#trying to get over my fear of heights lol

[fithragaer]

Cities are pretty at night….

[rafeandonlyrafe]

feeling generous

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dubcon!!, blackmail!!, blowjob, cum eating???, voyeurism, public sex, car crash but like its in a parking lot lol, pogue!/broke!reader

“shit, shit, shit.” you groan, quickly putting the car into drive and moving a few feet, cringing when you hear the crunch of metal coming undone. you throw the car into park and hop out to see your worst fears actualized.

“are you fucking blind?” the shout makes you jump. you didn't even realize that the owner of the car was sat in the driver's seat.

“im-im so so sorry.” you shake your head quickly, surveying the damage. you caught their back bumper with your own, the red paint from their car flaking onto your silver one. “i-i didn't see how close-”

“no shit you didn't see! jesus fucking christ, do you know how expensive this car is?” he shouts, standing to his full height and slamming the car door closed. you don't know how much the car is, but judging by the look of it and the man driving it, certainly not cheap. “this is a custom paint job too.” 

he places his hands on his hips, eyes shifting between glaring at the ruined back end of his car and you.

“insurance and id. now.” he huffs out. “before i call the cops.”

your eyes widen. you have the minimum required insurance, and even that payment is killing you, there's no way you'll be able to afford it if you get an increase for a crash.

“can i pay you out of pocket?” you offer, clearing your throat, trying to keep a level head.

“no way you're able to afford it.” his eyes turn towards your car. it's old, a junker, but gets you around fine enough. and best part, it was free, a hand me down after your grandma bought a newer car.

“i-i probably cant, but i can't afford the insurance increase either and i- we can work something out. please.” you don't care how pathetic it is, you'll get down on your knees in the parking lot if you have to. you're not beyond begging and pleading.

he looks you up and down before grunting, heading back towards his car. your feet spring into action, grabbing onto his wrist, not wanting him to reach for his phone.

“no, please, sir-”

“rafe.” he says, hand twisting so now he's the one holding your wrist. “my name is rafe.”

“oh.” you blink up at him before responding. “my name is y/n”

“you shouldn't have told me.” rafe holds his hand up. “in case i change my mind. you're lucky im feeling generous today.”

“oh my god, thank you so much!” you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“don't thank me yet, darling.” his gaze turns dark as he looks down at you, only now realizing how tall he is, how he towers over you.

“what do you mean?” you question.

rafe takes your hand gripped tightly in his fist, turning it and bringing it down to place it on his crotch. your eyes widen when he moves your fingers back and forth over his shorts, stroking along your length.

“i- what are you doing?” you try to pull your hand away, but he's holding on too tightly.

“it's either this or we can get insurance involved.” rafe looks at you, the shiny lip gloss smeared over your mouth. you may be a broke pogue, but your mouth should be good enough to please him, to ease some of the tension from getting his car hit.

“im not a prostitute.” you say, certainly not meaning this when offering to work something out.

“yet you're gonna get on your knees and suck me off. or i call the cops.”

“right here?” you look around the parking lot. it's pretty empty, but it's the middle of the day, the sun shining down on you, making the illicit act obvious to anyone who looks between where your two cars are parked.

“yeah.” he shrugs, pressing your hand harder into his crotch. he's obviously hard, seemingly almost painfully so.

you look back to the damage, the cherry red color that you're sure isn't stock, and then sink down to your knees. rafe smirks down at you as he drops his hand away from your wrist, light purple bruises already forming.

you gulp and resolve yourself to what you're about to do, tugging at his zipper before undoing the button on his shorts. you open up the flaps, eyes widening when you take in his length through his underwear.

rafe chuckles before pushing the elastic down to pull his cock out, exposing it to the warm summer air.

“suck.” he simply commands.

you open your mouth, taking an experimental lick at his tip, surprised that the taste isn't completely repulsive. you lick again before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

“come on.” he spurs you on. “do it good or ill cum in your mouth and still make you pay.”

the threat has you moving quickly, sinking down onto his cock, closing your eyes so you don't have to see rafe looking down at you. he may be attractive, but you're still getting forced to do this. 

“ahh, that's good.” he groans as you set a quick pace, bobbing your head up and down. you pray no one pulls into this part of the parking lot or looks your way. you'd be absolutely mortified to be seen on your knees for a man in the middle of the day, not even going into his car to suck him off.

rafes hands grip your hair, pulling them into two makeshift pigtails.

he lets you stay in control for a while longer before he gets sick of you sucking him off however you please. he shoves his hips forward, causing you to gag when his cock buries deep in your throat.

rafe doesn't give you time to recover, thrusting while holding your head still by the hair, tears now streaming down your eyes as he pushes in then out, in then out.

“fuck, you're actually good.” rafe chuckles. just his luck the dumb bitch who hit his car gives good head, your throat tightening as you swallow around him with every thrust.

you feel the combination of drool and tears drip down your chin, hoping rafe cums soon so this can end.

you place your hands on his thighs as your knees dig into the pavement. your jeans are going to be completely ruined by the time rafe is done with you, but at least you'll have money to buy a new pair.

you feel rafes cock swell in your mouth, your eyes widening to look up at him, the sun behind his head, illuminating him in a perfect halo, but he's no angel.

rafe pulls his cock out before he can cum. you stick your tongue out, knowing exactly what to expect as rafe strokes himself quickly, moaning as if he doesn't care about being seen as his cock shoots out ropes of white cum onto your face and awaiting tongue.

he taps the tip against your tongue, smearing it through the mess of white. “kiss it.”

it's humiliating, but not any more than what just happened. you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the tip of his cock, seeing that it's already beginning to soften.

rafe tucks his cock back in as you pant on the ground, hands coming to your thighs as you try to gain composure.

“hey.” rafes voice has you looking back up, your eyes widening when you see he's got his phone now, taking a picture of your disheveled state, face still covered in his cum.

“what was that for?” you shout.

“part of your repayment in case you ever try to go back on our agreement.” you understand what rafe means. in case you try to tell anyone he forced you into it.

rafe smiles when the look of acceptance sinks into your features as you resign to your fate. he bends down, looking you in the eye before his tongue presses against your jaw, dragging up your cheek, tracing the trail of your tears, not caring that he also tastes his own cum on his tongue. 

“see you around.” he smirks, swallowing your tears dramatically as he gets into his car, speeding away before you even get your knees off the ground.

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[umbrellacam]

Have any Dick & Tim fic recs for us poor unfortunate souls? We’re hungry for brotherisms

I feel you anon, there can never be too many Dick & Tim brotherism fics! 😊 I had a great time wading through my bookmarks to pull some recs (and inevitably lose a bunch of time re-reading things lol), so thanks for the ask!

so I've organized the below first by general time period, then categories like Canon Divergence and Alternate Universe. I've also limited myself to fics that have a clear focus on Dick & Tim as the primary relationship (although some of them include other characters or ensembles).

Hope that you find something new that you enjoy, friend!!

A Thousand Ninjas, by @silverwhittlingknife (100k WIP series) - Silver's fantastic epic that covers the span of Dick and Tim's relationship in preboot canon. Some of the individual works are WIP, others are complete - just read them all, okay, you will not regret

Dick and Tim, through the years: from Lonely Place of Dying, through Tim's Robin years, and beyond Red Robin. "Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I'm going to do my act - 'specially for you." (B 441) "Who the hell are you?" (NT 60) "Dick Grayson is my brother. My best friend." (R 181) "You're my equal. My closest ally." (RR 1) "I can't see him. You can't see him. But I know Robin. And Robin's always there when you need him." (TT/O Secret Files) "You're my brother. You'll always be there for me." (RR 12) "And then I think... no... it's for Tim. For him, a thousand ninjas is just the start of what I would do." (N 138)

EARLY ROBIN TIM

Brothers Have the Worst Timing, by @havendance (1k) - god I love Tim just popping up randomly to be the most annoying little brother ever, and frankly there's no better time for it than during Nightwing/Huntress, when he can bother both Dick and Helena at once.

Tim crashes Dick and Helena’s ill-advised one-night stand; this is awkward for everyone involved.

A Long Fall with a Sudden Stop, by @eggmacguffin (5.1k) - Interesting and appropriately awful take on fear toxin, with a relatively young Robin!Tim having to manage an incapacitated Dick. Also good Dick & Bruce content.

Dick Grayson was not and never has been afraid of heights. However, there were moments, moments in the wake of tragedy, in the midst of doubt, where he was deathly afraid of falling. — Dick Grayson. Fear Toxin.

Little Brothers and Stupid Ideas, by lazarusfell / @gretahayes (2k) - Tim breaking into Dick's apartment to be a neurotic little dork at him, my beloved.

Dick doesn't think he'll ever get used to his little brother's idiosyncrasies. It's like whenever he thinks the kid can't get any weirder, he decides to just blow Dick out of the water with some new abnormality. It's endearing.

LATE ROBIN TIM

lifeline, by me c: (~700) - just a ficlet, but I'm still fond of it, so. set nebulously post-Infinite Crisis, after both brothers' Really Bad Year.

At a low moment, Dick thinks he needs to catch Tim, and he just - can't. Tim catches him instead.

a soft place to land, by unchosenone / @bitimdrake (3k) - set during the OYL cruise around the world; gorgeous brotherly feels and support and absolutely adopted as personal canon.

Tim rubs the back of his head, trying to affect a joking tone. “I knew I should’ve just gone for the new escrima sticks.” Dick is ready to be a good big brother to his grieving little bro. Tim flips the script.

ribbons just beyond the eye, by silverwhittlingknife (5.9k) - you know how Dick and Tim had their island adventure in NW #143, and afterward they had to swim out several miles to where they parked the Batsub because the remote stopped working, and Dick talked about making a pit stop in Palermo to visit a "great little Italian restaurant that serves a great ciambellone for dessert"? Well, this is what happens when they do, and it's lovely.

Two weeks after their fight over the Lazarus Pits, Dick and Tim go on a trip, and Dick confronts some old memories.

RED ROBIN / BATMAN REBORN (Dick!Bats) ERA

Brothers, by KelpieCodyne (8.5k) - a refreshing and measured look at the divisive events of Red Robin, from Dick’s perspective. bashes no one, hurray!

Bruce is dead, Dick is Batman, and his brother is floundering. In a desperate attempt to save Tim from himself, Dick tries some tough love. It does not go the way he hopes. Or - Red Robin's 'BruceQuest' through the eyes of Dick Grayson.

We've Taken Different Paths, Traveled Different Roads, by Sohotthateveryonedied (2.3k) - brothers 🥺 even in the middle of their Brucequest fight, Tim can show up out of nowhere for a middle-of-the-night pajama party and heartfelt talk.

Dick is suddenly very awake. He bolts upright, staring at the dimly lit figure. “Tim?” “Hi, Dick,” Tim whispers. He isn’t in uniform for once, instead wearing a pair of sweats and a shirt that Dick recognizes as one of Bruce’s. Dick was wondering where that went. “Jesus, kid,” Dick exhales, an uncertain mixture of disbelief and bafflement. “What are you doing here?” Tim and Dick are still in a fight of sorts, or are they? Have they made up yet, or is the terrain still cracked? Dick wants so badly to ask, but just having Tim in the same room as him is already more than Dick could have hoped he’d get.

a conversation at 4:30am, by xscintillate / @scintillyyy (4.6k) - Dick having a nightmare that Tim is dead and checking all of his regular napping spots with increasing paranoia to prove that he's alive, my beloved. such a great look at the brothers, suffused with all of the love they still share post-Brucequest.

dick & tim, post RR#12 because sometimes having a conversation might end up going nowhere, especially if it's one you're not ready for, but it's enough for now

the best of both of us, by @ashynarr (7k) - a lovely pair of conversations between Tim and Dick, working through their conflict in RR and reconnecting after everything.

They used to have a routine, involving shitty take-out, shitty movies, and a bit of shit-talking. Dick wants to restart it, after everything. Tim's not sure if it's that easy. Or: After Harkness' arrest, Dick and Tim have a heart-to-heart. It helps, a little.

there's an endless road to rediscover, by @zahri-melitor (1.2k) - post-RR fic where Dick and Tim skip right to affectionate violence as a gesture of reconciliation, which is so delightfully in-character, tbh.

Sometimes the only way to show that you've moved on and forgiven each other is to take a flying tackle from the ceiling. Dick and Tim know each other's demonstrations of affection. Damian doesn't.

When it Rains, by vellaphoria (5.8k) - an exploration of Tim and Dick's (most recent) experiences with sexual assault, so warnings for past rape. really excellent.

After Cass and Tim return from Paris, something seems... wrong. Dick tries to find out what it is.

nightwing and red robin hit the town (or do they?) by xscintillate / scintillyyy (7.2k) - hilarious reversal of the "Tim is sad Dick never has time to hang out with him because Eldest Daughter Syndrome" trope.

Dick just wants to hang out with Tim on patrol, like old times. It's a shame that everyone else seems to have the same idea. It's fine. Dick'll get him next time.

POST-FLASHPOINT / MODERN ERA

so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?), by dizarys / @dizaryswrites (1.4k) - beware the ANGST, this one really stomped on my heart 😭 but it's lovely

Dick seized his hands, holding tight. A long moment of silence passed. Tim kept time with Dick’s breathing as it steadily returned to an even pattern. "I'm proud of you for asking for help." His big brother whispered. "But I haven't." "I dunno, TimTam. Breaking into my apartment seems like a cry for help." Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? Whumptober Day 12

go past where our feet could touch, by redboard (Ink) / @upswings (1.5k) - this is such a lovely fic about the brothers having feelings about their long-gone mothers, and Dick seeing himself in Tim and processing things in his own life by being there for him (without sharing his own issues, at least that we see, lol). perfect characterization.

Today Tim was calmer, almost cheerful – as if it was any other Saturday afternoon. But it had also not escaped Dick's notice that Tim had gone on a universe-hopping trip to rescue Bruce, and one of the first things he'd done upon returning was, apparently, unbox a lot of photos of his dead parents. "How was the multiverse?" Dick asked.

WE'RE NOT DEAD (WE WALK)., by orpheusaki / @damianbugs (4.9k) - fantastic whumptober fic. the boys go through it, by god.

Dick is overwhelmed for a moment, filled with clarity and inexplicable confusion as he blinks around him bleary-eyed. There's the familiar itching covering his skin, tiny grains of dark sand invading the cuts that have torn through his suit from the crash. He coughs, throat dry and closing with every gasp of harsh air. The desert is as unforgivable as the last time he was here, an empty expanse of dunes that might just be a trick of the heavy sun against the back of his neck. Dick pushes the panic away behind his eyelids, savoring the darkness before opening his eyes again. Immediately, he sees Tim. Unconscious, hunched over, covered in blood and sand Tim. (Dick and Tim get stranded in the desert, Dick is always moving forward.)

CANON DIVERGENCE

long distance, by unchosenone / bitimdrake (1.7k) - A Red Robin era AU where Bruce is actually dead.

Six months—months—radio silence, and Tim is calling him. Dick doesn’t even know where Tim is. He scrambles for the phone.

Holding the Line, by Birdchild / @birdchildsnest (6.6k) - part 2 of the series and the first part is just as good, but more focused on the Dick&Tim&Damian relationship as a whole. In this, Dick is plagued with nightmares about the people he loves falling, and struggles through the resultant insomnia.

"Dick was used to anxiety dreams, even (or especially) ones about falling and failing to catch people. They weren’t pleasant, but he understood that they were his brain’s way of working through buried fears. The garbage disposal of his subconscious. But these dreams were more like the hyper-vivid nightmares and thrashing night terrors he’d had after his parents’ deaths. And they were constant. Every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t just feel rattled when he woke up; he felt flayed open."   (This will make more sense if you've read "Redrawing the Lines," but it takes place before "Season of Darkness, Season of Light," so you don't need to have read that.)

now the little red lighthouse knew that it was needed, by xscintillate / scintillyyy (22k) - beloved Tim never becomes Robin but shows up in Dick's life and becomes his brother anyway fic of my HEART

"Kid," he says, frustration bleeding through, "I don't know who you think I am, but I can promise you, I don't know anything about any companies. You might want to call the police about this, instead." "No, that's just it," the kid says, "I can't trust the police. I think they're in on it. I think I might get arrested soon. I need—I think I need Nightwing's help." in an alternate universe where jason survives ethiopia--dick and tim still find each other.

this also has a WIP sequel, so the little red lighthouse tried to shine once more, which is equally excellent

well, what would you do if you went back in time?, by xscintillate / scintillyyy (3.5k) - yeah, in retrospect Tim's smug know-it-all tendencies would become exponentially worse if he traveled back in time and actually knew everything, lol. of course he takes the opportunity to be a Pest to both Dick and Bruce c:

tim goes back in time, and prevents certain things--but still makes his appointment at the circus with dick and is kind of a menace (aka: snippets from an au where tim goes back in time and makes it so he doesn't become robin...but he's still just having fun going around and preventing everything he can think of regardless and making sure to bother dick)

the time you won your town the race, by silverwhittlingknife (4.4k) - technically WIP, but absolutely works as a (DEVASTATING) oneshot. It's been well over a year and I still have not recovered tbh.

He doesn’t know exactly what Tim would say. But he knows what Tim would do. Tim dies. Dick doesn’t take death for an answer. A Red Robin 12 AU.

the picture frames have changed and so has your name, by zahri-melitor (24k) - a fix-it it fic for Grant Morrison's 2009 Batman and Robin comic run, which infamously has Dick more-or-less forget that he's supposed to have a close relationship with this alleged "Tim Drake" guy. (Little brother who?)

So, in this fic, Dick literally forgets. Tim notices, and investigates. Also wonderfully highlights Tim's relationships with Helena, Barbara, and the Birds of Prey, and sometimes with Damian.

