#why did it take me so long to notice this?

[seeliemansi]

Mr. Crawling hated Bath Time and Showers

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, hint of SMUT, ghost revenge. It's not that bad.

my first post was flagged. dunno if it was reported but seriously?

🧼

No thoughts but forcing Mr. Crawling to take a shower. He has been crawling around since you met him and you have noticed his dirty and tattered clothes. There wasn't a problem when you two were still in that old abandoned building. But in your apartment? Being unclean is a no go. Just like a dog who hates baths, Mr. Crawling hated the idea to the point that he refused to go out of your closet. He had been repeating the same words as you try to pry the doors open.

"You not love me?" "Why bath?" "Not love me that's why bath?" "I like you but you not like me."

You admit it was kind of adorable. It was the same when he panicked when asked if he wanted his hair to be cut short.

You are getting out of nowhere and so with a promise, you told him that he can ask you of anything if he takes a shower. Just like offering a dog a treat during training. It took a lot of reassurance, but in the end, he allowed himself to bathe. If it was that easy.

And just like a vengeful dog that shakes its fur, to spray the excess water on its owner - Mr Crawling did the same.

He flinches, and he jerks, splashing water all over your already small bathroom. And ultimately drenched you, when he strongly pulled you down with him after he freaked out when the hot water turned cold because he was taking too long. You have no choice but to take a shower as well or you'll get a cold.

You can't help the tick of annoyance when he sighs in content as you help dry his hair. His head is on your lap, and he seems refreshed and peaceful. If he wasn't so cute, you will probably get back at him. But he looks so clean, comfortable, and glowing with happiness.

Maybe next time.

Showers always make you feel drowsy. You blink slowly and feel relaxed as he looks up with a wide grin. You can't help but give him a peck on the lips and kiss on his forehead. Such a good boy.

You chuckle when you hear his infamous giggle. You were about to continue drying his hair when he quickly moved, grabbed your shoulders and forcefully pushed you down the couch.

"Done! Me treat!" He declared.

"What?"

He didn't even give you enough time to think when he suddenly held both of your legs and pulled you closer to him. You remind yourself to apologize to the neighbors if they complain about the noise.

He didn't even give you enough time to raise yourself using your elbow, when he raised both your legs up, put it on his shoulder, and giggled as he was face to face with your clothed core. You can feel his hot breath and you gasped when he sniffed you down there. His giggles reverberate as he teases you with an experimental lick.

"Shower here too. Wet."

Is all you remember him say as you felt a full blown shiver of want from your head to your toes. It will be a long night for sure.

He may be cute but Mr. Crawling can be extremely vengeful because you had a hard time walking the next day. He made sure that it wasn't only him who would crawl around. And weirdly enough, after that, he was the one who reminded you that he needed a shower.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ꕥ MAX VERSTAPPEN

summary. celebrating max’s 4th title was not in your plans.

warnings. piastri!reader, max is kinda obsessed with reader, public s3x (?), unprotected pinv, fingering, just straight up dirty.

gabri speaks! i’ve been thinking about mexico gp max and las vegas sealed the deal for me.

THERE’S A BRIEF moment of silence, of anticipation, and of complete confusion. The DJ had paused the setlist less than an hour in announcing there was a special guest appearance. Then as if on cue tonight’s race is plastered on the giant screen behind him and the words, “Max Verstappen,” echo throughout the nightclub. You resist the urge to roll your eyes knowing someone might be recording you, or your brother at least.

“I thought he was flying back?” You cover your mouth with your hand as you talk with your brother.

“I thought so too.” Your brother hums in your ear trying to hide his annoyed tone. Your brother got along with Max just fine but all he wanted was one night without F1 getting mentioned.

You on the other hand…

You’d only been in the paddock a handful of times but every race weekend you had managed to have the worst encounter with the dutch man. The first time had been incidentally, you faintly recall the energy drink splashing all over your new dress. You knew from the get go that it had been an accident but when Max didn’t as so much as a muster a quick sorry and instead went on his way you had no choice but to hate him.

“He’s such a dick.” You murmur to yourself unaware your brother catches your words.

“Be nice.” Oscar motions towards the countless people recording him.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You sigh.

The music resumes and you find yourself into a crowd of dancing couples. Your short orange dress sticks to you as you walk towards the bar. It’d been a long night with your brother not getting the result he hoped for. The post race recap inside the garage had been brutal as well. You had watched as the championship slipped from Lando’s hands and Max claimed victory once again. It had been the worst two hours of your life to say the least. You’re way too frustrated to even notice the man approaching you. In a split second you’re covered in something that smelled similar to…

“Asshole.” You mumble.

“Mini Piastri?” He gasps dramatically. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think you’d be celebrating after tonight.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You scoff. “Does it Max?”

“I’d argue that it does actually. Considering your mood, you’d be happier if your little boyfriend had actually managed to have a good race.” He taunts you.

“Look, can you get out of my way? I have to go clean up the mess you made.” You point towards the huge spots of alcohol on your dress.

You don’t even wait for him to respond before pushing past him, brushing shoulders in the process, to head straight to the bathroom. You do your best to dodge those who already have had a bit too much to drink, unaware that the dutchman is right behind you. It’s not until you’re opening the door and notice it takes a minute too long to close that you turn around and spot him. His white dress shirt is already half unbuttoned while his hair is a mess. You stare at him incredulously as he leaned against the sink.

“Max, you can’t be in here.” You state bluntly.

“I don’t recall you telling Lando to piss off when he followed you into the bathroom in Austin.” He counters.

“How do- What?” You’re taken aback by his words. How did he know?

He ignores your question choosing to walk towards you instead. You’re now face to face with the man that had taken away your team’s championship. His eye bags are dark and you can tell it’s been a while since he’s gotten a good needed break. His tousled hair falls perfectly on his head and by the way his arms flex you can tell he’s been putting extra effort into them at the gym. All of a sudden you’re nervous to be under his glare.

“Does your brother know what you and Lando do in secret?” He questions.

“You should leave.” You try to sound confident but your faltering voice exposes you.

Max just smirks at your words knowing he was getting under your skin. He still recalls the first time he ran into you, when he spilled half a can of red bull on you. He doesn’t know why he didn’t apologize but when he saw the anger in your face he realized why. You had looked so beautiful that day with the short orange sundress that did nothing to hide your cleavage. He still remembers the disappointment he felt when he saw you and Lando walk out of the restroom all disheveled. So, when he beat Lando tonight he felt absolutely no remorse.

His lips ghost yours for what feels like an eternity. You’re frozen in place wondering how his lips would taste against yours. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way his arms flex around you but suddenly you needed to know what he felt like. His arm tentatively grazes yours as it sneaks down to your knees. A gasp finds itself leaving your lips as your legs spread open instinctively. He wants to make fun of you, of the way you melt under him so easily, but he knows better. He can’t risk ruining the moment. It’s when Max inches his fingers closer to your thighs that you suddenly realize what’s happening. In a matter of seconds you push him off you and head out the door.

You’re barely four steps out when Max yanks you back and you hit his built chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate and grabs your jaw pulling your face towards his. Your lips meet in a heated kiss as his arms find their way around your waist. This time you’re the one that moves his hands from your wait to your ass. The confidence was beginning to build up and soon enough you’re tugging on his hair as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Max…” You moan and somehow it becomes the indicator that you want this. That you want him.

He pushes you flat against the cold brick of the hallway, the dimmed lights helping hide your bodies from the crowd. You’re lucky he holds you up because your legs feel like jello and if he lets go you might lose your balance. His hands roam your waist, back, and neck before he moves your hair out of the way. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses around your neck as his hands work their way down to your legs. They slowly glide up until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress. You can already feel his growing erection press against your ass.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans against your ear.

You really want to tell him to fuck off but your body reacts differently. You’re shocked when instead of telling him to call it a night all you murmur is keep going. In a matter of seconds your dress is being pulled up towards your waist. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he rubs your aching core through your panties.

“So wet already.” He groans. “For me or Lando?”

“Shut up.” You still find it in you to annoy him.

To your surprise he doesn’t hit you with another remark. Max had been an asshole to you long enough. Now, that you were in front of him practically falling apart he didn’t want to ruin the moment. There’s a brief moment of silence before his hand carefully moves your panties to the side exposing your core to the cool breeze. Your legs spread instinctively as his fingers tempt your folds. His fingers collect your slick as he explores you, the wet sound making him groan against you. Slowly, he brings one of his fingers to your hole entering it carefully.

“Fuck.” He moans against your ear as your cunt wraps tightly around his finger.

“Ma- Max. So close.” You’re barely able to say.

You let out a loud whine as he curls his finger inside of you leading to your climax. You come around his fingers as you coat them with your wetness. His fingers slowly move toward your mouth and you don’t hesitate as you take them into your mouth, tasting yourself. He almost comes undone as you lick his fingers seductively. Aggressively he grabs your jaw and kisses you. He groans as he tastes you.

You feel the tip of him first as he runs it up and down your folds teasing you. Your hands are weak against the wall as his tip approaches your aching hole. He enters you slowly, holding you tightly in the process. He stops halfway through not wanting to hurt you but when he hears your dirty moans he continues. Your nails dig tightly into his arms as he fills you up completely. He’s quite big and the new sensation has you spiraling trying your best to not fall against him. He takes advantage of your weakness and attacks your neck again making sure to leave love bites around your collarbone.

“Fuck, Max. You’re so big.” You whine without thinking.

You feel his dick twitch inside you at that. Your voice has him in a trance as he tries his best to not just start thrusting inside of you. It’s not until you start pushing your ass against him that he almost pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. His hands grip your ass tightly—surely leaving marks for tomorrow—as your cunt squeezes him. He’s never felt such a thrill, at least since Abu Dhabi, you were your own feeling. He couldn’t believe you had finally opened up to him in many ways you were way better than winning another trophy. Many curses escape your lips as he finds the perfect pace inside of you.

He manages to bend you over leading to the perfect position and somehow he’s even deeper inside of you. He grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he speeds up inside of you. His hand trails back to your cunt and slowly he starts playing with your folds. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your folds is intense and you find a camisole feeling in your stomach approach you. You squeeze him tightly as his dick hits the right spot and you find yourself coming undone. You’ve never had an orgasm so intense in your life you don’t even notice how you coat his dick with your wetness.

Max isn’t far behind and speeds up at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly. Your nails dig behind you at the overstimulation and stretch of his cock. Max hisses at the sensation finding it the tipping point. It’s not long before you feel his dick twitch inside of you and in a matter of seconds you feel him spill his seed inside of you. He grunts as he empties himself and as he pulls out. He pulls you up adjusting your dress in the process.

You bite your lip as he zips up his pants. The aftermath of your little rendezvous is different. Usually with others you don’t stay long enough to watch them dress themselves. But then you notice Max struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt and you find your hands on his chest again. You only button half of the shirt before stepping back. Neither of you say a word but the silence manages to speak for you both. You decide it’s time to go back but before you can take a step Max pulls you in for a final kiss before he leaves.

You’re barely able to walk back towards the VIP lounge and stumble multiple times in the process. You try your best to brush your hair down and fix your dress as you come closer to your brother’s booth. You sit down carefully unaware your brother is staring at you wide eyed and wondering why it took you almost an hour to get a drink. You shift awkwardly in your seat as Lily begins telling you both about her mixup at the airport. You turn around briefly as she goes into detail when you notice Max walking past your table. You keep your composure not wanting to expose your actions of the night but you should’ve known better. Oscar almost bursts out laughing at Max’s completely unbuttoned shirt.

“Lando’s gonna be pissed.” Your brother smirks.

“How do-” Did everyone know? “Oh, fuck off.”

The night progresses with your brother ordering countless bottles of Dom Pérignon. It’s almost five in the morning when Max takes the stage again with the DJ playing a remix of Super Max. As if on cue someone hands him a bottle of champagne and it doesn’t take long for him to start spraying it amongst those on the dance floor. You watch attentively as his chest shows the marks you left completely unaware of how your phone buzzes for the hundredth time that night.

9 missed calls from Lan

Lan: Tonight was shit.

Lan: Come over?

[flwrstqr]

੭୧ ENHYPEN WHEN THEY MEET THEIR LONG DISTANCE S/O ──𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒

( ✶ 𝓢. ) ⦂ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ! r 1OOOwc. ── kissing, skinship && long distance relationship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀fluff, est relationship 𖥔 ARCHiVE ⠀ ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა

danielle msgs： why is making layouts so tedious but fun ㅠㅠ

LEE HEESEUNG— he stands there, barely a breath away, his eyes flickering between yours like he's still trying to convince himself this is real. “baby, you’re even prettier in person,” he says softly, a grin tugging at his lips as his arms pull you into a hug so tight that you’re sure he’s trying to memorize the way you fit against him. “missed you so much,” he mumbles into your hair. when he pulls back just enough to cup your face, his thumb brushes over your cheek, and he’s already leaning in, his lips brushing yours with a teasing, “mind if i kiss you, sweetheart?” you roll your eyes, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to tug him closer. “heeseung, just shut up and do it,” you whisper, as he leans in for a sweet kiss.

