to walk to the Common Room. He muttered the password, climbing into the space full of couches and chairs, all in front of a burning fire, flames high and bright, full of color.

He sat down on one of the chairs, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle to get back from the Hospital Wing; the Weasley twins caught them in the hallway, convinced them to eat some candy, and now their faces were covered in red dots that got bigger by the second. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes at the news when Madame told him before making his way to the room.

He currently sat with a Potions book in his hands, long fingers running across the pages that helped his eyes read it better.

He turned the page, but the page he turned got caught on his robes, and, using his left hand, went to fix it before he froze. On his left wrist, he had another smile face beside the one he drew, this one with an actual smile this time not a straight line like his.

He fought a grin that was threatening to pull the corners of his lips, reaching over to pull his robe sleeve over it so no one could see.

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy!

Person I think would like this: @dunningz :)

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 3

phone sex - oikawa tooru x reader

word count: 1,061

kinktober masterlist

The hallway was alive with chatter, and you were sure you would have missed your phone ringing in the noise if it wasn’t already in your hand. You frowned at the contact name, confused why your boyfriend was calling you. According to your calculations, it was almost midnight in Argentina right now, so why was he awake?

“Tooru?” You answered, using a finger to plug your other ear so you could hear him better over the noise of the students crowding your university hallways. You could barely make out shuffling on the other end of the line, before Oikawa’s familiar voice broke through.

“Heyyyy.” He whined, immediately following it with a giggle. You rolled your eyes and felt your lip twitch with amusement.

“Tooru, why are you still up?” You hiked your bag higher on your shoulder as you made your way through the halls. “You have practice tomorrow.”

You heard a thud on the line, followed by a curse. “I missed you, Y/N-chan~”

Oh. You sighed when the realization hit you. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Came the instant reply. “Only a little tipsy.”

You bit back a laugh at how indignant he sounded. There was another thud and another curse, this time in Spanish, and your lips twitched in amusement.

“You okay there, champ?” You teased, almost imagining Oikawa stumbling around his home.

“‘M just tryna get out of these damn clothes.” He mumbled, before you heard another soft thump and a relieved sigh.

“Finally in bed?” You asked. “Get some rest now.”

“Nooo..” Oikawa trailed off. “Talk to me. I miss you.”

You sighed. “You need to get up super early tomorrow, baby. And I know you’re tired. You need to sleep.”

“I miss your face.” Oikawa continued talking, as if he hadn’t even heard you. You weren’t surprised. Sober Oikawa was hard enough to deal with, drunk Oikawa was insufferable.

“If you were here, I would cuddle you.” He rambled on. “You’d feel so good against me right now. Y’know I’m completely naked? Bet you’d be naked too if you were here. God, I’d just dip my fingers into your pussy to see how we-”

“Tooru!” You yelled, eyes nearly popping out of your head at how the conversation (one-sided as it was) took a turn. You cursed internally when a few people turned around to look at you at the noise, frantically looking around for a more private place. You ducked into the door which said ‘restroom’ on it, mere feet away from where you were standing. The noise from the hall faded away.

“What the hell?” You continued, walking closer to the sinks, relieved that the bathroom was empty.

“I’m horny!” Your boyfriend whined on the other end.

“Well, I can’t do anything about that right now!” You snapped, checking the stalls to see that they were also thankfully empty.

“Yes you can!” He shot back. “C’mon, tell me what you’re wearing.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. This fucker. “I’m at uni, Tooru. Be serious.”

“Please, baby.” He whined again, though this time it was more breathy. Your eyes widened when you realized he was probably touching himself. “‘M so hard. And it’s been so long. God, I miss your body. I miss your voice.”

You felt yourself clench at the thought of Tooru running his hand over himself right now. You looked around at the completely empty bathroom, biting your lip in contemplation. Were you really going to do this?

One more image of Oikawa laid out naked and turned on, of his glorious body and roughed up chestnut hair, was enough for you to make your decision.

“Okay.” You breathed out. “Hold on.”

You rushed to lock the bathroom door, moving into a stall and locking that too for extra measure. “Fuck, okay.”

“Talk to me.” You heard him on the other end, almost begging. You sighed and pushed your hand into your pants, biting your lip when your fingers brushed your clit. This was going to be quick and messy, you could already tell.

“I’m,” you gulped. “I’m touching myself.”

A groan. “Yeah?” He sounded so wrecked already. God. You realized in that moment how badly you had missed him too.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Touching my clit. Feels good.”

Oikawa cursed. “Keep going, baby. Push down harder. Then put a finger inside.”

You followed his instructions, allowing yourself to let out a little moan at the feeling of being filled, albeit only slightly.

“God, I can imagine you right now.” Oikawa rambled on, and you could almost hear the sound of his hand moving, slightly wet, probably from the precum. “Bet you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Bet you miss my cock.”

“I do!” You whined, now fully immersed and overcome with pleasure, sliding another finger inside your hole. “‘S not the same, Tooru. Miss your big cock. Miss being filled to the brim.”

“S-shit, baby.” His voice sounded so broken, and it pushed you even closer to the edge. “I miss your pussy all the time. Can’t wait to get back and fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I’m gonna ruin you. Just let me come back. Let me come back.”

His ramblings were getting nonsensical, but his voice was wrecked and you moaned at the sound, your orgasm building far quicker than you anticipated, your movement growing frantic.

“Tooru, I’m so close.”

“M-me too. Fuck. C’mon baby, come all over your fingers like a good girl. You do that and I’ll give you my cock when I get back. I’ll fuck you five different ways. Just come for me right now, Y/N. Come.”

You moaned as your orgasm finally hit, letting Oikawa talk you through it with his silver tongue. You listened as he announced his own release, getting off on the sound of his curses and broken groans and using them to prolong your own orgasm. By the time you were done, you were sweaty and out of breath.

All was silent for a few minutes as you readjusted your clothes, putting your phone to your ear once again and not hearing anything except Oikawa’s steady breathing. You nearly snorted.

Bastard fell asleep immediately after cumming. Figures.

You dropped him a goodnight text before ending the call, unlocking the door and going about your way as if nothing had happened in the bathroom stall.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartzz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi i @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[shrenvents]

hii can you do some dean smut, maybe he and reader meet in a dive bar or sum?? <3

a/n: sure thing, i hope u like 😉😘

Mind Games

Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, v!penetration (protection used), language, fingering, some fluff, some jealousy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x you

Summary: You and Sam go way back. You and Dean as well, though he has no recollection of it, and for that, you make him pay.

Word Count: 4.1 k

...

The night had been long already when Sam texted you—“Hey, I'm in town. Drinks at Murphy's?”—but you didn’t hesitate to answer yes. It had been quite some time since you’d last seen him, and life had a funny way of pulling people apart after high school, though you and Sam tried to stay in touch here and there.

It hurt when he unexpectedly dropped out of school without explaining why, but thankfully he reconnected down the line, and the rest was history. He was just an easy friend, a good one you could pick up things with even after years of silence.

A dive bar wasn’t exactly your first choice. You preferred places with brighter lighting and cleaner, less sticky floors, without an old jukebox playing songs that were a hit, long before any patrons could remember. But Sam seemed to have a soft spot for them. It suited him, really—the unpretentious atmosphere, the cheap drinks. 

As you stepped past the creaky door, the scent of stale beer and cigarettes hit you like a wave of nostalgia. It reminded you of late nights sneaking into bars with Sam when you were underage, laughing too loud, worrying too little. The memory still made you smile.

You quickly spotted Sam, his broad frame hunched over a small booth in the corner, beer in hand. He looked up, eyes twinkling when he saw you, enthusiastically calling your name. Mid-wave, you froze and your heart skipped a beat after noticing who was sitting across from him —Dean. Sam’s older brother. 

Dean leaned back in his chair, lazily nursing a beer and his signature, cocky smirk as his eyes coasted his surroundings. He looked exactly the same, though his face was a little more rugged, and perhaps a little worn from life.

You’d had a ridiculous crush on Dean back in school. Your best friend's older brother. The guy who could make anyone laugh, who strode around like the world was his oyster. But he never noticed you. Not back then. Dean was too busy sleeping around, charming his way through the female student body, and leaving an abundance of broken hearts in his wake. The few times you were around him, he rarely glanced in your direction. And that was fine. Especially now, since you’ve grown up and moved on…

'Of course he's here,' you thought with an internal roll of your eyes, trying to steel yourself for the sudden rush of old, pitiful memories of unrequited love. You should've guessed he'd be here since Sam told you they'd hit the road together.

With a deep breath, you straightened out your shoulders and paced over, mustering all your strength to fix a calm smile onto your face as you greeted Sam, and his brother, who most likely wouldn’t really know you. "Long time no see," Sam remarked, standing to give you a bear hug, which you immediately returned. “Missed you."

"Missed you too," you replied with a pleased sigh. Your eyes then flickered to Dean for the briefest moment. He hadn’t moved, still reclined in his seat, watching you both with that curious tilt of his head. His silence stretched on long enough that it was clear—he didn’t recognize you.

'Typical,' you thought, and your smile tightened into a thin line as you slid into the booth. Ignoring the way Dean’s gaze dwindled, you decided two could play this game. It might be fun, even.

"Dean, you remember her now, don't you?" Sam asked, oblivious to the tension looming in the air as he gestured to you, hoping the in-person image would jog his memory.

Dean’s brows furrowed, and for a second, you swore you saw something flash behind his forest-coloured eyes. Then, as if he’d decided it wasn’t worth pretending, he shook his head, offering you a half-smile. You dismissed the swarming butterflies in your stomach, realizing this might just be the first time he's truly looked at you. And you’ve seen that look countless times from afar —it was the one he showed to the next girl he'd pick up.

"Sorry," Dean huffed dramatically, feigning disappointment having not remembered you. His voice was a low rumble that made your pulse quicken against your will. "Can’t say I do."