There’s something wrong with Dick. Tim thought everything was getting back to normal. Bruce was alive and back in their timeline, the Birds of Prey were once again operating out of Gotham, Dick had the city well under control as Batman and even Damian had been less obnoxious than usual. And then during a firefight at a warehouse by the docks, Tim was almost hit by a flying boomerang. And Dick never noticed. When something is wrong with your big brother, who else do you turn to but your big sisters?

Dizzy Edges, by Jojo_Squires / @jojosquires (156k WIP)

A Tim-time-travels-and-interferes-to-make-his-family's-lives-better fic which includes the whole Batfam, but is definitely centered on Dick&Tim and the weird itching dissatisfaction of their missing close relationship from the original timeline - which neither of them can even remember that they're supposed to have.

I leap on my email notifs and stuff new chapters in my mouth as soon as they come out.

Tim Drake didn't quite know what he was agreeing to four years ago, but he tried to make the best of it! Using notes from his past (future?) self, he (somewhat messily) tried to help everyone his other self cared for. Now, it's four years later and he can mostly ignore the second set of memories lying in the back of his brain. It'd be much easier if Dick Grayson would just leave him alone. If Tim believed in destiny he might actually think that the universe cared about what was lost. Dick Grayson has spent the last year feeling like he's veered off course. Something keeps itching at the back of his brain. He's missed some clue. Helena Bertinelli's promised to help him crack down on human trafficking, but Dick thinks her foster kid might actually be more help in that department.

First Priority, by avaya29 / @avayarising (6.8k) - okay so Jason does feature prominently in this one but also he's a hilarious outside observer to Dick&Tim's shenanigans. Also, GLUE TRAP.

As the door opened Tim quickly disabled another three separate electronic sensors in the doorjamb by swiping them with a device that looked a bit like a thumb drive. “Walk where I walk,” he said. He took a big step over the doormat, eyed the floor carefully, then took a careful skipped sidestep to another mat against the right-hand wall, where he removed his shoes. “What the hell?” whispered Jason, still standing in the open doorway. Tim pointed up. There was a net rigged up on the ceiling. “Pressure pads under the carpet.” “I repeat, what the hell? After Tim completely derails Jason's beatdown attempt by asking him for a hug, Jason's first priority is to get this touch-starved kid more cuddles. Tim's first priority is to avoid DIck's traps. Jason learns a lot about his brothers and what happened while he was away, and something about himself too.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Patchwork Siblings, by Raberba_girl (40k) - fluff and whump and we also get both Talon!Dick and regular!Dick being big brothers, which is delightful.

Years ago, young Dick Grayson was taken by the Court of Owls and made into a Talon. When Talon is flung into an alternate universe where Dick Grayson was taken in by Bruce Wayne instead, he latches onto the first familiar person he sees. (Or: Little Bat-stalker Tim Drake is understandably alarmed to find that an undead assassin has imprinted on him.)

5+1 Night's at Freddy's, by cowboymater (6.6k WIP) - okay so this is only the first chapter of an expected six, but it's already a wildly interesting and entertaining scenario with great characterization. my kingdom for 5000 AUs where young Dick and Tim are thrown together into Trials and Tribulations out of nowhere for their brotherly meet-cute.

The 5 nights Tim spent at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza with Robin and the 1 he spent with Batman, OR, this would be the coolest thing that happened to him ever if the animatronics were trying to kill them less, OR, the "Batman meets Freddy Fazbear" fic I found hidden under a loose floorboard in Tim Drake's childhood bedroom.

darling boy, by deitybird (335k) - Fuzzy and funny de-aged!Tim shenanigans, with Dick as his primary caretaker but the whole Batfam getting involved. Author pulls what plot, character, and relationship points they like and want to explore from varied canon (post-Crisis, New 52, Rebirth, Infinite Frontier, Batman the Animated Series, etc.) and fanon to build out that 335k of story, and it's a very fun time. Toddler Tim is such a gremlin ♥

His comm crackles to life. “RR’s suit is in a pile on the floor,” Jason says, voice grim. “But no sign of him. Something bad must’ve happened if he ditched it all.” “I wouldn’t say it’s bad, per se,” Dick replies, gazing down at the kid nestled against his chest. Now that he’s looking properly, he can see hints of his little brother in those small features. “But at least I can confidently say that he’s not dead.” Or: Tim gets de-aged to four. Dick takes care of him.

Under a Parent’s Wing, by IzzyMRDB. (39k) - YMMV on whether this will be your cup of tea, as this is an AU where Dick comes into a parental rather than brotherly role for a younger, AU!Tim, who is also autistic and abused. But it’s also delightful, heartfelt, and a thoughtful exploration of the complicated, difficult situation as given.

Also I would, no lie, read hundreds of fics based on the premise of kid!Tim discovering that THE Dick Grayson (aka THE ORIGINAL ROBIN) is coaching gymnastics classes and using his sneaky determined ways to finagle himself into said classes.

When Tim found out that Dick Grayson was a gymnastics instructor in Bludhaven, he quickly signed up. After all, learning gymnastics from The Nightwing himself is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Dick Grayson is more concerned at the obvious signs of child abuse he sees in one of his students. AKA Dick Grayson, as a childcare worker, is a mandated reporter who knows how to recognize child abuse in his students. Tim Drake, after a lifetime of fear and confusion, learns to trust adults.

[gothic-thoughts]

Getting Through To You

Michael Myers x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Second Meeting, Nurse!Reader, AsylumPatient!Michael

Part 1: Right Here

Part 3: Right Here

CW: trying to get to know Michael, a little angsty at the end

TW: strangling (not you lol), violence mentioned

Word Count: 1442 (give or take)

The next day, the guards guide me to his room again, unlocking it and letting me in. Even though he seemed to like me yesterday, I, of course, was still afraid, tightly holding my clipboard.

“H-hey Michael...”

Michael was sitting on his bed, watching me enter, eyes drifting back to the door as it slowly closed behind me. Hoping he still felt the same about me as he did the other day, I wave at him sheepishly.

“Remember me from yesterday...?”

In silence, he just continues to watch me for a few more seconds before abruptly standing to which I gasp in surprise and quickly jump back. Michael makes his way over and I stand as still as I can, trying to show no fear since our fairly tame interaction yesterday but the weight of his intensity eventually squashes my courage and I end up backing away.

“U-uh...” I wave again, “Hi... I-I don't think I told you my name yesterday.”

He kept following me as I backed up, towering over me with his bulky frame until my back was flush with the wall backing me up against the wall.

“I'm (Y/n).”

He pauses, hair dangling to the side when he cocks his head.

“Y-yeah, (Y/n)...”

He slowly leans down a little closer to my height, but his intensity makes my skin crawl and my breathing halt.

“So how are you feeling today?”

Ugh, no answer. Maybe I’m not getting through to him? I start checking boxes and writing on my paper, the sound of the pen dancing along the clipboard loud in the dark, quiet room. He slowly lifts one of his large hands and with a surprising amount of carefulness, he grabs the top of the clipboard and slowly leans it back to peek. My shoulders relax at the curious gesture.

“Oh, I'm just writing how you feel.” I smile hopefully, “Cuz I gotta ask you some questions, is that... okay?”

The killer nods slightly.

“It’s only a couple. Can you, uh... Can you back up a little bit?”

He lets go of my board and takes a few heavy steps back, finally giving me the space I need to breathe properly.

“Uh... when’s the last time you, uh... had a violent urge...?”

Dead-air. I know he likes me and I know he definitely understands me. Maybe he’s just mute...? 

“Hm, you really don't talk, do you?”

Silence. I roll my eyes. What the fuck. Yet another thing my boss left out, got me asking a mute man questions. Ugh. Hearing his knuckles crack, I look up at him to see his eyes narrowed behind the eyeholes of his mask, the sight making my eyeholes widen in realization. I quickly backtrack as I reach out to touch his fist, a weak attempt at keeping it down.

“No, no! I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you!”

His eyes remain the same as his head tilted again.

“I was just mad that nobody told me you didn’t talk, that’s all. I don’t mind if you don’t talk but I wouldn’t be asking you questions if I knew that you...wouldn’t really answer them. Or rather...”

My boss told me not to come back unless the paper was filled out so I went with the first idea that popped into my head: just ask him yes or no questions. Might take a little bit longer if I get no’s but there’s no talking required. It’s the best chance I got.

“Okay, can we try something else?” I think for a second before tensing at the only question that appeared, “I-I heard about the nurse before... is it true you didn't like her?”

His eyes seem to get darker, his entire unit of a body tensing as his breathing becomes heavier, causing me to pull my hand back from his still-clenched fist. Guess that answers that question.

“Okay, okay... Easy...” My hands go up in surrender, “I... I'm not mad, not judging, just asking, remember?”

The tension in the room halts when his heavy breaths stop, the area now silent as if he were holding his breath. The killer’s shoulders lower slowly and his fists open at his sides, getting a soft sigh of relief out of me.

“Yeah, there you go. That's it.”

His blue, dead eyes behind the mask finally drift away from me as he shuffles over to his wall of homemade papier-mâché masks. He slowly reaches up and touches one of them, petting it lightly and seeming to calm down even further.

“Did you make those?”

He pulls down one of the masks and holds it as he slowly nods his head. 

“They look...nice... You made them for Halloween..?”

Another wordless nod.

“Oh, well they’re really nice. Can I... keep asking questions?”

Another nod.

“Alright... do you like your new nurse...?”

He goes still. His head slowly tilts down to look at the mask in his hand before his eyes suddenly snap back up to me. Oh great. He drops the mask and steps over it to get closer but I jump back with a shriek, hoping the guards heard and took it as a sign of potential danger.

“Guess that's a no... B-but what did I do?” I keep backing away, crossing his room in the other direction, “Is there something you don't like about me...?”

Michael suddenly grabs my arm in his strong grip, making me scream again and flinch, this time the sound getting the guard's attention enough to call out for Michael, but the killer uncaringly lowers his head until our eyes meet. He slowly raises his right hand and uses a couple of fingers to pet my corresponding cheek— with the same amount of care he used with his mask.

“Y-you don't like my face...?”

Michael keeps moving his hands gently, the rough, dangerous fingers tracing my skin delicately like he doesn't want to break it, the gesture somehow calming my heart rate.

“You... like my face...? God, I never seen you so... like this...”

I slowly raised my hand, making sure he was following my movements as touched the back of the hand he was petting me with. Michael doesn’t stop me, instead stilling his hand to allow me to feel his cold skin. He almost felt dead, giving me a chill but I compose myself as I look at his orange mask in more depth, appreciating how much long it must’ve taken to make it, hell how long it must’ve taken to make all of them.

“Aw Michael, you're freezing.”

He doesn't respond to my comment but he huffs behind the mask as his shoulders relax.

“How... how many people have got this close to you.... a-and lived...?”

Michael tilts his head, supposedly thinking for a moment before he realigns his head and lifts his free hand, holding up two fingers before my face. I gasp in shock. This is the most he’s spoken— or well, opened up, I guess. Nodding, I pull my hand from his but without warning, he grabs my wrist in a firm but gentle grip, stopping me, but not hurting me. My heart clenches and beats a little faster as I put my hand back, his breathing once again becoming undetectable.

I look up at his mask, slowly lifting my other hand and touching his shaggy, dreaded hair, my fingers running getting caught in the thick, brown strands that messily clung together. He watches me silently the whole time so I give him a small smile as I become more and more soothed by his presence. The guards suddenly bang on the door as they bust in, startling me out of the moment.

I drop my clipboard and jump away from Michael with a sharp gasp as my body goes back into flight mode. Why are they in here? What did he do? It couldn’t have been from when I screamed earlier, that was like forever ago! We were finally bonding! Or was he about to do something and I didn’t see it?

Before another question could cross my mind, Michael stomps over to the two guards, his tall form immediately dwarfing them as he grabs them both by the throat, crushing their windpipes as they choke and kick for air. I stare in horror, wondering how and why I ever let myself get so close to that monster. They could’ve been me. I contemplated calling out for him but I didn’t wanna be next so as more guards rushed in to try their best to subdue him, I ran out of the room as the sound of crackling electricity and pained screams rang out in the hallway.

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After the incident, I was given a little over a week of vacation to cope and work through any trauma I got from seeing Michael attack for the first time.

Except I didn’t really have any trauma, I was just... scared. Terrified, really. I guess I’m just glad it wasn’t aimed towards me... He seemed like he went out of his way to make sure he attacked the guards.

I mean I was standing right there, and I was touching his hair! He had all the chances to attack, but he didn’t.

Hell he didn’t even push me out the way when he stalked over to the guards, he stepped around me. Maybe it was the noise.

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(a/n): This gonna be a mini saga, part 3 coming out soon 😁😁

[revelboo]

thank you for sharing your writings!! reading ur fics after work has helped w my stress levels so much lol <3333 have a good day!!

I’m glad you enjoy them!

It Had To Be You pt 3

Megatron x Reader

• There’s something oddly fascinating with the slow rise and fall of its chest with its breathing. With the unconscious flex of little fingers. It’s weak. Contemptible, really. Soft, too, as he runs a servo along its spine where it sprawls on its side on the berth he’s sitting on. That light contact sparking through him in that eerie sense of familiarity that makes the servos of his other hand clench on the edge of the birth, metal groaning and warping under his grip. The human sucks in a sharp breath at the sound, head coming up. “So, you live,” he growls, tone carefully indifferent. As if he hasn’t been keeping watch over it and hating himself for it.

• It’s not over. You’re supposed to wake up and this particular nightmare be done with, but no. You have no idea where you are, but your personal red-eyed, metal demon is right there, leaning over you with a look of mild curiosity. And as your heart goes racing, adrenaline jolts through you and your lunging to escape without thought. Right over the edge of what you immediately realize is a very high surface. Your scream cuts off when something smacks into you hard enough it knocks the breath out of you. The monster caught you and as you look up, it’s livid. Furious with your poorly thought out escape attempt.

• Denta bared, he stares at the tiny human in his grip. You’d rather jump from a height sure to break those little bones than be a prisoner? He can understand that, but isn’t about to allow it. Not until he overcomes this awful fascination. “Little fool.” He cages the human between his palms, feeling it struggling to get free and trying to calm the lash of fear that its stupidity struck through him. “Try that again and I’ll break those little bones for you so you can’t try a third time.”

• Breath shuddering out of you at that snarled threat, you curl into a ball. Big and scary thought you’d tried a death before dishonor apparently, not realizing that your flight had been pure, mad terror. You have no interest in finding out how serious that threat is, because you can believe this monster would do it. One of the huge hands caging you shifts and you stare up at that angry face. What does it even want with you? Why take you to begin with? Those huge fingers shift against you, one tapping almost idly against your shoulder as it mutters something unintelligible in its own language. Somehow those soft, little taps are careful. Almost gentle when you’re sure it could bruise just as easily. That at least sinks through the fear paralyzing you. Despite its threats, it hasn’t hurt you, yet. It’s been… surprisingly careful in handling you so far. Like it doesn’t want to hurt you.

• It’s staring up at him through the tangle of its hair now. There’s intelligence in that stare. Calculation, too. Plotting your next pitiful escape attempt? He runs a servo along its tiny arm, then back up and over to tip its chin up. Little hands immediately grab at his servo, trying to push it away. The effort is pitiful, but it still lifts through him in a satisfying rush, because there is some spirit there in that fragile form. Some fight. And he wants that, he realizes. Wants to watch you struggle against him, try to resist him. “More like it,” he laughs, the tip of his servo running up to muss that soft hair as the human tries to squirm away from the attention.

Previous Next

[meanbossart]

You might’ve answered this before, if so my apologizes, but did Astarion approach Drow to ask if he could bite him during act 1, or was it a spur of the moment thing during sex when drow just decided that he wanted to be bitten during act 2? (I remember something about Astarion shot him down during the tiefling party originally, so I assume it was during act 2 they started getting intimate?)

Oh Astarion tried to bite him almost immediately after they started having sex, which was at the end of Act 1 while they were somewhere in the underdark, or the forge (I remember that because I recall having a laugh about how they supposedly had to go all the way back up to the surface to bang, since the animation just showed a normal forest LOL)

It seems that by now, they have patched the game so that if Astarion tells you about his vampirism during normal dialogue you will no longer get the bite scene to trigger, but back then that wasn't the case. He first told me he was a vampire and then tried to bite me at a later long-rest. The way I choose to interpret that, is that DU drow would have taken it a lot more amicably than the game implies through cutscene since 1) he was already aware of Astarion's condition and 2) He had already made the decision to humor Astarion's advances, which kind of encompasses this whole situation.

I got to thinking about how that scene went and ended up writing a short thing for it 🤷enjoy!

-

You jolt from a light sleep like you’ve fallen down from an immeasurable height, feeling the thumping of your heart in the drums of your ears first thing before the distant, wailing choirs that resonate through the Underdark drown out the beating. You can’t immediately recall your dreams, going from complete silence and blackness back to this. You hear the scraping of rocks miles away with the same clarity with which you hear the wet slap of lips closing, Astarion looms over you like a hunched gargoyle, close enough that you can make out every dry pore and blue vessel scrawling away from his under eyes with the utmost clarity - he looks specially sickly, with the icy glow of the fauna around you reflecting off his pale complexion.

“What are you doing?” And as soon as you ask, he pulls away like a house-pet on the other end of reprimand.

He falters for a moment and no longer, there’s a glimmer of fear crossing his rounding eyes - before they relax back into sultry slits. The expression is not befitting of his posture, spine curves like a creature in the prowl. “Just looking for some comfort.” He reassures you. “I had a terribly scary dream.”

You saw the flash of his canines before his jaw clamped shut. He’s lying, and he knows that you know. “Were you about to bite me?”

