#would just want the two of you to find happiness no matter what

[dollwrites]

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ v-day weekend blurbs ( caleb )

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, mirror sex, exhibitionism ( filming ), caleb gets rough, size kink, praise kink, stand-fucking, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ i stared at caleb doing one handed pushups for like a minute solid and hit a blinker. here’s the result. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“Hey, no moving…” you murmur in a pointed, accusatory tone the very moment you feel Caleb’s hips buck forward. your breath caught in your throat as he does; his cock notching another inch into your silken core none-too gently. “I told you to let me do it.” puffing out your lower lip in a childish pout, you cast a glance over your shoulder, peering up at a grinning Caleb, raising both arms, palms out in mock defeat.

you blinked, needing to pause to look over his countenance. sweat-dampened brown tendrils stuck to his forehead and against his temples and the very edges of his cheeks. speaking of his cheeks, there were violet in hue, with diamonds of perspiration glistening against the apples. his jaw slung, swollen lips parted to accommodate his heavy breathing, you could even see the vein on the side of his neck bulge and throb when you clench up, milking his cock in a warm vice.

“What’s the matter? Do I play too rough for your movie?” he challenged with a smile.

“Always,” you reply, squirming on your feet to welcome in his fresh, thick inch. it took some stirring, and a whole lot of primal pleasure as his heavily veined cock rubbed against your sensitive, spongy walls, to find a comfortable enough position for you to keep going. the hand gripping your phone tightens it, and you look back to the mirror, standing less than six feet from it, to ensure the angle was still perfect. you raise the phone just a quarter of an inch higher, and spread your legs wider. “I want it to be… pretty.” you settled on an almost laughable adjective, but it seemed the most fitting, as you glance up at him from the glass. the two of you lock eyes, and you shudder at the eroticism of it all. you were clad in lacy lingerie ( though, however skewed it may be, it still counted ), your makeup done, and you had chosen the best possible setting and position to ensure that you would be able to review the footage while you railed yourself on his cock— looking into the mirror. but, it wasn’t simply for your own vanity, and you remind him of that as you start to move again, pushing your ass back and forth to take the familiar inches. “You know,” you continue, trying to be as casual as possible as you explain, though your sentence is continuously marred by choking gasps and happy moans, “f—for when you’re away in Skyhaven— shhh—shit! — you’ll have something… ahhh… nice to watch…!”

“Sorry, baby girl,” his words were thick and slurred with the ever-so-subtle etching upwards of his mouth in a crooked grin. “Just couldn’t help myself, wanted to get that cute, lil’ yelp outta you. Won’t happen again, promise.” but even as he drew a cross over his heart, you could still see that twinkle of mischief in his eye. one of your brows quirk up, as if to say: i don’t believe you, and Caleb reads it immediately. with a husky chuckle, he shook his head. “Lil’ thing’s so damn suspicious.” however, he still hooked his arms behind his back in submission. widening his own, already imposing stance, you feel like a worm dangling on his hook between the gap he provided. then, he straightened his back, standing at attention. his biceps bulge, the hard and thick muscle pads of his arms dancing beneath his skin as he flexes them, more for you than anything else. it was a silent reminder of his strength— the power he was willingly giving up to you. “There, that better, baby?” he asked, his gaze softening as it roved over your back. the clasp of your bra was still held together, even though the shoulder straps had been discarded, and the weight of your breast spilled out of the loosened cups, swaying hypnotically with every move you make. still, that clasp taunted him, and he had the sudden and wicked urge to lunge forward and unclip it with his teeth rose to the surface of his resolve. he resigned, however, grinding his teeth together as his eyes followed the shape of your spine downward, instead.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised quietly, his brows knit close together. your pace was slow enough to frustrate him beyond measure, a steady rhythm that was a sweetly agonizing form of torture he’d only ever endure for you. “Takin’ my big cock just how you want it,” Caleb let out a low growl. against the small of his back, his fingers twitched and jerked with the desire to grip your hips tight enough to leave their shape imprinted in your skin. he shook away the thought, and clenched his fists tightly. “Fuck yourself on me, baby girl, take whatcha need.. Ah-hah, that tight, little cunny ready for another inch? Because I’m dyin’ to give it to her.” Caleb’s thighs tightened, a dull tingle settling against the base of his spine.

“You’re already so deep,” you whine back, glancing down between your legs. your cunt drooled as you speared yourself on to Caleb, over and over, and you use your free hand to dip between your thighs and scrub at their apex, strumming your swollen clit to the same speed of your riding, mewling in pleasure. “I— I can cum, just like this…” you trail off, your eyeline fluttering back to the phone screen. you could see the contortion of pleasure on your own face, and you had to admit, it was sexy to watch yourself get closer and closer. you had no doubt that Caleb would spend many a lonely night, watching this video over again, gripping his greedy cock and wishing to feel your tight cunt instead.

“Lil’ fucking tease…” he growled into your hair on the crown of your hair. the scent of your shampoo still lingered there, and it made his eyelids flutter. “I need more.”

and just like that, your control of the situation, and of Caleb, dissipated. he sucked in a ragged breath, large hands releasing themselves from their subservient position and grope at your thighs, hooking against the backs of your knees to sweep you off your feet.

“Caleb!” yipping in surprise, your phone slips from your grasp and clatters on the floor between his feet. fortunately, with this new angle, the video captures the visage of you, spread open, and Caleb already rutting like a man possessed into you. his balls, though tight with impending orgasm, are still heavy enough to spank against your clit as he pulls your body down to meet his rabid thrusting. “That’s—!”

with your knees dug into your own chest, your eyes follow the shape of your spread legs, and the mesmerizing, helpless flop of your stocking-clad feet in the air. it felt good, really good, to be fucked so animalistically, to be locked against his powerful body, at the mercy of his whims.

“Just hush up and take it now, baby girl. You’ve had your fun,” Caleb chuckles as he lowers you down to meet the upward pounding, his hips snapping against yours. “— made your cutesy, lil’ video, you got to ride for a lil’ bit, but now you get to just sit pretty and take exactly what I’m gonna give ya.” Caleb pulled you flush to his lap, burying himself balls-deep in your weeping cunt with a happy snarl tearing through his throat. his eyes flick to the mirror, “Look how precious you are, all dolled up, gettin’ ruined, all for me?” your gaze follows his, and your cheeks warm as humility rises within them. he’s right, though. even you couldn’t help but be wooed by your fucked-out state, babbling as he bounces you up and down on his cock. then, Caleb chuckles, a rough and strangled sound in comparison to his usual timbre. his gaze had listed downward, to catch the sight of the camera on the floor, capturing your decimation from a most sordid angle. “Oh, fuck yeah, I’m gonna love watchin’ your puffy, lil’ pussy get stuffed full from this angle.”