And there it was. Just as you expected. You’d spent countless afternoons back in high school, hanging out with Sam, romanticizing his older brother from the sidelines, praying he’d eventually give you the time of day. But Dean Winchester has always been… Well, Dean Winchester. And he always will be.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a smirk of your own, mimicking his relaxed demeanour. "Don’t worry about it. It’s been a while." Dean’s eyes narrowed momentarily, like he knew he’d missed something important, but had no clue what. Sam, ever the peacemaker, cut in with a laugh.

“Well, now that that's settled, drinks are on us. Let’s catch up.” Sam pushed a beer towards you and you downed nearly half, already determined to show that tonight, you weren't gonna be that quiet, shy, unnoticeable girl you were in school. If Dean noticed you now, he was in for one hell of a ride…

You and Sam probably spoke for less than an hour, because, unfortunately for Sam, he could barely get a word in with all of Dean's shameless flirting, which you somewhat entertained. Undoubtedly, neglecting him only egged him on more.

Throughout the night, after Sam gave up and wandered elsewhere, drunk and confused, Dean would make bold throwaway comments, steal lingering glances, and release that low chuckle every time you defiantly teased him. At first, it was satisfying—this was the guy you used to dream about noticing you, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But as the hours ticked by, you recalled all too well who Dean really was: a player. A guy who’d probably seen countless women come and go without a second thought. However, now, with him slowly inching towards you, it was becoming increasingly difficult to disregard the urge to go home with him to spare your dignity.

The second the ragged surface of his jeans started grazing your thigh, you excused yourself to get another drink. Strutting over to the bar, you felt his eyes bore into your backside and a shiver racked down your spine. Rather dizzyly, you ordered another drink but were surprised when a tall stranger offered to pay for it. Despite the unwanted attention, with Dean eyeing you both, you selected to make this stranger an outlet for a potential mistake.

So just for show, you leaned in a little too close, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, ambling with your drink as if you were reluctant to return to Dean. His gaze was burning holes into the man's head the entire time, and you knew this was doing wonders to Dean's inflated ego. 

Then you heard a loud thud behind you, and just as you turned around, Dean was already there, standing close by, staring daggers into the stranger you ironically couldn't remember the name of. Dean then glanced down at you, wordlessly demanding eye contact, and you're rooted to the floor when his hand brazenly brushes across your lower back, to rest comfortably on your hip. "Hey," he smiled as his gaze softened, marking the smooth return of his playboy facade.

"How about we get outta here?" Dean whispered into your ear while his nose skimmed your hair. Subtly taking a deep breath, you seductively beam up at him and note how his grip tightened on your side as if he had to brace himself. "Exactly what I was thinking," you whispered back and Dean's eyes fluttered, and you're so close he likely thinks you're about to kiss, but you have other plans.

"Wanna go?" You asked the man you nearly forgot about, who seems almost as stunned as you sense Dean is. He takes a sharp intake of breath at his rejection, virtually staggering back from you, and the moment his hand lifts from your hot flesh, you slip away and grab the stranger's forearm, swiftly hauling him outside with you, without looking back. As you left, you waved goodbye to Sam. "I'll call you tomorrow," you said with an energetic wink, unable to conceal how giddy you were.

After your dramatic exit, you made it clear to the poor stranger that you had no intention of taking things any further than a walk to your car. But Dean didn’t know that. 

…

The very next day, you made more plans with Sam to make up for yesterday's turn of events, but Dean was relentless. For that whole week in fact. He obviously forced Sam to give him your number, and since then, there have been numerous texts, calls, and unexpected visits. Each time he found you, his approach became more serious, more focused, and still, you’d reject him every time, in a rather absentminded way, which drove him mad. You grew to love the way it made him squirm.

Today was one of those days, at a quiet little bar far from the one you met at, the conversation quickly turned south from the usual banter.

He’d barely sat down before that trademark smirk was back. His green eyes glinted as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between you, his fingers grazing yours. The touch was subtle, but deliberate—like he was testing the waters. You pulled your hand back just a fraction, enough for him to notice but not enough to discourage him. You were growing unsure of who you were punishing at this point.

"Missed me?" Dean's voice was deep, smooth, and far too confident for someone who’d been chasing you all week and failing miserably. You rolled your eyes playfully and took a sip of your drink. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to get a quiet drink," you quipped. Dean chuckled, undeterred, shaking his head. "Right, right. That’s why you agreed to meet me here. For a ‘quiet' drink." His voice dripped with mischievous sarcasm, and an undertone of sexual frustration.

You couldn’t help but grin. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." You crossed your legs and kicked out one, lightly touching Dean's, and he tensed. He then closed in, his fingers gently touching the back of your hand, this time pausing just long enough to send a quake up your arm. "You like to keep me guessing, don’t you?" He wet his lips, eyes darting to yours, which were shrivelling up with anticipation.

"Maybe," you admitted with a sheepish grin. "Or maybe I just like taking you down a few pegs." Dean laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sounded a bit like a scoff and sent a rush of heat through you. He didn’t pull away, and the teasing glow in his eyes eased for just a moment as he studied you.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His voice dropped a notch, and his regard danced across your skin. "Ever since that night at Murphy's… I haven’t stopped thinking about you."

Though your pulse was racing, you shifted away, pretending to be unimpressed. "I'm sure you say that to all the ladies," you taunted with a roll of your eyes. Dean shook his head, his smile fading a little. "This isn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Oh Please. Not even a little?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I didn’t remember you from school. But Sam and I've moved around so much; I never bothered to remember anyone." He winced, as if admitting it aloud stung a little. "Though I have no idea how I don't remember you. I wish I did," he expressed, and he sounded so sincere that you nearly swooned.

"But things are different now. This is different," he proclaimed, eyes wild with a fiery determination. You arched an eyebrow, scooting forward. "So, what’s this been about then?" Though you question Dean, you give him no time to respond, pressing on. "You're just upset that I didn’t fall into your lap like all the others?"

Dean’s eyes were ablaze, and he didn't retract into his seat. If anything, he dipped in closer. "Sorry I hurt your ego," you added, half-sarcastic, half-challenging. He shook his head and his jaw clenched. "Maybe it started out that way," he acknowledged, but his tone held not a trace of his usual humour. "But really, it isn’t like that anymore."

You tilted your head, intrigued by the sincerity in his voice, but confused by his articulation. You’d expected him to laugh it off, throw out a line, but this? This felt… as he said, different. Not to mention the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you, really seeing you—made your heart skip a beat.

"Oooohhh, okay then," you mocked slowly, drawing out the words. "Tell me, what’s it like Dean?" If you weren't paying such close attention to him, you might have missed how his breath hitched and how his eyes darkened while he inched closer to you. The impish atmosphere between you two had suddenly altered, the circulating tension becoming thick and electric. His hand moved to your thigh under the table, his touch scalding, steady, while his other hand weaved through your fingers.

"It’s like…" He trailed off, his voice a whisper now, his lips brushing your ear. "Every time I see you, I have to resist the urge to…" He paused, cutting himself short as he moved back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin and he peered down at your lips once again, however this time, he appeared vulnerable.

"To what?" You whispered, barely able to get the words out as your heart pounded against your ribs. Dean’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his hand tautening on your leg, his thumb slowly rubbing your inner thigh. "To kiss you."

Before you could respond he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden, heated intensity that took your breath away. You melted into the kiss. All the teasing, the banter, the back-and-forth disappeared as you instinctively tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him in.

Dean groaned softly against your lips, pleased by your instant reaction. His hand moved from yours to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over your flushed skin as the kiss deepened. It was slow at first, then building, and heat swarmed your core when the hand gripping your thigh slid upwards. You felt the pent-up tension you'd been feeling all week, and since the moment you saw him, spill into your actions. He pressed flush against you, leaving no space, and you laid your legs overtop of his lap. His tongue licked your lips surface, grazing your teeth and you gasped, pulling away as much as he allowed.

Breathless and panting, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That’s what it’s like," he rasped airily, his voice hoarse. And for the first time, you believed him. Things may really be different.

As you got lost in your thoughts, he began to chant your name with that same smile widening. Both his hands then seized your upper arms, shaking you tenderly as he repeated your name. "Tell me what you're thinking," he more or less pleaded.

"I'm thinking that, if I find out you're lying to get in my pants, I'll kill you," you smirked devilishly, peering up at him through hooded eyes. His eyes morphed into a darker shade of black, turned on by your threat. You giggled, lightly shaking your head. "I can't fake this baby," Dean sweet talks, and you note how his manner seems looser now that he's gotten how he feels off his chest.

He pecks your cheek. "You know, I was pretty hurt when you left with that guy the other night," he huffed like the memory still haunted him. You stifled your laugh. "Uh-huh?" His eyes narrowed at your teasing response, though his smile hardly wavered. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah," you replied immediately with a shrug. "Especially since I was deliberately messing with you." Dean's brows shot into his forehead, creasing it in utter disbelief and bafflement. "I didn't sleep with him Dean," your tone lowers wantonly, "like I said, I wanted to take you down a few pegs."

His wide eyes crinkled as he erupted with laughter, stammering "touché" in between chuckles. You laughed along, admiring how carefree he was at that moment. When his stream of laughter died out, you gulped at the strange look he suddenly showed. "It's a shame," he stated cryptically. Your face twisted with puzzlement, which made Dean's dreamlike expression grow, apparently in deep contemplation. "What?" You snapped jokingly.

"Oh nothing," he sighed while his palms skated down to your torso, cupping your ribcage as he looked to the distance sadly. You smacked his side which made a snort escape him. "Oh, just... If only you left with me that night," he remarked dolefully, unable to hide that glint of lust-fueled wit. "If only," you reiterated with a strained sound, also unable to hide your looping thoughts, which were clouded by desire. "How about we make that happen?" He kissed your other cheek. His lips lingered there and his breath fanned your skin. "How about it?" You responded airily and Dean laughed at your consistent repetition, clearly trying to push his buttons in a way he's grown to love.