PARK JAY— the moment you step into view, jay’s already striding over, his grin so wide it makes your knees weak. “there’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling you into a hug that smells like his cologne and feels like home. his hands settle naturally on your waist as he looks you over. “you’re even more gorgeous than i imagined, princess,” he teases, his thumb grazing your hip as he guides you toward his car. “let me,” he insists when you reach the passenger side, one hand steadying your waist while the other opens the door. once you’re seated, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your lips, slow and deliberate. “you good, love?” he asks, as he brushes a stray hair from your face before shutting the door. you’re still catching your breath as he slides into the driver’s seat, glancing over with a soft smirk. “ready to be spoiled?”

SIM JAKE— the moment you step into jake's apartment, your suitcase still in hand, he’s already pulling you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “you’re really here,” he whispers, his voice soft and filled with awe, burying his face in your neck. you laugh, your hands threading through his hair. “of course i am, you didn’t think i’d chicken out, did you?” he pulls back just enough to look at you. “nah, i just can’t believe i get to have my baby here with me,” he says, his fingers brushing your cheek as his eyes flicker to your lips. you roll your eyes at his teasing, but he cuts you off with a quick kiss. “welcome home, love,” he murmurs, holding you close again.

PARK SUNGHOON— sunghoon opens the door, his usual cool demeanor in place as his eyes scan over you for a second, not even realizing it’s you. “hi, can i help you?” he asks politely, his brows furrowing slightly. you stand there, trying not to laugh as you set your bag down. “hoon, it’s me,” you say softly, and the way his jaw drops. “wait… no way,” he breathes, stepping closer, his eyes wide as he finally takes in every detail. “baby? oh my god, you’re even prettier than your photos, i didn’t even recognize you.” he immediately pulls you into a hug as he buries his face in your shoulder. “you’ve been hiding this level of gorgeous from me?” he teases, pulling back just enough to cup your face. “i can’t believe you’re actually here,” he whispers, brushing his lips against yours in the kiss.

KIM SUNOO— you spot him in the crowd before he notices you, your heart racing as you take in his familiar smile now right in front of you instead of through a screen. when his eyes finally land on you, they light up like the stars, and he’s rushing over, dropping his bag just to pull you into a tight hug. “baby, you’re real,” sunoo breathes, his voice soft and filled with awe as his hands frame your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “of course i’m real,” you laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch and the way his gaze holds yours. he leans closer, resting his forehead against yours. his fingers intertwine with yours, and he grins. “now you’re stuck with me. i’m never letting you go.”

YANG JUNGWON— the airport doors slide open, and there he is—jungwon, your jungwon, looking just like the dream you've replayed in your mind a hundred times. the second his eyes find you, he drops his bag and practically runs, arms wide open. "ANGEL!" he calls, voice cracking slightly, but he doesn’t care. before you can process it, you're wrapped up in him, his hands cradling your face. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then finally, your lips—like he’s savoring every second. he pulls back just enough to whisper, "you made me fall in love with you all over again." his thumb brushes your cheek. "how do you do that, huh? make me this crazy about you?" his forehead rests against yours, and you swear you’ve never felt more at home.

NISHIMURA RIKI— when riki finally spots you in the airport crowd, he’s all boyish smirks and playful energy, but his eyes are so soft it makes your heart stutter. "took you long enough," he teases, holding you by the waist. you swat his arm. when you go on your tippy toes to kiss him, he leans back just to make you work for it. "riki!" you whine, grabbing his collar to yank him closer, and he finally gives in, letting your lips meet his in a sweet, lingering kiss. “happy now, princess?” he grins against your lips, his hands still on your waist. you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. “i hate you.” he chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “love you too, princess.”

[fushiguho]

Curiosity & the Poor, Unfortunate Cat ⭑.ᐟ

ᯓ★ Synopsis Toji Fushiguho — an absent father, a college dropout, and a panhandling loiterer who just so happens to be your father’s best friend. Obviously you have to fuck him... out of pity, of course.

Wordcount 4k

Warnings fem!reader, age gap, toji is kind of disrespectful but so are you, so much teasing it’s insane, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), rough sex, unprotected, spanking, abrupt ending, brat taming??

Author's Notes this was inspired by an anon request for toji as your father’s best friend which was so freaking fun to write (everyone say thank yew anonnnn) and this was supposed to be a drabble but i know no limits... i was also channeling a lot of my own desires here #needthat p.s. this blog is under construction, i’m in the midst of transferring my work from my previous account which was marked as explicit boooo :/

Your sheets ruffle as you discontentedly toss in bed, the silken fabric bunching haphazardly while you writhe, empty stomach caving in a ravenous hunger. Internally, you curse yourself, wishing you had eaten the dinner your father prepared earlier, but now, it’s definitely too late. You’re sure Toji has already scarfed whatever was left of it down into that perpetually endless gut of his. You’ve never stood a chance. Alas, you must eat, so with a groan of annoyance, you roll out of bed, padding to the kitchen on the hunt for satiation.

It’s the dead of night. The sacred time of day when nothing is expected of you. When everyone you have ever known is fast asleep and you’re all that remains. Darkness consumes the lifeless house as you shuffle across the carpeted floor. A night light that’s tucked at the end of the long hall flickers like a dwindling torch in the depths of a dark, endless forest. As you creep down the steep staircase, you sigh, taking notice of overhead microwave light already casting a soft, amber glow — there is someone else that too remains.

Toji.

“You can’t keep eating all of our food.” You huff, abruptly announcing your presence as you near the final step, observing the burly, sable haired man that raids your barren fridge. “I don’t even know why my father puts up with you.”

He smells your sweet, gourmand perfume before he even registers your voice. It’s utterly embarrassing how painfully his cock aches from a mere whiff of you, the sound of you. Unabashed, Toji shrugs, stuffing three, large strawberries into his greedy mouth, eyes narrowing on your pretty frame. “Your father loves me, sweetheart… couldn’t have raised your bratty ass without me.” His ravenous gaze lingers far too long, sharp eyes shamelessly flitting across your soft, exposed skin, sizing you up. “And hello to you too. What’s wrong with you young people? Does no one respect their elders anymore?”

“Oh, brother, here we go.” You grumble, bracing yourself for yet another fruitless lecture, arms crossing over your chest as you sit into your right hip. His keen eyes follow your subtle shift in stance. “And your son? Where is he?”

He scoffs. “With his mother, thank you.” Toji rolls his eyes, reaching for another strawberry. “You sure you don’t have homework to do or something? Always pesterin’ me. I’m old, damnit!”

“I graduated three years ago, thank you… though you can’t say the same,” you snide, rudely pushing past him to peer into the refrigerator, “and you're like forty-five… you should've gotten your shit together yesterday.” You add, growing progressively annoyed with his lingering presence. “Did you drink all of the milk again?”

“Heh, oh yeah. Whoops,” he goads, popping the p, “and I’m not that old, you brat.” He mumbles, esteem crumbling at your assumption.

He’s grown accustomed to your biting criticism, though in the beginning, he would almost always quarrel back, which inevitably led to the two of you in a needlessly heated and borderline flirtatious feud. Now, he’s learned to actively ignore your insults but god, he would only be lying if he said your petty, condescending remarks didn’t rewire the chemistry of his brain.

Alas, all he offers is another irritatingly indifferent shrug, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his scarred lips — his own twisted version of remittance. Toji doesn’t give a fuck, not one. He knows your father will replace it by the end of the week like he always does, so why should he?

It has been nearly a decade since your father has all too graciously granted Toji loitering rights to your childhood home. Never has he paid for groceries, for bills, for anything. He is penniless, indolent, and baselessly forthright, but god, is he the finest man you have ever known.

After both your father and Toji’s untimely and coincidentally synchronized divorces, the two have been inseparable ever since, wallowing in their shared pity together. During his unnecessarily messy divorce, Toji lost the house and your father was gracious enough to offer him a place to stay until he secures a stable job.

That was nine years ago.

Weirdly enough, Toji has known you the entirety of your existence, but not you his. From as early as you can remember, he was always just… there, but as time passed and you grew older, things changed; the way you thought about him changed. Before, you thought of him as just one of your father’s degenerate friends from undergrad who fell through the cracks. Today, that notion still holds, but now you want to fuck him, bad.

For years, you’ve imagined what Toji is like behind closed doors, what he would feel like, what he would fuck like. If he’s the type of man that plays with his food before eating it, if he even likes to eat his prey anyway. Maybe he’s the type of predator that prefers stringing his meals along, toying with and teasing them like some cruel, one-sided game and he’s got the unfair advantage. Either way, you don’t think you’d mind.

Countless nights you’ve found yourself sprawled apart with his name on the tip of your tongue. Bare, perspiring body bowing as you brainlessly fuck yourself against one of his sweatshirts that you snagged from the laundry he doesn’t do. There is no doubt that Toji has heard the desperate cries of his name that pour from beneath your paper thin door, your pretty whimpers so incredibly loud and slutty and all for him.

If he wanted, you’d let him have in the worst possible way. You would let him pry you apart and gut you out completely, leaving you nothing but a shell of your former self — drooling, stuffed, and defiled. The utter heinous things you’d commit for a mere taste of his skin is a direct contradiction of who you are and everything your father believes he’s raised you to be. You’re no angel.

Defeated, you close the refrigerator, a deep, irritated sigh dragging from your lips. This man is useless, you think. If not for his maddeningly beautiful face, you’d sock him in it, sending him tumbling to the floor so that you can finally mount him and —

“Do you wanna fuck? Is that it?”

A long, deafening beat passes. You swallow thickly. “… what?”

“You heard me. I asked if you want to fuck.” He reiterates, voice eerily calm as if he couldn’t care less about the proposition at hand. “You’re always so pissed with me, thinkin’ that’s maybe what you need... a good fuck, heh.”

His blatantly unprovoked inquiry is jostling you back into reality, because what? What the hell is wrong with him? Why did the question roll off of his tongue so quickly? So smoothly? As if it’s no big deal, as if this is just another one of his usual, overly prying questions. Is he serious?

“Toji, wha—”

“You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” His head is falling to the right, a sleazy grin marring his slick lips. “You don’t think I see the way you look at me, sweetheart? Not a very discreet girl, I’ll tell you that…” a dark, gut wrenching chuckle rumbles from the depths of his chest, “maybe a noisy one though, hm?” He hums, quirking an omniscient brow.

Guiltily, your gaze is falling to the tiled floor, thighs pressing together as you mumble. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Sure.

He laughs again. “You’re not a good liar either,” he’s creeping closer, the warmth of his breath like kindle to a rampant flame, “but you’re a pretty little thing… you know that already though, huh?” A curious hand is creeping around your waist, slyly reeling you in, the redolence of his cheap, inebriating cologne permeating the sinisterly thick air.

You expel an audible breath, taking a cautious step backward, yet he follows, taking a larger step forward, a step closer. Your skin burns, cheeks warming with crimson. He’s too fucking close and he knows it. What if someone sees? You don’t think you can bear the consequences that’d unfold if your father were to ever find the two of you like this. He would kill Toji, then you, and finally himself for good measure.

But god, do you want to find out. When it comes to human nature, curiosity always seems to prevail and fuck, are you one curious cat. There is something innately deep and pressing within your soul that craves satiation. It yearns to be known, to be explored. A deep, perpetually endless hole that aches — it longs to be filled, to be stuffed. None of your peers can do that for you, you’re convinced.

Your dark, repressed desires are only concerning your stance on feminism, but you don’t care, that’s the very thing. You want to find out. You need that, undoubtedly. Is what they say about older men true? The thought lingers as you contemplate the looming proposition. Yes, he’s your father’s closest friend. Yes, he’s far older than you with a child of his own. And yes, your perpetual obsession is only growing increasingly worrisome by the ticking clock, but truly, who can blame you? Look at him.

“C’monnn, you won’t even look at me, doll?” He frowns, a big hand cupping your chin, pulling your gaze upward. “Thought your father and I taught you better than that, no?”

Another loud, incredulous breath escapes your parted lips. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, cunt drooling.

Just the sweet, innocent quaver of your voice alone makes his cock twitch. His plaid pajama bottoms growing near uncomfortable as the fat, mushroom head leaks against the dampening fabric. What’s left of his dwindling resolve is slipping from his fingertips when you’re finally peering up at him, the coy bat of your lashes so perfectly slutty. Pretty, pleading eyes all wide and glossed over with your evident lust. God, he knows you need it.

Toji groans, conflicted for half a beat before growling a strangled and defeated, ‘fuck it’ then, his lips are slotting against yours in a delirious, haphazard kiss. Large hands blindly creep around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer. “This… this is your fucking fault.” He grouses, warm tongue delving so shamelessly inside of your honeyed mouth, greedily licking his way to the source.