[theemporium]

lukey getting his girlfriend a promise ring but most definitely forgets to tell his brothers so when she pulls up to the lake house with a ring on her ring finger they’re jumping to conclusions?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Did you know?” 

Quinn blinked, frowning at the way Jack pushed into his room and quickly shut the door behind him before spinning back around to glare at him. He was almost tempted to tease him over his odd behaviour before he noticed the genuine hurt and panic in his brother’s gaze.

“Know what?” Quinn asked. 

“That Luke is fucking engaged,” Jack hissed out, muscles in his jaw twitching at the pressure of his teeth gritting together. “Why the fuck did he not say anything? Why the fuck did you not say anything? I literally live with him, how the hell did he not tell me anything?” 

Quinn blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Luke is not engaged.” 

“My mistake, the huge fucking ring on his girlfriend’s left ring finger gave me the wrong impression,” Jack snapped back, pissed off and upset and feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of his younger brother—his baby brother—being engaged when he barely knows how to work a damn washing machine.

Quinn choked out a surprised noise. “The what?”

“The fucker got engaged and didn’t even tell us,” Jack hissed, beginning to pace around the room. “Oh god, Mom is gonna kill him. Mom is gonna kill us.”

Quinn frowned. “Why did he not tell us he was even thinking about proposing?” 

Jack huffed. “When the fuck did he even get engaged?” 

Quinn shot his brother a blank look. “They just came back from a weekend away. Take a fucking guess.” 

Jack’s nose scrunched up. “In Ohio. Who the fuck gets engaged in Ohio?”

Quinn let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he quickly stood up from his spot on the bed. “We need to talk to him.”

“What the fuck do we say?” Jack questioned, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. "Congratulations?"

“What else can we say?” Quinn retorted, shaking his head. “That we love and support him but what the fuck is he thinking getting engaged and not telling anybody?” 

Jack shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Jack, you can’t say shit like that.”

“Can’t say shit like what?” 

Both boys snapped their heads around to find Luke standing in the doorway, a stick of beef jerky in his hand that he was currently munching on as he looked between the two of them with an odd expression. 

“What? What did I miss?” Luke frowned. 

Despite the initial hurt and anger he felt minutes ago, Jack couldn’t stop himself from darting forward and dragging his little brother into a hug. “You’re a dick for not saying anything to us but I am happy for you, even if I think you’re a little young. We love and support you no matter what, bud.”

Luke’s arms awkwardly hung by his side before he slowly patted Jack’s back. “Thanks?” 

Quinn looked a little more pensive, a softer expression on his face. “You could have told us, you know? We would have helped you pick out a ring or whatever else you needed.” 

“Oh,” Luke’s eyes widened a little before he shrugged. “It was no biggie, Bratter knew a few good places around Jersey so I was able to get it before we left after playoffs. I didn’t think either of you would really care.” 

Jack quickly stepped back, the anger suddenly back and rearing. “Woah, hold the fuck up, Bratter knew you were getting engaged before me? Your brother? What the fuck?” 

“Engaged?” Luke repeated with a look of confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You’re engaged!” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “I saw the ring!”

Luke blinked before snorting. “It’s a promise ring, dumbass.”

Quinn sighed.

“Oh,” was all Jack managed to get out. 

“I mean, I love her but like,” Luke shrugged, suddenly looking young and sheepish. “That is a big step, you know? But I’m serious about her. I wanted her to know that too.” 

“Right,” Quinn sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temples before smiling a little. “We are happy for you. Both of you. She’s good for you.”

Luke smiled a little.

Jack nodded. “And that is one hell of a promise ring, bud.”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as he already began to turn to leave the room.

But Jack continued. “I mean, not that it would hurt your bank account since I buy you everything—”

“That’s what big brothers are for!”

.

[flwrstqr]

警告 : ❪ VALENTINES ❫ PUBLIC DISPLAY AFFECTION ── 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝗂 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾.

𝓲. showing public displays of affection with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

notes. . 다니 ⸝⸝ happy valentines day everyone~ hope you feel loved when reading!! my second valentines on tumblr (> <)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung has no shame, absolutely none, and it shows when you’re standing in line at a coffee shop, pretending not to notice the way his hand rests lightly on your waist. “you know,” he begins, leaning in closely, “if the barista doesn't call you the prettiest thing they've seen all day, i might have to correct them.” you roll your eyes, biting back a grin, but he catches it anyway, his smirk widening. “ah, there it is. my favorite smile,” he teases, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret meant for only the two of you. people are definitely staring now, but he doesn’t care. “heeseung,” you mutter, half-pleading, half-laughing, as his fingers trail down to interlock with yours. “what? just telling the truth, angel,” he says, grinning shamelessly, and somehow, even though you want to hide, you never really mind.

PARK JAY

"angel!" jay's voice echoes through the store, loud enough that heads turn, but you’re already used to it—used to the way he calls for you like you’re the only person in the world. you peek up from the display of luxury bags he insisted on buying you, only to find him grinning at you from across the store, holding up two pairs of heels. "which one, baby?" he asks, and before you can answer, he’s already walking over, wrapping an arm around your waist. "actually, you’re getting both, sweetheart." you roll your eyes, but your heart flips anyway, just like it does every time he effortlessly calls you by pet names in public, unbothered by the stares. "jay, let’s get something to eat after this," you hums, as jay presses a quick kiss to your temple. "whatever you want, my love." and really, how could you ever mind when he’s just so, so perfect?

SIM JAKE

"baby," jake whines, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you’re browsing through a rack of clothes. his chin rests on your shoulder, and before you can even react, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "you've been looking at this for so long," he pouts, swaying you side to side in his hold. you huff a laugh, but before you can respond, he turns your face slightly and plants another kiss—this time on your lips. "jake," you whisper, glancing around, but he just grins, completely unbothered. "what? i missed you," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then the corner of your lips. "missed me? we've been together the whole time," you say, exasperated. he only hums, linking his fingers with yours as he tugs you closer. "doesn't matter," he mumbles, kissing your temple. "i just wanna love on my baby, is that a crime?"

PARK SUNGHOON

"give me that," sunghoon says, already taking the shopping bags from your hands before you can protest. you blink up at him, watching as he effortlessly holds everything—your purse included—like it’s second nature. "sunghoon, i can carry my own stuff," you huff, but he just gives you a look, the one that means don’t even try. "why would you when i’m right here, baby?" he deadpans, adjusting the bags in one hand so he can reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear with the other. "at least let me hold my purse—" "no." his tone is final, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips as he takes your hand instead, lacing your fingers together. "just hold onto me, okay?" he murmurs, squeezing your hand as he leads you forward. and really, how could you ever argue with that?