You are curious more than you are chiding. Your heart rate has dropped, you feel it quieting down underneath your palms as they rest over your chest - still lying flat on your bedroll, looking up at the waxy elf with your neck crooked to one side. You see no reason to stand.

There’s a hesitance before he crawls a little closer, fingers brushing through the moss as his voice drops to an alluring whisper, the control he has over his voice is absent in the rest of his presentation. “Would you like that?”

A laughable assumption to make of most, but he had seen sides of you that have made him wonder. Even if he’s mistaken, it’s worth trying to convince you that it was your idea all along.

You had toyed with the thought, but you like toying with him more. “Why would I?”

Astarion scoffs over his shoulder, coming to cozy up by your hip with a practiced posture much more dignified than his awkward lurch - the cold leather of his trousers press into your naked side, his hand hovers over you and plants itself down by your ear - head hanging uncomfortably close. He can’t see into mirrors, he doesn’t know how bad he looks. “Because you can’t get enough of me.” half assertion, half plead. “This might be the closest we get to a little salacious fun, given our circumstances.”

“Is that all?”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m also hungry.” He playfully dabs a fingertip to your chin. “But I’m hungry for you, in particular.”

“Sick of taste of pig’s blood?”

“To death.” hisses, his smile tenses  into a snarl “I’ve seen you fight. You leak like you’re never going to run out.”

“If I let you, iIs that going to wipe that demented look off your face?”

He harps out a laugh, a little too loud - you hear one of your companions take in a sharp inhale before settling. Both your glances stray off to your sides before locking onto one another again, Astarion’s pupils swallowing the reds of his irises.. “Yes.”

“What a shame.”

A forced grin, more like a grimace. He’s almost too weak to keep up his own ruse. “Just say no and I’ll be off.” He’s telling you to stop wasting his time. You pull yourself up onto your elbows and he retracts away an appropriate amount, though hands remain nailed to the sides of you, imprisoning you between his arms.

He could jump your throat so easily from there, clamp down and refuse to let go until you’re splashing around red puddles like a dying fish in an oil spill. You fantasise about jamming your thumbs into his eyes and trying to pry him off by the sockets of the skull, feeling a fawn as it kicks and flails helplessly at the ribs of a cougar. How would you sound, whimpering with a crushed windpipe?

The thought arouses you, but it's different from that rising singe in your pelvis whenever burying a blade into the livers of screaming men - it’s a comforting warmth in your stomach that makes you loose, makes you malleable. He reads your silence as reluctance, not just the wanderings of a mad-man. He grows desperate.

“All I need is a little blood.”

You immediately feel him recoil.

“Please.”

A high contrast to your reveries, you realise that you don’t like him like this: begging. “Take it, then.”

He stiffens. Waiting for you to quality, recant, regret. But all you do is stare on unblinking while a chill travels up your back. His face tightens and a hand reaches up to bury itself in the limp locks of your hair, shoulders leaning forward before his face latches itself onto your neck with a crunch and a snap. You slam back down onto the floor as Astarion wraps around you like a snake.

-

[lesinquietes]

But can you imagine being on discussion boards talking shit about the League of Villains after the whole Overhaul situation like “lol still got fucked by all might at kamino tho” and that being the ONE comment Shigaraki reads that sets him over the edge???

Inspired fic

⚠️ mdni. death (minor), degradation, kidnapping, mind break, noncon, oral, stalking, yandere.

Like, my man just fucking loses it, totally seething at the notion that there are still people out there who don’t take him seriously. So he doxes you and finds out where you live. If you don’t reside by yourself, god help your partner, roommate(s), or family members. Your pets, too. They’re all dust. He waits for you to get home like a parent catching their kid in the act of sneaking out.

And of course, you never thought your shitposting would result in this — the leader of the League of Villains showing up and committing personal crimes against you. You’re flabbergasted when you return to your residence and find him there, amidst the carnage he’s left. It destroys your mind. You’ll never be the same again. You’re wracking your memories, trying to recall if you ever had an encounter with Shigaraki. It’s only when he cackles hoarsely and grins beneath that big, ugly hand that you make the connection.

“Still don’t think I’m the real deal, sweetheart?”

He takes a daunting step towards you. You’re paralyzed with fear. He wants to teach you a lesson. He thinks he’ll remove a finger; maybe a limb. He’ll keep you alive so you can remember what he did to you.

But as he gets closer to you… he realizes you’re actually pretty cute. No, that’s not the right word; you’re fucking hot. You look like one of his favourite porn stars. It’s your face, it’s your body — he didn’t think you’d be this attractive in person. In fact, perhaps he’s been approaching this the wrong way.

You finch when he grasps your chin. He purposefully keeps one pinky dangling not too far from your cheek. If he wants to, he can kill you. The way your lower lip trembles oh so adorably tells him that you know how vulnerable you are. You have no clue he’s decided there’s a higher purpose for you. His crimson eyes narrow with cruel glee.

“I wonder how the world would feel if I took an innocent civilian as a pet?”

It’s the perfect plan. He has a pretty face to come home to. He has a warm hole to fuck whenever he wants. He corrupts you for society to see. You’ll be humiliated to the point of losing yourself, descending into madness as a martyr for all who doubted him. Yes, he thinks keeping you is a way better idea than dusting you.

The heights he goes to ensure you know your place are higher than you ever thought they’d be. He forces you to worship him. He makes you kiss and suck on his fingers — the very things that could end your life in a breath. On various occasions, he coaxes you into sucking him off on camera, so he can make a montage for when he reveals your broken mind to the world. It’s sick; he doesn’t debate that. He wants to put you through the worst. Not only does he get off on degrading pretty sluts like you, but he can wear you down this way.

Braindead and willing is how he wants you.

Braindead and willing is how he’ll have you.

[surielstea]

Sunshine in the Shade

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x DayCourt! Reader

Summary: Reader can't stay in the night court for long when she's bound to day. Azriel and her have to share a goodbye.

Warnings: minimal angst but mostly fluff

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out, I was struggling figuring out the concept of the original req, I'm still not very happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy nonetheless :) p.s I had to repost cuz my tags weren’t working, sorry if you were notified twice lol.

2.9k words

"That's a lie!" I throw a piece of popcorn at a giggling Morrigan. "Nuh-uh," She shakes her head with a big grin. "I'm The Morrigan I only speak the truth," She shrugs and I roll my eyes, clutching my bowl of popcorn to my chest as she claims 'I'm the prettiest girl she's ever seen'.

"Shut up," I scoff as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me close. "I mean it," She croons. "Azriel's a lucky male, don't you think Fey?" Her arms slip from around me as she turns to look at the High Lady. "She gets it from her Father," Feyre intoned with a mouthful of chocolate cake and I rolled my eyes at the mention of the High Lord of the Day Court.

It was late in the afternoon, so late that it'd be night soon. I shake my head, trying not to think about when the moon meets the stars. I stifle a sigh and lean on the railing of the roof atop one of Rhysand's many estates, staring out at the three males who were flying around each other like boys again.

When I was seven, my father was an apprentice for spell cleaving. He had been practicing warding spells when I had come into the room with a bright grin on my face excited to show him my new drawing. In a moment of distraction, his spell had shot straight into my heart, the effects irreversible. We hadn't found out the full extent of the spell until we had been traveling to different courts for meetings and as soon as the sun slipped from the sky and night began to rule, my heart stopped beating and I was hospitalized for weeks.

So I was only allowed to leave during the day, as long as I came back right before sunrise. A rule that made it impossibly challenging to see my mate, who happened to be darkness incarnate.

I take a sip of my wine as I watch Azriel soar with his brothers, a rare smile on his face that makes adoration bloom in my chest. "That boy loves you," Amren hums from beside me and I roll my eyes, tearing them away from my mate to look over at her. "No shit," I scoff and a snarky smile curves her lips. "No, he loves you," She murmurs, eyes on the three boys as they laugh amongst each other. "I've never seen him so happy in all the years I've been around him, don't ruin that," She looks at me and it's as if she can see straight through me to my bare soul, past the flesh and bone and to my inner core that held the truest version of me. "What do you—" I begin but I'm cut off by a gust of wind as a figure lands on the railing that I leaned on. "Fly with me," A familiar voice says as Azriel bends down and cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. "You won't pretend to drop me like last time?" I narrow my eyes on him, forgetting about Amrens words now that he was here, cradling my face. "Nope," He bites at his bottom lip like he always does when he lies to me. "I know you're lying," I sing and he grumbles a curse, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Ok, promise I won't." He smushes my cheeks together. I can't help but put every ounce of my trust in him and believe what he says. I nod and he doesn't need any further consent than that.

He swoops me up into his arms and with a few beats of his wings, we were soaring up into the blue sky. I tighten my hold around him with a small squeal. I had a horrible fear of heights, it was foolish to be terrified of a few hundred feet in the air when literal monsters were walking amongst Prythian but it's something that's always affected me. With Azriel, though it was different, he loved flying so much, and that smile on his face beat any fear I had.

"I won't drop you," He promised. "I know, but," I look down, dread filling my stomach at the long drop. We were higher than mountain peaks. He pulls me closer to him. "Hey, look at me," He said and I obeyed, eyes pinned to his. "Don't look down, keep your eyes on me," He hummed and I nodded. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" He tilts his head I swallow thickly, still thinking about the ground that was so very far away.

"Hey, look at me," He repeats with more stress on his words and so I do, I look into his eyes, at the smile on his lips, the dimples on his cheeks. I feel the summer breeze on my skin and hear the laughter of my friends still on the rooftop. "I love you," I confess, hands loosening around his neck and running them through his hair. He smiled, beaming at the words. "I love you more," He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I grin, then giggle as he dips down onto my neck, his nose tickling it. Cassian soars by with a large smile on his face. "No kissing and flying!" The Illyrian shouted over his wingbeats and Azriel's lips halted on my neck while I threw my head back in laughter, remembering the last time Azriel got too lost in kissing me and stopped flying momentarily, putting all of his attention to my lips instead. We dove for only a second before he regained consciousness. But ever since then, Azriel wasn't allowed to put his lips anywhere near mine while flying.

My head lifted back up and I looked at him with a loving smile, fingers coiled in his hair as he stared at me like I hung every star in the sky.

My breath hitched as the sun began to melt into the horizon. My smile faltered and morphed into a frown. "You've gotta go?" He asks and I nod with a pout, looking at him with saddened eyes. "The daughter of the sun can't stay in the night court for long," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple as he navigates us back to the rooftop, leaving Rhys and Cass.

"I'm sorry Az, I want to stay," I say. "I know, it's okay my love," He places my feet down onto solid land and even if I am afraid of heights, I'd much rather be up in the air instead of down here, signaling my exit.

"It's only for the night," He shrugs, settling down onto the railing of the rooftop though despite his reassuring words, something in his gaze told me he wouldn't be sleeping until he saw me again. "Oh, Az," I crash into him with enough force to knock us both over the railing but he doesn't falter, only embraces me back as I hug him tightly. "Why don't you come with me?" I ask and he tilts his head down at me with a frown. "You know your father will kill me," He shakes his head. "I don't care, I'm nearly four hundred years old, I can do what I want," I say. "And I want you," I cup his cheeks, analyzing his features as if I'll forget them. "Except you can't," He murmurs with a sad smile on his face, his thumb pulling slightly at my lower lip.

My shoulders slump and I wrap my arms around him yet again, nuzzling my nose into his shoulder. "Fly me back?" I asked softly into his neck. My fear of flying was outmatched by another moment with him.

"I was planning on it," He pressed kisses atop the crown of my head but neither of us backed up, just staying in that warm, comforting position until the sun got too low in the sky and I knew it was time to go.

"Bye, guys! See you in a month!" I wave to the others with a fake grin across my features. They all bid their farewells with pitying smiles on their faces. "I'll miss you," Mor tangles her arms around me, tearing me from a disgruntled Azriel. "Not as much as I'll miss you," I sing, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Well now I’m sun-kissed," She holds a hand to where my lips were and I giggle, pulling away and going back into Azriel's arms who was grumbling something about the joke being dumb, but I knew he was just jealous.

"Alright, alright, let's go," Azriel swoops me off my feet and carried me bridal style before Mor could get another word in— then took off to the skies, the cool wind nipping at my cheeks as we rose above the mountain peeks and begin navigating south, in the direction my mate's flown me countless times. "Bye Rhys!" I wave to the High Lord as we pass him. "Awe is it that time already!" Cassian whined, soaring to his brother's side with an apparent frown on his face. "I'll be back don't worry," I grin over at him. "I have no doubt you will," He sighs then turns back without another word and joins a waving Rhys.

About twenty minutes of flying later I knew the sun was too low in the sky to be excusable any longer.

"Az I gotta winnow," I say tiredly, hand cradling the side of his neck. "You have to be tired, plus you still have to fly back," I explain and he shakes his head. "I could fly you around for days." He reassured and I frowned up at him. "You know I have to leave," I huff. "I know," He nods. I lean upward and press a gentle, yearning kiss to his lips.

"No kissing and flying, remember?" He mumbles onto my lips. I smile at the recollection, pressing my mouth harder to his. "I'll see you soon, okay?" I whisper and he nods with creased brows and an aching heart.

His scarred fingers dig into my thigh, searing his touch into me in case I ever forgot it. "Don't miss me too much, yeah?" I ask and he smiles weakly before uttering, "I'll try."

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sigh. "I'll be there to pick you up," He reassured and my grin faltered, then as a silent goodbye, I pressed my lips to his, holding his face with enough delicacy you'd think he was made of glass. His lips press harder onto mine. It wasn't lustful or hungry, but it was passionate and full of pining. "Love you, Az," I whisper into his mouth, and before he can reply I winnow away, leaving his arms empty with only the weight of my absence, the bond between us wearing thin as I return back to my native court, a place that no longer felt like home when every element I had of a real home was in Night.

I had winnowed right into the dining room of the Day Palace, my plate already on my spot at the table. "You're late," My father grumbled, I tossed him a glance. He sat at the head of the table, a girl half-dressed in his lap. "Gods, seriously Dad?" I shield my eyes as I grab my plate, deciding not to eat in front of something that would easily make me lose my appetite. "In my defense, I didn't think you were coming home," He shrugs sassily and I roll my eyes at his behavior. "Yeah whatever, goodnight," I mutter, getting to the large doors leading to the hall. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks before I can slip out. "Probably not, Az is coming to get me in the morning," I mutter and he utters a curse. "I never see you anymore," He whines childishly, making a small smile spread across my lips. "I'm sorry but my days are promised to him," I open the door wider. "Unless you're willing to let him join us for dinner sometime?" I offer and he scoffs. "I'm not feeding someone who stole my baby girl," He grumbled. "That's what I thought," I nod. "Night, Dad!" I call before slipping out the door, closing it behind me with a soft click.

I travel down the halls of the palace made of sunstone and opalescent glass, taking bites of my food occasionally but I wasn't all that hungry since I ate with Rhysand's inner circle less than an hour ago. I breathe a deep sigh as I finally arrive at my room, entering then kicking the door shut as I make my way over to my desk, setting my plate and fork down before going over to my armoire and pulling myself out of the lightweight dress I wore, slipping into a nightgown instead as I prepared myself for bed, light still in the sky.

My sleep schedule had been all sorts of messed up, I had the sleeping habits of a five-year-old. Waking up at dawn and going to bed at dusk. It was unfair of me to have Azriel spend every waking hour with me during the day but it was the only time I got to see him, I couldn't spend nights with him, and couldn't sleep in the same bed.

I huff as I slide onto my mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin as my black-out curtains do the best they can to block out any remaining sunlight.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and attempted sleep for at least an hour before I was finally able to drift off into a light slumber, knowing the sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I'd see my mate again.

——

I wake up to a light sound of thudding outside my window, then a drumming on the glass like someone was tapping against it. But I was on the highest point in the palace, the most protected and secured part of the entire court.

I sit up slightly panicked, but the tapping stops and I suppose it's my imagination, running my hands through my hair and blaming it on being overtired. But as soon as my head hits my pillow once more the sound returns. I spring up and crawl over to my bedside window, pulling up the blackout curtains with a confused expression.

My brows shoot to my hairline as I spot a familiar winged figure on the other side of the glass. I immediately open the window, pushing it to its highest point. "What are you doing here?" I question. "I missed you," Azriel shrugs and I facepalm. "Now scoot over, my wings won't fit with you right there," He gestures to me towards the end of the bed. "Are you insane? You're not coming in," I whisper shout and he frowns. "Why not?" He murmurs sadly. "My dad will kill you if he sees you," I grit out and he shrugs. Gods, I felt like a teenager sneaking my boyfriend in.

"C'mon sunshine," He sighs, his wings slowly flapping as to keep quiet. "We'll be gone by dawn," He reasons and I stifle a curse before moving out of the way and allowing room for him to enter. Shadows protect his wings as he pushes himself through the large window that he made look small.

As soon as he through I tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses along the side of his face. He chuckles, hand coming to the back of my neck. "Thought you didn't want me in here?" He taunts and I move away, looking down at him with a wide grin. "That was before," I shake my head, leaning down and wrapping my arms around his neck, lying atop him as if I couldn't get close enough to him. "Before what?" He scoffs. "Before you were in my bed," I reason. "But now you are and I don't ever want you leaving," I say into his shoulder and he grins brightly. "Have you slept?" I ask, twining my fingers into his hair. I feel him shake his head no and I internally sigh at his insomniac habits. "Alright, c'mon," I pull him up by the collar of his shirt, towards the pillows of my bed. He follows with a content smile, flopping down onto my mattress as I slip in beside him, pulling the blankets over us as I cuddle into his side, head on his chest, arm slung over his torso while he tucks me in close between him and his wing.