“Fuck me then,” you’re pulling away just barely and he can’t help but to follow, subconsciously chasing your fleeting lips, “make me sorry.” It’s quiet, breathless, your pretty lips ghosting his.

And maybe you shouldn’t have said that, but it’s still not too late to end this — to push him away and say no, this isn’t right. It’s not too late to head to bed and forget any of this ever happened, but the way he’s twirling you around to push you over the marble countertop might be a step too far and damn sure too late.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be so fucking sorry,” a singular hand is peeling your lounge shorts down, down, down your plush thighs until there’s nothing but a pool of silky fabric surrounding your ankles, baring your syrupy folds, “spread those fuckin’ legs for me like a good, obedient girl. Let me see how wet that sloppy pussy is.”

With your face snug against the marble, all you can manage is a weak, fruitless gasp of his name, the warmth of your frantic breaths condensing the frigid countertop. You’re craning your head to the side, rising to the palms of your hands to observe the burly man that looms behind you. Fuck, he’s going to kill you.

He simpers, trailing several, curious fingers from your swollen clit allll the way down to your visibly tightening hole which drools endlessly. Pearlescent gossamers of arousal cling to the pads of his fat digits, kissing his skin in a beautiful sheen of your bountiful essence. The warm, abrupt stretch of his careless fingers as they sink deeeeep inside of your slobbering hole is peerless, prying your jaw open in a pretty, guttural moan — so raw and primal and all for him.

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you, girl… sound even prettier up close,” he’s leaning down to better observe your desperate wails of rapture, pressing his clothed cock against the rear of your bare ass in the process, “got me fucking my hand like an idiot to the sound of you. How rude is that?” His breath hot and laden with lust against the crook of your neck.

Another wanton moan is belting from your gaped mouth at his confession. You can hardly help the pathetic buck of your hips, weakly fucking yourself against the stocky hand that cups your pretty pussy. The gnawing stretch of his fingers set your skin ablaze and yet, it’s not enough. You need more.

“Just f-fuck me… please? Before he gets home.” God, you are so fucking cute, bottom lip quivering in… fear? Anticipation?

Toji frowns feigndly. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared now, sweet girl?” A warm, calloused palm is splaying across the thick of your hip, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble. “Sure doesn’t feel like it…” he taunts, dragging his fingers out of you to smear your prolific arousal between your swollen lips and the slit of your ass, soon bringing them up to your stupidly gaped mouth, “doesn’t it taste like it either, huh?” He prompts you to taste yourself, his long, drooling digits hanging before your subconsciously parting lips.

And god, you could fucking cum right there, cunt throbbing embarrassingly around nothing but the fleeting memory of his fingers. You hardly have the time to loll out your tongue before he’s rudely stuffing his fingers into your warm, obedient mouth. A synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from both of your slacked jaws, yours muffled by his fat digits and his so careless and plainly conquered by his ineffable lust.

You hum contentedly around his thick fingers, cleaning your own arousal from them like the good whore he always knew you’d be. Drool spills from the corners of your lips and down his burly knuckles, coating his hand in an obscene mess of your sweet saliva. His fingers are deliberately creeping farther down your slutty little throat, forcing a proper gag from the pit of your core, more of your saliva consequently cascading down his palm.

Like the nasty slut he is, he’s pulling them out of your mouth, only to plop them inside of his own, sucking and drooling down those very digits, his cruel gaze holding yours. A guttural groan belts from the depths of his chest, sable eyes fluttering shut as he hums in satisfaction. Your mouth falls wide, jaw slacked as pretty little pants of incredulity pour from it, poor cunt aching in your ever growing arousal. What. The. Fuck.

“What? Nothing else to fuckin’ say, huh?” Those same fingers are running along your cunt once more, messily smearing the sinful amalgamation of married saliva. They’re sweeping across your swollen clit before slowly sinking back inside of you, preparing you. “Always talkin’ so much shit to me. Gonna shut you up real soon, sweetheart… swear to god.”

A stupid gasp parts your lips, stomach caving in arousal at the sound of him hastily slipping out of his plaid bottoms. A greedy hand is latching to the back of your right knee, pulling your leg up to pin it against the cool marble. The sight of your pretty pussy in all of her sloppy glory makes his cock twitch, the head dripping in sinful rivulets of pearlescent arousal.

You can barely stand the way he takes his cock into his fist, idly pumping his pretty erection, a slutty grin spreading across his scarred lips. From his girthy base allll the way to the fat, leaking head, he strokes himself, but not before swiping the pad of his thumb across the drooling opening, spreading his arousal down the expanse of his monstrous length. You fucked up. Royally.

“God,” you mumble, turning back around to stuff your face into the crook of your arm in utter horror, “god, I am s…so sorry.”

And he fucking laughs. Laughs at your apology; it’s loud and obnoxious and so clearly intended to piss you off because you’re not sorry, you’re scared and he knows it. He can see the way your body trembles atop the counter, drooling cunt shamelessly exposed with your leg hiked up so rudely. The way your big, pleading eyes widen in fear as he creeps closer. Even your futile attempt to scoot away when he begins to drag the head of his cock between both of your slutty holes, almost as if he can’t decide which to ruin first.

“Nuh uh… c’mere,” he nearly growls, impertinently pulling you back before him by the flimsy fabric of your night shirt, a disapproving grunt ensuing, “tryna run away from me, huh?” Two, large hands are groping the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart. “Oughta’ teach you some fuckin’ manners… such a mean little thing. Hell’s wrong with you?”

The head of his cock rests so heavily against your sloppy hole, hot precum oozing against the mess of slick that adorns your pretty pussy. Toji slaps the dense head against your lips once. A droning, helpless mewl pours from your gaped mouth, only for him to do it again, and again, and again. A lewd and deafening plap! plap! plap! reverberates throughout the dimly lit kitchen, sticky gossamers of married arousal tethering you as one.

“Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he admits, briefly dipping the head of his cock inside of you, dragging a wanton whimper from your lips, “such a shame y’er so mean to me… would’ve had you like this years ago if not for that nasty little mouth of yours.” He’s sinking inside of you yet again, but only to pull out when he’s gone too deep.

If your father were to walk into this kitchen at this very moment, he’d be utterly appalled. Horrified. You’re writhing beneath him, hips bucking so sluttily against his teasing cock. God, you have never craved something so horribly in your life; you could just die from the sheer deprivation and it’s hilarious to him. He’s taunting you like it’s some cruel fucking game and he’s got the upper hand.

Again, he laughs. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?”

“Yes, fuck.” You growl, evidently frustrated.

“Awwww you mad, sweetheart?” He irritatingly coos, leaning down to press a wet, openmouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “Is that poor pussy frustrated huh?” Another sloppy kiss between the valley of your shoulder blades, the head of his cock gliding between your glossy lips, spreading you apart. “Heh, she’s cryin’ for it, such a messy girl… drooling all over my cock like that.”

“Please,” it’s a broken, shameless plea as you crane your head, beautiful tears of desperation pricking your eyes, your pride somewhere so far gone, “pleasepleaseplease.”

A dark, breathy chuckle parts his lips, aching cock jerking against your awaiting hole. For years, he’s imagined you just like this — begging and crying for his cock like some insatiable whore. If anything, he’s denying himself; though, what’s left of his restraint quickly perishes at the sight of your sobbing hole tightening around nothing, kissing his shaft in a gleaming, warm mess.

He almost can’t help but to sink inside of you again, instead this time, he’s giving you everything, all of his twitching cock. The abrupt intrusion forces an incredulous gasp past your lips, a low, throaty groan dragging from his slack jaw in tandem. And just as he thought, your greedy pussy is swallowing his fat cock to the base effortlessly, almost as if it was hand tailored for you.

You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run — to clamber across the countertop and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move. He’s got you pinned to the marble, a heavy hand at the rear of your neck, the other splayed across the thick of your hip, pulling you back onto his cock. It aches. The delirious stretch of his cock and how it steals your breath away, your mouth sagged, yet nothing is uttered. For once in your life, you’re speechless.

“Is this really all it takes, huh?” His hips are reeling back, the shiny essence of your arousal sheathing the entirety of his cock. “God, is this all it fucking takes to shut you up? A cock in this slutty little pussy, huhhh?” The bruising snap of his hips as he pummels forward nearly has you gushing down the length of him all too soon. “Answer me… and use your big girl words, c’mon sweetheart.” 

A loud, desperate gasp of air is all you can manage, bottom lip trembling as you attempt to say something, anything. The hand that holds your neck is threading throughout your mussed hair, forcing your gaze onto his and he can’t help but to laugh at your stupid expression — drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, thick brows knitted so tightly as your pretty eyes threaten to cross. Of course you can’t fucking speak, you’re drunk.

“My goodness, I wish you could see yourself… you’re so stupid on it,” he admires almost endearingly, a warm, mindless thumb grazing your bottom lip, “that perfect fucking face, god. You are so pretty taking it, such a goooood pretty slut for that cock, fuck.” The near possessive growl that belts from the depths of his lungs is like nothing you have ever heard — so filthy and shameless and ridden with his unbearable lust.

Toji is completely losing himself in the wet, endless abyss of pleasure that is you. Babbling nothing but loud, reckless praises, your pretty name spilling so willfully from his slutty tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously jerking you back onto his cock. His big, greedy hands tighten so possessively around your pretty waist, meeting himself halfway. The obscene plap! of his achingly full balls beating up your quivering clit with each ensuing thrust.

“Thaaat’s it, you’re so good, that pussy is so fucking good… takin’ it soo deep for me.” He mindlessly blabbers, a large hand creeping beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sweeping across your soft, perspiring skin.

Every coherent thought you have ever had is long forgotten, poor mind completely barren. He’s the only thing you can hear, think, feel — the greedy hands that wordlessly command you, the warm stretch of his drooling cock as it wholly splits you apart. Even the fat, curious thumb that’s sinking inside of that other poor, neglected hole of yours is prying your lips open in a helpless mewl of pleasure.

“It’s sooo good… sooofuckingooood, oh my god.” You snarl, teeth bared and his jaw nearly unhinges — you sound so fucking pretty. “I love it, I love it, I loveee your c-cock.”

“Yeaaah, sweetheart?” He coos, heavy head deliriously falling back to dangle between his broad shoulders. “God, you needed this, didn’t you? Look at your hips buck like such a nasty slut.” A loud, ear splitting smack! lands against the fat of your ass. “Do you dream about it after you fuck yourself and cum all over my clothes, huh?” Another smack! to the other cheek, your poor cunt consequently squeezing down the base of his cock. “No fucking shame either.”

You possess half the brain to respond, not sure whether to shake your head or nod, too far gone to even make sense of anything anymore. Moan after unrestrained moan spill from both of your raptured tongues, the two of you sharing a few synchronous gasps of air or delirious cries of overwhelming pleasure. It’s the most debauched, yet utterly erotic thing you have ever experienced, but then, there’s a loud, roaring voice that’s stilling Toji’s hips.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Fuck.

© fushiguho.

[wonderjanga]

Workaholic

Billy doesn’t notice, but he’s a workaholic. Like a really bad one.

Supes and Marvel: *talking*

Hero 1: “Hey, Cap!”

Marvel: *pauses his convo* “Yes?”

Hero 1: “Could you cover me for monitor duty? I have it later today at three.”

Marvel: “Oh, sure! No problem!” *smiles*

Hero 1: *extremely grateful* “Thanks a lot, man.”

A couple minutes later…

Hero 2: “Hey, Marvel, could you cover me for monitor duty for tomorrow morning?”

Marvel: “Sure!”

Supes: “Back to back monitor duty? Are you sure you want that?” *sounds concerned*

Marvel: “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Supes: “I… never mind.”

A couple more minutes later…

Hero 3: “Cap, could you cover me for monitor duty-”

Supes: *sounds firm because he thinks his friend is being taken advantage of* “No, he will not.”

Marvel: *sounds confused* “But I want to?”

Supes: “Marvel, you can’t just accept monitor duty for nearly two days straight. What about Fawcett?”

Marvel: “What about it? I can protect it just fine with or without monitor duty.”

Hero 3: “If it’s really that much trouble, you can just say no, Cap-” *feels bad*

Marvel: “But I want to say yes!”

or

Marvel: *zoned out and listening to the Gods arguing his head*

Batman: “Captain.” *walks over, holding a tablet*

Marvel: “Yes?”

Batman: “You’re going to sign up for the latest long-term missions, right? Like usual?” *hands him the tablet*

Marvel: “Of course!” *looks at three missions available for sign up* “Do any of them overlap?”

Batman: “No, but-”

Marvel: “Great!” *signs up for all three*

Batman: “Did even read the content of the missions?”

Marvel: “No? Should I have?”

Batman: “Yes?? Are you sure you wanna sign up for all three, Captain? You’d be gone for nearly 3 months.”

Marvel: “Eh it’s fine. Tawny will cover for me, and I don’t think any of my villains will attack Fawcett if I’m not there.”

Batman: *stares for a second before sighing* “Alright then.”