KIM SUNOO

"baby, hurry!" sunoo whines, tugging at your hand as he weaves through the crowded street with practiced ease, practically dragging you along. his fingers are warm, intertwined with yours. "we need to get there before the line gets too long!" you barely have time to process where “there” even is before he’s pulling you along again. he looks back every few steps, grinning, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. whenever the crowd gets too dense, he squeezes your hand twice—his little way of checking in. at crosswalks, he swings your joined hands playfully, humming some tune under his breath, and when you finally slow down in front of the café he was so determined to reach, he presses a quick kiss to your knuckles. "see? told you we'd make it," he says smugly, still holding your hand like he’ll never let go.

YANG JUNGWON

"you're cold," jungwon states matter-of-factly, already shrugging off his jacket before you can protest. you barely get a word out before he drapes it over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a little longer to adjust the collar properly. "you should’ve told me earlier." his voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but there’s something so undeniably warm about the way he looks at you. you wrap the oversized jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric, and he chuckles, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then casually laces his fingers with yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he swings your intertwined hands slightly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles, and when you try to tease him about being so soft, he only grins, leaning in just enough to murmur, "only for you, love."

NISHIMURA RIKI

“guess you’re stuck with me, baby,” riki drawls, already tugging you down before you can protest—not that you ever do. his arms loop around your waist, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap like it’s second nature. it is. “riki,” you sigh, not out of embarrassment but habit, settling against him as his chin drops onto your shoulder. “what? you’d rather stand?” he grins, tilting his head so his lips ghost over your ear. “nah, you love this.” a chuckle rumbles in his chest when you don’t deny it. “see? you fit perfect.” his fingers drum lazily against your hip. across the table, someone raises a brow, but you barely blink—meanwhile, riki revels in their reactions. “jealous?” he teases, smirking at them, then at you. “sorry, but my baby gets vip treatment.” you roll your eyes, but when his hand finds yours, you squeeze back.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

gentlemen thoughts, valentines day edition ♥️🫧 +iida, neito, sero 😚 slighttt nsfw, but nothing too explicit 🫀

gentleman! katsuki, who claims he hates valentines day, rolling his eyes and uttering that he “doesn’t need a special day just to love you.” who contradicts that point by cooking you dinner, lighting a few candles and playing some serene music. he’ll scoff and claims it’s nothing, just something he saw on tv or between his parents- but who also smiles like an idiot when he sees how happy it makes you. who keeps you at home for a reason, that reason being he can take you anywhere and anytime throughout the night. not that it takes much to stop him, anyway.

gentleman! izuku, who loves to love you. who does take you out, making it a point to give you a nice evening. who runs to open every door for you, pull out every chair, and who doesn’t let your fingers even graze the bill. who finds you beautiful no matter what, but whose green eyes light up in adoration when he sees you all dolled up, just proud to be with you, proud to love you. who forgets to eat, literal hearts in his eyes while he stares at you, lovestruck. who, afterwards, holds your hand and walks you through the city, the same way he’ll talk you through it later, at home. <3

gentleman! shouto, who never had a healthy model relationship when he was growing up, and is determined to treat you right. who takes you ice skating, partly because he knows how too, but also because ice skating dates are excuses for couples to hold onto each other for the entire night. who places his hand around your waist, gently gliding across with you, kissing your head and reminding you that you’re doing great. who may be awkward, because he’s never had a partner to take out on dates like this before, but who forgets about everything else when he’s with you. who has about a million little presents waiting in the car for you to open- little photos, or trinkets, or accessories that remind him of you. who will kiss any bruises or sore spots, and anywhere where else you want him to <3

gentleman! eijirou, who is down to just about anything with you, even those unconventional, un-thought of dates. rage room? sure. building legos? absolutely. shopping? take his card. who would do something he absolutely hates if you love it (he literally folds for you every time). who religiously wears basketball shorts and crocs, but who puts effort into his appearance for today, mentally noting your blush lingering eyes in his outfit. who will happily carry you back to the car afterwards- not because you’re sore, or tired, but because he loves you, and is a little cocky about the fact that he can toss you around and flip you over like its nothing. you’ll find out later <3

gentleman! denki, who knows how to have fun. who you’ll either go out to get food with or order in, whichever you prefer. either way, you’ll be staying in, playing video games and watching his movies. your dates consist of minecraft challenges, try not to laughs (he will 100% spit water on you) and exchanging clothes. he’ll have you sit between his legs, on his lap or in his arms, reaching his head down to press little kisses on your neck and shoulders. who makes you playlists and longgg instagram notes. by the end of the night, the couch is a mess, if not broken, and its safe to say you two did have some physical activity <3

gentleman! tenya, who may be the truest gentleman in this series so far 🩷 who is obviously rich, and who never shows it off… except for when it comes to his relationship. who spoils you, buying you one in every colour if you even utter the words that you want it. who offers you his arm whenever you’re walking around, draping his blazer around your shoulders and guiding you to wherever your going. who feels a bit like an imposter, being with someone so beautiful, being so, incredibly happy- but whose worries wash away when you squeeze his hand and thank him. who doesn’t need the thanks, but who might get you to beg a little when you get home <3

gentleman! hanta, loves arcade dates! who will spend an absurd amount of time and money trying to win that one plushy he noticed you glancing at, maybeee using his tape to cheat it a little. who also is a sucker for the small, traditional things- flowers, chocolates, cards- he thought they were all superficial, until he found meaning in you. who is inhumanly funny and sweet, the oxygen in his lungs being your smile. who purposely takes the long way home, loving long car rides with you, and who has to to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road and not on you in the passenger seat. who may eat you out in that passenger seat later <3

gentleman! neito, who THEATRE DATES THEATRE DATES sorry didn’t know how to fit that in 💐 who doesn’t mansplain or talk down to you if you have questions about the show. who honestly has a few questions himself, but mostly because he’s not watching the show- he’s watching the lights reflect off your irises, radiating even in a dimly lit theatre. who walks you out afterwards and takes you home. who toys around with the piano a bit, playing you little snippets of love songs, even singing if he notices you like it. who gets you to sing- or rather scream- his name with those piano fingers of his <3

gentleman! hitoshi, who has never been one for elaborate or big dates, but who has his own unique ways of showing he loves you. who throws a hoodie on and goes for long walks with you, making sure you find the perfect spot to sit and stargaze. who names stars with you, laughing and rolling his eyes at all the stupid names you pick. who tussles your hair and pulls you into his arms, every now and then pointing out the constellations he sees. who looks at you like you’re the universe, not even caring if theres a sky full of lights in front of him. who gives the sky one last look before fucking you right then and there, letting the moon watch till the sun comes up <3

[ladyrosemone]

The Other Side Of Paradise

Using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ This is an intermediate of part one, as the Batfamily's point of view just like you had yours, official part two coming soon! Also my question box is open (I think) and without further ado, enjoy the read! (Thanks for enjoying the read 😭🫶🏼)

Tw!: Profanity (use of prostitute as a derogatory insult), murder, murder scene described, negligence.