"How'd you get past the guards?" I perk up, looking at him puzzled. "I'm the spymaster, aren't I?" He smiles tiredly and I return it. "Not even the pegasuses noticed?" I say with a frown. "How are you so awake?" He asks, his hand coming to my cheek and I shrug. "I'm happy you're here," I explain and his grin widens, his scarred thumb pulling at my lower lip. "Go to sleep, I'll still be here in the morning," He reassured and I believed him.

I hadn't realized just how much I wanted this until I had it. His arms around me, shadows settling over us. We've cuddled before, on couches or daybeds, but nothing like this, not with the intention of sleeping. There was something so intimate about it, how he trusted me enough to fully fall out of consciousness with his arms wrapped around me.

I smile, a warm fuzzy feeling blooming in my chest. I lean up and peck beneath his jaw. "Goodnight, Az," I murmur. "Night sunshine," He softly replies and that was all I needed to hear before I faded into that familiar embrace of sleep.

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[whereireid]

𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending

PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.

summary: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.

-

It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.

Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.

“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”

You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.

“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."

Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.

The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.

Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.

Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.

“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.

“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”

“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”

You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."

You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.

Holding something he made.

He stills. “Excuse me?”

The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“

The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.

It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.

You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?

“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”

His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."

Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”

“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”

Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”

You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.

Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.

The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.

“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”

“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.

It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.

Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.

“That’s what I heard, baby.”

You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.

Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”

Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”

It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.

The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.

“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!

“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”

As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.

“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.

"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”

Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.

"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”

Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.

And then you begin to come undone atop of him.

He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.

Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.

But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.

“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”

As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.

He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.

—

What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.

You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.

It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.

It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?

Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.

“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.

You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.

“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”

It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”

“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.

It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.

“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”

Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.

A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.

"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.

"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."

Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."

You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.

"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”

"Steve-"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"

“Steve-“

“Do I make myself clear?”

You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.

He’ll be the bigger person today.

“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”

“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.

“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”

It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.

"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.

You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.

It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.

"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.

When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for Identity V? Specifically for Norton? I love the way you write for him!

Okay so, it’s safe to say that since Norton and Fools Gold are basically the same person, they feel the same way about things, including people. What if the reader (female or gender neutral) discovers Norton’s feelings toward them after having a match against Fools Gold and confronts him about it? Like rather than chair the reader, FG acts possessive toward them and teases them? Confrontation with Norton could end in fluff or NSFW, up to you!

Thank you!

Fool's Gold be normal challenge part 2 lol but im mad i lost my idea midway (curse u adhd!)

Rated Mature | Warning: relationship -in psychologist voice-

With how long you have been running your chest is starting to hurt, which does not help the limited places to run are getting smaller and smaller. Luckily, the map is Chinatown and there are plenty of places to hide. Not so lucky, as the hunter is well aware of those places. Not a rare map to be placed in but frequent as the Arms Factory or Sacred Heart Hospital. 

With a dash upstairs and your legs give out, your chest burns but your heart does not stop racing as the hunter is still nearby.

You have been tunnel-hunted before by hunters, never for a reason-- Sometimes. However, you have never felt like a mouse in a game of cat and mouse, there is a teasing nature and you hate it. Fool’s Gold can be mean but he is no Ithaqua or Ripper, still for him to get seemingly off on you running away— His laugh loud— Worries you. The costume he has on does not help as he looks like a demon from the seven hells ready to claim your soul!

“Sparky, where are you~!” In a sing-song voice as he comes up the stairs. You go still, your dark costume is to your advantage as you hide behind a mannequin. The heavy footsteps have you holding your breath as you emerge from the stairway. His eyes looked around, his intimidating height towering above everything. He turns in your direction, golden stylized pickaxe but then lowers it as he hears a cipher pop.

“I will be back for you later.”

You have experienced fear but the rush of it never gets easier.

The hunter throws his weapon before using the magnetism to pull himself out of the opening in the store. You dash immediately out the other way refusing to just pray he forgets you.

He does not, he waits for you to be rebirthed by Embalmer's casket. You stumble out still hurt but alive, Fool's Gold leaning against a wall cleaning the caked-on blood on his hand, his pickaxe nowhere in sight.

“Sparky.”

“Only Norton calls me that.” Getting ready to book it.

“I am Norton.” Stepping forward, “Better than that brat.” You step to the side.

“No, you are some fucked ‘what if’.”

Fool's Gold stands at his full height, his one eye glowing almost brighter in this dark area, “Careful, sparky, I can let you escape through the dungeon if you behave.”

“I will hit you.” That makes him laugh, “I have one fuse left, we can go together.” Because you are not above being crazy.

“That I do not doubt,” Closer but you stand firm, “But you used all your tools. Too bad it didn't help that prison rat.” When you actually attempt to hit him, he is careful not to use his solid hand. His deformed hand holds you in place, the magnetism holding it together is used to keep you on the table as you try thrashing about. “You could've left him alone!”

“Yeah? Maybe you should've let me have you.” Standing over you, “Kiting me only pissed me off.” It is true the time he had you in his sights you made your business to be annoying. He scares you! Like right now. Being pinned down on a table with him between your legs. His solid hand traces your face.

“He didn't mark you.” Spoken when he yanks down your top to expose your neck and part of your chest. The marks on your skin are always from Norton, friends with benefits arrangement.

“What, you plan on doing it for him?” Playing fearless but you are fearful, this is the darker part of Norton. The demon everyone tries to hide made manifest, Norton hates it— Hates him.

“Why else do you think I have you here and not bleeding you out.” As if he would waste his time bleeding out anyone, maybe himself but that work he does not feel like bothering with. “Are you going to fight me?”

You weigh your options, “Mess around and find out, sport.”

His grin is wide, His teeth look sharp, and your inner masochist is excited.

He let you go via the dungeon, your legs hurt and you know your chest and neck must look like a mess. Easy to hide until you find Norton in your room waiting. He hates it when you have matches with his counterpart, especially the tunnel-hunting you most of the time.

“(Name).” Standing up the moment you entered, he put down the charm you made him on the bed where he was sitting.

“We should talk.”

Talking usually with Norton means he has to sit and listen and consider things, you only inform him so he has time to process and return to you. However, given the things Fool's Gold— Other Norton—was open about. Details are murky as he is not exactly like Norton, but the raw feelings are there, all laid bare because he refuses to standby and let his other self be an idiot.

The conversation is long, but no tears, and a few awkward silences but it ends with an understanding. Sex does not happen, Norton learning the ability to be grateful does not mean sex. Plus, the prospector is conflicted about how his other self thinks he has the right to touch you.

“I mean he is you?”

“I don't care! You're mine.”

“Oh, can you say that again for me, sport?”

[sipsteainanxiety]

rotten to the core || bkg k.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 4k

mentions: no pronouns i blv, pro hero bkg, aged-up chars (24+), meet cute(?), slight fear of heights, bkg being a dick but what else is new, ur kinda used as a scapegoat for him, part of the meet fruit collab hosted by @willowser !! check out the other fics posted!! & ty to my friends who helped me brainstorm a title LOL (kissa u will!)

🍎 in which you get stuck in an apple tree... and have to get help from a certain pro-hero to get down 🍎

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have taken your walk today. 

It was just—perfect weather, though. The first wink of sunshine that’d blessed the earth after a week of non stop rain. The air was cool and crisp with the gentle grip of Autumn, vibrant leaves colored in all shades of tangerine, burnt red, and daffodil yellow lining the trees and roads. You had to get out and stretch your legs after wallowing miserably at your window, confined to your little apartment for what felt like forever. 

Your skin basked happily in the soft caress of the sun as you walked down a bricked path through one of the parks in your neighborhood. It was a delight to venture through since it was nice and tranquil—able to leave you to your thoughts as you watched the way light filtered happily through the canopies above you. Occasionally you’d see another pedestrian walking in the distance, but they hardly ever bothered you. 

A sigh left your lips as you stretched your arm out and glanced at the watch on your wrist. You never brought your phone with you when you went on these little outings. You didn’t really need it, after all, and all the notifications you’d get would only serve as a distraction when you were supposed to be clearing your mind and enjoying the bumbling outside environment for once in your technology-infused life. 

It was just after three in the afternoon. Nice. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket and continued on. Maybe you could stop by one of the café’s on your block for a warm drink later. A motivating thought. 

As the path took you past a small, open field, you noticed a group of children loitering around one of the trees lining its perimeter. They were loud as they chattered and argued with each other, pointing up at the tree’s branches and making attempts to climb it to no avail. You’d fully intended to walk by, sparing them not much more than a curious glance, but one of the kids had spotted you and started loudly shouting and waving his arms. 

“Hey! You!” he called across the field, and you paused for a moment and looked around before pointing at yourself in confusion. Was he talking to you? “Yeah! C’mere!” Apparently he was. 

You slowly made your way over, wondering what the kid could possibly want with you. His friends all turned to look at you curiously as you approached. A few lingered at the base of the tree they’d been attempting to climb. Suddenly, you had a little audience and you weren’t quite sure what to do. 

“...Yes?” you eventually asked to break the silence. “What’s up?” 

“You’re tall,” the kid pointed out bluntly. You blinked down at him owlishly. To him maybe you were, but you weren’t going to say anything. “Can you get those apples for us?” He pointed up at the tree—your gaze following—and you realized they’d been attempting to pick the small, honey-crisp fruit that was way out of the reach of their tiny limbs. 

There was only one problem. “I can’t reach those either. They’re too high up,” you told him with a frown.  

He made a face at you, but before he could say anything, one of his friends piped up. “You can climb, can’t you? Please! We’re trying to fill this basket.” A weaved basket was held out in their arms, a few apples already rolling around in it. They all looked up at you in anticipation—nearly half a dozen little faces with hope glistening in their eyes. 

You hesitated. This was not what you had expected to be doing on your little walk.  “I dunno—” 

“Please! Pretty please!” You were almost immediately interrupted as they all started begging you at once, a chorus echoing in your eyes. A few small hands reached out to tug at the bottom of your jacket. You were frozen, the weight of their tiny expectations weighing heavily on your shoulders. “Please! With a cherry on top?” 

“Okay! Okay,” you acquiesced as you side-stepped towards the tree, your hands raised up as though in surrender. They were persistent, and you doubted they’d give up even if you’d said no. They all immediately started cheering as you trudged your way over to the apple tree, a grumble under your breath. This was fine. You would get them their apples and then continue on your path. Maybe you’ll get a drink and a pastry at that café later, you thought to yourself. 

You stopped at the base of the tree and eyed the trunk for a second. A quick glance behind you showed that the kids had followed you, surrounding your figure in a half circle as they eagerly waited. You didn’t know why they thought you would be able to climb the tree to get the fruit when they’d obviously been failing at it before, but you supposed that was them placing you—an adult—on a more capable pedestal than them—little kids. You sighed again and started the arduous task of climbing your way up to the first thick branch you could see. 

The tree’s bark was rough under the soft skin of your palms. Your feet braced themselves against the trunk as you used the strength of your legs to push yourself up. Your hands gripped onto the branch and you pulled yourself on top of it carefully, ensuring that it could hold your weight. It could. This branch—and the ones surrounding it—was bare of any apples, unfortunately, so you’d have to go higher. You huffed slightly as you stood on the branch—knees bent to help with your balance—and climbed your way to the next sturdy branch using the smaller ones around you.

It took you longer than you’d like to admit, but eventually you plopped yourself down on a higher branch and wiped the sweat from your forehead. You could hear the kids yelling encouragingly at you from below, telling you to Go higher! The good apples are higher! You rolled your eyes and looked around. They could make do with what you could get now.

It was kind of nice sitting in a tree. The leaves around you were mostly green, though you could see many of them starting to dip into a yellow color with the Autumn weather. There were a few ripe apples on a branch to your right that you could easily reach without having to move too much. You picked them easily and looked down so you could find the kid holding the weaved basket. 

“Catch!” you called as you dropped the apples one by one. There was a flurry of motion from all the kids as they scrambled to move the basket up to catch the fruit before it could hit the ground. They sounded delighted and a small smile lingered on your lips as you watched them. 

“More! More!” they chanted once you’d tossed down all the apples you could reach around you. Guess you really did need to go higher, then. Unfortunate. 

Up and up and up you went, adhering to the whims of the children who watched you safely from the grassy ground. You picked more apples and dropped them carefully to the earth. Until finally, finally, their basket was full to the brim. 

“Thanks stranger!” the original kid who’d caught your attention called up, his friends already rushing away as they giggled and laughed. He waved up at you, a bright smile on his face, and you thought to yourself that maybe helping them out had been worth it. “You’re the best!” And with that he ran off, hollering at his friends to wait for him. 

You watched him go, then sighed wearily. At least you’d gotten some sort of workout in. Already your arms were starting to ache from hoisting yourself up the tree. You stretched them out, then moved so you could start to lower yourself to the hand holder branch below you. 

The moment your foot placed weight on it, however, it let out a sharp snap! 

Something in your gut dropped. You yelped and scrambled back on top of the branch you’d been sitting on, your foot having met nothing but air. Your heart pounded a steady beat in your ears as you sat solidly on the branch and looked down. The branch had broken and the next one for you to put your weight on was too far away. Shit. You swallowed heavily and found yourself looking at the ground. It seemed… awfully far away. And now that you were staring—realizing just how high up in the tree you were—you noticed there was this odd feeling in your stomach that only got stronger the longer you looked. Your jaw tensed and you forced yourself to bring your gaze to the tree trunk in front of you as you slowly moved to straddle the branch. A better position in case you… fell. 

You took a moment to just calm yourself down. Damn it. Were you really stuck in a fucking apple tree? You chanced another look down and felt a bit lightheaded once more at the height. You guessed you were. You never should’ve taken that goddamn walk. You breathed in deeply, then exhaled it all in a loud sigh. No, no way you were going to be stuck here for who-knows-how-long. You needed to get it together and just climb down. Like a normal person. 

You peeked around you, looking for any other branches you could use to climb down. But there were none—none that were within reach, that is, or that could hold your weight long enough for you to get to the next sturdy branch. Fuck, had that one branch really been the only one? Just your luck. Climbing up a tree was one thing, but climbing down? It was terrifying. 

Maybe you could call someone for help? But no, you realized with a curse, that wouldn’t work. You didn’t have your fucking phone. You slapped a hand against your face in agony and mentally shook your fist at your past self. Well, you never would’ve expected something like this to happen, so maybe you should cut past-you some slack. Still, you think this is a sign to start bringing your phone with you on your walks, technology-cleansing be damned. 

You slumped forward and resigned yourself to being stuck until you could call out to a passerby for help. There was bound to be someone walking the paths through the park—even though it was a rather… lonely place. It was only the afternoon, though. You could wait. 

…

You were going to die up here.

Forget the café, you grumbled to yourself as you wearily held your head in your hands. An hour had gone by with no one in sight and you were slowly losing hope with each minute that ticked by. You were going to need a strong ass drink after this. 

You sighed and reached above you to pick one of the honey-crisp apples innocently hanging from a branch. At least you wouldn’t go hungry while waiting. You glared down at the apple, its skin gleaming slightly with the golden sunlight that winked at you from the West. This is all your fault, you thought unhappily. You huffed and bit into the apple, the juicy sweetness of its flesh flooding your mouth and dribbling down your chin. You hoped those kids were enjoying their basket of apples. 

Actually, it tasted rather good. Crisp and honeyed—fitting for its name. You reached up to grab another apple and stuffed it into the pocket of your jacket. Might as well take one home. At least you’d gain something out of this venture. 

A movement caught your eye. You looked up from the apple in your hand and immediately spotted someone making their way down the path you’d been on not so long ago. It was a kid, from what you could see, holding a ball in her hand that she bounced occasionally. Your heart seemed to soar in hope. You swallowed the bite of the apple down so quickly that you nearly choked and raspily called out to her as loudly as you could. “Hey! Kid with the ball!” Your voice almost seemed to echo across the little field. 

She paused and looked around curiously. You tried again. “Over here! By the trees!”

Once she’d turned in your general direction, you waved your hands and—after realizing she wasn’t looking up—shook the nearest branch to you so that the leaves would flutter around with a rustle. It worked. She slowly approached, clutching onto her ball, until she was standing at the base of the apple tree and looking right up at you. “...Whatcha doin’ up there, stranger?” 

“I got stuck,” you confessed to her, the hand not holding onto your half-eaten apple gripping tightly onto the branch you were sitting on. You dared to feel just the brief twinges of relief. “Listen to me. Can you go get help? Any help, really. The fire department, a hero, a construction man with a ladder. I can’t get down and I’ve been up here for hours.” 

The kid cocked her head at you and blinked, her weight shifting onto one leg like she was waiting impatiently at a bus stop. “And what’s in it for me if I do?” 

What the— Were all kids like this? You tried not to let exasperation bleed into your voice. “Don’t you wanna be a hero or something? Please help me.” You were not above begging. 

“I wanna be a doctor,” she told you smartly instead. Good, great. Could she hurry up and go already? You were starting to lose feeling in your legs. 

Your teeth gritted together, but you let the frustration building up inside you fade away. She was just a kid; she didn’t truly know about your circumstances, though you’d practically spilled everything to her just a second ago. You licked at your lips and heaved a sigh. “Doctors are heroes too, you know,” you told her. She only looked expectantly up at you and you grumbled a little before reaching out to pick another apple. “Okay, fine. Catch.” 

You dropped the apple down. She caught it in a small hand and looked closely at it for what felt like a long time. She held up a finger. “One more.” 

This kid was really testing your patience. You rolled your eyes and grabbed another apple to drop down. She caught it again, and after a small nod to herself, started walking away. “Be back soon.” 

Oh thank god. You felt like crying from sheer relief. You watched her disappear down the path and slumped forward, bringing your apple up to your mouth so you could take another bite. And now to wait some more. You tried swinging your legs around a bit to regain some feeling back in them. Hopefully she wouldn’t leave you out to dry. You grumbled to yourself as you finished off your apple and chucked the core as far as you could out into the field—an oddly satisfying action. It’ll decompose eventually. 