Bruce took this as confirmation that Marvel doesn’t have a personal life. Being gone for three months without a single person noticing would be impossible if he had one.

or

Worker 1: “Ugh… I can’t believe this.”

Marvel: *appeared from nowhere* “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

Worker 1: “AGH- Wha? Captain Marvel??” *in disbelief that the Captain Marvel is talking to him* “Uhhh no. I don’t need help at all.”

Worker 2: “He does. Help him, Cap.”

Marvel: “Okay!” *quickly helps and trots off to go help someone else*

Worker 1: *makes sure that Billy is far enough* “Dude, why’d you just make Captain Marvel help me?”

Worker 2: “I didn’t make him do anything. I think he just likes to be useful. Not that I’m complaining. He always looks so happy when he gets to help too.” *pauses to think for a bit* “Point is, just let him help if you need it.”

So yes, Billy will take any work, and seek out any work. He’s just that type of little guy. Anyways, Billy eventually found out that his workaholic tendencies were a little extreme when Freddy started also being a hero.

Junior: “I can’t believe I’m in the Watchtower!”

Marvel: “Yeah, it’s amazing right?”

Batman: “Marvel. The new sign up sheets are out- who is this?”

Marvel: “Ah, Mr. Batman Sir, this is Junior. Junior, this is Mr. Batman Sir.”

Junior: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!” *hero worship is practically oozing out*

Batman: “Likewise…” *is internally confused* “Anyways, Marvel, the new sign up sheets for long-term missions are out. I assume you’ll be joining like always?” *offers the Sign uptablet*

Marvel: “How’d you guess?” *smiles and takes the tablet from him*

Junior: “Long-term missions?”

Marvel: *pauses just when he’s about to sign up for a mission, and looks over to Junior* “Oh right. Junior, I don’t know if you wanna come or not.”

Junior: “Uh…” *looks between Batman and Marvel* “Sure, I’ll go.”

Marvel: *smiles at Junior* “Good.” *looks over to Batman* “How long are they?”

Batman: *swears that just for a teensy weensy second, Marvel’s smile was fatherly* “Each of them should take approximately two weeks to complete.”

Marvel: “Really? That’s shorter than normal.” *looks over to Freddy nervously* “Are you okay with being gone for six weeks?”

Junior: “Si- six weeks?! Batman said we’d only be gone for two??”

Marvel: “Yeah, but that’s the length for one mission. There’s three listed here.”

Junior: “Wait, you’re signing us up for all three?!”

Marvel: “Yeah?” *sounds unsure* “How about I only sign you up for one instead? We’ll do that one together and I’ll do the other two alone.”

Junior: “Wha…? Why are you signing up for three in the first place?”

Marvel: “Because why not?”

Junior: “Dude, that’s not normal.”

Marvel: “Of course it is! Mr. Batman sir hasn’t ever said anything.”

Junior: “That doesn’t mean it’s normal.”

Batman: “He is right. Signing up for three missions in a row, leaving earth for occasionally months at a time isn’t normal for anyone besides Green Lanterns. Captain, when was the last time you haven’t signed up for the latest mission and instead relaxed?”

Marvel: “I don’t know… but I do relax! Every single minute of me not being a hero is me relaxing!”

Junior: “Is it though…?”

Billy still ended up signing himself up for the three missions. Freddy decided to join him on the other two as well, so he wouldn’t be leaving his new buddy alone.

(Also, I’m sorry, but I had to just sneak in that little itty-bitty piece of Dad Marvel)

[fluffylino]

loner ! minho - drabble

you've observed him in your classes. he's hot. he's always by himself. little did you know he was fascinated with you too...

-contains mature themes (risky sex oops)

minho's in your class. he's there almost for every single lecture. never skipping unless he didn't show up to uni.

theres something about him that makes your heart race. maybe because you were just like him. the silent ones in the class who mostly sat right at the back where you could be at peace and avoid most interactions.

somehow the two of y'all never sat together, sometimes sitting on opposite ends of the small class or maybe on the bench infront. you watch him at times whenever the lesson content gets boring. taking in the sight of him paying attention.

was he really paying attention or was he just lost in his thoughts?

were you ever in his thoughts?

did you ever make an appearance in his mind?

.

.

its a long day. back to back lectures since 8 in the morning and you're tired. this time your class was being held in a small private classroom that nearly no one knew about except the people in this specific class.

neatly taking off your shoes outside the carpetted stairway.

noticing the larger pair of combat boots that are tucked away from all the other shoes.

mindlessly you keep your shoes near his. because he had mindlessly been doing that for the past few weeks. placing his shoes next to yours.

silently entering the class, only to realise you had losf track of time in the canteen. 10 mins since your class had begun and here you were.

heart thumping nervously at all the eyes on you, as you quietly scutter to an empty chair. the teacher has made all of y'all sit in a semi circle. for more integration and freedom.

and you find yourself seated directly across minho. taking in the sight of him entirely as your professor absentmindedly continues talking about something.

your eyes can't help but trail down to his hands. watching him crack his knuckles and adjust the rings he wore on his digits.

the black shirt complimenting his physique and his leisure way of sitting making your stomach churn with arousal.

why were you finding him so ravishing today? seeing him so upfront worked wonders on your imaginative brain.

blinking slowly as you thought of how his fingers would feel against your body. maybe even between your legs...

blushing heavily when he glances at you briefly. and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see him hide a smirk.

.

.

class is over and you're about to leave when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. and you're quick to turn around.

masking on a kind smile which immediately falters.

"wait back with me..." its him.

bag slinging across his shoulder as he stands beside you. quietly waiting for everyone to leave. with a long stride, he closely the door of the classroom. latching it smoothly and for a second you think he's uncomfortable with you.

what if he noticed how obvious you were.

"u-uh is everything o-okay?" you mumble, taking a few steps back when he stands in front of you. minimizing the gap as much as possible.

"i don't know, you tell me..." he lets out, tilting his head with intent. your mouth opens and closes. going speechless and every single coherent thought escaping your mind.

"...i d-don't know" you stutter unconciously. struggling to maintain eye contact with him. looking anywhere but at his eyes.

"do you...." he starts off. clearing his throat before looking at the latched door for a second, turning to purse his lips at you in a somewhat shy manner.

your bag sliding off one of your shoulder's and falling on the ground with a soft thud when he holds your chin.

making you look up at him the whole time.

"do you want to eat ramyeon...with me?"

minho whispers. purposefully leaning closer to breath heavy on your parted lips. your own breath shaking as you unconciously refuse to create a gap between y'all.

"or am i just eye candy for you?" he adds with a playful tone.

"no! i mean...n-no. you're more than just...that"

you mumble, cheeks heating up furiously. eye candy? that meant he knew you were watching him.

"well this eye candy's wondering if you just wanna keep staring at him or instead do something about it..."

.

.

.

"is this what you were dreaming of"

minho whispers huskily, hand stuffed down your pants. pulling you higher up on his lap. fingers tracing over your cunt. your nervousness dying down when he touches you like he's meant to be the only one touching you so intimately.

"m-sorry" you whimper. feeling concerned with yourself for imagining such vile things. filthy dirty thoughts during innocent moments.

"no baby, this is what i dreamt of too"

rubbing his middle and ring finger up against your folds. teasingly feeling up your clit. knowing that this was the first time you'd let anyone touch you like this.

"dreamt of dirtier things...so fucking filthy"

slipping his digit past your entrance and you keen. stomach burning with the unfamiliar intrusion.

"thought of you riding me on one of these stupid chairs" minho breathes out. curling his digits upwards to rub your walls. grunting when you grind down on his fingers.

"m-me too...wanted to ride you...want to ride you"

you gasp out, covering your mouth at the risks y'all were taking. an empty locked classroom.

"your s-shoes" and he smiles.

"you noticed. couldn't get over the size difference"

he teases, pulling his fingers out to lick them seductively. deciding to draw fast rough circles on your clit. stimulating the bundle of nerves so fast that you shake in his hold.

"don't you have class?" he asks, knowing damn well that right now class was the last thing on your mind.

"i have you." you moan, praying that luck ws on your side and that you'd get the time to taste him...

.

.

.

.

.

inspired by the dream i had last night AAAAAAA im screaming without the s-

[xiaomainlmao]

Kinich x reader

----------

Kinich always believed that he had to do things on his own. A tough negotiator, he knows better than anyone else that all things come at a price. Thus, to avoid being indebted to anyone, he preferred doing things on his own from a very tender age.

Some people don't like him because he always charges mora for his services- he's aware, but he never bothered with the opinions of others. There's only a select few for whom he would do favours for "free", if he feels like it that is. (And even then, "free" just means without mora, but in return for other valuables or acts of service like with Mualani or Kachina).

Thus, even when he saw the commission with "unknown details" and with a "threat potentially greater than a few rabid saurians", he did not bother asking for more details, or bringing anyone to back him up.

Bad decision, he realises, pushed to a corner by abyssal beasts. The "rabid saurians" he had to take out, had already been taken out. A small group consisting of yumkasaurs and koholasaurs slaughtered by the mimiflora, who now took on the form of the dead beasts.

An abyssal pylon must be nearby, the frequency of the monsters confirms it, but it doesn't seem to be in plain sight.

"Ah your foolishness will finally lead to your doom! This HAS to be the moment I, the Great Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw, have been waiting for. Now rejoice! For once I have taken over your mortal form, I shall grant you the mercy of avenging you." The pixelated being floats higher into the sky, perhaps to get a better view of Kinich's current predicament.

"You talk too much." Kinich growls, not sparing even a glance to Ajaw, long used to his antics.

He effectively shields himself with his greatsword from another one of the beast's attacks while another tries to claw at his abdomen. He wasn't caught off-guard by the number of enemies, merely outwitted. In any other situation, all he had to do was destroy the pylon, and defeat the remaining beasts.

If only the pylon were in sight...

Kinich barely dodges the yumkasaur that leaps at him, his braids coming undone. He's panicking a bit now, being reminded of the time he died in the Night Warden Wars, but he doesn't intend to retreat, not yet.

If only the pylon were in sight....

"Lean backwards! Quick!"

He hears a voice, and instinctively obeys. However, he isn't sure if he moved in time, as he feels a warm liquid seeping through his pants near his calf.

Blood.

With his leg injured, he's bound to be held back even more now. Kinich gazes down at his bleeding leg, and lifts his head just in time to see shards of ice appear in front of him, creating a barrier between him and the mimiflora.

"Delivery for 'Malipo' Kinich! Chief Wayna told me you'd be here. You were gone for longer than usual, and he started getting antsy." You used your rope to swing to Kinich's side, a small smile on your face and your polearm in tow.

"UggHH YOU MEASLY INSECT! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE PROCESS THROUGH WHICH I COULD HAVE ATTAINED THIS GRASSHOPPER'S MORTAL FORM." A very red Ajaw slowly descended downwards to where the both of you stood, causing you to chuckle.

"My apologies, Great Dragonlord," you tease, "but it's not over yet."

"There has to be an abyssal pylon nearby, I just don't know where," the saurian hunter states, bracing himself for the approaching mitachurl.

"Ah yeah, those things. It's up there." Kinich follows your gaze and notices the tiny blackhole hidden behind a foliage. "Ah, so that's why he didn't notice it."

"You're injured. You probably won't be able to stand the attacks." You quickly assess his stumbling form.

"No I ca-"

"Deal with the pylon, I'll deal with the monsters." With a quick spin of your polearm, you charge at the mitachurl, swiftly cutting through its mask before using your cryo vision to freeze the surrounding hilichurls in place. Kinich watches your stable form hindered by his bangs. A bead of sweat dripping down to his chin.

"You lowly SERVANT. Are you really just going to stand here? Make a choice you dimwit." Ajaw screeches.

The saurian hunter regains his composure at this, quickly flicking his hair to the side and using his grappling hooks to reach the branch. He glances at your fighting form one last time before dealing with the pylon.

The cries of the hilichurls dies down almost immediately. Relaxing, Kinich stumbles down to the ground, realising the weakness in his legs. And his bleeding wound. He sighs as you approach him.

"What do you want in return for saving me?"

You don't reply, instead you kneel down by his side to assess his leg. "Here, let me cool it down." Cryo energy flows around the blood-stained claw marks, making the hunter hiss in pain.

"Give me your hand, I'll take you back to the tribe. Cryo isn't the best substitute for an ice-pack."

"No, it's alright. I'll get back on my own. I don't want to be indebted to anyone."

"Hmm..." placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to think as a smile creeps up on your face. "You asked me if I wanted something in return, correct?"

"Yes?"

"Well, in return for saving your life, I would like for you to listen to me and let me help you."

"But that would only make me more indebted to you-"

"I'm not really seeking for anything in return. But since you don't take things for free, I'm asking for your compliance."

"..."

"Please, Kinich. Help me help you."

Sighing, he takes your outstretched hand, letting you take the lead back to the tribe.

"HAH. So my lowly servant decides to succumb to someone else. SO MUCH for not taking favours. Hey wait- ARE EITHER OF YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME. DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND YOU MORTALS."