Tag List: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol.

Dick is always first.

The first child acrobat of the circus, the first son of Bruce Wayne, the first Robin, the first brother, the first everything.

And he was proud of that, from being an orphan to the pride of Gotham it was not an easy path and much less a happy one, but amidst so much pain and loss he is grateful for having a constant; his family.

Dysfunctional and somewhat shaky, where violence and beatings are the language of love, they find comfort in knowing that they have each other.

He has Alfred as his honorary grandfather, who is the wisest person he will ever meet again.

Bruce, who even with his flaws is his father, who gave him a chance and never abandoned him, making him the man he is today.

Jason, the most distant but beloved of his brothers, knows that he can always count on him and his strength at all times.

Tim, his chair boy, his best confidant, and the best detective in the world, trusts him with his life over anything he can't find.

And Damian, his little brother, his favorite boy in the whole world, the Robin to his Batman, what he wouldn't do for his sharp-tongued brother; even when he came to the mansion threatening and stabbing everything, never gave up on him and the result was completely worth it.

His sisters are also dear to him; Stephenie and Cassandra are strong and independent, but also loyal and loving. Barbara may not be a sister -she still has her father- but she has earned a place in the family and is considered sister as much as Steph and Cass.

Of course he will never leave Duke behind, the newest, the ray of sunshine among them all, he expects great things from him.

Dick is always first.

Dick is the last one to remember you.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

He doesn't want to forget, there are memories that still keep him sane; his mother, when Bruce adopted him, his first patrol as Robin. You.

But if it were up to him, he would never talk about them again or even acknowledge their existence. They are chains that bind him, quicksand that make him sink whenever he tries to move forward and personally he is fed up.

Because no matter how many villains he catch and how many more kill, how many people save, nothing will take away the guilt of not having saved that person. Don't save you.

Of not finding the strength in himself to look for you now, because for you, there is nothing but shame and shame for himself. The first friend he had, the first brother he had, his first great loss, his only great regret.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

Jason hates being the first to discover your new identity.

Tim is a genius.

Genius falls short, his brain works like a computer within a computer within another; Wires instead of neural conduits and electricity instead of energy is what happens in that brilliant brain of yours.

He was never an ordinary person, he is ambitious and resourceful, intelligent and determined to get what he wants.

That started with the mantle of Robin.

When Jason was still in the portrait, he wanted to be part of the duo; He trained and prepared, ready to help from the Batcave until the Joker thing happened. And even when it felt bad to carry the title of the bat's henchman, he felt proud that his perseverance took him to the top.

And it was the beginning of his destiny.

Robin, Red Robin, the robin's mantle is and will be a part of him that he will never let go, but he is also the one who remembers every detail of every case of every villain of every attack in Gotham, is the one they turn to when they need to confirm exact information. Nothing escapes him, ever.

Tim is a genius.

Tim passed you by and lost.

Damian is the perfect heir.

His father is the most powerful man in Gotham and Batman himself, his mother is a skilled and lethal assassin, daughter of a dynasty of the world's fiercest assassins, and he is the result of the cross between the two.

He is perfect.

That is why he will never deign to look down on the unworthy; Richard is fine, Jason is worthy because served his mother and grandfather, Tim still doubts it, women are strong allies and that new boy has potential. Alfred and his father, of course, are worthy of his obedience.

And you? You are worse than a disappointment.

A stain, a mistake, someone who should never have existed, rotting his perfect legacy, you should be thankful he didn't kill you when he had the chance.

It's not that you deserve it, you don't deserve anything from it.

You are so insignificant to him that not even in his dreams did he worry about your whereabouts, of course he knew that you were no longer there, he had to watch you in case you stole something when you left like the thieving prostitute who was probably your mother, but when you did not return, he felt triumphant for having taken care of -without killing- the family problem.

Damian is the perfect heir.

Damian feels like his throne means nothing in front of you.

Bruce is a father.

He never considered himself one, maybe he wanted it once, when his own father was alive to learn from him, but that dream died when his people did it in the alley.

Despite everything, he tried to be a father to Dick, and his efforts, although questionable, worked. Then Jason with his bright eyes and bubbly personality, taken away too soon, let go too soon.

Even now, so near and so far, it is his greatest loss as Batman, as Bruce Wayne.

Tim was...complicated; arrived when he had not overcome his grief and treated him in the most atrocious way he had ever imagined treating his children. Still, he proved to him time and time again that was more than expected.

Damian was unexpected of an unexpected union; son of Talia Al'Ghul and grandson of Ra's Al'Ghul, he awaited a bloodthirsty and indomitable child. Which started badly ended well, his youngest son is on his way to writing his destiny far from his ancestry, and in his heart knows that did the best he could.

Barbara, although not their daughter, is part of their family, Stephenie and Cassandra are their beloved daughters, and Duke is officially their new son.

Bruce is a father.

Bruce is not your father.

Do others really have a voice in this narrative? You barely remember them, you barely knew them, much less you care about them. Yes, even Alfred.

"I don't understand, there's nothing more" Tim murmurs, looking at the images on the Batcomputer, reading the documents at the same time, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers trembling from the coffee laced with an energy drink that just drank "There must be more"

"You searched enough, you should get some sleep" Barbara intervenes, in her wheelchair "I'll cover you"

"No, there's something I'm overlooking" he insists "I know, I just have to look carefully"

"Tell me it's not that thing again" Jason complains, arriving at the Batcave with his Red Hood suit on, barely removing his helmet.

Dick nods, his usual smile not drawing his face, just a grimace "We're close to finding it, just...something's missing"

The image is clear; a party room, with people dancing and laughing, as precise as a painting but recent that appeared in the newspaper. All of these people are families of dangerous underworld groups.

Lords of drugs, weapons and human trafficking, ex-convicts and people who work for villains are...enjoying the party.

It wouldn't be relevant if it weren't the photo before the tragedy.

⚠️ Description of crime scene, bodies and blood under the cut ⚠️

All of them, women and men, young and old, nothing more than a combined mass of blood and bones, guts scattered on the walls and decorations of the room.