Without another word, he slides out of the booth and gently ushers you out, onto your feet, holding your hand firmly in his. With his spare hand, he drops some cash on the table and pulls you to his hip. He walked you both outside, leading you towards his car and you shuddered at the sight. It reminded you of the countless times he'd pick up Sam from school and you'd watch him from afar. The number of fantasies you had of him and that car made your body surge with a fierce, intoxicating need.

He opened his passenger seat and propped you inside, and you obediently admired his every move until he sat behind the wheel. One glimpse of his profile darting from you to the windscreen pushed you off the edge.

"Fuck," you quickly murmured, catching Dean off guard when you abruptly pounced on him, straddling his thighs. You cupped his dome, tugging on his short locks while his hands shot to your waist, dragging you downwards so he could grind into you. You both moaned into the messy kiss, so close to satisfaction, yet so far. He groaned your name when your lips moved to his neck, desperate to leave a mark. He reluctantly tried to halt your attack, but your need overpowered all logic. "I can't wait," he grunted when he wretched your face from his neck. Dean's head thumped against the seat's leather headrest and his eyes were glossy with a sort of determination.

"Get in the back," is all he ordered before he hastily assisted you onto the backseat. He climbed on top of you after grabbing a condom from the glove compartment, following your mouth eagerly, and pecking it a few times as he laid you down. "God you're sexy," he groaned. He then yanked off his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before that familiar smug expression consumed his features. "You're unbelievable," you scoffed and his smirk grew.

"I get that a lot," he commented jokingly and you smacked his side harder than before, displaying your exasperation. He laughed and you threaded your fingers into his hair again to shut him up. His mouth collided with yours, and his hands frantically removed both of your clothes. He sweared loudly when you bucked your hips up and rub his bulge —now covered by his boxers alone. His deep voice let out a surprising whimper when you did it again, this time using your hands to drag him down, clutching his defined hips.

You then had a sudden craving to admit to him how much you longed for this moment, but you opted for: "fuck me." Dean growled into your ear before kissing you rather harshly as he took himself out of his briefs. He cupped your bare breast, which is still partially hidden by your bra since he was too transfixed elsewhere to remove it completely.

When his cock hit your abdomen and he slid on the condom, you hummed a moan, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. "Jesus," he mumbled under his breath when his tip breached your slit. He smoothly glided inside, as if you were two puzzle pieces melding together. Your heart panged and you gasped, while Dean muttered nonsensically. He reared back to look into your eyes once he bottomed out. When he pulled away, his very breath abandoned his lungs as if his soul was now connected to your lips, and you'd be keeping it with you now and forever. For once, he actually felt like putty in someone's hands, and he didn't hate it. Not when you felt like Heaven, after years of experiencing Hellfire.

Underneath him, you remarked on how it felt to finally be touched by Dean... Addictive. Unhurriedly, he guided both your arms above your head, stretching out your spine, and holding your wrists in place with a single hand. The air stilled and you listened to his rapid heartbeats. The tension was palpable as his mouth descended onto yours —quickly going from slow and passionate, to needy and frenzied. Dean suddenly thrust and you yelped, which made him cease his movements immediately. He attempted to pull away from your mouth but you raised your head to pull him back down, unable to do anything else, not with your arms still hoisted above you. You rolled your hips into him and he released a lengthy grunt of approval, clearly understanding that you wanted him to resume his pounding.

He sped up his thrusting and you could barely hold back your cries, loving his strength and weight caging you in, and taking you roughly. Even though his lower half was aggressive, it was still Dean writhing into you, looking down at you with such tenderness, and kissing you in ways that made you hopelessly expect more. At this point, you'd take whatever he'd give you and thank him for it.

"Don't stop," you nearly shouted when your legs begun to shake. He released an animalistic sound, his strokes becoming increasingly choppy. Dean heaves your name, muttering, "You're some kind of fantasy, you know that?" Before you could respond he captured your lips, moaning into your mouth while his fingers slipped between you two. Suddenly his digits rubbed circles onto your clit and you gasped loudly, whining into his all-consuming kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt Dean smirk, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reprimand him when he makes you reach your climax, which rushes over you like a tidal wave, crashing into shore with a loud sob.

"Fuck," Dean's hips stuttered into you, and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, letting go of your wrists to prop himself up in a plank. He breathed in and out slowly, eyelids eventually fluttering open to witness you already surveying him, entranced by his face when it's full of ecstasy. "That was... Fucking amazing," he panted as he monitored your reddened complexion. You nodded, though you shied away from his gaze, feeling all too vulnerable, afraid that history was repeating itself, and you were already head-over-heels for Dean Winchester.

As your mind wandered into a dark place, Dean's calloused finger pads grabbed your attention when they caressed your jaw, swiping your cheek. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he chuckled airily to himself before continuing, "and give me a chance to do that again—many, many times."

Now it's his turn to seem sheepish and you laugh, partially in shock. "No strings attached?" You arched a brow as you questioned what you were, despite having not gone on an actual date yet. He displayed a genuine smile as he shook his head no. "I'm already tangled up in them," he confessed with a shrug.

Your heart flipped and you fought to remain stoic. You then lifted your index finger above your nose, right in his eye line. "I'm givin' you one chance... To do that, over and over again," you whispered sensually, biting back your shit-eating grin. A giddy, boyish look took over Dean's face and your laughter burst through, making your core clench around him and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"How about we start that 'one chance' right now?" You purred, smirking at the way his eyes playfully narrowed. "Gladly."

[cozycottagetarot]

Positive Plot Twists Coming Your Way

How To Pick A Group:

I recommend going with the image you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This reading is focused on the next positive plot twist happening for you. Do keep in mind a 'plot twist' is still a plot twist ➡ there's still an element of surprise to it, this is all just clues to it happening. ✨

This Readings Contents:

Your Energy (It was supposed to be your current energy but it actually seemed more like your energy before the plot twist occurs)

The Plot Twists

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧

Pile 1 (Vials)

Your Energy

This is one of those times when the cards don’t make sense until I’ve done the rest of the reading, so this is a bit of a mid-reading interpretation!

You have a lot going for you Pile 1– on paper, you should have a rich and fulfilling life, even if there is more you want to add in. You have (see I’m just going blank again). You’ve got yourself, you’ve got the things to make you emotionally fulfilled. Your social life is satisfactory, there are things to celebrate. You’ve got a good relationship with yourself, and you could even have someone special in your life!!! But even though you know this and you’re aware of it you just feel rather empty right now. Like none of it matters, and you’re trying and trying but there’s just this feeling of “I can’t”.

I’m not a doctor and I don’t read on health topics, but if this resonates with you (now or at the time) and feels like a mental health thing, then I definitely recommend exploring ways in which you can safely and healthily combat it. 

The Plot Twist

The positive plot twist that is happening for you is the scattered cycle you’ve been in that yields results but nothing of substance is coming to an end.

For a while now you might find that you’re doing things but they haven’t been very focused. You could have a lot if things burdening your mental or physical world and it’s taking a toll on your life. You may have successes but they don’t mean anything to you. What I mean by having things is the relationships and people there. I was wondering why your cards for your current energy were all so happy yet felt so empty and it makes sense now. Even though you’re doing well you’re lacking something though you may not even know what. Well thankfully, your sense of purpose is returning.

When you get back this sense of purpose and direction, there’s going to be action and with that action follows abundance. You’re going to be able to enjoy all that life currently offers you as well as welcoming in more. It feels like you’re going to come alive again because the energy in this section in comparison to your current energy is such a drastic shift. You could be expanding your point of view as well which is a good thing as the more perspectives we have the more opportunities will be available to us. I think you’ll also have a better grasp on how to manage everything on your plate so it doesn’t overwhelm you in the future.

Don't miss out on the extended version of this reading, which dives into the event that triggers the plot twists and sneaks a peek into its immediate and long-term impact. Check it out here.

Pile 2 (Potion)

Your Energy 

You could be connecting with your happiness on a deeper level or exploring memories of what made you happy or feel more carefree. There’s a sleepy energy... one of searching for something more. It’s also peaceful.

The Plot Twist 

You’re about to receive a win that’s going to shift your world's balance. This could be something you’ve been anticipating but regardless of if you have or not, it’s going to leave you in high spirits. It could either bring you back into balance or you’ve been anticipating what kind of results you’ll yield. I’ve been struggling with what deck to use and I pulled cards from another briefly. You had the knight of wands, the star and the seven of swords, so I think maybe you were an anxious ball of energy (good or bad) trying to be hopeful but maybe expecting the worse of course though it’s a good outcome or even if not you may discover something that makes you glad it didn’t work out. 

This could be a key piece of information you receive from someone else or something might suddenly ‘click’ for you. It could also be relating to you planting seeds and tending them, so maybe this plot twist is relating to the first ‘sprout of success’.

Don't miss out on the extended version of this reading, which dives into the event that triggers the plot twists and sneaks a peek into its immediate and long-term impact. Check it out here.

Pile 3 (Hourglass)

Your Energy 

You are diligently chipping away at a task Pile 3. You are putting in the effort to move away from something or I should say towards something. It’s not to say it’s without its sadness. There’s a bittersweet feel to this. This feels like the most straightforward pile... you have a bit of a quiet optimism going on. Part of it feels like you’re just keeping your head down trying to make the best of the situation. 

The Plot Twist 

Someone is coming in or this could be someone in your life who you two pair well together with whom you’ll find some kind of happiness and stability. Spoiler alert this is related to romance or companionship (with or without traditional romance) so that’s the only interpretation I’m reading for. You can try a different pile if that’s not something you’re necessarily looking for.  This person can be very comforting or you might start to envision creating a home, literally or figuratively, with them... they might also just feel like home. As I'm editing, I realize it could be that you're working towards creating your version of home and this person comes along. Why is this a plot twist? It feels like a shock or the feelings catch you by surprise. There’s a strong connection between you two. This could be someone from the past (with happy memories attached!) or they may help you to heal.  You may not think much of them at first but something forces you to pause and reconsider. It could be a chance to start over with this person. Some questions you may have to ask is what needs to change this time around or moving forward. The big thing you may be considering is how this person fits into your life (long term).