Well, that's another headache for Kinich to deal with- finding a way to repay you.

----------

Thank you for motivating me into writing a Kinich fic <3 @aurumalatus

----------

[capquinn]

cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)

STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭

So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.

And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.

And that gutted him.

He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“Need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”

“I’ve got it, Quinn.”

It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.

By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I was a jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”

And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?

You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.

Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

-----

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

[fanficsformyfaves]

Us

Agatha Harkness x Fem Witch!Reader

WARNING: ANGST, SMUT 18+, Mentions Abandonment, Mentions of Violence, Mentions Of Death, Panic Attack, Hickeys, Fingering (R Receiving), Oral (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader and Agatha met during the 1920's in New Orleans, when Agatha had to move once again as to not arouse suspicion for not aging. They were together for years, but one night, everything changed and Agatha leaves. A century later, she finds Reader again and convinces her to walk down the Witch's Road alongside her and her new coven

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

Letter In Purple And Italics!

ONE THING I'MMA DO...IS NOT CRASH THE FUCK OUT AFTER WRITING THIS (I'm reminding myself)

After narrowly escaping Alice's trial and making sure Teen was okay, gathered and started a campfire to brace the cold winter night, before resuming our journey down the road.

"(Y/N)", called out, as I turned to face her.

"Why don't you show us your battle scars?"

I take a quick glance around the group and shrug, thinking 'why not?'.

I pull up my shirt and show them the scar on my stomach, taking notice of the way Agatha's eyes lingered on my exposed skin.

"Bar fight with some random chick who thought I was looking at her boyfriend", I scoff.

"Damn", Alice muttered.

"Yeah, she took a bottle and broke it off on the table and...well. I'm pretty sure you guys can guess how that ended", I say, rearranging my blouse.

"Like I swung that way", I added, watching the ladies turn to each other chuckling.

Just then, Agatha pipes up.

"I have a scar"

"Yeah, the one on your arm", Lilia pointed out.

"Not just that one", she interjected, shaking her head.

I narrow my gaze, looking down at her. More than a hundred years later and I still remembered every inch of her body from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. If my memories served me right, that was the only scar she had.

"A long time ago...I loved someone", she began.

My heart sunk slightly, realizing who she was talking about.

"And I had to something I did not want to do...even if I had no other choice"

That was bullshit and she knew it. She did have a choice and she chose to be a coward.

"And it hurt them", she added.

Back in nineteen-twenty, the start of the Roaring Twenties era, Agatha and I met, when she walked into the speakeasy I was performing at. I was singing my final song of the evening and I spot her sizing me up from the front row. Of course, I grew bashful at the attention, but remained committed to finishing my set.

Once I was done, I take a bow, expressing my gratitude for the crowd's enthusiasm.

"You've been lovely this evening, I'm (Y/F/N), goodnight!", I bid farewell, as the room erupted with applause.

I get back to my dressing room and change into a more comfortable dress, before making my way to the bar.

"You did great, kid", the barkeep praised, handing me my usual.

"Thanks, Rusty", I say, taking the martini.

"Dirty", I hear a voice say behind me, causing me to look over my shoulder.

It was the woman from earlier.

"Pardon?", I say, narrowing my eyes.

"The drink?", she said, smirking.

I look back at my drink and that's when I realized what she was referring to.

"Oh!"

She chuckles, taking the seat beside me.

"You've got quite the voice", she complimented, bringing a pinkish hue to my cheeks.

"Thank you", I replied, avoiding her piercing gaze.

I could sense a certain air about her that intrigued me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"The name's Agatha Harkness", she introduced, extending a hand.

Harkness....why did that name sound so familiar?

"(Y/N)", I said, offering mine, lazily bent at the wrist.

She takes it and runs her thumb over my knuckles, causing my breath to hitch over so slightly. I couldn't help but bend to my curiosity's will.

"You said your last name was...Harkness?"

"Yeah, sound familiar?", she asked.

I had to be careful. I couldn't risk exposing the fact that I was a witch to the wrong person.

"I believe so. It might sound silly, but a long time ago, I had family that migrated out of Salem"

Her brows raise and she looks me up and down again, releasing my hand.

"Or at least that's what my mother told me. Any who, she had this book of our family's history and I think I might've seen that last name somewhere"

"Is that so?", she questioned.

Her voice sultry and soft.

"I told you it was silly"

"Not at all", she disagreed.

She takes a quick glance around the room, before subtly nodding at a waiter serving drinks.

"Watch him right there"

I do as she says and in that moment, the waiter's eyes glow a brilliant shade of purple, before he drops the tray.

My hand goes over my mouth in shock, as she let out a snort of laughter.

"You're a witch", I whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yes and I know you are one too", she says, looking over at me.

I couldn't help but grin in excitement. Not only had it been years since I'd even seen another witch, but I was actually speaking to one.

"Wanna blow this joint?", she questioned, offering her hand once more.

And since that night, we'd become inseparable, spending every waking moment together. If we weren't out and up to mischief, we were on each other like fever on skin. Not a day would go by before she replaced one fading love-bite with a fresh one.

"Just so people know you're happily spoken for", she exhaled against my neck.

I was sure I'd finally met the person I was meant to be with. The twin flame that reignited the parts of me that I thought were gone for good...which only made it hurt all the more, when that fateful night came.

We were walking home through the quiet empty streets, after one of my gigs.

"Hey", she leaned in to whisper.

"Keep the corset on tonight", she said, making me chuckle to myself.

"You are insatiable"

"Can you blame me?", she sarcastically quipped.

Just then, women in cloaks began to emerge from the shadows. Sensing potential danger, Agatha immediately shields me behind her.

"Can we help you?", Agatha questioned.

"Traitor", they hissed, before the head of the group stepped forward.

"Agatha Harkness", she called out.

"You are found guilty of the murder of your coven"

My stomach drops, hearing the accusation.

"Agatha, what is she talking about?"

"Don't worry about it, sweetness", she reassured, not taking her eyes off of the seven women before us.

"Seize her!", the head ordered.

I use my powers in an attempt to knock them back, only for her to ricochet my spell and heating me right in the stomach, causing me to double over in pain.

"No!", Agatha exclaimed, before facing them once more.

They all began reciting an incantation and a beam of blue struck Agatha, causing her to groan out.

"Agatha!", I say, trying to get back up to help.

"Don't!", she yelled, holding out a hand to keep me where I was.

Just then, the stream of blue magic turned purple and within seconds, the woman began to age rapidly and grow weak. My brows knit in confusion, as I tried to process what was happening.

Eventually, they all dropped to the ground one by one, leaving Agatha in a stand off with the head of the group.

"You...were born...evil!", she struggled, before following the other women's fates with a harsh thud.

Agatha dusts herself off, rushing back to me.

"Are you okay?", she whispered, cupping my face.

"Yeah", I exhaled.

Whether or not I was honest about how I was feeling, I didn't want to burden her more than I knew she already was.

The walk home was silent, but not the kind of silence that brought comfort or peace. It was tense and daunting. I had so many questions, but knew it wasn't the right time. Even as we got to my apartment and slipped into bed, my mind raced. Who were those women? Why did accuse Agatha of such a horrible thing? Most importantly....were they telling the truth?

"I'm so sorry", Agatha muttered, holding me closer against her.

Her voice giving away that she was on the brink of tears.

"Why?", I say, turning to face her.

"That you got caught up in all of this"

I sigh through my nose, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"You would've done it for me"

Her face crinkles in agony.

"Let's just get some sleep. You can explain everything in the morning", I reassured, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

She nods, pulling my head into her chest.

But when that morning came, my eyes fluttered open to a cold empty side. Panicked, I got up and immediately went looking for her, afraid more of those women came back in the dead of night. But when I reach the living room and find a note on the table, my heart met the floor with a smack.

My dearest (Y/N),

Meeting you was single-handedly the best part of the life I was given. You've shown me kindness, patience and a love I could never forget. I didn't think I was capable or even worthy of that kind of love, but you came in like a whirlwind and turned my whole word upside down.

And as much pain as it brings me to say this, that is also the reason why I had to leave. To ensure that I'd never bring harm to you ever again. Where I go, trouble follows and you deserve better than to live your life in fear simply because of me. I love you far too much to allow you to do that to yourself.

Sincerely,

A.Harkness

I collapse to the floor in tears, sobbing and struggling to breathe.

She was gone. Just like that. It felt like a part of me, the part that was only ever hers, was ripped away from my grasp. Years pass, people grow old and die and there I was, haunted by the one that got away.

"She is my scar"

Her eyes meet mine and the moment they did, I could feel my eyes begin to tear up and my throat start to tighten. Not wanting the group to see me upset, I got up.

"I'm gonna take a walk", I announced, trying hard to hide the tears threatening to spill.

I walk a good distance away, whilst breathing in to keep the tears from escaping. Agatha takes a deep breath, going to follow me, when Lilia grabs her by the wrist.

"She needs time", she reminded.

Agatha scoffs and rips her arm away. She eventually finds me at the top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the road. Her hand gently meets the small of my waist and that was all it took for my tears to escape.

"Don't", I say, shrugging away from her touch and turning to face her.

"Don't", I repeated, shaking my head.

"(Y/N)-"

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm only here cause Teen asked for my help", I struggled through my fading unbothered-facade.

She sighs, bowing her head.

"You're hurt", she muttered.

"Like you care"

"Don't say that. I do care"

I scoff, wiping my tears.

"That's rich coming from you. The same person who dragged Sharon into this, knowing she wouldn't survive"

"I did what I had to-"

"Stop saying that!", I cried out, causing Agatha to be taken aback.

My face scrunches up in agony, as I clutched my chest. Each breath was getting harder and harder to find.

"You...You", I broke out into sobs and Agatha rushes to sit me down.

"Is it a panic attack?", she questioned, hastily.

I try to get her away from her, but to no avail. No words would come out and all I could do was pathetically wail in her arms. All the feelings I managed to bury were all hitting me at once and there was now way of stopping them.

She takes my back against her chest, rubbing up and down my arms in an attempt to ground me.

"Count the trees. Count the stars", she ordered.

I look around and in my haze, I could make out the six surrounding trees and about a dozen solemn stars spread out across the sky.

"How many?"

"Mmm", I shake my head, fighting to find the words.

"How many, (Y/N)?", she repeated, firmer.

"Six...thirteen", I take in a shaky breath between the numbers.

"Good....good. Follow my breathing", she whispered, brushing my hair back away from my face.

We take a deep inhale, hold it for a few seconds and let it out. She repeated this till I was calm again to sit up on my own.

"That's it", she muttered softly.

She still remembered how to ease my anxiety, something I was sure she'd forgotten how to do. We sat in the tense silence for a minute, before I finally found the courage to speak again.

"Why did you come back for me? And don't say it's because of the road"

She looks down at her lap, hesitantly.

"I wanted to see you again"

It was now my turn to avert my gaze.

"What? Do you think I'm lying?"

"Well, that's kind of what you're known for-"

"Not to you", she cuts off, taking my hand and causing me to turn back to her.

"I knew you could handle it and survive, yes...but I had to know you were okay"

I stilled, contemplating whether I should take my hand away, but seemingly unable to do so.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. How you were, what you were doing, who you were with, if you were still alive. The not-knowing drove me crazy, but it didn't matter...cause I knew keeping you safe was more important. I was a walking target and I couldn't risk getting you caught in the cross-fire", her words faltering, as her eyes began to brim with tears.

"It scared me too much", she admitted, hanging her head in shame, as tear after tear hit the ground.

"So I left...because it was easier to lose you by choice"

Her words shattered the parts of me I had just finally put back together.

"I still loved you...even after what happened", my voice reduced to nothing but whispered sobs.

"Even after you left...even now"

She turns to face me with a look of surprise.

"And I hate it", I whisper to myself, as my eyes fell shut.

She carefully cradles my face with shaky hands and my eyes reunite with hers once again.

"You have every right to", her voice stern, yet gentle.

"You needed me and I bailed. That was on me...but I need you to understand where I was coming from. If you were in my place, what would you have done? Would you have dragged me along, even if it meant putting me in danger?", she questioned.

I had no answer. I thought long and hard, but eventually came up short.

"What I did hurt you, I'm not denying that, but it was for the best. I would've never forgiven myself if...", her voice trembled.

I was stumped. Thinking about if I was in her place opened my eyes. Maybe she was right.

"If I let anything happen to you", she whimpered, sniffling.

Her eyes of ocean blue bore into mine with a sense of desperation.

"Please...I am so so sorry", she choked, sliding onto her knees and burying her face into my lap.

I take in a shuddering breath, gripping her shoulders to pull her back. I cup the sides of her face, as her eyes pleaded me not to let go.

"I love you", she muttered.

I could no longer fight it. The years of grief and solitude had finally caught up to me and before I knew it, my lips met hers in a heated exchange.