The floor, the stairs, everything contaminated, women's bodies -which were getting smaller, then only limbs such as arms, hands and finally, fingers- arranged on the main staircase. They all point to something;

⚠️End of scene⚠️

A painting.

In the two photos, the painting of a house is what steals the attention; nothing special, nothing grand, just a painting of a gray wooden cave house, with the background of a distant city and without a signature, almost overlooked as another photo if it weren't for the canvases and the paint under his fingers when he touched it.

In both photos the painting is at the top of the stairs, in both the light was shining on them and in both it draws attention before anything else.

Why? What does it mean? What does it tell them?

"There must be something more than that, hidden among the corpses" says Damian, the most obsessed -besides Tim- in discovering the identity of the one who, for months, has left them clues after helping them anonymously, only a pseudonym in your name; The Savior.

Or that is how those who bring your messages to them have referred to you, speaking of you as a Saint, a savior among men, God himself who came down to protect them.

And they can't let that continue.

They must know if you are dangerous, if you are a potential threat or potential ally. They must discover you.

Alfred arrives with more coffee, because he knows his words won't be heard at that point; When the family becomes obsessed with something, they hardly let it go until they get their fill of it.

His eyes pursue that house; small and misaligned, painted in a very specific way, too specific.

Jason doesn't like to remember the past.

"Wasn't there a phantom surcharge on the accounts months ago?" He says in a low voice, almost lost if the echo of the cave had not returned the word to him.

"There are many like that" Tim murmurs without thinking about the matter "Hey-!"

Jason pushes him aside, typing furiously and searching through files, searching and searching remembering remembering until...A contract, simple and almost empty, with a late date and an unknown signature, the name blank but with an address and a photo; the photo of the painting.

The house.

"How did you...?" Tim was surprised, looking at that contract as if he had never looked at it before, reading carefully, sleep and fatigue fleeing his body.

Bruce looks on without speaking, but those who know him know that a war of insecurities is raging inside him; How did it happen? Who was it? When did do it? Has access to all he private accounts? Do has know their identities?

The clue has been revealed, the answer discovered, and the game is just beginning.

"I think it's time to arrange the pawns on the chess board" you say in your luxury suit, the highest in the tallest building in Gotham, looking at the flashing lights that fill the streets, looking at the outskirts of Gotham, looking at your next move, looking at the wide-screen camera that's embedded in the painting's window.

[wosospacegirl]

Sun, Sand, and Shenanigans - Arsenal teen!r x Ibiza version

Summary: Arsenal heads to Ibiza for vacation, and Y/n is already plotting all the chaos she can cause.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: just team banter!!!

Masterlist here

..

The Emirate Stadium was sold out. Hundreds of people had come by to watch The Arsenal women’s final and most important day match of the season. It was a hard game, as it always was when they played against Chelsea.

Chelsea scored first, with  Cuthbert finding the net in the first half. In the second half, Beth scored. 1-1. Then Alessia. 2-1.

The referee blew the whistle. 90 minutes. The game was over and Arsenal had won the Women's Super League against their biggest rival at home. They’d done it. 

And that’s how the whole Arsenal team was flying private to Ibiza. The club had awarded the team with a two-week stay in one of Ibiza’s nicest resorts. To say Y/n and the other girl were over-excited would be unnecessary. 

Some girls, like Y/n, had never been to Ibiza before, while others–especially the Lionesses– were already familiar with the Mediterranean island.

Leah was in the window seat with earphones on, head resting on her chin as she watched the clouds pass by.  Beth was in the aisle seat, while Y/n was squished in the middle, in between the two senior players.

Y/n was more excited than ever. She had never been on a big vacation before—only taking planes for games or to visit her parents. Now, she had two whole weeks with nothing to worry about except beaches and getting a suntan.

Y/n still had school to do, but since it was all online and honestly, she wasn’t too concerned about it. All that mattered to her right now was the vacation the team had ahead of them was her biggest concern now. Y/n was eager to get to the resort, foot tapping against the plane’s grey flooring, a smile displayed on the young girl’s face.

“Can't you stop grinding?” Leah complained suddenly, taking off her earphones and turning to look at Y/n.  “You're bothering me.” 

Y/n looked at her confused. “Bothering you? I haven't said anything!” 

“It can feel you bouncing next to me, it's shaking my seat, bro,” Leah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

Leah, the Arsenal captain was a sweetheart when she wanted to; right now she wasn’t.

“You’re the one who chose to sit next to me—quote, unquote—‘to keep an eye on me.” Y/n sassed.

“Yeah, that was before I knew you weren't aware of how to properly behave on a plane!” Leah argued back. 

“Damn calm down! I'm just happy. It's not my fault you feel miserable all the time!” Y/n said. “Some would think a captain would know how to deal with their players!” Y/n complained in a mumble barely audible.

“Oh, sweetheart until we get back to London I'll be just Leah. No captain. No, Williamson. Just Leah,” she said, smiling dreamingly as if she had been waiting to put the captain’s armband on hold. “So shut it.” She added dryly, the smile vanishing from her face.

Leah wanted just for once to feel like a normal player on the team. Not the captain, not the responsible one, not the poster woman of Arsenal. She just wanted to be Leah. And if the girls behaved well, she could! Just for two weeks. She just needed to relax for two whole weeks and then she could go back to being a kick-ass captain.

“Oh my god will both of you shut up?” Beth said and Yn and Leah continued with the bickering. The blonde was wearing a beauty mask, a very ugly one. “ We are going on a vacation here. I'm trying to relax!”

“For fuck's sake what do you have on your face?” Leah asked horrified as she turned to Beth. “And when did you put it on?” 

“It's a beauty mask! Airplane air makes my face dry," Beth explained. “This,” she pointed at her face, “will keep it hydrated.”

“There's no such thing as airplane air, Beth! Don't be ridiculous now,” Leah stared at The Mask as if it would attack her any second. “It is making me uncomfortable.”

“Viv wouldn’t mind my mask if she was here,” Beth said, tilting her chin up.

“If Viv was here she would feel disrespected by this thing on your face.” Kim, the vice-captain, said stoically. “Take it off Bethany, you look foolish.

“It's the same colour as vomit, too” Y/n added mysteriously, leaning closer to Beth to inspect the mask. “And it has a smell to it too–”,  Y/n sniffed it before plucking her nose. “Ew Beth! Take it off, it smells like vomit!”

“What!? No, it doesn't!” Beth defended her mask, crossing her arms.

“What is that smell?” Someone said a few seats over. “Did someone puke? Should we call the flight attendant?”

The voice belonged to Steph. She stood up from her seat and started searching for the source of the smell as if she were a hound dog throughout the rows of seats.