Don't miss out on the extended version of this reading, which dives into the event that triggers the plot twists and sneaks a peek into its immediate and long-term impact. Check it out here.

[tubapun]

Wasn't satisfied with the initial 2x scale up of the designs section of the Girl's Best Friend Style Guide, so I went back and rendered them out at 10x scale. Thankfully vectors make that fairly easy.

Unfortunately, this second pass led me to realize that some of the images are missing texture elements. I could not find an easy way to correct that, though ones where the missing texture led to a significant color change I took the liberty of adjusting the color on.

I will have to find a way to upload the .esp files (I'm assuming the free program I'm using is why certain textures are missing)

Regardless!! Here is the best quality version of this stock art I currently have available!! Good for use as icons and headers and whatever else!!

Check the reblogs!! I got the textures to work, albeit not with transparency

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable: Letters (Steddie X You)

A/N: I give you treat my dear friends. A glimpse into inmate Steddie. I'm going to write a full story but for some reason the idea of them writing back and forth burned into my brain. Think of this as a prequel so to speak.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, Everything is in letter format. Mentions of smut, some dirty talk, angst (because I'm me), both men were convicted even though they are innocent, near the end we get some glimpses of toxic behavior, Jealous Steddie <3, cliffhanger esc ending.

Word Count: 2918

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

July 1996

Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington, 

I know you don’t know me but my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m a student here at Hawkins University. I’m supposed to be doing a project for my criminal justice class and with your permission I’d like to do it on you. 

I’m working towards getting my law degree and so many kids in my class are doing theirs on people like Bundy or Gacy. How does that help teach them? I’ve done research on your case and I feel like you both are innocent. Add in the fact that the judge wanted to make “an example” out of you two… it’s ridiculous. 

Neither of you had a prior history of violence and Mr. Harrington, your parents are prominent members of Hawkins! UGH! I just don’t get it. 

Sorry. I went off on a bit of a tangent there… I just hate how you both were treated. 

If you don’t want me to utilize your case for my class I’ll completely understand. If you don’t respond I’ll take that as a no as well. 

Thank you,

--Y/N.

################

July 1996,

Sweetheart,

You have no idea how good it made us feel to have someone reach out to us, let alone agree that we are innocent. Society forgot about us a while ago but thankfully Steve and I have each other. 

And now you we hope : ). 

We have no problem with you doing your project on our case. What do you need from us? Details I imagine but what else? Are we allowed to know more about you? We know your name is Y/N, you’re a law student, and judging by the intoxicating scent that wafted when we opened your letter you smell really fucking good. 

Please feel free to be open with us.  We’re nice guys we swear.

-Eddie

Y/N,

I hope Eddie didn’t come off too strong with his letter. I told him we need to be respectful but like he said people kind of forgot about us. It’s nice to feel appreciated. 

We have no problem with you using us on your project and you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. I understand that talking to someone in our circumstances can be a bit scary especially for a young lady like you. 

Are you only going to be speaking with us or do you need to talk to our families to? My parents gave up on me after I was found guilty so they probably won’t be much help. Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson is a nice guy. You can tell him we sent you and he’ll answer your questions. We also have some friends people who were around the time we were arrested who can help to. 

We look forward to hearing from you, 

-Steve

P.S. You can call us Steve and Eddie. We already feel old enough : )

####################

July 1996

Eddie & Steve, 

Thank you so much! You have no idea how important this is to me. I don’t just want to do this for my class but I’d like to use this case for my graduation project as well. But we don’t have to think about that now. I barely like to think that far ahead so I use the excuse of that is two years away. 

Eddie didn’t come on too strong : ).

I AM a law student and a sophomore at Hawkins U. I’ll be 21 in a few months so I can finally move up to being a bartender at the restaurant I work at. College is expensive but soon it will be worth it. I’m attaching a picture with the letter just so you have an image of who you’re talking to. 

Growing up I heard all about you two. Hawkins High used to have your Hellfire Club, Eddie, but they disbanded it a couple of years before I graduated. The parents said they didn’t think it was right for their kids to belong to a club created by someone such as yourself. Since Dustin Henderson wasn’t there to advocate for you guys anymore…

I don’t have to reach out or talk to anyone you don’t want me to. I know most of the people involved in your case aren’t even in Hawkins anymore. 

I’m so sorry. It must be hard having everyone you know disappear. 

My parents aren’t exactly fans of my chosen profession. My mom hates lawyers since her divorce lawyer wasn’t able to get her more alimony from my father and my dad is cop so enough said hahaha!

I’ve been with my boyfriend for a few months. He’s a film major and keeps begging me to allow him to do an interview with you two. I keep telling him no. You’re people not circus animals. 

Let’s start with you two telling me whatever makes you comfortable in regard to your case!

-Y/N

####################

December 1996,

Sweetheart,

Merry Christmas! 

Did Wayne give you the presents we bought you? My uncle said it’s important for college girls especially soon to be lawyers to have tape recorders. I’d love to hear if you liked it and if you can use it in your classes. 

It’s been a couple of days since you called. I hope everything is alright. We miss the sound of your voice…

Y/N, I know I can come off a bit forward but I hope I didn’t scare you away by talking to you the way I did during our last conversation. I can’t help it, you know? You’re just so gorgeous and you’ve been so good to us that my brain promptly goes into flirtation mode. 

Anyway, yeah, I want to hear how your Christmas went and if Derek’s family was good to you.

-Eddie

Honey, 

Merry Christmas! 

Ed forgot to mention that we did get your gifts and are incredibly thankful for the books. Since I was arrested I’ve opened my mind when it comes to reading and Munson’s fantasy books at least take me away mentally to a different world. 

He’s right by the way… you are incredibly beautiful. 

Would you be open to seeing us in person? 

Just a nice friendly visit where we can talk about your project and get to know you more. 

If not we completely understand.

-Steve

##########################

February 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sorry I haven’t come by or answered the phone. After our last visit, I just…

I love Derek but I care about you both so much. When you kissed me We have to keep this professional. Not just because of my boyfriend but because I’m studying to be a lawyer. How would it look if I fell in love started a relationship with inmates I’m working with?

Please understand.

-Y/N

#######################

February 1997

Sweetheart,

We understand but you have to also understand that we’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so kind and beautiful. You listen to what we have to say and actually care about us. I can still feel your lips against mine and nothing in my life has ever tasted as sweet. 

Can you still feel me, princess?

For the first time in almost 11 years, I actually have some hope. 

Does he make you feel like we do, honey? Your heavy breath against my mouth when I kissed you tells me no. I know we’re trapped here for the next 14 years but, baby, we can still take care of you. We just have to be a bit imaginative with certain things but….

No one has to know, baby, not even Derek. 

-Steve & Eddie

#######################

February 1997

Baby, 

Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea how hearing you touch yourself over the phone got us going. If we could have private phones we would have stroked our cocks for you so you could hear how much you turn us on.

I can still hear your heavy pants in my ear while you fucked your fingers. 

I’m playing with myself right now at the thought of how tight that young little pussy is. Fuck… picturing those sexy hips slam against me as you ride my dick. Do you like it rough or nice and slow? Delicate, just like you, pretty girl. 

Shit. I just came so hard. 

Would you let Steve and I fill you up? Make you really ours?

I wish we could fall asleep with you between us. I’d give anything to hold you in my arms and play with your hair. 

Can’t wait to see you again, princess. 

-Eddie.

############################

April 1997

Honey, 

How did your test go for your class? I’m sorry we weren’t more helpful but I’m glad you brought your stuff to show us what you’ve been working on. It makes us so happy to see you working so hard and achieving your dreams. You deserve all the good things in this world. 

I’ve been thinking about you since we last saw you. Aren’t you glad now you wore that sexy skirt?

God, I can still smell you on my fingers. I loved feeling you cling to my arm as I thrust them into your tight little cunt. We have to work on silencing those moans a bit more : ).

I keep having dreams about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock just looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes while I fuck your throat. 

Do you think about us? Tell us all your fantasies, baby. 

We love you. 

-Steve

#######################

April 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

You are such bad boys, you know that? I like it though…

Sometimes when I’m writing to you, Derek will walk by and I feel naughty but giddy. I’m doing something I definitely shouldn’t be doing. When we have sex, I don’t see him anymore. 

I just see you two. 

I wish I could take care of you the way you do me. I want to feel you both inside of me, stretching me open. I want to choke on Steve’s cock and ride Eddie till I can’t walk. I want to feel you both cum inside me and make me yours. 

I love you to…so much… 

I hate to ask this after everything but Derek would like to film you guys for his project. I’ll be there to so you won’t be alone with him and I can use the footage when I start working on my graduation project later down the line. 

After everything, if you don’t want to I completely understand. 

I’ll call you both tomorrow. 

-Y/N

##########################

May 1997

Please, 

I’m so sorry! The prison said you aren’t allow visits for the next month after what happened and you aren’t taking my calls. 

I didn’t know those were the questions he was going to ask you, I swear. 

After the stupid bullshit he pulled, I broke up with him and kicked him out of our apartment. 

I know you both are innocent and I don’t feel the same way he does. 

I love you so much. 

-Y/N

################

May 1997,

Don’t break up with him. He’s right. We’re fucking criminals and—

Y/N,

Eddie is still upset but we do believe that you didn’t know he was going to blind side us. We just needed some time to compose ourselves. The questions Derek asked about those kids, Nancy, and then seeing him kissing you when we walked in just fucking… It was too much. 

Add in the fact that he made some points, you know?

By the time, we get out of here we’ll be in our late 40’s essentially starting over. It’s going to be so hard for us to get a job and other things like a house or a car. People will always look down on us for something we didn’t do but they believe we did. 