She pulls me atop of her by my waist to straddle her thighs and my fingers tangle into the roots of her hair. She then turns us over to gently lay me down against the fallen flower petals. Her lips stray from mine to my cheek and down my neck to leave a fresh bruise on my skin. I hiss, feeling her teeth graze against it, as her hands tightened like vice around my waist.

Finally, she pulls away only slightly to bunch up my skirt to reveal my lower half. Looking at me once more to ask for permission to proceed, I nod breathlessly. She spreads my legs apart, pulling my underwear to the side and wasting no time to lick up my slickness. I moan out, grasping at the roots of her hair.

"God, I missed you", she mumbled, dragging the tips of her fingers up and down my entrance.

"I missed you", I emphasized through my pants.

She hummed against my sensitive bundle of nerves, sending vibrations through it. I had almost forgotten just how good she used to make me feel. With a gentle motion, she slips two fingers into me, as I cried out her name.

"Agatha!"

"I know, baby", she reassured, stroking my outer thigh with her free hand, as she continued to devour me.

With each stroke of her fingers, she coaxed me closer and closer to my climax.

"Oh god!", I whined, bringing a smirk to her lips.

"That's it, my love", she encouraged, as she quickened her pace.

She knew just what to do to drive me up the wall and she relished in that fact, for no one else could make me feel the way she did.

"You taste so good", she praised.

I felt myself beginning to pulse around her, bringing a red hue to my cheeks from how embarrassingly fast she managed to get me to my peak.

"I feel you, baby. Do it...give it to me", she demanded, ramming directly into my g-spot.

I was then thrusted over the edge , as my vision faded to black from the overwhelming pleasure. After she was finished licking up the mess I made and helping me ride out my high, she crawled back up to share the taste of me with a desperate kiss.

"Do you taste yourself?" I nod, continuing to move my lips against hers.

Once I stilled, she rolls over and pulls me atop her chest, basking in the sweet afterglow.

"I'd say that was successful reunion", she teased, earning a scoff from me.

[storiesfromafan]

He's Not So Bad (18+) - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: I bring you the awaited follow up to He's So Annoying 😊

I hope this ain't too bad. I finished writing it this morning before work. And just finished revising, so forgive me if there is any spelling/grammer mistakes.

Also, today wasn't such a good day at work, would appreciate some love 😅

Warnings: spelling/grammer mistakes, public sex, p in v

Prompt/s: “Can you feel how much I want you?” and “You’re mine"

Tag list: @moorningvoice @legobookstore @revesephemeres

After Potion’s class, you found Mattheo flirting and annoying you more with every shared class for the last few days. And every time you do your best to ignore him or put him in his place, he continued to drag up that night. You began to think he enjoyed remembering it, and like if he mentioned it, you’d jump back into bed with him. And you wanted too. But your better judgement told you no, he just wanted you physically.

Unfortunately this day was the day he’d followed you out of your last class – Divination – and was adamant on giving lost puppy energy. And that was even with people around.

“Honestly, why do you keep chasing me, when there are so many willing females that would gladly be your bed buddy?” You sighed turning down a hallway that looked to be deserted.

Mattheo shrugged. “I like the chase with you. It’s a challenge, love”.

“Don’t called me love!” You shot back, sending him a glare. Which made him smile.

Mattheo thought it was funny how you hadn’t clued on. How he was infatuated with you. His constant presence, annoyance and the nickname – love – were tell-tale signs of his affection for you. Hell, he’d even gotten detention the other day for hexing a Hufflepuff guy who Mattheo overheard planning to ask you out. You were his. And that meant you were off limits.

Mattheo chuckled. “Deny all you like, love, but I know you enjoy it".

Rolling your eyes while you picked up the pace, wanting to put distance between you too, as well as get back to the Ravenclaw house. The only place you could be free of the menace on your heels. If only you know what was about to come.

You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, then being pulled down a dead end of the hallway. Your body being pressed against the wall, hidden behind a statue and pillar. Another hand was pressed against you mouth before you could even make a noise. Before you was Mattheo, the person who had dragged you down here and pressed you against the wall.

Your shock expression turned to that of a glare. Which told him that you weren’t going to scream, probably tell him off, but he could handle that. So with a small, sweet smile on his lips, Mattheo removed his hand. Instantly you let him have it.

“What the hell! What are you thinking!?” You voiced, tone sharp and annoyed.

Mattheo remained quiet, admiring the fire in you. He moved the hand that had been over your mouth, to push back your hair so it was over your shoulder. Before running it along your jaw and down your neck. You shuddered. You told yourself you had to be mad, and not show how his simple actions affected you. Because they did. His touch was electric, the pads of his fingers running slowly over your skin, sending your heart a flutter.

Mattheo of course noticed the shudder, and the slight change in you. He’d been studying for so long, he knew the signs. The hand holding your wrist moved to rest against the wall next to your head, almost completely caging you in. His warm chocolate brown orbs had darkened with the thought of what was to come. So long as you let him, of course. Mattheo wouldn’t do anything you didn’t beg for. And he’d have you beginning.

Leaning in, Mattheo ran his nose along your jaw, taking in the faint smell of your perfume. Which he noted he needed to find out what it was, so he could buy you more, for it was his new favourite scent when mixed with your own smell. You stiffened at his action. You didn’t expect Mattheo to be this forward. Sure, he liked to flirt and bring up that night, maybe even tell you what else he’d like to do to you. But actually do it? This surprised you.

“You smell so good" Mattheo softly groaned before nipping your jaw, making you jump. “Jumpy, love?” He chuckled.

You shot him a dirty look, which he enjoyed oh so much. “N-no" you retorted.

Once more Mattheo chuckled, before kissing your jaw and then nipping once more. Again you jumped, but not as much as the first time. “Hmmm, you are jumpy" he commented teasingly.

You placed your hands against Mattheo's chest and push, hoping he’d get the hint and back up. But no. He only moved closer, your strength nothing for him. Before your hands could be trapped, you moved them to his shoulder. Bad move. It not only allowed Mattheo to press his body completely against yours, against the wall. But also gave him the idea you wanted him. Which you did, but tried to fight the spark between you both.

His lips moved to your neck. Kissing and nipping. You fought the rising moan that so badly wanted to be freed from your lips. No, you couldn’t let Mattheo win. Yet the moment his free hand skimmed up your side, coming to rest under your breast, you wanted to whine, wanting him to touch you there. And you know he wanted to, the way his hand slightly shaked against you, his restraint impressive. But he wouldn’t just do it, not without permission, your submission and begging.

The hands on his shoulders grasped at his white button up shirt, your nails would have dug into his flesh if not for that item of clothing. The memory of how your nails felt on and digging into his flesh flooding both of your memories. Recalling how Mattheo moan and groaned from the scrapping down his back, and the reminder he had for a few days. He wanted your mark on him always. But that would be another time.

Yet you were holding back, and he couldn’t have that. He needed you to give in to him. Mattheo pressed his lower half closer to you, his arousal pressing into your hip.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” He groaned lips having moved to your ear, his hot breath tickling. “So badly I need you, love”.

Your breath caught in your throat from the feel of him and his admission. Which hit straight in the pit of your stomach, adding to your arousal. You pressed your legs together trying to will it away, but the embers were lit. From here it would just grow to an all-consuming fire. Against your better judgement, and senses, you moved a hand to the back of Mattheo's head. You grasped his brown curls, before pulling his head back so you could look at his gorgeous face. Expecting a knowing smirk upon his lips, you would have been surprised by the dark look on his face, if you weren’t lost by desire. Which mirrored in his eyes.

You pulled him in so that your lips collided in a hard, messy kiss. Giving all in. Which Mattheo accepted. The hand resting under your breast moved to cup your mound, that you sighed at. Taking his opportunity, Mattheo slipped his tongue into your mouth, claiming it and your tongue for himself. Feverishly his tongue moved with your own, a frantic dance.

While you lost yourselves in the kiss, Mattheo moved both hands down your sides. Moving over your hips and down your thighs. He moved down and you continued to move with him in the kiss. Mattheo then moved his hands back up your thighs, under your skirt, to the back of your thighs. Before you knew it, he had lifted you, bringing your legs up around his waist. His hands groping your behind, while he pushes you further against the wall. His arousal pressed against your aching core, both clothing separating those intimate places. With a hard, slow grind against your body from Mattheo, you pulled back from the kiss and moaned. Instantly he moved to sloppily kiss your neck.

“W-we shouldn’t b-be doing this h-here" you managed to choke out, as he kept grinding against you.

Mattheo groaned against your neck. “But I need you now, love. I can’t wait" he retorted. “No one will know, as long as you’re quiet".

The way his voice lowered and had this desperate tone to it, it just added to the fire. With those words and tone your last shred of sense left you. Too far gone now to back out. You bucked your core against his arousal, solidifying you heard and understood him. And that pleased Mattheo so much.

One of his hands moved to your clothed sex, fingers finding your bundle of nerves and pressing it over your panties. You groaned softly, before you mewed when he moved those fingers in circles over the nub. You rested your head against the wall, eyes closed while your hand gripped Mattheo’s hair. He moved his head back, drinking in the sight of your face and his hand pleasuring you.

When he abruptly stopped his ministrations, you shot him a dirty look. He chuckled. “Patience, love. It’s just beginning".

He placed a long, chaste kiss to your lips. While his hand moved to his slacks, he pulled down his zipped and managed to free himself. It was a moment of relief for Mattheo, for his hard member had been in torture being confined. Using his hand he pumped himself a few times before feeling the over whelming need to be inside you. So, letting himself go, Mattheo moved his hand to your panties. Pushing the clothing a side, he jostled you up the wall a little move, hand firm on your behind.

Moving himself to your entrance, Mattheo ran the tip along your folds, gathering your slick. When the tip nudged your bundle of nerves, you groaned, feeling a jolt in the pit of your stomach. He did that a few more times, enjoying the noises and how your face looked from his actions.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be in you" he sighed, lining himself up at your entrance.

You didn’t say anything, or get the chance too. For Mattheo began to push into you. Slowly the tip entered you, followed by inch after inch. He growled at how tight you were around him. But eventually he pushed all the way in, bottoming out, fully inside you. He waited a few minutes, letting you adjust to him and relax.

After a few minutes Mattheo started to pull out till the tip was just inside you, and with a snap of his hips, he pushed back inside. Over and over he did this at a slow pace. Your hands gripped his hair and shoulder, back arching, clothed breasts pushing up against him. You felt so good, like heaven, just like he remembered but better.

There you were, in a dead end of a deserted hall, with Mattheo fucking you up against a wall that was just concealed from sight. You should have protested the public setting, but when he felt so good, and made you feel so good, you couldn’t do anything but take it.

With a harsh snap of his hips, you bit back a loud moan, for he’d reached that spot with in you. And with every second or third thrust, Mattheo was hitting it repeatedly. You buried your face in his shoulder, holding onto him tighter, a small whimper leaving your lips. Knowing how good he was making you feel, Mattheo picked up his pace, chasing your releases.

You felt that coil in your pit tightening with each thrust, your sex tightening around him every time after hitting that spot deep within you. You both were a panting and sweating mess, lost in this moment and the other.

“You're mine" Mattheo groaned, thrust harsher into you. “Tell me you’re mine!”

You moaned against his shoulder, from his thrust and words. Being so sex drunk, your better judgement was out the window. “I-I'm yours" you moaned.

“I can’t hear you" he groaned, gripping your ass with both hands as he thrust deeply and moaning.

You let out a small cry when he did that. “I-I'm yours!”

Hearing you better, Mattheo grinned. Pleased with your answer. Without saying anything else, he focused on getting you both over the edge. He focused on his thrusts, long and hard, and trying to hit that spot over and over. That coil in your pit tightened with every thrust. You found yourself tell him you were close. So he worked harder. Soon his thrusts got sloppy, but he kept at it.

When you finally came, you told him just before that coil in your snapped. You tightened around him, moaning Mattheo's name and riding out your release. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Mattheo finally hit his own release, a groan leaving his throat. He thrusted a few more times as he coats your insides with his release. Mattheo buried himself inside you, body leaning against you as you both tried to catch your breathes.

It was silence, except for your soft panting. Mattheo rest his forehead against your shoulder, while the hand in his locks ran through them. He was savouring this moment. While you wondered what this meant. You were confused by his want for you to say you were his. Was it something to help him get off? Yet you were unsure of voicing that question.

After a while Mattheo pulled back, and he removed himself from you, covering you back up with your panties. He helped lower you to your feet, which were a bit shaky. But once he was sure you were standing, he put himself back in his pants and zipped them back up. It was silent between you both, for you, you were unsure while Mattheo was satisfied and content.

Feeling self-conscious, you picked up your bag and were about to leave. “Um, a-alright" you stuttered. Unsure of what to say after a quickie in the hall.

You had just moved past Mattheo, when he grabbed your wrist. “Where are you running off to love?”

You sighed. “I told you, I’m not your love”.

Not hearing a retort or him releasing your wrist, you turned to see a knowing smirk on Mattheo's face. He moved closer to you, hand moving to lock with yours, as he pulled you closer.