You didn't know how much time passed as you waited for the kid to bring help. It was all a blur, honestly, broken up occasionally by you checking the watch on your wrist and not really processing the time on it. But eventually, as you found yourself boredly counting the number of fully green leaves on a branch to your left, you heard someone call up to you in a gruff voice. 

“Hey! You the dumbass who got stuck in a tree?”  

You looked down and made eye contact with what appeared to be a pro-hero. He had ruffled ash-blond hair that stuck up around the black mask over his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest as he glared up at you with glinting carmine eyes that reminded you of the apples surrounding you. A quick glance to the park’s path showed the kid with her ball, waving a hand at you before she disappeared out of your line of sight. 

Aw hell, you thought as you recognized the hero’s costume of orange, black, and green. She’d brought fucking Dynamight—a hero known for his short temper. What were the chances of something like that happening? He must’ve been on patrol in the area. 

“...What's it to ya?” you grumbled down at him, wishing you could conflagrate on the spot to avoid this embarrassing encounter. Just suck it up, you told yourself. You needed to get home, and the only way you were going to do that was by letting this hero get you down. Man, you’d really hit an all new low, hadn’t you?

“Right.” He scowled up at you and you wondered why he looked so angry. Maybe that was his default face. “I’ll jus’ leave, then, since ya don’t need my help—” 

“Wait no! Nonono!” you called out only just a little bit desperately as he made a move as though to turn around. “I’ve been stuck here for hours, man! If I don’t get down I think I might die.” 

Dynamight rolled his eyes and uncrossed his thick arms as he looked back up at you critically. “Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec’.” 

You watched as he seemed to grumble to himself for a moment, then positioned his arms with his palms pointing towards the ground and tensed his legs. You blinked at him. Was he going to—

‘BOOOOM’

You yelped and nearly toppled right off your branch at the sudden explosion that erupted below you like a miniature volcano. Dynamight shot up into the air, a plume of smoke in his wake, and grabbed onto a branch that could support his weight. Then he set off another smaller explosion to propel himself up further, jumping from branch to branch until he finally landed next to you. Or rather, behind you, with the way you were sitting on your own branch. 

You twisted your head back to look at him. He hardly seemed out of breath, and you were a bit impressed at his parkour skills. “Uh. Hi.” 

“Shut it,” he groused. Without even a warning, he grabbed you around your torso. You yelped as he tucked you close to his body—the warmth that radiated from him that was a comfort in the chilly Autumn air, not that you’d admit that out loud—and promptly leapt off the branch. You had to swallow down a scream, your hands holding onto the singular arm wrapped tightly around your body for dear life as he used his other one to set off an explosion to offset his fall. 

You both landed on the ground with a gentle thump and he immediately let go of you so you could stumble forward. Sweet Earth, how I’ve missed you so. Your heart raced in your chest—from the jump or from his unrelenting grip, you would never know—your hands moving to brush your windswept hair away from your face. What the hell, he really didn’t hesitate. Could’ve grabbed you a bit gentler, though, you frowned as you rubbed your chest. You were probably going to bruise later.

You turned around to face him, fixing your rumpled clothes in the meanwhile. He was much taller than you now that you were both on the ground, all muscle and attitude as he glared at you like you’d just spat in his dinner. You paused. “...I was gonna say thanks, but you look like you wanna kill me.” 

“Don’t get stuck in a fuckin’ tree, then,” he snapped. You recoiled slightly at his words, then frowned up at him in offense. 

“Excuse me?” You placed your hands on your hips, incredulous with his behavior. “Like I had wanted to get stuck up there in the first place! For hours, might I add!” 

His jaw tensed like he was going to retort, but he scoffed instead and turned around to start storming over to the bricked path. “Whatever.” You gaped at his back and jogged after him. He was going in the same direction as you anyways, might as well figure out why he was being such a dick. Weren’t heroes supposed to be, you know, nice?

Though, you supposed you were dealing with Dynamight, after all. You’re not sure if he had a single nice bone in his body. 

“No! Not ‘Whatever’,” you mimicked his gruff voice as best as you could once you’d caught up to him and kept pace with his long strides. The thick soles of his boots stomped against the ground with each of his steps. He shot you an annoyed look out of the corner of his eyes, but didn’t say anything. “Who pissed in your bed? Huh?” 

You could practically hear his teeth gritting together before he responded. “Nunya business.”

Maybe it wasn’t, but it really didn’t excuse him treating you like this. “No, tell me why you’re being such an asshole right now. Aren’t heroes supposed to be not-assholes?” 

He turned his head to give you a withering glare with carmine eyes that appeared nearly aflame in the sun’s golden light. It almost made you regret pressing in the first place, but you had at least some self-respect, and you weren’t going to let this guy walk all over you like this. 

“‘M a fuckin’ hero, yeah,” he eventually hissed. “Supposed to be fightin’ villains ‘nd not dealing with dumbass extras who’ve gotten stuck in trees.” 

You huffed at his response. Okay, maybe—just maybe—you could see why he was so aggravated. Didn’t let him off the hook, though. “Okay, first of all, ouch. Second of all, you’re a hero because you’re supposed to help people.” He opened his mouth to snap back at you, but you were too quick and cut across him. “Whatever. Look. I’m sorry you didn’t expect to be spending your afternoon helping me out of a tree. I didn’t expect to spend it stuck up there either. I appreciate the help, for what it’s worth. You saved me from a very uncomfortable night.” Even if he was being the biggest dickhead on the planet right now. Maybe he had a rough day, who knew. You decided to be the bigger person about this whole… situation.

Dynamight stared at you for what felt like a long, long time. It made you realize that you’d both stopped by one of the entrances of the park, just outside of it along the desolate sidewalk. You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets as you waited for him to say something—anything, really—and almost startled when you felt the cool skin of the honey-crisp apple you’d picked come into contact with your fingers. You wrapped them around it. 

Eventually, he closed his eyes and let out a deep, deep sigh. Tension that you hadn’t realized was present along his shoulders seemed to melt away as they slumped slightly down. He sniffed and jutted his head out to the side slightly, sunlight painting smooth planes across his face and turning his hair into a pale blond in a way that was honestly pretty gorgeous. You’d take that admission to your grave. 

“...Yeah.” And then he added a mumbled “Sorry” under his breath that you figured was the best you were going to get at the moment. He didn’t seem like someone who apologized often, from what you knew about him. “Rough day.” 

“I figured,” you said lightly. Then, you brought your hand out of your jacket and grabbed his own gloved one to place the apple you had within his palm. You patted it gently. “Here. As a thank you.” Then, after just a quick moment of hesitation, you added, “Hope all goes well for you.” 

And with a small nod at him, you turned around and started to make your way back home, hands in your pockets and an eagerness to your steps at the prospect of getting to rest after what felt like a very long day. 

Dynamight stood there, at the entrance of the park, and looked down at the small apple within his hand after he stared at your retreating back for a few moments. His lips twitched for a slight second and he turned to head down the street in the opposite direction as you, his hand bringing the apple up to his mouth so he could bite into it with a crisp, sweet crunch.

[daegutowns]

svt as your hogwarts boyfriend

tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader

gryffindor: seungcheol, hoshi, chan 

seungcheol: quidditch team beater, quidditch team captain

prepare to be sick of him!! 

very competitive, so match days are always so big for him

if you’re not dripped out in gryffindor colors (regardless of which house you’re in), it’s over. he’ll be so pouty and whiny

“baby, it’s match day. why are you not wearing your custom made quidditch jersey i made for you?”  

“don’t talk to me, you’re wearing [house other than gryffindor] colors. nope, obviously you don’t wish me good luck.” 

big bad quidditch team captain has nothing on his lover 

says he plays better when you’re cheering for him 

claims he’s mcgonagall’s best student

he’s actually very good at transfigurations

he wants to be an auror one day, so this is just a step in the process

mcgonagall actually does adore him

very protective of his quidditch team members and would gladly start a fight to defend any one of them (hot-headed but won’t admit it) 

always says he’ll buy you anything, no matter how many galleons he has to spend

actually gets upset if you try to pay for your own chocolate frog on the train

the type to always want to sit next to you if you share a class together (except potions)

hoshi: quidditch team chaser 

he is mr. horanghae…. mr. quidditch is in my blood…. mr. tiger chaser 

his plans are to become a professional quidditch team player

the british national quidditch team coach has already scouted him out

genuinely a quidditch prodigy, since he’s a muggleborn wizard. just picked up a quaffle and was an instant baller 

mcgonagall’s pride and joy…. she lives and breathes quidditch 

he has nothing else going on for him academically, really -- just trying to pass and that’s it lol 

snape hates his guts. didn’t even have to do much, really 

only asks for quidditch stuff for his birthday

he loves when you shout out nonsense stuff like “get ‘em tiger!” or “horanghae!” or “tiger’s gaze!” during the quidditch match. it’s soooo embarrassing for you but it actually gets him fired up 

the type to fall asleep in class and then ask you for notes afterwards 

chan: 

he wants to be on the quidditch team starting line so bad, but he’s been benched… then injured… then benched again… 

but he’s, like, lowkey highkey very good at defense against the dark arts??? 

like, conjured a patronus at the age of 12 kind of good

comes from a family of aurors (his dad’s side), so this kind of just runs in his blood 

he offers to tutor you in it because it’s his greatest passion in life 

of course, he’ll need some tutoring in all the other subjects…. snape has lit his ass on fire (metaphorically, for legal purposes) due to many badly made, strange potions he’s made 

hufflepuff: dk, mingyu, seungkwan, vernon 

mingyu: quidditch team beater 

of course this big puppy is a hufflepuff! but, he’s the most gryffindor-like hufflepuff ever

even the sorting hat had trouble placing him in the correct house, but ultimately chose hufflepuff 

he honestly didn’t even know if he should be trying out for the quidditch team, but dk brought him there and he barely even had to struggle at tryouts

his big frame and strong arms make him an excellent beater

he still has a fear of heights, he just forgets about it during quidditch (like what)

he loves when you praise him for his quidditch skills, especially after a particularly hard practice or grueling game 

he just wants to be held in your arms near the fireplace, is that too much to ask for ?!?!?!!?!!

surprisingly very smart at most subjects too, especially potions

the only thing he struggles with is herbology (like wtf would he be doing near all these screaming plants or oozing flowers????) 

kind of based for a hufflepuff to not be good at herbology bc of professor sprout but alas…. 

he loves care of magical creatures, because he’s like a dog -- just friends with everyone 

he’s kind of like the cedric diggory type ngl -- well liked, friendly, athletic, smart 

the type to want to walk around the castle holding hands all the time 

deekay: quidditch team chaser 

the most stereotypical hufflepuff ever 

so kind, so loyal, so hardworking, so….. 

the happy virus, sunshine, rainbows shooting out of his ass kind of guy

seriously, there’s not one hufflepuff that doesn’t love him 

he plans on becoming a charms professor at hogwarts one day! 

he’s soooo good at charms 

so much so that girls around hogwarts giggle and call him a charmer

like he got people blushing n shit 

turned down the offer to become captain because it was a lot of pressure! he is still going to be the next quidditch team captain next year. 

he simply did not have a choice in this matter 

loves going to hogsmeade and sitting in the three broomsticks with his friends laughing because it’s so cozy. he wants to live in that feeling forever 

the type to send you a love letter by owl on valentines day to watch your reaction while you sit with your friends 

seungkwan: hogwarts choir soprano 

he is THE boo seungkwan of the hogwarts choir! 

professor flitwick (the conductor of the choir) is always amazed at his performance ability. seungkwan has never Not had a solo in the hogwarts annual christmas choir performance 

likes to watch quidditch practices while he does his divination essays 

he feels like it gives them a certain vibe while he makes up dreams about his imaginary rabbit dying for trelawney 

if dk was everyone’s crush, seungkwan is everyone’s friend

there’s no table he’s not welcome to sit at, and definitely no house that would turn him away

the most social butterfly in hogwarts, even more so than the weasley twins

his networking capabilities is insane, but necessary for his life path 

he wants to work in the ministry of magic, close to the minister of magic 

this requires lots of connections! he wants to collect those wizard society inductions like pokemon cards 

the type to ask you to come to his birthday party as a special guest but he actually invited half the castle and dumbledore 

vernon: 

he’s just here for the vibes 

very seriously collecting all the chocolate frog cards. if you see one, please check with vernon to see if he has it or not. he’ll give away the ones he doesn’t need and is always willing to trade

please help him. this is his life’s goal right now

is really good at quidditch but doesn’t really vibe with organized sports, so he just comes to tryouts to play with other people

tried to start a recreational interhouse quidditch team to play outside of the house matches but it turned messy so he gave up 

really good at herbology and care of magical creatures! he just understands 

not sure what he wants to do in the future, but he’s honestly down for whatever

the type to ask you if you’re free for a date and then forget, so you both end up just asking the house elves in the kitchen for food 

ravenclaw: jun, wonwoo, woozi

jun: quidditch team chaser  

another person who is just here for the ride

just naturally gifted at a lot of subjects, so he doesn’t really study that much for the exams either. it really makes other people mad

once you asked him for help in a class (“jun, why is this the right answer?”) and he just gave too vague answers (“that’s just the order the things are put in.”) that you just kind of gave up 

will definitely be asleep in class if you let him 

history of magic is spent 90% of the time with his head on the desk sleeping away zzz

sometimes just gets really sleepy, what can he say???

a really good chaser, but just plays quidditch because it’s fun

he goes to practice because games/matches are more fun when you’re actually good at playing 

self-dubbed “arthur wen of quidditch”

what does it mean??? you will have to ask him yourself

the type to sneak you into his bed on friday nights so you can spend all weekend cuddling together

wonwoo: prefect  

what an absolute heartthrob

he’s not really a man of many words, so he was genuinely surprised when he became a prefect for his house 

is actually a very understanding and caring prefect

he doesn’t really like taking points away from other houses or giving out detentions and only uses it as a last resort 

you can usually find him reading novels/writing essays in the library (madam pince is very enamored with him) or playing wizard chess in the ravenclaw common room

he’s VERY good at wizard’s chess

if he could be a professional wizard’s chess player, he would.

ron weasley has nothing on jeon wonwoo

a lot of younger ravenclaws like asking him questions because he always explains things so thoroughly and patiently

tutors younger students in other houses for extra money -- fellow ravenclaws free of charge! -- and sends it to his family 

wants to be a professor at hogwarts but still isn’t sure which subject he wants to teach. he figures he could be a librarian like madam pince if he were allowed to be

the type to gift you a new book on christmas every year and highlight/annotate things that reminded him of you 

woozi: 

also legendary in the hogwarts choir

he arranges all the pieces for both the choir and band

wants to be a professional wizard producer and music writer

once got to meet the weird sisters and got a random muggle t-shirt signed by them that he carries like his most prized possession

other than that, he just like hanging out with you, his friends, and going to the quidditch matches whenever ravenclaw plays 

he’s not really that interested in other house matches unless it’s an important one that affects ravenclaw 

he tries to be interested in your house’s matches too (if you’re not a ravenclaw) but you can tell he would rather not 

tends to befriend a lot of gryffindors (like seungcheol and hoshi) for some reason unknown to even himself 

the type to write poems to you when he gets bored in class 

slytherin: jeonghan, joshua, hao

jeonghan: prefect

oh, don’t even try to mess with him, because he will get you back and worse 

definitely takes advantage of his prefect status way more than he should, but rules are meant to be bent 

sneaks you into the prefect bathroom because “you shouldn’t have to take a bath with the rest of the normies” or so he says. 

likes pranks and practical jokes, so he often turns a blind eye to the weasley twins when they stir up trouble 

they have an unspoken partnership

weasley twins don’t prank him, jeonghan doesn’t snitch on them 

it’s honestly a win-win for both of them. 

he’s really good at charms

this is mostly because it teaches you shortcuts of how to do everyday things but just faster and lazier with magic 

his favorite is using the duplication charm to make copies of polaroids he took with you so both of you can have a copy of it 

he likes messing with the younger students and getting them to loosen up (like what are they always so serious for?) with him + reminding people when to have fun (but also when to buckle up!) 

the type to ask you on a date to three broomsticks and then prank you into thinking he forgot his wallet in his room 

joshua: head boy 

classic head boy vibes from a gentle sexy. jk he is so chaotic, but no one really expects it from him until after he gets all these privileges 

you want a permit to paint a brick pink? just a single brick? okay done.

you want to rearrange the quidditch trophies by most to least impressive accomplishment? okay done. 

you want to take a date walking around the castle while he patrols the hallways? okay done. 

he lives for the things that are ambiguously not breaking the rules but definitely not abiding by them either 

kind of athletic (grew up playing quidditch in his neighborhood around the other wizard children) but never liked it enough to actually play for the team

it’s way too competitive + he wants more time for you. it’s already hard enough with all the head boy stuff 

also was in the hogwarts band but then it was too much work so he only did it for a year 

very gifted in potions and transfigurations! 

he always wants you to teach him the more boring subjects like history of magic since he always finds himself doodling instead of listening or dozing off in that class

his dream is to become a healer at st. mungo’s hospital for magical maladies

likes to tease you that you’re mrs. head boy 

he treats you like you’re the first lady and he’s the president. it’s a very american way of thinking, but then again, he is american. 

if he catches you doing bad stuff, you’re legally required to write him a love letter. it’s the rules. no detention, no points taken away from your house. just a nice love letter. 

the type to let you dress/style him for all your dates because he wants to have matching outfits always

hao: quidditch team seeker

he’s actually one of the most popular people in slytherin house due to his insane skills as seeker

his catch rate is insane, like he can sniff out the snitch on the field

he’s already set to play for the national team in the U20 league and for the montrose magpies (the british-irish quidditch league team with the most wins)

his knack for flying was discovered during their first year flying class with madam hooch. after the class, she spoke with snape and set him up to shadow the quidditch team to be on the starting lineup starting his second year

he pretends like he doesn’t care if you come support his matches or not but is always visibly happy when you do

the times when you can’t because you’ve got a big essay due the next day or you’re sick is when he pretends he doesn’t mind (because you gotta focus on yourself too!) 

his favorite subject is divination (because he really vibes with the tea leaf readings)

but, his best subject is astronomy. he’s the best student as has been the best student in astronomy out of your entire year (all 7 years!) 

the type to ask you if you want to share your scarf while you walk around the castle together 

[mischiefmaker615]

Feral

Summary: Tapped, Caged and Frozen.