You’re going to be this badass attorney with men your age groveling at your high heeled feet to give you the world. 

We’re scared about dragging you down with us. You deserve the world, baby girl.

Just give us a bit more time, ok? During this time, I want you to think about if being with us is the life you really want. Really think about it, Y/N. 

We love you to… no matter what.

--Steve & Eddie

###########################

August 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sitting in my first class this semester and I am already exhausted. I started my new job at The Hideout and I left at like 3am. I got some good tips though so that will help with tuition. I can also send you guys anything if you need something. 

I heard your appeal was denied again. 

I’m so sorry.

With cases like yours, it’s so hard to get those pushed through and approved. 

I’m thinking about you two every minute. When I crashed, I kept wishing I had your arms around me. 

I’ll call you tonight before my shift. 

I love you!

-Y/N

########################

August 1997, 

Baby, 

Yeah, we’re kind of over it now. After so many denials, you just kind of give up trying. It was like that with my dad and his case. Then again he was just a repeat offender and I’m a murderer so.

You didn’t tell us you were working at The Hideout. I used to play my guitar there with my band when I thought I would be a rockstar. I’m not gonna be anything now.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess we’re just a bit low right now. 

I wish we could be there with you to. I want to fall asleep to your voice talking to me about everything. I could listen to you talk for hours, babe. 

Don’t overwork yourself. 

Love you,

--Eddie 

Honey, 

You never have to worry about sending us anything in here. We make enough money and then Wayne gives Eddie some to get by. 

My mom was there at our appeal. It was nice seeing her face again after all this time even though she didn’t talk to me or stick around to meet with me at the prison. 

I imagine my father didn’t know she was there. 

I agree with Munson, don’t over work yourself. 

We miss you. 

--Steve

######################

October 1997,

Y/N, 

We didn’t mean to scare you, baby, when you came to visit. We just… you were supposed to come visit us last week and you didn’t. You don’t answer when we call. 

We get worried. 

Please, sweetheart, answer the phone so we can talk. 

We love you, pretty girl. 

--Eddie

#######################

October 1997,

FUCK YOU! 

You don’t get to treat me the way you did when I took time out of my day to come to see you! Steve, you have no right shouting at me and degrading me in front of all your cell block friends. Eddie, you don’t get to grab my wrist and command that I “Lower my voice” when you both are sitting there talking down to me. 

The three of us know you weren’t worried about me but fucking jealous I’ve been brushing you off for someone else! 

I have shown you both nothing but respect and opened my heart to you from day one!

I’m sorry your both in the situation you are in. I genuinely am but I have given you no reason to think I’d ever hurt you by fucking cheating on you. 

I wouldn’t put my career and heart on the line like I have just to fucking throw it away that way. 

--Y/N

######################

October 1997

Little girl, 

I know you get off on being a bad girl but we swear to God, Y/N. You don’t get to talk to us the way you did during our visit. We understand that you have a busy life but that doesn’t give you the right to not show up or not answer the phone when you say you will. 

We may be convicts but we still have feelings. 

Telling us to “fuck off” or saying that bratty shit you said like “I’m sorry I’m busy” is not ok. 

Respect is earned. 

Let’s also not forget, Y/N, that you cheated on your boyfriend with us. It’s not farfetched for us to think you may spread your legs for more tips at the bar you work at. 

Don’t play this game with us, princess. You won’t win. 

Eddie & Steve

#########################

October 1997

Edward Munson & Steven Harrington, 

I always win and I have more self-respect than you both seem to think I do. 

We’re done. 

--Y/N

#########################

October 1997

Ed and Stev, 

I hate you sooooooo much. I fell in love wit you and did things with u I’ve never done with ANYONE! Except fucking obviously : ). I never did get to feel those “big cocks” streting tearing me open. Why is that? Oh yeah…because youre in jail!

I was willing to wait bcause I loved you. I didn’t care if you’d be 40 someting when you got out. You will NEVER find someone like me again. 

I’ll move on though. Always do.

Hey check out this cute boy I met. I took a picture of him sucking my neck. I’m not drunk enough to send a video but you can use your imagination. 

You’re good at that especially when u r imagining me cheating on you with men like him. 

Assholes…

--Y/N

######################

October 30th, 1997

Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight. 

--Steve & Eddie

##########

Donate to me

@nailbatanddungeon @dashingdeb16 @hardladyheart @thwippyparker @micheledawn1975 @utterlyinsanity

[captain039]

Part 2 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous part <-

It was the weekend thankfully, and you have majority of the school to yourself seeing as most kids go home for the weekends. You haven’t been in contact with your parents since the accident, you begged Charles to wipe their memory of ever having you but he said no. You weren’t in the right place mentally when you first got here, you’ve burnt down a total of five rooms before Professor Hank managed to make you a fire proof room. You almost begged to sleep outside so at least then Storm could rain away your fire and Charles could calm your mind. More than once Professor Charles was forced to calm you, other kids were scared of you when they saw you in the middle of the burning room wailing like a Banshee and not the mutant kind. More than once you locked yourself in the training room used for mutants like Havoc, at least that was fireproof. You laid on the cold floor with nothing but the suit Professor Hank made for you, curled up in the corner when your fire would be out of control.

Footsteps make you snap back to reality your spoon burning hot and melting in your hand. You panic rush to the sink ignoring whoever walked in and running it under cold water. You sigh in relief glancing at the table and seeing no damage apart from this half melted spoon.

“You alright kid?” You jump forgetting the other person and apologising before you see him, Logan, the Wolverine.

“Yeah, fine” you say and he nods an unamused look on his face. You get a new spoon quickly and go back to your cereal frowning when he lets out an annoyed grunt and huffs. He picks up a soda and pops it open an unhappy look on his face.

“Are you ok?” You ask the alpha who frowns and looks to you, you gulp thinking you’ve done something wrong.

“They haven’t got beer” he says and now you frown.

“This is a school, filled with underage children? You know that right?” You say and he grumbles finishing his drink quickly and leaving. Well then.

Seems every time you see Logan he’s wearing a frown or a scowl and you swear the alpha is just pissed at the world constantly. You’ve seen him in training, the stern look he wears while barking words, hell the other kids look terrified. You figure he’s just a grumpy old bastard who smelt like heaven on earth for five seconds. You’re thankful for your scent blockers, you don’t know if you could handle that scent in the hallway every second day for the last month. Your position here is weird, not many older students are here that are your age, you sit in on classes, sometimes you help teach classes or help the other teachers with whatever they need, a in the middle man. Students are still weary of you when they approach due to your past time here, but the newer ones don’t seem to mind you.

As of late though you feel extra tired, your muscles hurt and you feel like the school rests on your shoulder. You blame stress and anxiety and whatever else you can think of at night when you’re so tired you can’t sleep. Your nightmares have been worse lately too, flickers of images taunting your usually normal dreams. You don’t wake in flames though, just an overly warm bed and sweat. It’s strange your mutation though you can literally stand within flames and fire doesn’t hurt, you feel the heat of it though and still sweat when not fully engulfed in flames, Jean says it’s because of the medications your taking, you don’t care though, rather be on them and sweat than not be on them and be on fire all the time. You’re walking down the hall when you hear arguing, you frown and glance seeing Jean and Logan in a classroom. His shoulders are tense and Jean looks ready to through him through a wall. You figure you should let them figure it out but something stops you.

“I can be better than him!” Logan growls and you frown, better than who.

“Scott is an amazing man, an amazing partner I don’t need or want you Logan!” Jean says back more calm than Logan. Oh. You hear Logan growl and heavy steps.

“You know we are good together” his voice is lower, hinting seductiveness that makes your stomach clench.

“No we weren’t” Jean says back voice low but dangerous. You scurry off heart pounding feeling like something punched you in the face, of course Logan was interested in someone else Jesus you barely knew the grumpy alpha. Why did it hurt then?

You hurry back to your room heart still racing as your body begins to heat up. You throw your books on the ground gripping your hair as you breathe heavily. Your window fogs and small flames flicker over your skin as you sit in the corner and try to breathe. You were having a panic attack, your ears rang, your stomach churned and flames danced along your arms, your clothes began to burn off leaving the suit underneath as you let out a cry and your body engulfed in flames. You panted loudly, clenched and unclenched your fists, your eyes unfocused and focused, your room spun. You forced your eyes shut a knocking at the door making you cry. You locked the door you’d be safe, well they would be safe from you. You shook your head slowly rocking your body back and forth as your flames crawled towards your carpet and caught it. You cried no tears but sobbed as your bed was next in the flames and the bedside tables, your books and lamp, your phone. The door broke down and panic shot through you as you stared at whoever was stupid enough. You heard your name being shouted but you shook your head hugged your knees.

“GET OUT!” Your flames roared with you as you sobbed. The figure moved through the fire though and you frowned seeing Logan, the grumpy alpha with a determined look on his face.

“Hey, hey! I need you to look at me!” He knelt close the hair in his arms singeing, his clothes next.

“Get out!” You snapped flames flaring as the alpha winced.

“You can’t hurt me” he says and you scoff seeing his skin blister and peel. A new panic sets in, one that has you reeling back your power in a hurry, the flames stop, your body goes back to normal as you stare in horror at the alpha in front of you. You hold his arms tears rolling down your face.

“No, no! You stupid-“ your words stop his skin heals, the blisters and red marks leave leaving untarnished skin. You look to his face seeing the blisters heal and you cup his face.

“What-“ you mutter checking him over besides his charred clothes he’s fine. Your names are called, Professor Charles, Jean and Storm appearing outside the door.

“She’s alright” Logan calls not breaking eye contact as you check him over some more. You grip his arms in slight confusion.

“What?, why did-?” You speak quietly looking at his healed body again. You sniff as you realise you’re touching him.

“I’m sorry” you let his arms go, hands and body shaking as you wipe your tears.

“I’m sorry I-“ you gulp a little looking to the Professor.

“It’s alright” he says smiling softly as you shudder and look back to the alpha in front of you.