“Oh, but you are love” he said in that overly sweet tone. “You said it yourself, you’re mine”.

Your face flushed. While all words left you. That was the moment you realised you had unknowingly given yourself to Mattheo Riddle. You were his. And he was completely yours. Slowly a smile crossed your lips. You decided to accept your fate. He’s not so bad.

[readingiskeepingmegoing]

I have thoughts on the relationship of Acacius and Lucilla. 

I have thoughts on the relationship of Acacius and Lucilla. 

!!Spoiler Warning!!

If you haven't seen the movie yet, maybe swerve this one until you have.

I am in no way a writer, and this is essentially just a word jumble that fell out of my brain. Please be gentle with me.  

Massive thanks to @schnarfer and @jessthebaker for listening to me yell and sharing your thoughts with me. Your insights were invaluable.    We see Acacius and Lucilla deeply in love in the movie. But I think they came to this over time.     

In the flashback scene of Lucilla taking Lucius from the arena after Maximus and Commodus have died, it appears to be Acacius who is helping him onto the horse. So from this we can infer that the pair have known each other for a long time, and that Acacius is loyal to Lucilla, just as he was loyal to Maximus. It makes me wonder if Maximus had maybe sent word to him to protect Lucilla and Lucius. A role that Acacius take seriously and sees through to the end. 

  Lucilla is held in high regard by the Roman people and even called Queen, and that gives her power, but it also makes her dangerous to the incumbent Emperor/s, and keeps her in constant personal danger.    Acacius was trained by Maximus. He clearly remains loyal to him even after his death. The Emperor after Commodus would no doubt have been suspicious of him and anyone who had served closely with Maximus. If one General could defeat an Emperor, then why not another?     I see the Emperor initially using Acacius as Lucilla's jailer. "Keep her in line or we will know you are not loyal" sort of thing. While also making sure that Lucilla knew that she was being watched. Not even safe to confide in her maids.    There will no doubt have been a bit of resentment there, especially from Lucilla, who doesn't know what lengths Acacius is going to, to keep them both alive and as free as possible.    Acacius falls in love with Lucilla before she falls in love with him. He may have known about Lucilla and Maxmus's relationship. And it is easy to see why he would have been attracted to her. The Emperor/s probably would have noticed a change in how he is with her, how he looked at her and so the manipulation would have changed. "Do what we say or we will send your wife to you on the battlefield, wouldn't it be terrible if something happened to her on the journey to you?" 

During time away from war, Acacius and Lucilla may have found their relationship to be strained in the beginning. He will have been so much lower in rank that her, the only thing they would have really have had in common at the start would have been their love of Maximus. Over time cordiality will have grown between them, deepening to a mutual respect.    Acacius comes home from battle grievously wounded, and that is when Lucilla realises that she loves him. The Emperor/s send nurses to care for him, and she sends them all away and tends him herself, pouring all of her newly discovered love into healing him, calling on her childhood nurse who is skilled in the arts of wise women. And during this time they get to truly know each other and their passionate love grows in earnest.    

I also feel as though Lucilla will not have wanted more children. She will not have wanted to hand the Emperor/s more leverage over her, nor have wanted to see her children chewed up and spit out by what Rome becomes. So Acacius respects her choice and encourages her to get whatever contraceptive remedies are most effective from her nurse, so that he can be her husband in every way. 

  They clearly have no secrets, he knew that Maximus was Lucius's father. He did not hesitate to try to free Lucius at Lucilla's request. This, to me, makes his sacrifice in the arena more heartbreaking. He is trying to protect his beloved wife from losing her son again, and upholding his loyalty to the man who trained him.  

If you made it all the way to the end, thank you for bearing with the rantings and ramblings of a madwoman.

Tagging because you asked so sweetly: @ghotifishreads @jennaispunk @missredherring

@noisynightmarepoetry @schnarfer @jessthebaker

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 14

Trigger Warnings: Chan is a meanie, angst

"What do you mean she was gone from your sight, Minho!" Chan shouted. "She wasn't supposed to leave. I told her. I don't know why you're blaming me! She would have been fine on her own in the covenstead. It's not my fault she is undisciplined." Minho growled in frustration. "You're right. She is undisciplined and reckless, but you should have kept an eye on her, Min. You, of all people, should have known that, " Chan said in frustration.

They had been arguing the past twenty minutes about Y/N following the potential stalker to get a note. Y/N could have easily been jumped or kidnapped. This was so far her stupidest decision and quite frankly Chan was getting fed up with it. Even some of the wolves had commented after today. They understood her recklessness with Ateez because she had Hyunjin and Seungmin, but going solo was something Chan wouldn't tolerate. He had to discipline her, she had been here long enough. "Tell Y/N to come to my office," Chan gruffly said to Minho who nodded and walked off to find Y/N who was currently sitting with Changbin on the sofa. "Chan wants to see you in his office," Minho said as he walked past the living room to head to the cleaning cupboard. "What. Why?" Y/N asked. "Don't know," Minho answered, except he did know, but that was something for her to find out.

When Y/N got up and walked towards Chan's office her blood ran cold. It felt too eerily quiet and she didn't like it. It reminded her of going to see Hongjoong or Wooyoung when she was in trouble and she hated the feeling. It made her feel weak and alone. Right now she didn't want to even knock on the door and go in, but she had to. "Come in," Chan called. His voice was colder than normal. It was distant. Y/N entered the room to see Chan on his computer, typing away. It was almost as if he didn't see her or notice her existence, which wasn't true in the slightest. He was purposely making her feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to understand why she was being punished. "Channie, is everything okay?" Y/N asked meekly. "You tell me little wolf," Chan answered. His arms crossed as he looked at her. "I know it was stupid." Y/N sighed. "But honestly, I wanted to know what they wanted." "Is that all you have to say?" Chan asked. He was shocked at her mere apology.

Chan nodded his head, thinking for a moment before he got up to lean on his desk. His arms were crossed and his chest was puffed out. He was dominating her. Showing her who was the alpha and who wasn't. "Now listen here, Y/N. You have defied every wolf since you've been here. The first time. Fine. I can accept that. You are new to your role. The second time. Alright. The fourth and fifth? Seriously, it's ridiculous at this point, even for an omega like yourself." Chan's voice was low as he emphasised each word so it was branded in her brain. "How many times do we have to keep dealing with you being reckless? Huh? I'm fed up with it because you're not learning your lesson and I'm not punishing my wolves any longer." Chan stated. "There mine too!" Y/N whispered. "I honestly am sorry. I didn't think." "They are not your wolves. You are theirs. You're their omega. That is all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Stop acting like an alpha who can take charge because you're not good at it." Chan answered back. His eyes glancing at her submissive head. She was cowering but also defying him. "Look at me Y/N," Chan called out. " From now on you will not leave this house, until I care to let you out. You will redo your nest because I've seen to it broken. If you defy me once more, you will go downstairs." "Ok," Y/N muttered. Her eyes fixated on the piece of dirt on the floor. She felt embarrassed, humiliated. Worst of all it was him denouncing her completely and destroying her nest that she worked hard on.

When Y/N reached her bedroom her heart shattered. Her nest was gone. Her bedsheets were moved. Blankets were thrown everywhere. Items had been stolen. She felt sick. She couldn't believe he actually did that to her, so Y/N stormed out of her room to find him. "Where the fuck is Chan?" Y/N yelled, frightening Jisung and Jeongin. "He left for work. What's wrong?" Jeongin asked. "My nest. Is broken." Y/N yelled, making Jeongin look down. He had heard Chan was going to punish her but he didn't think he would take it that far. "That was Hyunjin. He broke it. Why don't me and Jisung help you fix it agai-" "Don't bother," Y/N growled as she stomped upstairs straight into Hyunjin's first. Y/N headed towards his wardrobe, pulling out his Versace clothes and ripping them apart, before starting on his bed. She ripped everything apart. Whether that was literally or metaphorically it didn't matter, she was hurt and angry. After she was satisfied she headed towards Chan's office to pull his books off the shelf and messed up his paperwork. She did anything that satisfied her anger.

Jeongin caught her and begged her to stop, stating it wouldn't help but she didn't listen. She was on a mission to relieve her emotions. Jeongin didn't know what to do except follow her pitifully. He felt sad for her. She worked hard on her nest and now it was shattered. "Baby, please don't do this. You'll make it worse." Jeongin cried out again. He wanted it to stop but the wolf growled at him. "At least let me fix your nest. Make it all better." Jeongin begged but the female wolf didn't care. "I honestly couldn't care less," Y/N growled as she shoved him out of the way. Jeongin sulked and walked away back downstairs to Seungmin who hugged the youngest wolf. He was feeling conflicted. Jeongin wanted to call Chan and tell him what he did was wrong but at the same time, it was his fault. Jeongin was the one who told Chan he wasn't happy with her risking things and now he got her punished. "Maybe you shouldn't have done that," Seungmin whispered as he held the younger wolf. "I didn't know he would destroy her nest did I?" Jeongin whined. Jeongin sat up and rubbed his eyes when he heard a bang along with a crash. "What was that?" Jeongin asked. "I think that was your room," Seungmin stated, causing Jeongin to cringe.

Felix came running down into the living room as he saw his mate's angry face going in and out of people's rooms. "What's wrong with baby?" Felix asked as he bit his nails in distress. "Chan punished her for disobedience by destroying her nest-" "HER NEST!" Felix shouted. "That's her safe place. That's something we built together." "I know Lix. I know but we can't do anything now." Jeongin stated. "We can. We can make her happy. We can fix her nest." Felix stressed. "Felix do not go up those stairs," Jeongin commanded causing the beta to whimper, he was hurting because she was hurting. "I have a feeling Chan is not going to like us if we interfere," Jeongin stated worriedly. There was nothing they could do. "Can I at least comfort her? Please." Felix whispered. Before Jeongin could even give permission the beta ran up the stairs and pulled the female wolf into his room, allowing her to growl, hiss and cry. Felix wanted her to let out all the emotions she felt so he could comfort her, but it didn't last long, because Chan came back. "Y/N GET HERE NOW!"

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627 @maggicotton @jellymochii @itzreetal987 @jennibahng @vampkittenb82 @catlove83 @thatgirlangelb @hyunmikim @skzdreamer13 @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @tsunderelintz @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx @fr34k4c1dr41n

~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~

[elvensorceress]

very late wip wednesday that is not wednesday at all I'm sorry but have snickerdoodles of longing?

@daisyssousa @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz @hippolotamus @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @singitforthegirls @bekkachaos @sunflower-eddiediaz @hotshotsxyz @epicbuddieficrecs @daffi-990 @blutterlie @exhuastedpigeon @thelikesofus @livinginsunnyhell 💕 On your left you will see ridiculous pining idiots sharing a bed and being oblivious 👍 and Eddie being Completely Normal about Buck having Feelings(tm) for someone…

Buck lies down and turns onto his side toward Eddie. “Just in my head.”

Eddie reaches out and runs his fingertips along Buck’s forehead. “You still thinking about the breakup? Because he wasn’t good enough for you. No one is. You deserve someone who gets how special you are. You’re a catch.”

Buck huffs but the hint of a smile touches him. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Haven’t thought about him in a while actually.”

That’s something at least. “Good. He didn’t know how lucky he was.”

Eddie doesn’t know why other than his constant urge to be affectionate especially when someone needs cheering up, but as soon as he thinks about how he should withdraw and stop touching Buck, his hand has other ideas. And he has to dip his fingers into Buck’s curls and rub his head.

They’re so soft and so perfect at this length. They could even be longer and Eddie could bury his hand in more of them. 

The look Buck gives him is too piercing. For a second, it strikes through Eddie like lightning. But it’s gone in the next instant. 

Buck noticeably swallows hard. “I don’t know. Maybe he was unlucky.”

“If you’re going to insult my best friend,” Eddie warns and contemplates making a fist in Buck’s hair for emphasis on the warning. He doesn’t. But he does think about it. 

“No, I didn’t mean like that.” Buck leans into Eddie’s hand and smiles, just a little. “Not, ‘he’s so unlucky being with me’ but like, what if— what if he was right? When he said he knew he wasn’t my last. What if he saw something? Or noticed something?”

Eddie’s thumb wanders and brushes over Buck’s cheekbone, all absentminded instinct. “What kind of something?” 

Buck’s eyes flutter and close for a moment before he takes Eddie’s hand and holds it still against his own chest. “S-so-something like, something I didn’t know. Or didn’t realize. I didn’t know I liked him at first. I had no idea that’s what I was feeling. And— a-and what if that happened again? What if he knew I wanted someone else? Or that I have feelings for someone who isn’t him? And that’s how he knew he wasn’t my last.” 

Someone else? 

There’s someone else? 

Eddie doesn’t know why. But he can’t breathe. Or move. He looks at his own hand, happily, eagerly pressed to Buck’s chest over his heart. “You—” he says but loses the rest of the words. All he can do is echo. “Someone else? There’s someone? A new someone? Another someone?”