“Was it you, Kyra?” Steph asked, looking at where her fellow Australian was sitting. Kyra, Alessia and Vic were sitting two rows ahead of Y/n, deeply focused on a game of UNO.

“What? No, Steph, it wasn't me!” Kyra said defensively looking up from her cards. “The smell is coming from back there,” she pointed to where Y/n, Beth and Leah were seated.

Beth rolled her eyes and Leah put her earphones back on. Guess the captain wasn't captaining anymore.

Kyra, Alessia and Vic turned around, their head the only thing peeking from over their seat.

“Bethy, what is that?” Vic asked, mimicking Leah's horrified face from just a moment ago.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Beth huffed, taking out the beauty mask rather aggressively and throwing it on the little trash bag in front of her. “There. It's gone, are you guys happy now?” 

The plane was silent for a few moments. 

“We should probably throw it out of the windows, It still smells horrible here,” Y/n broke the silence. 

“Agree!” Kyra said.

Murmurs of ‘yeah’ and ‘get it out of here!’ filled the plane's walls as if they all had started a coup against Beth, which in a way, they did.

“Kill me now,” Beth murmured, putting her hands on her face dramatically.

“Great, let me call the flight attendant then,” Steph said eagerly, smiling. “I wanted to talk to her about what would happen if the plane fell into the ocean anyway!”

 Stephe quickly walked down the aisle to the staff’s headquarters.

The smile on Y/n's face dropped. “Is Steph ok?”

“She's a bit scared of flights,” Kyra explained. “But she feels safe with the flight attendants, though.” 

“Yeah, Steph always takes sleeping pills before flying,” Caitlin added, with a  sleeping McCabe on her shoulder. “She didn’t this time.”

“Why hasn't she taken them?” Alessia asked worriedly. “She looked rather nervous.”

“Kyra thought it would be funny to hide the pills from Steph,” Caitlin answered, raising an eyebrow at Kyra. “And then she forgot where she put the pills herself.”

Everybody laughed but Caitlin.

“Hey, I already told her I'm sorry!” Kyra whined.

Turns out Steph was afraid of flying because the flight attendant had to bring her to her seat and teach the woman some breathing exercises in order to Steph calm down. 

But in the end, the flight was smooth, filled with laughter and banter from the team, Before y/n noticed, she had already stepped off the plane, Ibiza’s air softly touching her face,

It was sunny and warm when the team arrived at the Dourado resort in Ibiza, the Mediterranean weather was already affecting Y/n’s mood, and not just hers, but everybody as well.  She even swore she watched Leah smile.

The whole team was bound to have a great time.

The girls got to the reception to check-in. A pile of suitcases and bags in the resort’s lobby was already formed. People could see from miles away they were a big tourist group. 

“Good morning and welcome to The Dourado,” said the old man on the desk, a kind smile on his face. “Can you please give me your full name and reservation number?”

“Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord, number 2243—”

“María Francesca Caldentey Oliv–”

“It’s Y/n, Y-O-U-R  F-U-L-L  N-A-M-E” 

“Victoria Pelova, Victoria with a C, not a K–”

Everybody started talking at the same time, a mess of words and spelling of names filled the poor receptionist’s desk. The kind man looked terrified and an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, would you ladies form a line and tell me individually about your reservation?”

Kim Little, noticing the mess, stepped closer to the group gathered up on the receptionist's desk. “Sho you all, don’t you know how to behave? How to wait for your turn?” she lectured the women, her brow furrowed. 

Kim turned to Leah, who was sitting in the lounge, not too far from the reception, a drink already in her hand.  “A little help here, mate?”

“Nah, I’m not the captain for the next two weeks,” Leah smirked, taking a sip of her drink.

Kim rolled her eyes and mumbled. “Great, that’s great.”

The vice-captain organized the team in a way they were already paired with the person they were sharing a room with, making it easier to check in. Kim was reading the pairing out loud from a list she had printed. Where Kim could possibly have printed it? Y/n had no idea.

“Okay, McCabe and Foord first, room number 45,” Kim read, letting the couple take a step to the reception, do their check-in and finally take the elevator to get situated in their room. “Next it’s Beth and Steph, room 46.”

When Kim finished reading it, the lobby was empty, having left only Y/n, Leah and Kim herself.

Y/n had a plan to share a room with either Vic, Less, Kyra or even Lotte, she was sure the girls wouldn't mind her tagging along with them during their trip, and the surly wouldn't be fussing over her about school, or telling her to be responsible and mindful.

“Okay kid, you are rooming up with Leah,” Kim said, not taking her eyes off the list.

“With Leah?” Y/n gasped, dropping her bag to the floor dramatically. “Why?!”

“Cause we are in an odd number and I–” Kim pointed at herself, “–don’t want to share with anyone.” Kim smiled.

“Does Leah know she’s sharing a room with me?” Y/n asked, looking at where Leah was sitting; the blonde was now talking with a woman and–oh my god! Leah was flirting with the women?!

Gross, Leah. Y/n thought. So gross.

“No, but she said she’s not on captain duty while we’re in Ibiza, so she won’t get captain privileges either,” Kim explained, dryly. “Now pick up your bag! Don’t leave your things lying around.”

Y/n obeyed, picking up her belongings and following Kim to the elevator. It was a quick trip until they reached their floor. It looked like the whole team would be staying on the fourth floor of the resort. 

“This is your room key,” Kim said as they stopped in front of door number 49, handing Y/n a tag. “Now you get situated, undo your suitcase and please don’t set the room on fire, I bet Leah will be up in any minute now,” 

Y/n opened the door with the tag, feeling Kim’s hands pushing her inside the room. “Hey! Why are you pushing me!” Y/n asked angrily. 

“Because I’m tired of babysitting duties,” Kim rolled her eyes, forcing Y/n to take one more step into the room. “The faster you are in your room, safe and sound, the faster I can get to the sauna.” 

Y/n’s eyes sparkled, her hands pressing together on her chest. “Sauna?! There is a sauna here? I always wanted to go to one,” She said enthusiastically.

“They only allow 18 and older, sorry,” Kim said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Fuck off,” Y/n said, throwing herself on one of the two single beds.

“Glady!” Kim said before closing the door on her way out.

Y/n decided to be a better person than she was yesterday, so she put the procrastination aside and undid her suitcase and her bag. She carefully put her clothes, shoes and toiletries inside the only wardrobe in the wrong, not caring to leave Leah enough space to put her things.

Maybe Y/n would try to be a better person tomorrow, not today.

After what felt like hours, Y/n was finally done. She found time to explore her room. The room was very beachy, with off-white, light blue and yellow undertones on both furniture and decorations. The bathroom was big, with a shower and a bathtub. 