It was stupid, fighting with Jean for no reason, he was on edge, like a caged animal craving food. He took it out on a few kitchen cupboards and a fridge before Jean confronted him and then he broke loose. God help him. Jean took it, strong and calm like the alpha she was while he turned into some hot headed dick head alpha you always see in the news. He knew why though, you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, that sweet scent that attacked every fibre in his body when you first saw him. You went into some kind of shock staring at him, glancing a Jean occasionally trying to get your words to work, he found it cute as your cheeks went red and you silently battled with yourself. He’d smelt you on Jean before, wondering why the hell she smelt like sweet omega before he met you and our scent to face. Too young to be a professor too old to be a student. Walking past you when he left he resisted the urge to press his nose into your hair and breathe deeply. Then your scent went dull, every time he passed you, you were unaffected and he was finding himself more and more annoyed he couldn’t catch your scent. He’d watch you when you were going about your day, how you blended in with everything yet all he say was you like a ray of sunshine. He didn’t know your power, found it too weird to ask one of his fellow teachers or the professor. He’s unsure when you arrived, during the mission he last went on when took a few months more than he wanted. He never saw you in training and wondering what your mutation was, he could smell it in your scent you were a mutant, what it was though he couldn’t tell.

He was fighting with Jean for no reason again, it had been a month and he was restless more than ever. He’d gone to Charles to beg for a mission, but there was nothing to be done no mutant to save and he was always controlling his claws. He heard someone outside this time though and they didn’t go making him frown before a shot went through him and whoever it was went away. He left quickly then, following the dull scent he wish wasn’t so dull, he heard your sobbing felt it almost, felt the heat too and frowned. Something snapped and he needed to be near you, by you, help you with whatever the hell is going on. Your cry spurred him on and he broke down the door. Your room wasn’t what he expected, all the other kids rooms were nicely wooden and furnished with whatever decorations they had yours though, yours was metal, metal floor, wall and ceiling, metal sealed door to what he assumed was the bathroom. A single bed now in flames alone with the bedside tables and their contents. You were panicking, no scent blocker could hide the sour scent that tingled his nose in an unnatural way. He forced through those flames hearing you sob, he needed to be by you now. It was hot, hotter than a normal fire as he approached. He knelt in front of you ignoring your protest, he gritted his teeth in pain at the flames in his skin, charring his clothes, blistering his skin. Something snapped inside you and the flames reeled in and a new panic settled over. He heard the others before you as you cried, shaky hands hovering over his wounds as he stared. You froze though, seeing his wounds healing as he let out a small sigh. Your shaky hands held his hands, checked his wounds, his body, watching his face heal before cupping it in your hand. You were calmer now, still shaken but you weren’t engulfed in fire and neither was he. Your apologies made his heart break in ways he’d forgotten, the tears in your eyes as you kept your hands on him, grounding yourself with him. You realised soon you’d been touching him, cheeks redder than before as you retract, his head tilting slightly. Before your eyes were back on his again. A single word running through his mind. Mine.

Next part ->

[noctxj]

hanahaki disease “… in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies…”

part i / part ii / part iii / part iv

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

warm.

too warm.

a scorching heat—

this isn’t what agent imagined being dead would be like, but they guess the fires of hell weren’t called fires for nothing. 

…

no, thats not it.

the engulfing warmth slowly cleared up the haze within agents mind, finally allowing them to properly assess their physical state. 

nothing broken… nothing torn… so far so good…

… throat remains sore though…

an instinctual habit they’d adopted during their early days, particularly after a gruelling contract gone sideways or a bumpy operation with the taskforce—

they’re here. they came.

agents’ mind screeching to a halt as all of a sudden the events of the last few (?) hours flashed behind their closed eyes.

the bloodied flowers.

painpainpain—

the doctor.

savemesavemesaveme—

their initially slow and aching climb to consciousness now shattered as their inner turmoil translates to abrupt stirring of their limbs. agents’ brows furrowing in discomfort; panic and fear steadily fuelling the turbulence of their memories and emotions clashing against one another.

scheduled to carve them out of agents body—

to heal them. make them better.

so that—johnsimonjohnnykyle—would never find out—

undeservingundeservingundeserving—

agent didn’t feel the comforting warmth shift beneath—around? them, too lost in the storm brewing within their mind. slender, tanned fingers anchoring itself firmly to the back of agents’ neck, as if to gently coax them to stay in the present little love.

a gentle huff exhaled through agents’ lips, as if their body instinctually understood that command, trying to respond with an exasperated I’m trying, to only which an even more exasperated tutsounding beside—in front? of them. only for a new snap of blurred images of the taskforce spill through agents’ mind; all of them surrounding agent as they vomited out bloody flowers. the cause of their absence, the reason why agent (desperately) distanced themselves from the taskforce. agents’ secret now literally spilt out in front of them—

nononono— 

theyknowtheyknowtheyknow—

pleasedoneleavemepleasedoneleavemeplease—!!

agents’ eyelids slowly blinked open, the effects of the anaesthetic still present in their system; but not impossible for their restless panic and fear to demand control of their body. a soft gasp escaping their lips as they (thankfully) register the dimmed lights of the seemingly familiar room—bedroom? yes, their private living quarters within the clinic (and for any subsequent visits, per the doctors words). the soft hues of browns and deep greens evoking a comforting ambiance. however, agent wasn’t able to appreciate this as their senses seemed to finally catch up to their distressed minds’ demands—

agent was lying on top of someone.

ah shit.

their cheek pressed against a solid chest covered in a soft cotton shirt. the stranger—

no. not a stranger. they smell—

like comfort (home). 

earthy. a tinge of sweetness.

a brilliant smile—

kyle. 

they were lying on top of kyle of all people.

this time agent feeling a different sense of panic— an embarrassed one; their cheeks heating up. agent now forcefully trying to pump their blood through their body faster. getting ready to bolt—

strong, rough fingers gently interlocked with one of agents’ squeezed as if being able to read their train of thought now now, none of that lass.

johnny.

agents’ vision sharpening in clarity after each blink, their eyes trailing from their interlocked fingers, up a strong arm and shoulder to electric blue eyes peering into agents’ own, from a seat besides the bed they were lying upon. a soft smile stretching across johnnys face as he placed a chaste kiss upon the back of agents’ hand.

whatthefu— 

“there’s our wee little bon’, had us scared for a bit there. but now we ‘ken finally see those beautiful eyes of yers!”

always a fucking flirt—

“johnny, behave”

a gravelly, tired voice sounded out from the back wall closest to the door.

positioned like a big, scary guard dog— 

simon.

of course, the human equivalent of a (double-layered) brick wall was always prepared. focused. agent redirecting their wide eyes to simons’ intimidating mass, only to meet dark whisky pools behind a plain black balaclava already boring onto agents. johnny only humming in response as he continued to lightly brush his lips back and forth over agents’ hand.

whatthehell—

“johnny”

“soap, stop being such a shit”

“oi ‘am not bein’ a shite—“

“of course the first thing our little love is subjected to upon waking up, is you lots’ clucking like hens” a deep, smooth voice intercepts the sergeants’ bickering. johnny immediately pursing his lips in defiance, with kyle cracking an awkward, sheepish smile at the captain. meanwhile simon seemed content to continue blending into the shadow of the wall.

john.

standing in the seemingly minuscule doorway with his burly arms crossed over his chest and a bushy eyebrow arched, unimpressed. his clear azure eyes flickering between johnny and kyle, as if daring them to bite back.

agent, now definitely wide awake, rips their hand from johnny’s and immediately moves away from kyle’s comforting warmth as if burned, their legs now dangling over the side of the bed, intent to stand before the captain in their already disgraceful state. only for a wave of queasiness to slam across their body.

moved to much too fast—

was agents’ fleeting thought as their upper body lazily swayed forward, the taskforce swarming to them. kyle gently grasping one shoulder, johnny planting both hands on agents’ waist, simon’s broad palm curling against their collarbone, and john gently cradling agents’ face between his rough, calloused hands.

“shhh, hey easy now. take deep breaths for me love”

john rumbled as he ducked his head down to keep eye contact with agents’ wide, frantic eyes. the close proximity, the gentleness, washing over agents’ skin in waves.

“c-captain--“

agent finally managed to warble out from between their stinging lips, johns gaze softening further as his thumbs swept gently across agents’ cheeks.

“—why are you here? why are you all here?”

john didn’t appear phased at all with the question, seemingly content to continue rubbing soothing motions across agents’ touch-starved cheeks. only for the uncomfortable (yet familiar) drag of something sharp at the base of their throat to slowly unwind.

no—

please—

notrightnow—

“tryin’ to find you ‘f course”

agent’s brows furrowed in disbelief, as they had informed him— the captain, of their absence—

“had somethin’ important to say. all of us had’ ta’ tell ya’ somethin’— it just couldn’t wait”

they had had enough of me—

the vicious thorns continuing a slow and continuously deepening drag against the walls of their throat.

a liability to the taskforce—

luscious plumes of soft flowers causing a suffocating sensation.

notenough—

“we love you”

john— the captain of taskforce 141’s voice seemed to bounce against the walls of the room. 

what—

“all of us love you, lass” johhny crooned gently. 

lieslieslies—

“we didn’t know it in the beginnin’— buncha’ muppets we all were”

simons’ rough voice interjected agents’ twisting thoughts, his gaze so so soft as they mapped the corners of their face in reverence.

how—

“didn’t know then, but we know now—“ kyle softly continued on from simons words.

they couldn’t be—

“— that all of our love belongs to you” he murmured against the back of agents’ neck, his soft lips and warm breath feeling so right—

“our little love” john murmured, moving even closer to rest his forehead against agents own, a shudder rolling through them, “ours to always love.”

agent felt something within them break.

they could finally breathe—

a desperate sob spilling out of agent as their tears dripped down onto johns hands still cradling their cheeks, grabbing onto his wrists as if to remove them from their mess, as if in apology, only for the captain to wipe away agents’ tears with a tenderness agent didn’t even know existed.

theylovemetheylovemetheyloveme—

“i—“ they hiccup, voice interrupted by their sniffles.

itsokayitsokayitsokay—

“i love you to”

imsafeimsafeimsafe—

“I love all of you”

im home—

agent squeaking out in surprise as john connects his nose with agents, half lidded eyes unwavering from agents’ own. johnny resting his head upon their thigh, a look of pure adoration shining in his sky blue eyes as they gaze upon agents’ sweet face. simon replacing his palm resting upon their collarbone with his cheek, tucking his nose against the crook of agents’ neck. and kyle fully resting his lips against the back of agents’ neck, softly inhaling their addictive scent. 

the agonising pain of the thorn and flowers gone from agents’ body. the cuts on their lips, both fresh and old disappearing as if they hadn’t haunted agent for weeks whenever they looked into the mirror. the suffocating struggle of breathing now absent from agents’ lungs and throat. everything appearing so much clearer, brighter—

and for the first time in their life, agent felt weightless, felt warm. 

and it was all because of them that

agent feels love.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

tric’s notes

anddd we’ve made it to the end!! thanks to everyone whose read and enjoyed this story! ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡

this is my first completed fanfic series so feel free to leave feedback and comments, i'd love to hear your thoughts (o´〰`o)♡*✲ﾟ*｡

crossposted on ao3 (same username!) 