Rating: R *Dark*

Note: Be gentle loves, i believe this is my first one shot with Frost Giant Loki technically Lol one Frost Giant one shot, coming up @buttercupcookies-blog

"oh don't get your nickers in a twist he's right over oh-!"

''Ow!'' you yelp after feeling a sharp pain hit your ankle, throwing your balance off to where you needed to extend a hand against the wall. Wincing, you look down to see a small piece of glass in your skin and not to far away, a broken phone. Yet what was more shocking was that the now broken phone lay just between Loki's feet.

''oh dear how clumsy of me and now look at where it's gotten me'' Loki sighed, scolding himself as he stepped over the mess and came over to you, his height reminding you just how small you were compared to a Frost Giant.

There was no fear, Loki had redeemed himself and his people long ago by helping Thor with various threats now and again to earth, so him towering above you now didn't send you any red flag feelings at all as you shyly tilted your head up to find him hunched a little to try to get a better look- I which you shifted away.

''it's fine- I know it was an accident. I'll just find a way to go clean-''

''none sense darling, it's the least I could do for harming such a.. fine mortal such as yourself''

The last statement had his eyes slipping past your shoulders a few times, making your cheeks redden as you glance back at your table where your friends were. Wasted and not even wondering where you were. He was a king after all, would it be rude to refuse? His charming smile had you practically woozy.. or was that just your buzz and blood loss talking.. but still, you couldn't help but hesitate.

''well.. I have a first aid kit in my car-''

''that would be perfect darling, allow me to escort you so you don't accidently lose your balance. A leg is a terrible limb to injure ad I feel bad enough already.'' Loki reasoned and took your hand without a word from you.

Just going with it and not seeing the real harm, you let him lead you to the back of the restaurant and out the back exit, taking note that his skin was colder than the night air. Your shiver didn't go unnoticed by Loki, who took his time walking since you were injured and his large stride was enough to equal practically three of your steps.

''my apologies love, I'm afraid getting closer would do you no good with your dropped temperature.'' He lightly joked as he slowed even more so you could lead to where your car was.

''you apologize a lot'' you couldn't help but tease, not sure if it was the right thing to say or not to a royal but his chuckle made you feel like it was alright.

''if I didn't for when I've done wrong, what kind of a king would I be.'' He smiled before you got to your car.

You've always loved larger vehicles and with your hurt leg, it made you regret packing far from the beginning. You even refused when he offered to carry you but you knew your heart's pounding would give you away about finding him attractive. Better to limp then to be embarrassed.

''thank you for your help but I should have this from here.'' You said gratefully as you opened the trunk and pulled out a small first aid kit from the side.

''don't be silly darling, I've started this so let me at least help finish it.'' he smiled and you jumped a little to feel his hands on your hips, taking note of the size before he carefully turned you around to face him and lifted you up to sit you down in the trunk.

The action alone made you blush and your hands gripped the edge to try to get yourself out and of course your words stuttered by his touch. ''its probably just a scratch Loki, I'll be-''

''a scratch normally doesn't cause one to limp darling, at least let me see it.'' he shushed and kneeled down with your ankle in his hand.

Holding back a wince, he looked over the shard of glass and hummed in thought. ''..this might make you uncomfortable darling but my finger tips seem to be a bit to big to get the piece of glass and I don't wish to risk you hurting yourself further so I need you to trust me.''

As if he'd knew you were going to question him first, he then bent his head down to your ankle, making your eyes widen and your cheeks began adopting their knew color of embarrassment as you watched him.

''what are you- ah!'' you yelped, your lips parted in silence a moment after as he raised his head with the glass between his teeth and a sly grin on his lips.

''not to worry darling, It was merely..'' his words slowed as his smile faltered to an unreadable expression and the glass falling to the floor.

Thinking maybe something was medically wrong or something, you glance down at your leg that was bleeding a little with the glass out now but nothing you could see to cause such a concerned reaction as you looked at Loki. ''what is it?'' you asked carefully.

His eyes slowly moved down to your bleeding leg, his eyes having darkened to a burgundy rather than a crimson. A shiver ran down your spine as you saw him inhaling deeply, almost like a wolf tracking a scent before a gasp left your lips when you felt his tongue run flat against your cut.

''gods I was unaware a Midgardian could taste this divine..'' he breathed, his voice almost representing a possessive growl as he placed his lips on your wound and sucked, his hand anchoring your ankle in his grip as your own tightened on the ledge of the vehicle.

''L-Loki stop- that's enough-'' you stuttered, trying to wrap your head over how this entire scene changed from help to get help! Were Frost Giants some sort of.. vampires? But you felt no teeth on you, just merely his tongue lapping at your wound and his lips occasionally sucking. Your heart pounded as you tried resisting his grip but he was far stronger than you.

Just as you opened your mouth to shout, he finally released your leg from his mouth and stood, his hands resting on either side of you to cage you in before you could even think about hopping out from the back. ''you drive me feral Y/N.. I must taste all of you..'' he practically moaned as his hands gripped your hips, his movements careful not to crush you from your mere size as you were but practically a doll to him.

Your eyes were wide and your mind raced to keep up with your heart, knowing what his intentions were and you checked your options. His knee rested just between your hanging legs from the ledge of the car, not allowing you to kick. His arms on your hips, leaving no room to use your arms to bring yourself out and any physical strength you could muster would be practically ineffective to his size and strength anyway.

Trapped. Caged. Frozen.

As he leaned forward, his eyes dragging over your chest and down to the middle of your thighs, your cheeks heated up and fear met your stomach as you leaned back away from him, only to encourage his advance as he climbed in as you tried crawling back away from him.

Trapped.

His Frost Giant size made him barely able to fit the back of the car, even it being a large vehicle but somehow the trunk door closed. His back was pressed up against the ceiling and his head bent low so his horns pressed up against the back of the back seats. All the while you lay caged underneath him with his knees on either side of you and his hands resting on each side of your head. His breathing was deep, as if he was using everything In his being to hold himself and you shook where you lay.

''p-please don't do this- you're a royal.. you can have anyone you want-''

''then I shall have you'' he smirked, his eyes blown with lust as if you had just given him permission and he bowed his head to begin sucking and licking at your neck.

Your hands rested on each of his shoulders, pushing him but to no success. His helmet gently yet firmly pressed against the side of your head as you looked away from him, only resulting in giving him permanent access to attacking your neck.

Caged.

You felt on of his hands running down your side and down your thigh, firmly grasping it and despite your resistance, pulled it around his leg so he had a knee between your own, taking away your ability to close your legs.

His lips moved across your jawbone and nibbled your earlobe, making your nails dig more into his exposed shoulders where his smirk showed he noticed your ticklish spot. you whimpered, pushing him away and pushed at his chest but as his lips traveled below your ear and licked at your neck, the more you realized how the rest of your body was reacting.

Your legs shook as you got light goosebumps over your arms while your shivers traveled more up your body and it wasn't necessarily because of his different body temperature. To your horror, you felt yourself beginning to get aroused and your eyes widened.

Frozen.

His hand gripped your thigh, rubbing it up and down and dipped down now and again to squeeze your ass before you felt it travel to your waist and his fingers curled to grip the edge of your jeans.

''w-wait-''

RIP

He yanked once and your jeans ripped apart, exposing your intimate parts only covered by your black panties. He shifted so he was looming above you again, his eyes traveling down to examine his new findings and smirked, almost seeing a hungry in his eyes as he gripped your hips and pushed you up more so you were closer to the back of the seats for his height to be accommodated but he was still in a hunched position.

You prayed the signs would show that this had to stop, or at least someone would return to their car and perhaps notice the scene but the growing fog in your windows would make it impossible for someone to notice inside. A frost giant with their height alone in the back of the car would have no way to dip their head comfortably and reach your inner most area, even with the top of your head at the back of the back seats.

That wouldn't stop Loki.

Your eyes widened once more as the snap brought you out of your desperate thoughts and noticed he had removed your panties and looked hungrier than ever with lust. His eyes raised to lock with yours, a mischievous and almost a cruel look formed on his lips before you suddenly felt gentle yet firm pressure against your lips.

Fear filling your chest, your hand flew up to investigate but found no object at your mouth but you found yourself unable to open your mouth. Only muffles could be heard as you tried yelling out but your lips would not open. Just before you could panic more with being invisibly gagged, Loki slid a hand behind you to rest behind your back before you were suddenly pressed against his chest.

Without missing a beat, you two were suddenly flipped and Loki now lay comfortably on his back, being able to accommodate his full height and you now on top of him. finding the opportunity to try to dive over the seats, his grip on your hips tightened as your knees rested practically against his chest. Youd practically have to do the slits if you could even dream straddling a frost giant.

''ah ah ah darling, I have other plans for you'' he teased and suddenly you were shoved forward, his hands gripping your hips before you knees landed beside each side of his head, cunt meeting his awaiting tongue as he wasted no time to lap and dive his tongue into you.

A whimper followed be a held back moan hummed on your lips, your heart rate picking up at your panicked feeling of such an intimate position where you tried gripping the seats to try to get away but Loki planted his hands firmly on your hips, grounding you and you could practically feel him smirk against your cunt.

He merely shook his head at your attempt to get away, resulting in rubbing the tip of his nose against your clit while he ran his tongue up and down against your cunt, making you shiver as your arousal picked up.

You hated him, you wanted to hate this, but he was making it very difficult in trying to make this not enjoyable. Your nails dug into the seats as your chest pressed against the back of them. Loki's grip lightened a little on your hips as your resistance to get up faltered and he began rocking you back and forth against his mouth and nose.

Your eyes raised, your head falling back as a hand fell to grip one of his horns and your shivers began to grow as well as your orgasm. The feeling in the pit of your stomach grew intense and your vision danced, cunt clenching around nothing as he tongue fucked you. Your grip tightened, your breathing picked up and your eyes fluttered.

All thoughts were gone, all concerns were gone. All your body wanted now was release. Loki knew you were drawing close as he moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations against you which made you return to now welcomed moans that were able to leave your lips. Your breath hitched and your back arched. Loki's grip tightened and slapped your ass, making you yelp with snapped pleasure before his tongue flicked and quickened.

All was enough and you fell from that glorious edge and climaxed. You moaned, practically screaming his name if it wasn't muffled but his magic and your body shuddered, cumming in waves as he moaned against you, lapping every drop graciously as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure.

Loki's movements didn't slow down until your body began slowing down and you panted with your vision beginning to return. With a smirk, he suddenly sat up, your body sliding down him to lay on your back between his legs practically, his obvious erection against your back as he hunched forward to look down at you. His hands held your hips and your lips parted finally so you took proper breaths, your eyes looking up at him glassy while he smirked down at you.

Proud and hungry.

Raising up two of his digits, long and large, mischief danced in his eyes as they dragged down to your cunt.

''alright darling, I'd say you are practically prepared for your.. fitting.''

[taegularities]

hi, could you maybe write something for STARS BEHIND WAVES?

maybe about how they’re doing right now? (fluff, maybe suggestive?)

I really really love this story of yours:)))

Do you think you’ll write an epilogue someday?

(No pressure, i’m just really obsessed with this story)

Have a nice day/good night;)

fic: stars behind waves

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: kissing, suggestive, his wandering hands and crude mouth lol, this is literally one of the softest couple i have and i love them so much, mention of fear of heights, oc is scared of a river :'), jealousy <3 pure fluff and bliss and love!! wc: 3.1k lol a/n: thank you for the request!! definitely one of my fav fics 🥺 i don't think i will be able to write an epilogue :( but rest assured, they're the happiest they can be. also, i really kinda love this lil drabble, so if you do, too, lmk hehe <3 a/n 2: i just found this in my drafts from when we were playing the amc game a couple months ago lol. hope you enjoy. is also unedited, so be gentle with me lmaoo <3

–

“Maldives.”

“God, no,” you reject, “sounds gorgeous, but. I can't deal with the heat anymore.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, fatigued from the unproductive day, but agrees, “Okay. Maybe you’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of…”

The last words turn into a mumble, drifting when his attention does. He scrolls on, big eyes glued to the bright screen. He’s been changing tabs for hours now; between travel destinations and booking sites, he’s exhausted himself.

Several three-digit-numbers have burned themselves into your brain from comparing a dozen vacations; planning such a thing is tedious.

You saved money for this. Working your ass off throughout the year, putting extra effort in overtime hours to visit a place you’ve only dreamed of thus far. Jungkook graduated, and you promised you’d steer towards an unforgettable summer.

His shifts at the bookstore were tiring, too. One too many times you called during lunch break just to meet a groggy voice. The late dinners at home transpired similarly quiet, his eyes similarly fatigued.

Then he’d cling onto you at night; he found your warmth solacing. Would tug you in, smack his lips. Yawn against your shoulder before slipping into dreamland, uttering a couple last mumbled “I love you”s and pouty, whiny “Don’t wanna work”s.

Summer couldn’t come faster.

But so couldn’t dinner.

“Maybe we should think about it another time,” you say. “I’m getting hungry.”

Jungkook drops the attached laptop mouse dramatically, shoving it away as he leans back on his chair and declares, “Thank fuck. I’m starving.”

“Should’ve just said something.”

Dinner is relieving to the two of you; having used up all words for today, you eat in peace, each enjoying your meal. Jungkook, reaching for his glass of water, looks up at you once, bowl half empty.

His eyes land above your clavicles, right where the charm dangles. Sparkles. The stars he promised you almost two decades ago. He can’t believe it’s barely been two years since the summer occurred when he found you again.

Time has passed; the two of you reunited with ease.

Spending days and nights together doesn’t come without fights — occasionally, you snap at each other, reminding the other of lonely times, spitting words that soon turn into regret.

But those arguments, as natural as sunlight, pass quickly and give way to comforting words, lips on scarred cheeks, hands over warm bodies.

Even when you were younger, you’d make up softly, comfortably. Would apologise and seek an unknown spot on the island, starving for a distraction. You’d find yet another shell without pearls in it; would try to make things right.

Jungkook remembers one day particularly well; surprising how well it fits this very moment.

Back then you’d hiked up a hill, dizzy in the damp summer heat. You cursed at Jungkook for dragging you along when you’d suggested an effortless, pleasant afternoon at the small market.

Halfway through your journey, you feared you’d gotten lost. You didn’t meet people anymore. The forest grew more tense. You kept your eyes and ears open for snakes or bears or whatever might linger here.

You only felt a sliver of hope when you heard water splashing nearby, hoping it was a lake or the ocean. But what you found instead filled you with far more discomfort.

Not because the river that you found on top wasn’t very narrow or harmless. Neither because it ended in a waterfall that fell for quite a while and then continued the same river, meeting the ocean somewhere.

No, you felt terrified because you knew what Jungkook would want to do.

“Let’s go back,” you immediately blurted.

But he was already on his shit, shaking his head with a twinkle in his dark eyes. You pulled at his tee, ready to turn at your heel and roll down the hill. Jungkook, however, pushed your hand away, freeing himself from your touch.

“No. Let’s cross this.”

You knew it. He was bold and idiotic enough; an adrenaline junkie the way you couldn’t be. Even cliff diving took you a good while to tackle and then longer to get used to. He taught you and kept doing so every year, because you’d enter the island with a newfound fear of heights each time.

“Uhm,” you said, raising your hands in defence, “I do not think so, dude.”

“But loo—”

“No. *No, I—”

You were so close to the edge, though probably not enough for the current to pull you in. Maybe you just hallucinated the proximity, too. Because thinking about it in hindsight, there was probably nowhere that much of a danger for you.

But you still weren’t ready to die yet.

So you ripped your eyes open further, panicking a little when he stepped into the water along with his terrible crocs. You clamoured, voice higher than ever, “What the fuck are you *doing?”

And maybe you would’ve kept your stance and ran away if he didn’t smile back at you like you were nowhere safer than with him. A reassuring grin, secure and certain.

You guess you were already hopelessly in love with him then. Not to mention that you still constantly lost yourself in the kiss you’d shared on your porch this spring. Your very *first kiss…

And you still craved more ever since. Only, Jungkook had never given you more after that.

It didn’t help when he held out a hand, remaining teasing yet sweet with a tilted, crooked smirk. His stance, firm in the water, lured you in although you definitely weren’t one to be risky like this.

But somehow, he could still convince you. Forced a frustrated sigh out of you, pulling you in like a magnetic force as you neared the river. You could see the other side not too far from you, but in your fear, the distance seemed endless.

“C’mon. We got this,” he promised, his voice drowning in the sounds of the current. “If we die, we die together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shit, you really think you’re poetic.” You climbed over a rock, taking off your shoes, holding them in one hand as the other clutched his fingers tight from the first moment, like a reflex. “You watch too many dramas, gosh.”

He held you in a careful grip. You were smaller then, and his seventeen-year-old body, a strong result of regular gym sessions, withheld the water far better than yours. You, as opposed to him, almost dropped to your knees wading forwards.