The room also had a beautiful balcony, where she could watch the beach and the pool. It felt like the beach was waiting for her. Tomorrow, she would go to the beach, even if the other girls didn’t want to.

While Y/n was enjoying the view from the balcony, the door to the room opened and Leah came in, but not alone. She was accompanied by the woman from the lounge, holding her.

“What the fuck!” Leah cursed, letting go of the woman’s hand as she saw Y/n. “What are you doing here?” 

Y/n winded her eyes by the sudden disruption of her ‘me time’. “What is she doing here?” Y/na asked, pointing at the woman next to Leah. “Oh my god! Did you bring someone into our room, bro? That's weird!” Y/n whined.

“I-I’m sorry Leah, I’ll just go now,” The woman said embarrassed, leaving the room before Leah could say goodbye.

Y/n looked at Leah with a judge-like expression.

“I didn’t know this was our room, I thought I wouldn’t be sharing with anyone, just like last time,” Leah explained angrily, referring to when Arsenal played in Australia and Leah stayed in a room by herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“You were so ready to get laid, though,” Y/n teased, watching as Leah sat on her bed.

“I was, and you ruined it,” Leah said, sounding disappointed. “But it’s alright.  Guess we’ll have to make do with this arrangement.” 

“You sound so miserable,” Y/n pointed out.

“I am,” Leah sighed. “Sharing a room with an annoying teenager wasn’t the way I expected this trip to go,” The blonde explained, rolling her eyes.

“And sharing a room with a creep who keeps sneaking people into my room wasn’t the way I wanted this trip to go either, you know,” Y/n said, matter-of-factly.

Y/n’s laughter filled the room as Leah threw a pillow at her face, which made them start a pillow fight.

“Okay, stop it now,” Y/n said between laughs, after being smacked in the head rather hard. “We need to set some ground rules,” she said.

Leah widened her eyes. “Look at you talking about rules! I didn’t know you were a fan of rules,” The blond said sarcastically.

“I don’t like rules, I just don’t want to walk in on you or something like that,” Y/n added teasingly, laughing as Leah’s face flushed.

Y/n had two jobs in this world: 1. playing football, and 2. being a pest to each and every one of the girls on the team. Right now, Leah is her primary victim. 

“Will you ever drop it?” Leah asked annoyingly.

“Nope!” Y/n said, in a playful voice.

“First rule then: you start having some respect for your captain,” Leah said, almost as if challenging Y/n.

Y/n laughed. “Oh, back at being the captain?”

“Yeah, kid, guess I am.” Leah said, “I thought Ibiza would be a relaxing trip, but now that I’m rooming with you, I’m not so sure.” 

“You sound like I’ve already done something wrong, I’ve been behaving perfectly since I got here,” Y/n said proudly, chin up. 

“Oh, but I know you’ll get in trouble,” Leah pointed at her eyes, then at Yn’s eyes. “I’m watching you,”

“Now be good and help your senior unpack,” Leah added, pointing at her huge suitcase.

“You wish!” Y/n said, already heading to the door. “Lotte and I are going to that coffee shop downstairs, you have fun with your suitcase, though!”

Y/n didn’t hear Leah’s complaint because she was already out of the room.

She was sure Ibiza would be the best experience of her life so far. She was sure of it!

..

Social media au here Read more of my work here -> Masterlist Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader! Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

[faiszt]

⠀⠀⭑⠀𝆬⠀⠀CLOSE ENOUGH:⠀✴⠀ r. cameron.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ minors do not interact.

PAIRING:⠀s2!rafe x stalker!reader.

†⠀⠀LISTEN TO:⠀close enough by ava morse.

wordcount: 3.7k⠀⠀|⠀⠀CONTAINS: ⠀ smut content. violent behavior. obsessive behavior. hard / strong language. drug mentions. kidnapping. face sitting. rough sex. slightly size kink. p in v. unprotected sex. dirty talk. face fucking & tits sucking.⠀ minors who interact with this will be blocked.

꒰ SILLY NOTES:⠀hi, sweets! i still don’t have a masterlist and stuff, i know, but i just really needed to write this. also, this is my first time writing a smut in my life, so... forgive me for any mistakes, i swear i'm trying and i’d be so happy if you could tell me what you think of it.⠀⠀⠀⠀(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 💬 ♡

there were two perfect words to describe you from what rafe thought: kind and sweet. so sweet, the kind that made him stop and think ‘what hole did you crawl out of?’ well, in a honest answer, the hole you crawled out of was hell. this isn't a silly little joke, it's reality, your sweetness was the perfect counterpart to the kind of obsessive and insane devil you've become since the day you laid eyes on him.

it took rafe longer to figure this out than you had anticipated before starting this freak game between you.

if he needed someone lovely, you'd be her. if he needed someone gentle, you'd be her. but, if he needs someone as crazy and fucked up as he is? his lucky day, you were all of that without even having to hide it with cute clothes and a damsel in distress demeanor.

150 days that you knew him, 150 photos of him kept in the last drawer of your dresser, right under your panties like a stupid plan not very calculated, but existing. a photo a day that you wisely chose every time you followed him around like an abandoned puppy, finding out things about him and his life was part of the shameless fun.

and each time he accidentally noticed you, you acted as he expected you to act. a confused expression and a gentle smile, pretending you were doing anything that a weirdo would, acting like it was purely fate putting you in the same place as him. what kind of shitty fate was this? god could only be punishing you for putting you in each other's lives.

but, no siege was impossible to close, and eventually, the pieces fell right into place in his mind. too late, he was the little mouse that bit the cheese in the mousetrap.

not that his insanity had reached its limit—you were never any different from that—it was just something you wanted to do and felt he needed, given how much stress you'd watched him go through lately. it wasn't wrong, was it? it was just love, no matter how strange, violent, and intense.

just a little help, you wouldn't hurt him... you'd just show that you can take care of him as well as anyone else since no one would take care of him if not you. plus, in the meantime, he could taste his own medicine with someone just like him, or worse.

“what the...” his eyes opened with difficulty, a throbbing pain in his head and his body limp, tingling, almost struggling to move. a dimly lit room, definitely not his room, unless he had been drugged enough to forget how he got there—which was what it looked like. “that’s all i needed now.” rafe thought he was talking to himself.

until he notices you there, sitting in front of your desk, swinging your feet with only one side of the earphone in your left ear, scribbling something. how cute, he thought, not thinking really much about it and when he did, well, he knew he was so fucked.

hands tied to the headboard, he wouldn't even question how you managed to drag him there, but there he was, gagged on a girl's bed. he could kick you if you came near, if it weren't for the clear fact that you both knew he wouldn't do it, first 'cause he wasn't afraid of you, second 'cause he wanted to know how far you'd go.

honestly, if you didn't go all the way, he'd make you go all the way with him since you were the one who brought him here, you had to do something about it now.