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

M!troll x f!reader

1.5k words, probably should have just combined it with the next part but I’m trying to keep them under 2k words each

Things have settled into a comfortable routine with Zen’jan and while you would not say the two of you were close you did seem to have an understanding. That is until one morning you wake up to find breakfast half started and Zen’jan nowhere to be found.

————

Honestly, you did not want to admit it, but Zen’jan had not done a bad job of taking care of you. Sure, he could be annoyingly persistent, but he made sure you took your pain medicine around the clock, drew hot baths for you whenever you wanted, chatted with you and kept you entertained, you even caved and asked him to rub your knees and ankles at one point.

Whenever you asked him if it was alright that he was staying home with you he almost seemed offended, telling you over and over “my wife does not feel well, of course it is alright to stay home”.

You could not image back in your kingdom that a king’s advisor would ever be able to just stay home with their spouse like this. Or even want to.

It felt weirdly quiet the first day he went back to his routine and left you home all day. You were not feeling up to going out into the city and exploring, though Bira came by and brought you lunch and spent time keeping you company, probably at Zen’jan’s request. It was almost a relief when he got back that night, his presence once more bringing warmth to your small home. As always he lit the hearth to drive off the pervasive chill that set in at sundown and began to unpack the food he picked up at a nearby tavern for the two of you.

“You know, you do not have to wait for me to light the hearth every night, I know you must get cold before then” he said as he brought you dinner while you stayed in bed wrapped in blankets and sat on the floor next to the bed as usual.

“I don’t know how to” you admitted.

“You do not know how to light a fire?”

“No? I’ve never needed to”.

“Then I will teach you in the morning” he insisted, “What if I have to meet late with the council? Or if I have to travel? I do not like thinking that you will just sit here and freeze. I do not mind taking care of you and doing things for you, but I would like to know that you can take care of yourself if I am away”.

You gave him a small nod, unfortunately he was right and it would not kill you to learn a few life skills.

The two of you ate in silence, only occasionally punctuated by Zen’jan trying to strike up a conversation, as he usually did. Thankfully after dinner he tended to just leave you be, letting you read or work on your own projects in peace while he bathed and then poured over documents from the council until you both went to bed and tonight was no exception.

Morning always came quickly, though this morning was quiet. No fire crackling in the hearth or sounds of cooking.

You rolled out of bed and remembered that Zen’jan had insisted on teaching you how to light the hearth, though he was no where to be found. All around the hearth were the usual breakfast ingredients, some wood and coals, and the flint and steel he typically used to light the hearth, but no sign of him.

You waited for a while, figuring that maybe he just stepped out to go pick something up, but time came and passed and still no Zen’jan.

At this you worried a little, surely if he was summoned to the council he would have woken you up to let you know? And clearly he started to get everything ready for breakfast, but why would he just leave? Determine to get some answers you quickly dressed yourself and decided to pay Bira a visit, if anyone knew where he was then surely it was her.

You made your way across the city and to her home, knocking on the door and hoping she would answer.

Bira opened up and gave you a confused smile, “Usually I come knocking on your door. What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Zen’jan today?” you blurted out.

“No, I can’t say I have, but he’s probably just at the hold in a council meeting. Have you tried there?”

“I haven’t, but it’s just weird. He makes breakfast everyone morning, and he wanted me to learn how to light the hearth this morning, but when I got up everything for breakfast was pulled out but he wasn’t there and I waited for ages and-”

Bira cut you off, “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably just got an urgent summons and didn’t want to wake you. Just go ask the guards at the hold, I’m sure they’ll let you know he’s there and just busy”.

“Yeah, you’re probably right” you sighed, not really convinced but it did not hurt to check.

The good news was that outside the hold you recognized one of the guards, Ba’tual, one of Zen’jan’s closest friends and a member of the king’s guard. The bad news is that you recognized one of the guards and it was Ba’tual.

“Why hello my little friend” he smiled as you approached.

Much like Zen’jan, Ba’tual was was tall and well built, though unlike how Zen’jan spent a lot of time making himself look smaller and less imposing, Ba’tual seemed to enjoy looming over people.

“Ba’tual” you greeted him shortly, “Have you seen Zen’jan?”

“You’re his wife, do you not know where your own husband is?” he smiled back.

“Just tell me if you’ve seen him, I’m not in the mood for games”. You still were not sure how Zen’jan tolerated Ba’tual much less was good friends with him. Ba’tual was loud and boastful, often chatting up anyone he thought he could get to go home with for the night, and unfortunately it seemed to work pretty often.

He was also unsettling in a way you could not quite put your finger on. He moved unnaturally quiet much the same way Zen’jan did, but there was something about his mere presence that often sent a chill down your spine. Maybe it was the few war stories you heard about him from your father’s men returning from the war, at least you figured Ba’tual had to be the man in the stories based on descriptions. Supposedly he had a penchant for unnecessary violence in fights and had a cruel streak during the war. It was something that made you wary of him and concerned about anyone who would call him a friend, Zen’jan included.

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you, well he actually actually say he didn’t tell you, but I really didn’t believe him” he trailed off.

“Just tell me where he is”.

“He showed up at my door this morning, he’s staying there for now since he didn’t feel like he could ask for your help”.

“Just take me to him” you snapped.

Ba’tual said a few words in orcish to the other guard before looking back your way, “If you insist” he shrugged, “Try to keep up”.

His strides were long as the two of you wound your way through the city, you taking nearly two full steps for each of his one, out of breath by the time you reached Ba’tual’s home.

“Perhaps you can be a bit kinder to your husband, he’s trying his best” Ba’tual said as he unlocked the door and let you in.

Without looking up Zen’jan called out in the troll language from where he sat at the table pouring over reports and documents. You had not heard him speak it since your first day in the city when the two of you were married. The language was almost melodic with the rises and falls in pitch, and while you did not know what Zen’jan said his tone did seemed a lot happier than usual.

“It’s not just me, Zen” Ba’tual called to him.

Zen’jan looked up, first looking at you with confusion, then something akin to disappointment. His shoulders slumped forward and he glanced up at you, looking very nervous.

You wanted to yell at him, annoyed at how worried you were that something awful happened just to find him hanging out at a friend’s house, but you could not bring yourself to. Whatever was going on did not seem to be an emergency, but something definitely felt off.

“Take this back to your place, I’m not getting in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel” Ba’tual warned.

Zen’jan looked between you and Ba’tual, seemingly deciding what to do before he gathered up his papers and slunk towards the door.

“You” Ba’tual directed to Zen’jan, “Need to explain this to your wife. And you” he turned to face you, “Need to be kinder to him”.

You walked side by side with Zen’jan in silence on your way home, close enough where his arm kept brushing yours and he kept looking down at you as if he wanted to say something. The way he looked disappointed to see you at Ba’tual’s house weighed on you, he always smiled and seemed happy to see you when he got home or when you first woke up. He always greeted you with warmth. Maybe Ba’tual was right, maybe you should be nicer to him.

Part 5

[multifariousqueer]

im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH

also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩

Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:

A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷

Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet

3:00 AM

You: miles, baby are you okay?

Seen

You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?

Seen

You: I didn’t mean it

You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷

Seen

You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.

“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality

Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).

However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.

You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:

“Miles?”-you whisper shouted

“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain

You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:

“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension

Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.

“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly

“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled

“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone

He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:

“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.

“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled

It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:

“I love you, Y/n” he said

“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly

“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said

You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:

“Y/n!!!”

“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck

“Breakfast is ready” they shouted

You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.

“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel

“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck

“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled

“Por supesto, Mami” he replied

You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:

“Y/n?” Your parent said

“Yeah?” You replied

“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked

Damn it Miles

Translations

Por supesto- of course

[muffinsin]

Greetings. I know thyeth awaiteds of trial, aka, thoueths inbox, is full of requests, so, if thou doth perchance chooseth to bless thy anon, by choosing to grant myith humble pleads, take your time.

I sincerely ask of thou to consider thy dumb lil giggleshits by writing about the dimitrescu sisters (seperate, not as a polycule) reactions to their s/o (thats us!!! Thats you!!!) outright demanding to be 'bitten better' after getting a large wound/scar/scab or something, because, like, if im correct, thats just like, alot of ur bloodcells rising to reform damaged skin??? or something?? Idk. I failed science. I just think it would be funny to be like '(BELA/CASSANDRA/DANIELA), GIT OVER HERE AND BITE ME,, I HAVE PLACES TO BE AND I DO NOT NEED TO EXPLAIN TO PEOPLE HOW I TRIPPED AND FELL ONTO THE HANDLE (?? Do they have handles?) OF UR DUMB (friggen) SICKLE!!!"