You stepped on a somewhat sharp rock under the white waves, but he wouldn’t let you drift away. His attention remained on you. Halfway across, he said, “Here.”

He took your arm and pulled you close, slinging it around his torso, enabling a stronger grip. He was an ass and gentle friend at once — because he scared you on purpose a moment later, acting as though he was slipping.

And just when you yelped once more, watching him squint an eye at the volume, you swore at him thoroughly. You mewled words you hadn’t heard in your voice before, and he laughed, stating, “That reminds me of a school trip.”

“What,” you panted, out of breath, “goddamn school trip.”

“We went to a climbing park, and like… this girl,” he sucked in air through his mouth, tired, too; and you held your breath, “this girl from my class was literally trembling. I— I helped her over a distance until she felt secure. But…”

He groaned, struggling a bit. Or maybe he just acted like he did, you didn’t know. You were more focused than before, that was for sure.

“She was screaming just like you,” he finished.

Suddenly, you weren’t that frightened anymore.

You even forgot that you’d feared death just a moment ago. Your chest burned green.

You asked, “Right. And… and you were holding her like this, too, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Cool. Co—”

You were out of balance. One blink passed, and you tumbled, immediately digging your nails into his shirt and his skin. His hands saved you as you placed your free fingers onto a stone automatically, one shoe sliding off your fingers.

The river carried it away from you until you couldn’t see it anymore, and you furrowed your eyebrows, mouth wide as you yelled, “No!”

“Forget it, we just need to move!”

“It wasn’t me who fucking suggested this!” you snarled, gritting your teeth.

Your knees shook. You stared ahead — just a couple feet more.

“I got you,” was all he answered, “almost there.”

And when you finally were, you were still cursing, pushing his body away. Under your breath, you murmured a dozen words, and Jungkook, wiping soaked hands at his shorts, couldn’t stop chuckling.

His hair was damp, outrageous when he pushed it back, but it couldn’t distract you this time. Instead, you threw your remaining shoe at him, watching him dodge it with an amused wide grin.

You couldn’t be bothered with his jokes; he was being irritating. There was literally nothing over here. Who knew if there was a way to get off this hill from here at all.

Knees still liquid, you targeted a tree and took a seat underneath it. You caught your breath, observing him as he sniffled and picked up your shoe. You felt empathy for his shorts; he still dragged his hands over them, leaving dark, wet stains.

Then, he dropped down next to you. Nudged your shoulder and said, “Come *on. That was fun.” A beat of a pause as you moved your head to glare at him. Then, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“*You,” you started, face close to his, a finger pointing at his chest, “were almost gonna organise a funeral.”

“Please. Nothing was gonna happen to you.”

“No. Your *own.”

He laughed again. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

You exhaled. In truth, it hadn’t been that bad. Looking at the river from here, you truly were far enough from the edge, and the water had barely reached your knees. But the thing he said…

You searched for a way to make things less awkward; to not let him know that you were seething with envy. A harmless question came to mind, subtle as you inquired, “Was I at least a little braver than that… classmate?”

He lifted his head in thought, humming.

“Hmm. No.” Your shoulders slumped. How rude. “Hard to judge, though. It took us only a few minutes here, and it took her *hours to cross the climbing park.”

You didn’t tell him that sometimes, you were supposed to take hours. Not everybody was as athletic as him. Hmph.

“You helped her all this time?” you asked.

“Half of it at least.”

You shouldn’t have been jealous. Not bothered by how casual he made it sound, how he nodded… it was all whatever. But also—

“And then?” you dug. “You drove back to school and acted like you hadn’t just bonded?”

“Uhm…” Your heart dropped. Typical first love, typical first frustrating feelings. Your young heart was a lot more feeble. “Something like that.”

But you understood.

“Oh, Jeon…”

“It was just a kiss after lunch, okay. That day, and never again.”

Ah, you hated this. So he could kiss someone else, but not you aga—

No. Stop. What dumb thoughts.

“Okay. Good for you,” you told him, back to your prior tone.

Damn it.

You stared at the abandoned shoe between the two of you.

Shit, how were you gonna go back with one of your initially two Nikes on your feet? He’d have to carry you. At least you put both your socks in the one shoe you didn’t lose…

“Don’t act that way,” Jungkook spoke through your thoughts, patting your knee, “it was a lot more fun with you. She kept saying she wanted to go home and that messed with my own experience.”

“And yet, you kissed her.”

“Yeah, well. Happens.” He rolled his eyes. His voice was still casual and soft; perhaps he didn’t notice the storm in your pupils. “But I’ve had better kisses.”

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe that’s why he was saying that.

You hoped for a certain answer, but still tried, “Oh? Have you kissed more girls since spring?”

Oops. Okay, you didn’t want to ask so explicitly. But up until spring, he had never kissed anyone. And your heart fell into your ass, shoulders relaxing when he admitted, “No. Just her.”

Your eyes were wide now. You ogled at him, and then down to your drying legs again. Suppressing a smile, you nodded; and when you stared up at him anew, he was watching you intently.

Carefully, with tenderness in his gaze.

And he was close. You were half certain he’d kiss you again because for the tiniest moment, his eyes flitted down to your lips. But to your chagrin, the day and summer ended like this — mouth untouched.

He wouldn’t do more until years later.

Instead, he said, “I guess that was the last thing we still had left, right? Think I know this island inside out by now.”

“Probably,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat, swallowed. “Would be cool to explore more with you, though. Outside this place, I mean.”

But once again, you couldn’t foresee that it’d be your last summer together for a long time. That you wouldn’t meet the boy bringing you the stars until you had hurt and broken enough.

And he didn’t know either; of course he didn’t. Because soon he promised, “When we’re older and richer, I’ll take you to the mountains. Okay?”

You giggled, unaware of the future. Naive and thinking you’d never separate from him, that you were destined to stay together — as friends or whatever else fate wrote for you.

So you hit his chiselled chest just lightly, telling him, “You’re gonna make me fear heights again, Jeon.”

“Nah,” he rebutted, “I’ll show you the clouds,” he pointed to the sky you couldn’t see, hidden behind the branches and leaves, “from up close.”

“Hmm,” you voiced, “the stars aren’t enough, huh?”

“They shouldn’t be. Strive for more and stuff, right?”

Right…

For a couple seconds, you just looked at him. Nodding a little, smiling, probably lovesick with hearts floating in your eyes.

Eventually, you lifted up your body, getting to your feet with a hand against the tree. “Okay,” you finally agreed, “mountains then.”

–

The charm glimmers in the light. It flashes Jungkook a little, and he blinks, moving his gaze up to your face. You’re finishing up the remnants of your soup, bowl tilted, getting to the last drops.

But your movements are slow, and you’re quiet… and he wonders whether he stayed silent for too long, too.

He calls your name softly, meeting curious eyes. His heart immediately pounds, and he says, “I was just thinking of something.”

You smile. “Figured. I was, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You first, though.”

“Hmm.” He lets the spoon drop, looking at the empty bowl, and then suggests with folded arms, “What do you think of the mountains this year?”

You raise your eyebrows. Look at him as if you understood. As if you recognised where his mind wandered to, and where the source of this idea lies.

And then, you prove that very point when you ask, “Were you remembering the waterfall incident?”

His lips form an O, expression sickeningly sweet and surprised.

“Were you, too?”

“Just a little. Since we said we don’t want any heat this year.”

He puffs out a breath; a slight, disbelieving shake of his head follows. Then, he simply says, “Sick.”

You kiss your teeth, nodding along. “You did promise back then. Mountains, I mean.”

“I did. And we can still totally go.”

“I’d love to.”

A brief silence envelopes the room. The pause is pregnant, the air lighter than before; and then he breaks the stillness.

“Hey… you gotta admit. You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His voice harbours playfulness, but his eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity. You can’t help but chuckle; thinking back to it, your pout was hilarious. Troubles used to be different back then — your younger self wouldn’t have survived opening the door to a half naked friend. Jungkook, toned chest out, right behind her.

A crazy summer indeed.

“You kissed me that year,” you say, “and then you kissed someone else. Teenage me was going *through it.”

You scrunch your nose, and when he does it in the middle of a laugh, too, you lose your cool. Might be due to the bunny teeth flashing. The sweet crinkles around his eyes.

But you lift off the chair, hurriedly rounding the table, lean over his body and sandwich his face between your palms. You don’t waste another moment — connect your lips quickly, mouth moving against his.

He lets out a tiny sound of surprise, but doesn’t reject you. Instead, his hands wander to your waist in reciprocation, dropping to your hips and then to your—

You gasp, tongues intertwining eagerly; you taste the freshly eaten dinner. Your keen hands hold onto his dark locks. He breaks the kiss only to get to his feet, pulling you close to his body. His head tilts, the kiss deeper. Fingers cradling the nape of your neck.

And then, as he sucks in some air, he whispers, “What was that?”

“Just…” You inhale. “Catching up. Doing what I should’ve done back then.”

“She says as if I don’t kiss her *all the time.” Soft peck against your lower lip. “Or as if I wasn’t just inside her this noo—”

“You’re so obscene, Koo.”

He snickers. “Alright. Now that we know what we want to do,” his breath is warm against your skin; you shiver, “we can book the vacay a bit later, too, right?”

Breathing is hard, speaking even more.

Your lips are parted, yearning for more. You’re irritated by the layers of clothing between the two of you — which is why you’re quick to agree, “Not opposed to a break.”

“Also,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, voice tinged with anticipation, “just so you know. Our kiss *was way better than whatever I did with Jiae.”

Another soft laugh escapes your lips; the name is insignificant for you. The intoxication of the moment matters; him and you. But you still jest, “Didn’t need to connect a name to that memory.”

His chuckle matches yours, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, you know?”

And that’s all he breathes for the next hour. Genuine confessions, tender praises — your name.

So often that you soon forget any other in the world — beyond continents and oceans.

–

liked it? then let me know!! 😁 and if you haven't yet, feel free to read the full oneshot that this drabble's a "sequel" to, as well <3

[florence-end]

Could you do one with Rhys and where reader has a small fear of heights? Like he would totally tease her about her fear but also wants to help her get over it because well, her mate is half Illyrian and has wings but she does like to go flying with him.

Yessss, writing for Rhys is so much fun! This one is a bit silly lol

You felt the incessant tugging on the bond that told you Rhysand wanted you to go to him. You sighed deeply, rolled your eyes towards Mor who occupied the twin armchair to yours before the fire, and made your way out onto the balcony to find Rhys, Cassian and Azriel hovering a few feet away from the edge with their beautiful wings beating calmly.

“What are you boys up to?” You grumbled as you passed the threshold of the door.

“Hello darling. We are trying to finish our rematch but we need a referee as Cassian keeps halting play,” Rhys drawled accusingly towards his brother.

“Only because you two keep working together to make me lose, which is cheating!” exclaimed Cassian, throwing the ball at Azriel’s head only for his shadows to swoop up and catch it for him. “And Azriel keeps using his shadows!”

Your rolled your eyes once again. The three Illyrians had been playing this stupid ballgame for centuries, and it still caused endless arguments and rematches every time they played. The purpose of the game was to fly with the ball from one side of the house of wind to the other without losing the ball or dropping too much in altitude. The other two would try to stop the one with the ball, and once they lost possession, whoever took it would take his turn. Usually Amren acted as referee as she was the most impartial but she was hauled up in her apartment with Varian for the weekend and had made very detailed threats against anyone who might disturb them.

“I don’t even know the rules, how am I supposed to referee?” you directed your question to your mate as he landed on the balcony before you and put his arm around your shoulder to guide you closer to the railing.

“It’s easy, you just shout whenever two people team up against the other, or the person with the ball flies too low or too high. Here, I’ll perch you on the railing so you can see properly,” he offered, preparing to scoop you up.

“No! I-I mean I can see from here perfectly fine, I don’t need to be up there,” you protested, backing away from Rhys and raising a hand in front you to maintain some distance between you both.

Rhys frowned, not used to you flinching away from him for any reason. Cassian and Azriel flittered marginally closer as well in an instinctive response to the panic radiating from you.

“My love, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked.

“Nothing, I’ll just referee from here. It’s more sheltered from the wind,” you responded, trying to sound breezy and relaxed. You stepped back towards your mate and gave him a kiss on the cheek before ushering him towards his brothers, but he didn’t budge and continued frowning at you as though trying to solve a difficult puzzle. The silence was broken by Cassian’s sudden loud laugh.

“Don’t tell me the high lady of the night court is scared of heights,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Of course she’s not, she’s been flying with me lots of times,” Rhysand responded on your behalf before looking down at you for confirmation. You just looked sheepishly back at him. “Sweetheart you’re not scared of heights, are you?”

“I’m not scared, I just… prefer to be on the ground,” you defended yourself, much to Cassian and Azriel’s amusement.

“But all those times I took you flying?” Rhys was still looking utterly perplexed by your confession.

“You love it and I love you so I close my eyes and just focus on my breathing. It’s not so bad when you’re holding me but I would really rather not sit on the edge of a railing from which I might fall to my death,” you explained, hoping his feelings weren’t hurt.

“You know one of us would catch you before you’d even made it past the library window,” Azriel pointed out, having elbowed Cassian in an unsubtle hint to stop laughing.

“I know, I didn’t say it was a rational fear. I just don’t like heights,” you shrugged towards the shadowsinger. Unfortunately, while your attention was elsewhere, you missed the silent conversation happening between your mate and the General who was still hovering in midair.

“Please forgive me for this darling.” Before you could register what was happening, or even scream, Rhys had hoisted you into him arms and taken flight. Once there was nothing below you, he dipped you down slightly before launching you into the air. For a split second, there was nothing holding you. Just the chilly wind and the damp air caressed you as you seemed to float for a breath before beginning to plummet towards the earth. In one more half-moment, another set of warm tattooed arms snatched you out of the air and your wild eyes met the grinning face of Cassian.

You were too winded to speak and this time, you barely had time to panic when his arms disappeared from under you and dropped you into the waiting embrace of Azriel ten feet below. This time, you immediately wound your arms tightly round the Illyrian’s neck.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, your face red from the wind and your entire body shaking from adrenaline.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry! But you can’t be the mate of an Illyrian if you’re scared of heights!” Rhysand apologised, holding out his arms in an attempt to remove you from Azriel’s hold. But you kept your grip tight as you glared at him. “Look at you now though! Eyes open, still alive. Didn’t you enjoy the thrill, even a little bit?”

You took a second to consider what he’d said. You were thousands of feet in the air with only your trust in these three males to stop you from hurtling to your death, and yet you weren’t having a panic attack. You actually felt quite invigorated.

“Fine, maybe a little bit. But only because Azriel is carrying me,” you snarked at Rhys. He pouted jokingly as Azriel laughed quietly in your ear.

“You’d better come back to me my love, or else I’ll get jealous and who knows what I’ll do,” Rhys replied, sending a glimmer of taunting arousal through the bond to make you shiver.

You held you arms out towards your mate but he took just one of your hands and tugged you from Azriel’s grip just as the shadowsinger disappeared from under you. For a moment, Rhys allowed your toes to dangle high above the city as he held you with a firm but casual grasp of your hand. With little effort, he tugged you upward and swept you into his arms once more before returning you both to the balcony where he perched on the railing with you stood between his legs.

“Still scared?” he whispered in your ear, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

“No,” you murmured, standing on your tiptoes to ghost your lips against his. “But you’re insane if you think I’ll be your referee after that stunt.” In one quick move, you shoved your mate off the balcony and joined his brothers in delighted laughter at the squeak he let out before his wings began flapping enough to steady him in mid air.

Without another word, you flounced back into the living room to resume your glass of wine with Mor, vaguely aware of Cassian and Azriel scolding Rhys for ruining their chances of a fair game.

[clumsiestgiantess]

The size swap episode is here! While it does canonically happen in the main story, it’s only ever vaguely alluded to because it has zero plot relevance and never happens again (I just wanted them to experience how the other feels being tiny/giant)

Why isn’t this just an AU, you ask? Because I want the true characters to experience it >:)

(there’s a bit of spice in here as well; you know how the girlies are rn… they’ll be like that for a bit lol) [One day after the end of chapter 27, in Alexis’ living site near the mountains, both a normal-world inhabitant and an other-worldian wake up to begin their travels, only to find a strange new perspective…]

“Alexis!?”  I woke with a start, groaning in annoyance.  What was so important Erica had to wake me by yelling into my ear?  I was about to say something in protest, but I was startled into silence by my unfamiliar surroundings.  Cloth stretched on and on around me in every direction.  The only source of light filtered in beyond the strange material.  It was disorienting and almost frightening.  Where am I?  “Erica?” I called nervously into the empty air.  Now I could see why she’d woken me, but where was she?  I looked to the floor for her, and gasped in shock.  My clothes were gone.  Before I could even begin to puzzle out what happened, the entire room tilted to the side.  I cried out in fear as I slid down the surface of the cloth floor.  A moment later, light blinded me and I hit the ground unexpectedly hard.  The air was thrust from my lungs, and I sat up dizzily.

Daylight scorched my eyes.  I shut them quickly, but forced them back open at the sound of faraway rumbling.  What caused the rumbling was so awe-inspiring and frightening that I forgot to breathe.  Erica was standing what seemed like miles away from me; she stood almost as tall as a mountain, and she was putting on my clothes.  

That’s where I woke up, I realized, recognizing the color of the fabric I’d been lost in moments ago.  No wonder I was naked; my clothes were far too big for me now.  “I shrunk!” I whispered in wonder.  Judging by Erica’s new size and the fact that she had to steal my clothes, I could only assume Erica had grown.  We’ve switched heights!  How is this possible?  I spent so much time trying to shrink to her size, and now that I have, suddenly she’s the tall one?