Buck shrugs, waves it off, doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. “N-no. No, but. I don’t know. Hypothetically. I guess. What if that were the case? What if that’s what he thought? And that’s why he ended it.”

What if his ex thought Buck wanted someone else and that’s why he got dumped? It’s plausible? The more concerning thing about this however is, “You’re not thinking about calling him again. Are you? You’re not going to try and get back with him? Please tell me that’s not what this is. You’ve been working so hard. We’ve baked so many things.”

Buck turns pink and shakes his head. “No, that’s not— it’s not what I mean. That’s not the point. He’s not the point. I was just wondering, you know? Since he realized I was crushing on him but totally unaware of it. Maybe it happened again. Maybe he knew before I did. What I feel. In theory, I mean. He knew I have feelings for someone else, so he had to break it off. So— s-so? That would make the whole situation unlucky. For him. Or both of us. If we were both having unrequited feelings for different people.”

That’s— sensible? Also so much to think about. How can Eddie think about any of it. How can there be another person already? That’s three in less than a year. Eddie’s had three relationships in his whole life. How does anyone manage feeling like that? Feeling and then not feeling or feeling something else while still stuck in the first feeling or trying so hard to feel something when there were no feelings whatsoever and you were already thinking that feelings were horrible— it’s too much. Way too complicated. “I guess. That would be unlucky.”

“Right? Unlucky.” Buck nods. Somehow with the energy of a nervous, twitchy squirrel. 

“Is there someone else? Another someone?” Eddie asks again. Because he can’t stop thinking he’s also missed something. Or everything. When did Buck meet someone new? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned? Why, again, are they back to crushes and this person I just met five seconds ago really sees me and unrequited— wait. “There is someone. How would you know it’s unrequited unless you have someone specific in mind?”

Buck lets go of Eddie’s hand. In fact, he moves Eddie’s hand back to his side of the bed and then deliberately lets go of it. “I was just wondering. It’s hypothetical. There isn’t anyone. I’m tired, aren’t you tired? We should sleep, yeah? Goodnight, Eds.” He turns away and switches off the lights and stays on his side with his back to Eddie.

Eddie pokes him in the back where he’s sensitive and ticklish. “You’re a fucking terrible liar.”

Buck bats his hand away and yawns. “Aaahhhmmmm not. So sleepy. Not lying. Sleeping.” 

Are they the fourteen year olds now? Eddie tugs the blankets around himself and wriggles on his back to get comfortable. “Whatever. You brought it up.”

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 8

Writer's Note: Short and Sweet this evening! One final shot - Don't forget to submit your answer for our poll Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear // Mild violence // Mild kissing // Mild indications of sleeping together (nothing overly descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Readers over the age of 18 only please

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

Geta turned over from his side to meet Aurelia’s face, only to find she wasn’t there. Perplexed, he got out of bed and put on his robe to go and find his wife. On walking out the door, he found Alba attending to basic chores around the hall.

“Alba, where is she? Where is Aurelia?” he was growing concerned as she never left without letting him know where she was.

“Ah my Lord, someone came to fetch her this morning? Macrinus, I believe was his name?”

Geta breathed in deeply and straightened his posture. He and Aurelia had a long discussion last night over her stance on Macrinus and his leering way of imposing on their household.

“She left unaccompanied? You let her?”

Alba didn’t know what to say. She knew Aurelia was a woman of her own right, taking little heed of any advice she was give. “Sire, I-”

“Enough Alba. Where did they go?”

“To the Gladiators.”

***

“You put great work into your men, Macrinus, no?”

“Oh yes, Empress. Great work indeed. These men came from nothing. I have made them into the stallions they are today.” Aurelia tried her best to hide her disgust at the lack of empathy that this man had.

“Tell me, Empress, if you will. Do you trust your husband?”

Aurelia stopped walking and stared at the man, “Why do you ask such foolish questions? Of course I trust him.” Macrinus nodded his head, “Why, do you have concern that I should not?” She knew his game. She was much more intelligent than these men give her credit for.

“Well my Lady, it is just that – ah, forgive me, I should have said nothing.”

“No, no, Macrinus. Tell me now. I demand it.”

“Do you know of his plans for Ostia, your hometown?”

Aurelia furled her eyebrows, “No, I do not. But you have began, so you will finish.”

Macrinus sighed, taking Aurelia by the arm, walking further. “He wishes to build a further palace, right by the water. Great fortresses to blockade and guard Rome’s great land. It means that all who live there will be displaced. I wonder what will happen to your dear Mater and Pater. It’s all very sad. I’m surprised he has not discussed this with you, after all you are the Empress and have a right to know.” Aurelia nodded her head, why did Geta not tell you of such plans?

“Thank you for your kind service Macrinus.”

“Anytime, my lady.”

They walked further down the hall before they were met with a searingly angry Geta. His long cloak swept in the wind, with each thunderous step he took along the uneven tiles. He bit his lip as hard as he could in a bid to contain his emotions.

“Macrinus, I see you have found my wife. How are we seeing today in so?”

Macrinus grinned at the Emperor. He could see he had gotten under his skin. “My Lord, I have a meeting with your brother – I think it best for you to join also. We have good news for the future of Rome!” He clapped Geta on the shoulder, to which Geta grimaced at his wife, grabbing her by the arm. “Let us meet Caracalla, and hear this good news.” He leant down and growled into Aurelia’s ear, “Never leave me again without telling me where you are going.”

Aurelia looked up to him to see him extremely angry, she curtly nodded and carried on walking to meet Caracalla in the main event space. However, she was as equally angry with him and would discuss the matter later.

***

Caracalla stood entwined with several people, all kissing various parts of his body. He shooed them away once Macrinus and Geta entered. He didn’t notice Aurelia behind but once she emerged he announced, “Ah brother, good to see you have brought your dog with you, yet again.” Geta looked at Caracalla with only fire in his eyes, “Brother, it would serve you well to keep that mouth of yours shut and stop with the degradation of my wife.”

Caracalla laughed, “Oooh brother please, calm. It was merely a joke. Anyway, it is good she is here. She needs to know of the new and good news!”

Geta questions, “What good news?”

“Macrinus is eligible for Senate promotion.”

“Excuse me?” Geta exclaimed. “Brother, may I speak with you a moment? In private.”

The two took themselves off to the exterior balcony, while Macrinus announced to Aurelia, “Some people just don’t know when to stop, Aurelia.” She perked her ears to this, “Yes, I would agree. I have seen so much destroyed from people not knowing their boundaries. But, do tell, how have you experienced?”

“Ah I shouldn’t say,”

She interrupted him, “Yes, as you keep alluding to Macrinus, yet spill all. Do tell.” She affirmed confidently.

He smirked at her, “Senator Thraex. He is a man who, let’s just say, has a want. A problem. He borrowed quite a bit of money off me, but cannot pay it back.” Aurelia was about to speak before Macrinus began again, “You see we found a solution – I now own his home. He has nothing. That’s what we need in Rome, Aurelia. Men who get what they want, and ensure nothing in their way stops them.” Aurelia narrowed her eyes, opened her mouth before the loud clashing of voices and objects stopped her. She rose from her seat to walk over to where Geta and Caracalla were. The door suddenly flung open with Caracalla rushing out, tears streaming his face, “MACRINUS, COME NOW. WE’RE LEAVING. GAMES ARE CANCELLED TODAY. YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING BROTHER!” Macrinus rose, bowed to Aurelia and followed Caracalla.

Looking into the room she saw Geta like she had never seen him before. Enraged. Red faced. Veins popping out in places where she never thought a vein would run. He roughly took her by the hand, muttering words to himself that Aurelia couldn’t make out. Geta took her to his quarters rather than hers. He sent all hands away, he just wanted the space to him and Aurelia.

As soon as they were on their own, he sat down on the large seat in front of him and broke down to cry. Aurelia knelt before him.

“Dear one, what is wrong?” Aurelia asked softly.

He looked to her with such sorrow in his eyes. “I thought something happened to you this morning, when you weren’t there. I am sorry for the way I acted toward you earlier. I was rushed.”

Aurelia took his hands, “Geta, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left without saying anything but I didn’t want to disturb your slumber. You look very sweet in your sleep.” She giggled to the Emperor, to which he wrinkled his nose in return and kissed the back of her hand. “I promise, from now on tell you everything and even bring you with me if I must.”

Geta nodded and continued, “Now I have Caracalla to worry about…”

Aurelia sighed, “Only now you have to worry about him?” she jibed.

“Aurelia, this is serious. I fear the disease my brother has of the loins has spread to his brain. He is saying the most ridiculous things, and agreeing to the most ridiculous ventures. I really think that Macrinus has had a helping hand here. My brother is very impressionable.”

Aurelia paused then began, “Speaking of Macrinus, he was telling me of your venture you want to see through for Ostia.”

Geta looked at her with a puzzled look, “What plans?”

She relayed what Macrinus had told her. Geta began, “Aurelia I have never said such things – why would I want my palace at sea level anyhow? Surely that would entice more to invade Rome if they knew the leader was there at such easy access?”

Aurelia paused to think. He had a point. Until it clicked, “He’s trying to drive a wedge between us. He wants me to think ill of you.”

Geta was to begin again before they were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Marcus Acacius busts through, “Emperor, Empress, forgive me for the intrusion, but something has happened at the Senate. It’s Macrinus. He has been appointed in as Senator over Thraex. He is the new higher power.”

Aurelia’s eyes shot wide, with Geta clearing his throat.

“We must discuss how we are to solve this problem. Immediately.”

Part 9

[butlervibesonly]

𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 | Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n's having the time of the month, definitely not feeling good. But that is something Austin couldn't help with.

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : mentions of period, period pain, ...

It is that time of month again. You wake up to a sharp pain in your lower belly, or so called cramps. Oh, how you hate those. You groan quietly, trying not to to wake Austin up. You reach for the phone on the nightstand with your hand, looking out the window next to Austin's part of the bed. The sun has barely risen yet.

5:13 am. That is way too early. As soon as you put the phone back on the table, your lower stomach cramps again – and that is a sign for you to get up and get some painkillers. You carefully pull off yourself the comforter that you and Austin share and carefully slide out of bed.

When you arrive to the kitchen, you search for the painkillers, and as soon as you find them you pour yourself a glass of water, swallowing the pill. You're probably already awake enough, but it's still very early in the morning, so you go back to the bedroom.

Austin lies peacefully on his back, only in pajama pants so his bare chest shines in the morning breeze. His lips are little parted as he lets out quiet and slow snores. You lay back in bed with a smile. It will take some time for the pill to help and the cramps will continue, hopefully not too long.

Well, you wish for not too long. Another wave of cramps hits you and at this time you whimper more loudly than you would like to. Curling on the bed, you pull your legs to your stomach, shutting your eyes.

That obviously wakes Austin up. He blinks few times, trying to get out of sleep into reality. When he turns his head, he sees you curled up on the bed. "Darlin', what's wrong?" he asks, his voice groggy still so soft. You look at him, whimpering again.

"Um, it's the time, again..." you explain, curling back to your position. Austin hums in understanding. What he actually does is pulling you closer to him. "Did you took a painkiller?" Austin asks, his hand rubbing your back.

"Mhm, few minutes ago," you mumble. "It's going to take forever before it starts any effect!" you complain and Austin chuckles quietly. He turns so he lies on his side, facing you. "Let me help before it starts working."

He runs his hand through the covers as he reaches your stomach. Lifting up your shirt a little he actually spreads his hand on your belly, rubbing on gently circles. You start to feel the warm his hand provides and it feels so better.

"Is it better?" Austin asks, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Yea... Thank you..." He smiles in the kiss, finding you so adorable. "I felt like there was a demon fighting inside of me," you say, jokingly. "My poor girl," Austin runs his finger through your hair.

You both eventually fall asleep again, in each others arms, his hand still placed on your belly.

~ Later that morning ~

When you wake up again, this time it's the sun shining in your eyes. Looking at the bed, Austin is no longer here. He actually notices you're awake so he sits beside you. You can see he's fully clothed, a smile on his face.

"Morning, baby." he pats your leg. You smile, happy to see him. Your stomach no longer hurts but you feel more tired. "What time is it?" you ask, stretching yourself. "Around 9 am. I went shopping and got you some tea that should help with the pain, your favorite chocolate and also…” he pulls something out from behind his back.

"Some flowers." you look at the bouquet of little roses. "Awh! You shouldn't have, Aus!" your heart melts. Austin always knows how to make you happy when you're feeling horrible, and it's no different now.

"Why shouldn't I? I'd do anything for my girl." he plants a kiss on your lips. "Are you feeling better?" Austin asks, placing the flowers on your nightstand. "Definitely better than earlier." you say, sitting up. He pulls you in his arms, kissing you once more again.

"You'll be relaxing today, okay?" he says dominantly, making you smile. "Aight', doctor Butler."

"No, I mean it. You deserve a rest, understand?" You nod. You two spend the morning with breakfast in bed, watching some shows as Austin takes care of you.