I thanketh thee for thoueth time.

with utmost respect, thoueths truely,

Corvina, aka, stupid, medieval-talking dork.

-⚔️🧷

Haha I love this!! XD That’s some fancy talk right there🧐🎩! (Cassandra likes to insist on your point, biting to make her lover feel better. She’s just helping, really!)

Now, let’s get into this!🙌 :)

Masterlists

Bela

You’re bored, waiting for your girlfriend to finish up her work

Really, you doubt it will ever be finished, but at the very least Bela promised to set limits for herself as it comes to work, to avoid overworking herself, and to allow her to spend more time with you

Now, she probably would be more motivated to wrap things up immediately if she knew what you’re up to

Bored as you are, you desperately need something to do

And really, the castle- or village in general- doesn’t offer too much that doesn’t include murder

And even that isn’t your thing, at the very least not without Bela

As such you find yourself sitting at the unoccupied desk in her room, lazily playing with the sickle she left there for her nightly hunt

You’re sure she wouldn’t mind! After all, it’s not like you’re breaking it!

You’re merely playing with it!

What could go-

You flinch when it slips from you, then yelp when it’s sharp blade slices through your inner thigh, then falls from the chair and to the ground, at last laying bloodied between your shaking legs

Oh oh…

You whine a little as you look down at the cut, deep, but hardly lethal

The sight of the bloodied flesh and the feeling of the painful ache surrounding it is enough to have you run off to find Bela

Which is precisely why you find yourself the way you do now, sat down in her office chair, your face flushed and cheeks burning up as you look down at her

Her lips and tongue tending to your cut, her body below you as she kneels between your legs

Needless to say, it’s an explicit looking image, one that has your entire body tingle

Yet, the glare she shoots you over and over again has your thoughts stay in the gutter

You pat her hair apologetically, scratching softly at her scalp just the way she likes it

Soon enough, thankfully, your cut stops bleeding and no longer aches this much

Still, you know her work is not yet done

As such, you send her a shy smile, apologizing for foolishly playing with her weapon yet again

You don’t think it wise to point out that you only did so because you were bored. Her glare is deadly enough as is

Though, it’s adorable how her eyes soften when you scratch her scalp just right

And, admittedly, she looks adorable with her lips and chin stained in your blood

You gasp when she bites down beside the cut, then at the other side

Again and again, and again and again does she tend to the gentle bites

Soon, your entire thigh is throbbing, but experience tells you the sensation will pass soon and the skin will heal fast

You lean back against the chair as she rises and reaches into her drawer

You throw her a weak smile when she bandages you up, and can’t help but grin when she kisses your forehead

Your cheeks heat up again when she grabs your face, raising an eyebrow at you

Still, you can’t help but smile at her

“Don’t touch my things again”, she warns, her tone playful

You nod, happily taking the kiss you receive in return

Cassandra

You love Cassandra

You love every part of her, treasure her sadism and need to cause trouble as much as her rare, softer sides

You love her creativity, her love for the crafts

You love her weapons, and love that she builds and collects them

What you love less, however, is that she has a habit of leaving them out

And not only in the armory, out of their assigned spots

Not even only in her room, which is more like a battlefield with sickles and swords, axes and daggers scattered across the ground and the desks

No, your girlfriend instead leaves her weapons all around the castle for everyone to stumble into

Such as today

Admittedly, you were a little careless today, a little spaced out, not very conscious of your actions…admittedly, she told you not to be that at the castle

But, your little hypocrite of a girlfriend is just that, too!

Only has she never had an accident like this…

If she did, you’d regret not having it on camera

You open the closet, half humming to yourself, half zoned out

That is, until one of the weapons she stupidly forgot in there falls

She’s likely shut the closet with the weapon leaning against its door, careless as usual, or perhaps waiting for a maid to open her little death trap next

Instead, it’s you

You hiss and flinch away, yelling in all; surprise, anger, shock, fear and pain as your arm is sliced open

Blood drips from it and you immediately slap your palm across the cut, gritting your teeth at the searing pain

Not lethal, but likely to leave a scar

And still, your scream and the scent of your blood immediately attracts attention

When Cassandra swarms inside, you briefly allow yourself to think of grabbing the damn sickle and whacking it across her head, before grasping her shoulders and shaking her until your little troublemaker of a girlfriend begins to clean up her things

Countless times have you told her to be more careful!

To stop leaving her sharp tools everywhere!

By the look in your eye, the open closet and the sickle on the ground she immediately figures out what must have happened

In her eyes, you find worry, mixed with guilt and embarrassment

She knows, she’s about to get an earful and you aren’t likely to let her off the hook for that one anytime soon

She attempts to shoot you a smile, and while normally you’d return it, the pain has you only scowl at her in a mix of annoyance, love, and anger

You decide, she caused this

And she will fix it

Naturally

“Down”, you groan, clutching the bleeding cut on your arm

With surprising submission, she falls to her knees, her eyes wide and a surprised gasp falling from her lips when you press your arm to her face

It doesn’t even take a second for her to latch on

Gently, she pries your skin away to lick at the blood, her tongue slow and steady, her movements careful rather than bloodthirsty and wild

She knows, she isn’t really allowed to feed from you now

She’s meant to fix her mistake, so long as she doesn’t want to sleep on the cold side of the bed, something she detests, when her favorite spot is on top of you

Nonetheless, your girlfriend is moaning at your taste immediately, rolling her eyes subtly when you ramble on and scold her

You roll your eyes back at her playfully

You can’t truly be angry at her, not when her tongue and teeth are already working wonders at numbing the throbbing pain in your arm

You allow her to work on the wound for what feels like half an hour, sending flies onto the skin here and there

You aren’t entirely willing to think about their spit on you, but appreciate it when you feel your skin first tingle, then pull together slightly again

At the very least, your loving sadist knows how to treat wounds

Daniela

Some might call you clumsy

“Some” including your girlfriend and her sisters, and perhaps even yourself, if you swallow down your pride

And really, it doesn’t take all that much for you to get into trouble

Especially with your girlfriend, trouble is pretty much on the menu each day

What clumsiness you have, your girlfriend often adds to with her carelessness

As such, there have been countless incidents of running through the castle and slipping on some of the blood she carelessly spilled in the halls

Or the times she left her weapons out

Now that, is disaster waiting to happen

Often, more often than you’d like to admit, you end up injuring yourself with them somehow

Such as today

You’re racing past the halls again, eager to find your girlfriend

You know just where, too

The library, her favorite spot on a cool day like this

You giggle at the thought of her curled up by the fire, cuddled up among countless pillows and such

As you daydream, you begin to pay less and less attention to where you’re going

Or rather, what’s in your way

As such, you don’t see the sharp blade of her favourite sword sticking out of the vase in your way until the last second

And as such, your happiness is quickly interrupted when you catch a glimpse of it and quickly try to dodge it

Only does “dodging it” mean stumbling over your legs, failing to catch yourself on the railing of the stairs and tumbling down

The worst?

This isn’t the first time you accidentally fell down the stairs to the main hall

As you clutch your hip in pain, you can’t help but think:

You can’t let Cassandra and Bela know of this. Their teasing would never end!

Daniela though…surely she can keep her mouth shut if you confide in her

Besides, the ugly bruise on your hip should be treated

And who better to treat it than your lover?

When you find her, she’s over the moon to see you

She immediately abandons her blankets and pillows, books and snacks to wrap her arms around you

Still, worry, then humor glistens in her eyes when you wince a little once her hand connects with your hip

It seems, it only takes her a few moments to figure out what must have happened

Or at the very least that you got yourself into trouble again

You roll your eyes as she giggles, allowing her to lead you to her spot among the books

Below you is a thick, fluffy blanket, surrounding you and supporting your head are perfect pillows

You feel yourself starting to relax already, slowly lifting your shirt to expose the forming bruise at your hip

She coos a little at it

Then, a kiss is placed to it, and you can’t help but smile again

You will always take your girlfriend kissing your wounds better

Stroking her hair and relaxing against the pillows, you feel her teeth gently sink into the skin around the bruise

Never too much, nor too deep

Just right

Just enough for your skin to tingle and throb a little

You whisper a little, speaking of what happened

And she listens, only occasionally hums against your skin or presses kisses to it

Soon, you feel your hip calm again, instead she moves on top of you

“Want me to kiss it better some more?”, she asks, a sly grin forming at her lips

How could you refuse?

[bearlyfunctioning]

Comic #321: AI Image generation - Website links: Here! I'm real tired of having to stand up for ethical issues that seem like they should be self explanatory. So tired I don't even have the energy to 'debate' about it anymore... that doesn't mean I feel any less passionate about it though. So if you're here to argue in favor of the CURRENT use of Stable Diffusion trained AI, I'm just going to block you & enjoy my holiday time. Thankfully there are many people more eloquent than I, tackling this issue and it's common rebuttals: Like this essay: https://youtu.be/tjSxFAGP9Ss Or this thread: https://twitter.com/wickedinsignia/.....21617156706305 All of which I largely agree with. Support your artists, while we're still around.

[vanpire]

help with pet expenses

hi, my cat marceline who i literally love more than anything in the whole world has had a ton of health issues in the past few months, and has needed 2 surgeries, a blood transfusion, several stays at the ICU, tons of imaging tests, blood tests and medications. she also had to have a feeding tube for a while. all of this has been insanely expensive. thankfully shes doing a lot better now! there will still be more expenses though, and i cant even pay off what ive already spent. i had to use my credit card to pay for all this and i dont have money to pay the bill this month.

the bill is due in a few days and i need R$1000 in brazilian currency, which is around $200 USD. dollars and euros go a long way here! any amount is very helpful, and if you cant donate i would really appreciate if you could share this ❤️ and if any brazilians are able to donate, meu pix é rumijennings@gmail.com

ppal kofi