“Alexis, where are-?” Erica stopped short as she noticed the height of the trees for the first time.  “What the hell?”  Even her confused whisper was loud to me.  As I took in her new height, I had a terrifying thought.  If Erica and I swapped sizes, she can finally get revenge on me for controlling her!  Seconds later, I forcefully shook my head.  No, she wouldn’t; she loves me; she wouldn’t hurt me for that anymore.  However, I tested if I still had the ability to control another person.  I did.

I flinched as Erica shifted to kneel down, carefully picking something up off the ground.  Though she was fairly far away, her movements still took up one half of my vision.  Am I really that terrifying when I’m that size?  I had to be.  

Staring in numb shock, I watched as Erica flinched backwards, immediately scanning the ground and the bottoms of her feet.  She let out a relieved sigh when she found nothing.  “Alexis, did we switch sizes?” Erica asked, sounding almost frightened.  Wow, her voice was so much louder than I’d heard before.  

“Please, say something!  Are you standing somewhere trying to get my attention?  I-  How am I so big?  This feels.. what’s the opposite of claustrophobic?”  She scanned the ground around her carefully before standing back up.  “This is awful!  Now I know why you panic so much when you can’t find me.”  Despite my slight fear of Erica’s new size, I called out to her.  Though it was still unnerving to see her this way, I didn’t want her to be worried about me.  

“Erica!  I’m over here!”  She froze mid-search.  “I’m over here!  Behind you, to the left of the trees!”  Her movements were so large and so fast that I instinctively gasped in fear.  My thoughts spiraled in a panic.  Why am I calling her over!?  I don’t even have clothes on!

The moment Erica spotted me, she sat up and raced over.  Each of her steps covered about thirty or so of mine.  “Alexis!” she cried out in relief, “Thank god!  I was so scared, I thought I’d crushed you!”  I yelped in terror as she swiftly snatched me off the ground.  Vertigo churned in my stomach as I was lifted a horrifying distance into the air.  Her fingers, each of which were longer than half my height, pressed painfully into my sides as she held me dangling in the open air.  

No!  She is going to hurt you! my mind screamed.  She can easily hurt you for everything you’ve done, and you.  Can’t.  Stop her.  “Ow! Ow!  You need to let me go, or else you’re going to break something!” I cried, “Erica please, don’t hurt me!  I’m sorry!  Please!”  Tears welled in my eyes as I was placed back down.  I wasn’t even sure if it was my abilities reacting to my fear that made her do that, or if she really intended to.  I fell to the ground as my knees gave out beneath me, trying my best to shield my completely exposed body from the rest of the world.

“Alexis?”  I glanced up to see giant fingers closing in on me.  A sob escaped my throat, and Erica’s grasp fell short.  She watched from somewhere above my vision as I curled up tighter.  “Alexis, it’s just me.  I-  I’m not going to hurt you...”  “You just did!” I cried out.  Erica was silent for a long moment.  “Hey,” she whispered comfortingly, “Look at me.”  I shook my head, buried between my arms.  “Please?  Just for a moment?”  I reluctantly gazed up at her, vision partially hindered by tears.  Erica had backed off slightly, looking me over with a pained expression.  It faded into a soft smile as my gaze connected with hers — eyes widening in wonder.

“I’m really sorry about grabbing you like that,” she admitted, “I guess I didn’t realize how easily I could hurt you.  It all makes a lot more sense why you’re always so hesitant to get close to me.”  I slowly unfurled myself, coming to stand as my nerves subsided.  “I know how it feels.  I’m probably terrifying to you right now.  But..  Alexis, you know I would never intentionally hurt you, right?”

I nodded, realizing that I’d very quickly jumped to conclusions earlier.  Erica wouldn’t use her newfound strength to get back at me for something I did four.. five years ago now.  Tentatively, Erica pulled herself closer, fingers carefully caressing my arm.  Shuddering at her warmth, I drew myself closer.  “I can’t believe it’s really you,” Erica whispered, “You’re so small.. and.. naked!” she she gasped, fingers quickly retracting from my side.  “Oh, sorry; I should’ve given these to you sooner!”  Erica shifted to take her own small clothes out of her pocket.  “I found these on the ground beneath me when I grew.  They’re kind of torn up, though.  I must’ve grown right out of them.”  Her clothes were split down one side; the only way I could wear them was wrapped around me like a towel, but it was better than being stark naked.

“Thanks,” I nodded to Erica, tying the slightly shredded items around myself.  “Oh, and sorry for taking your clothes,” she apologized.  “Yeah, you literally stole them right off of me.”  Erica looked me over intently, “What?  I did?”  “Yeah, I mean, you grew out of your clothes because they were too small, but I was trapped inside of mine!  I fell out when you picked them up.”  Erica looked slightly stricken after I told her this.  

“I didn’t even see you..”  She gasped, “What if I’d dropped you from all the way up here?  You could’ve been seriously hurt!  I could’ve killed you without even realizing it!"  Erica sat up a ways, looking down at herself in dismay.  "Alexis, how do you stand being like this all the time?”  I chuckled, “It certainly takes some getting used to.  And I’m sorry I accused you of trying to hurt me.  It’s just a little overwhelming, seeing you like this.”  She nodded, “That’s alright, I completely get it.  I’ve pretty much been in your exact situation. With you, actually.”  I sighed, collecting my thoughts.  

“Erica?”  "Yeah?"  "What if this is permanent?  What happens if we don't swap back?  Our whole plan…"  That was the extent of my thought — the rest frightened me too much to say aloud.

Erica stared out over me in thought.  "We'll just have to continue doing what we always do, I guess.  I can probably take out a hell of a lot more bad guys like this, that's for sure."  "Yeah, but.." I trailed off uneasily, "I-  I can't go home like this.  I'll never get to see my world or my family ever again."  I watched the subtle shift of Erica's hands reach slightly forwards, then pull back.  She wanted to comfort me, but had no idea how to do so without scaring or hurting me.  

"This can't be permanent," Erica stated, "At least I don't think so..  But even if it is, I'll always be here to take care of you.  Ivan's in the town too; he could help you get settled in if you end up staying here."  I nodded solemnly, eyes drifting downcast to the suddenly tall blades of grass at my feet.  Finally, Erica couldn't keep herself away any longer.  She slid me delicately into the palm of her hand and lifted me up to her eye level.  This time she made sure to go much slower.

Being lifted was such a strange sensation.  I could feel every little movement Erica made, even her pulse, bobbing just underneath her skin beneath me.  "I don't like this any more than you do," she assured me, “It’s...  Just thinking about anyone besides you seeing me like this makes my skin crawl.  I’m so big anyone can see me do anything, and everyone will be watching me!”

I blinked, never having given that much thought myself.  "How about we do something to get our minds off this, hmm?” Erica offered suddenly, “We'll take the day off; we won't even go into town.  If this keeps up tomorrow, then you and I can start worrying about long term stuff, alright?"  "Ok," I nodded a bit more enthusiastically.  "I was thinking of going for a walk, so I could see what the other-world looks like from your height.  The way it normally looks."  Erica nodded, "Sounds like a plan, then.  Should I put you down?"  "Yeah, I want to see things from a 'normal' height."  I used the term normal rather lightly.  Neither my giant height nor this one seemed very accurate.  I was so used to being big in the other-world that my smaller height just felt weird.  Slowly, I was brought back down to the ground.

I walked through the woods by myself first; taking everything in was strange enough without my used-to-be-tiny, now giant girlfriend pacing around.  After a while I began to get bored, however.  The woods were nice to see at a normal scale, but it really wasn't all that different from taking a walk in the woods at home.  

Home.  Would I ever really return there?  When Erica came to my world, she constantly had to hide from everyone, and she wasn’t able to do very much on her own.  I shook away my gloomy thoughts and headed back the direction I'd come.  Just listen to Erica.  Take a break today, figure it out tomorrow.  Hopefully this is some sort of weird fluke that'll fix itself soon.  

I'd been walking back for almost twenty minutes before I realized that I might have been walking in the wrong direction.  There was definitely not a stream on my way in.  I panicked for a moment, realizing that I was definitely lost, before I remembered who was with me.  "Erica!" I called, "If you can hear me, can you come over and get me?  I think I'm lost!"  There was silence, then I heard the slight tremor of Erica coming closer.  "Alexis, are you calling me?  God, your voice is so small.  Hold on, let me see if I can find you."  Oh boy, maybe I will have to find my way back on my own.  

Thankfully, a few minutes later I saw her form appear through the trees.  I didn't bother calling out to her for directions.  All I had to do was follow her.  Soon, I'd made it to the edge of the woods and flagged her down.  Erica was so excited to see me, she very nearly snatched me up, but she held back at the last second when she saw me flinch.  "Sorry, sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you."  "It's alright," I reassured her, "I was thinking we could finish my walk together?  After lunch though, because I'm starving."  "Good idea."

Thanks to Erica's 'ignore your problems until later' plan, I actually forgot to worry about things for a while.  We talked over lunch just like any other day, then we continued on my walk — not that I was doing any of the walking anymore.  I'd tried to trek alongside Erica, but her strides were just way too big for me to catch up with.  Walking next to her was like walking next to a moving skyscraper; the scale of having to crane my neck vertically up to see her made my stomach churn uncomfortably, so I ended up sitting on her hand the whole time.  Erica had offered me a place on her shoulder, but I quickly declined.  Shoulder rides are her thing.  I would only be more anxious if she placed me there.  Unlike Erica, I actually fear the prospect of falling to my death.

I clung to her pointer finger, wanting to watch the view but also terrified I’d slip off her hand.  There was an almost alarmingly fast pulse beating through it, and when I glanced up I saw Erica quickly look away from me with a flushed face.  Even when I pretended to ignore her obvious fascination with my new size, I nearly got scared straight off the edge of her hand as two fingers fell over me from behind.  Erica pet me with what she must’ve thought were gentle strokes, but really felt like she was squishing me down.  I knew she meant well, though, so I let her.

Our walk was longer than I expected thanks to Erica getting lost.  She confessed she hadn’t really been watching where she was going, and I confessed I knew she’d been watching me instead.  I didn’t mind the length of it.  In fact, it gave me a chance to get more used to the height I was held at.  It also gave me more time to chat with the love of my life.  She was just as nervous as I was, but we were together, so panicking took second place priority over calming eachother down.

Between a dinner lit by bonfire, and all the otherwise normal activities that took place, my day off had been very successful — since we started heading back, I hadn’t worried about my new height once.  

Erica lay in my field, watching the sunset while I sat by the fire.  It died soon after, leaving me with no source of heat while the night grew ever colder.  Erica must've seen me shivering on my own, because she sat up and leaned over me.  "You look cold," she stated.  "My fire died," I responded in a deadpan voice.  "Doesn't mean you have to be cold."  Tilting my head back, I gazed up at Erica.  She had that excited look in her eyes she always gets when an idea sticks in her head.  

"Ok," I sighed, "Pick me up.  I know you want to."  Her digits suddenly laced around me, lifting me upwards as she settled herself back down.  Once she was laying comfortably with my pillows, she placed me on her chest in the same spot I've always placed her.

It was mesmerizing, taking in Erica's larger than life form.  She was everywhere on every side of me — even the very ground beneath me.  Normally, that would be enough to easily frighten anyone.  But not me, not with her.  I carefully made my way to her face as she sat up just slightly so her eye level was even with mine.  She was so big to me that I could see her actual pupils grow a bit wider with each step I took.

"I've never been able to see you like this,” I realized, “You're always so small."  Erica shuddered, jostling me slightly, but I kept my balance.  Everything about her was so intricate and gigantic.  It was almost impossible for me to believe her and the tiny woman I could barely tell the eye color of were one and the same.  

Tentatively, I reached out and brushed a few fingers over her scar.  I'd only done this once before at my normal height.  I was always too scared I might hurt her further, being so big.  Now I could get close and not have to worry about anything.  It was amazing.  I kept going, brushing my hand further along her chin and down to her lips, watching as her eyes widened in awe.  

"It's so weird, tracing your features as big as this," I admitted, "I'm almost convinced this is a dream."  "Same here," Erica whispered.  "If you'll let me, I.. I'd like to trace you too."

A part of me wanted to say no, to deny her simply because one false move could lead to my injury, or worse.  However, I couldn't resist.  "You can," I answered.  Erica tediously edged her hands closer to me, fingers brushing up against my skin.  She softly pinched one of my arms between them, staring in amazement at how miniscule the limb seemed in her grasp.  Her touch gilded delicately up to my jaw, then, with the pad of a single finger, my cheek.  It was all so overwhelming, but in a good way.  This seemed to have a similar effect on Erica, who was stunned speechless.

"You're beautiful," she finally whispered in adoration.  "So are you."  Stepping closer, I leaned in and kissed her lip.  I could only kiss one of them, that's how big she was.  Erica pulled me in, both her lips sliding over my whole face as she returned my tiny piece of affection.  The feeling was indescribable and immensely overwhelming.  Now I understand why she keeps insisting she enjoys this despite how big I am.

Finally, I had to pull away to catch my breath, and the moment I did, Erica went back for more.  After a few strong kisses, her lips brushed up against the ties on my torn clothing.  They slid off me in one flourish.  I lay blissfully in Erica's hands as she kissed my bare body.  Her tongue slid over my torso and I groaned with pleasure, only prompting her to kiss me harder.  As with so many of my experiences that day, I could finally see Erica's side of things.  No wonder she pleaded with me to keep going after I'd nervously called off our first makeout session.  

At some point her tongue slid into my mouth.  I whined softly, opening my jaw to let her kiss me and fill it.  It was nirvana until I heard a crack and felt a spark of pain in my jaw.  I tried moving away, but Erica held me from behind, and again her tongue pressed into my mouth — nearly forcing its way down my throat.  Gagging and choking, I was finally released with a jolt.  “Alexis!  Are you ok?”  I took a few deep breaths and felt my jaw as I opened and closed it a few times.  “Y- Yeah, I think my jaw just cracked and I got scared.”  “I’ll just stick to your body, then?” Erica asked, tentatively giving my stomach a soft kiss. I exhaled in bliss, “Yeah.”

After the ecstasy of the moment died off at last, I curled up under Erica's chin, warmly tucked between it and her throat.  I barely noticed my lack of clothing with how warm she was.  We lay together like that for a long time — both tired, but neither of us ready to sleep.  Finally, I wiggled my way back onto her chest and put back on the torn clothes.  Erica grumbled sleepily, some of her warmth stolen.  "Where are you going?" she asked me quietly.  "I can't sleep on you.  What if our sizes come back?  I would crush you."  "Oh."  I knew she'd be more than a little disappointed, but I didn't want to risk it.  Erica gave me her blanket to sleep on, which was really mine to begin with.  "Goodnight Alexis."  "Goodnight," I answered sleepily.

In the morning I was rudely awoken by the freezing cold winds that swept across the field.  My clothes were gone again, but that didn't bother me in the slightest.  I grew back!  Whatever weirdness that happened yesterday is gone now.  I wrapped my blanket around me and turned to where Erica had been sleeping.  Sure enough, my clothes lay splayed out in the field once more.  A small bump in the middle of my shirt shifted slightly in sleep.  I decided to wait until Erica woke up to reclaim my clothes, and sat with my blanket, gazing off to nowhere in particular, when I was startled by a tinny gasp.  

"Alexis!  Alexis, I shrunk back!  I'm my own height!"  I smiled warmly, gently pulling away the top part of my shirt to reveal her normal-sized form.  "You grew back too!" she exclaimed happily.  "I did!  Now I can finally have my clothes back."

Erica looked down at herself then back up at me.  "Damn, now I'm the one who's stuck with the rags."  I laughed and handed her clothes to her before slipping into mine.  Unfortunately, Erica's clothes were far beyond wearable now.  They'd been through not one, but two giant growth spurts, and were basically just shreds of cloth.  "N- Now what?" Erica asked, shivering in the morning cold.  "I c- can't wear this!"  "What was it you told me last night?" I asked wryly, "Oh yeah.  That doesn't mean you have to be cold."  I held out my hands and Erica braced the wind for a few freezing steps before snuggling into my palms.  

Back to the wind, protected by both my clothes and my blanket, I cupped Erica gently between my hands.  Every once and a while, I'd blow on them to keep them warm.  Inside, Erica dragged a few of my fingers closer.  I instinctively flinched as I touched her, remembering how it felt to me when she was the one doing the holding.  Yet, she persisted on pulling me in until she was pressed on all sides by warm skin.

One of my fingers just so happened to be in the right spot for a bit of flustering.  Normally I would ignore this, maybe even move myself away.  However, I was in a rather good mood thanks to my newly restored height, so I took the bait.  Nudging my finger a bit deeper into the small space where Erica sat, I smiled at the small, almost inaudible gasp that came from within my hands.  "Wh- What are you doing?" she asked, voice all high-pitched in embarrassment.  "Oh, just warming you up," I replied innocently, pressing a little further.  "Alexis," she giggled, "I'm the only one who does the flustering around here, missy.  Just you wai-"  

Her taunts were cut off by a gasp as I rubbed her breasts beneath the pad of my finger.  I felt her squirm in my hands again as I laughed.  "I'm sorry?  What was that last part?"  "You-  mmnn..  Alexis-  nnngg..  it's too early!" Erica complained between little moans of ecstasy as I continued along down her stomach.  I let my finger trail off just above her hips, before slowly opening my hands back up.

Fixing her tousled hair, Erica flipped me the bird while I chuckled in delight.  "I hate you," she said lovingly as I brought the blanket to the front of me and placed her down inside.  "I should've done more with you last night.  I had the perfect opportunity to show you the euphoria I feel when you do that to me, and I missed it."  "Not entirely," I replied, softly tracing her form the way she had last night.  Erica smiled, "Yeah, I guess it wasn't a total waste after all."