“are you plannin’ to make me die here or just playin’ some insane weirdo game, princess?” he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position—even though nothing felt comfortable when his wrists were gagged. he was just trying to get your attention. was it strange that he was finding this too interesting and appealing to simply want to run away?

you turned in your chair, taking the earphone out as you left your pencil on the table. his eyebrows slowly rose when he noticed you was you, the acting was good, he had to admit, not every girl who was into him would simply gag him in her bed like he was her own doll. it was confusing, arousing, a lot of things his mind was trying to think about.

“you looked stressed, i just wanted to make you relax.” you mumbled with a sweet, albeit fake, smile, still swinging your feet in the air. so handsome, you thought, watching him with his disheveled hair and looking so vulnerable to you. “are you relaxed, rafe? or you need me to help you again?” 'cause there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't do for him at this point.

your smile only made him let out a nasal laugh, looking away for a brief moment as he stared at the ceiling. “nice way to relax someone, huh?” he scoffed. “but, since you’re offering... i think i’d be more relaxed if you let my wrists go from that rope.” he tried to suggest, blue eyes looking at you again with a disguised pleading, as if he could actually convince you like that.

“you look better this way.” you grumbled, standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of your bed, his knee lightly brushing against you for a moment. “but, if you wanna leave, i’m not really stopping you. just say the word and we both pretend it never happened.”

“but, i don’t wanna pretend it didn't happen... and i don’t wanna leave either.” he wouldn't say it out loud, but secretly he thought you were kinda wimp. what? you just do all of it and brought him here to... well, nothing? no, no, he knew you could do better than that. “i want you to do what you wanna do, or have you bitten off more than you can chew? don’t tell me you’re that stupid, princess.”

for a man gagged in your bed, he sounded very confident and intimidating in every word. he wanted you to do it so badly, whatever the fuck you had in mind, 'cause it was turning him on to see you do this to him. “come on, you know you didn’t gagged me in your bed to let me leave.”

and, as expected, what he said had exactly the effect he wanted. in less than a minute, your legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him as he looked up at you with a smug little smirk, not caring about the darkness in your eyes. you looked hot like that, he didn't really care about the implications of fucking you without using his hands.

“you talk too much, cameron.”

“then, you should shut my mouth.”

the implication of his words had almost immediate consequences. you bent over him, hands on both sides of his head, pinning him even further into the mattress as you pressed your lips hard against his. there wasn't one percent of delicacy in that messy kiss, just hunger and desire and rafe noticed it, feeling his blood rush to his lower half.

he moaned softly against your lips as he returned the not-so-loving affection, letting your tongue invade his mouth as if he was completely at your mercy—and he, actually, was. not that rafe had ever agreed to be on the bottom very often, but if it ended with you riding him, then it was for a good cause.

when you had the urge to separate your lips from his, it was like being woken up from a trance, he didn't say anything and if his wrists weren't gagged, his hands would be saying something for him. he ran his tongue over his reddened lips, slightly swollen from the inner contact, as if he wanted to know if the remnants of your taste were still there.

“y’know,” rafe started talking after a few seconds, noticing how breathless you looked from just one kiss. it was kinda cute, he'd give you credit for that. “if i wasn’t gagged here, you’d already be face down in that pillow.” he said with such conviction that you had to roll your eyes, thrusting your hips down only to see his facade tremble at the small contact over your clothes.

“yeah, yeah, but you’re gagged and i’m on top.” you gave him a mocking smile, gently patting his cheek before grabbing his chin, making him look straight into your eyes. “and that’s a lose-lose, for you, not for me.”

“lose-lose? i don’t see it that way, sweetheart,” his blue eyes dropped downwards, indirectly giving you the message that it wasn't bad for him when you were the one straddling him in your bed on any given day. “i’m just wonderin’ when you’re actually gonna act beyond these boring little kisses and put that pussy to sit on somethin’.”

“you’re talking too much again, cameron.” you shook your head in disapproval, sighing deeply as you pretended to think about what you were going to do to him. “but, since you want me to do something and i want you to shut up...”

you let the words hang in the air as you got off his lap, standing in the corner taking off your shorts and panties quickly, but to rafe it looked more like you were doing it in slow motion. every second counted and he was already missing your weight against his lap.

kinda ironic... that he was so comfortable being gagged in the bed of a girl he must have seen less than five times in his life. but, rafe never thought straight and he wouldn't start doing that now. it was even pleasurable for him to know that you were obsessed with him to that point. you might have been in physical control, but you both knew better than that.

despite the tension, you were on top of him again. knees on the mattress, your hands holding onto the headboard, the best way to shut him up and he wasn't really complaining about it, in fact, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he thought of the possibility. a devious smile formed on his lips, his tongue moistening them for a brief moment as you graced him with that sight. shit, he wanted to touch you so badly, but he'd have to do it only with his tongue for now.

his tongue slowly passed through your wet folds like a tease of power, you might be on top, but he had his share of power too and he'd make sure to remind you of that. “you taste so good, princess...” he smirked against your cunt, giving it a brief suck before running his tongue over it again, only to see your expression falter and a shiver run through your body. “like a fuckin’ lollipop, so sweet.”

you placed more of your weight on his face, closing your eyes gently as you rubbed your clit against the tip of his nose, feeling his tongue suck hungrily between your wet folds. “mmhm...” you allowed yourself to let out a moan, looking down as your hips rocked over his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, attentively wanting to see you break under the touch of his tongue. he didn't want to miss a single detail of it.

rafe's pants were tightening around his crotch, his thoughts were hazy and he could only think of one thing: you and the dirty little noises that escaped your throat. he wanted to hear each of those and he wanted to be the reason for them. no one else, just him and he hoped you had used your weird obsessive behavior to understand that he was possessive as hell.

but, you were going far, he could feel it, pressing yourself harder and harder against his face and suddenly, the sound of the rope coming loose. your eyes opened in confusion, still numb from the brief pleasure he gave you, only for you to notice his hands loose from the rope, his wrists not even red. “what...? how?” you whispered, looking between his wrists and his face between your legs.

then, he pushed you back, not too hard, just enough to make you fall back onto the mattress and get off of him. “y’know... you’re bad at tying ropes, really bad,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bed before using one of his hands to pull you closer, climbing on top of you with an even more sinister smirk than before. “but, that’s good, it means i can touch that pretty little body of yours now.”

rafe didn't want to wait for you to have any reaction to that, he already waited for too long pretending to really be gagged in your bed, he didn't give a damn if he should've waited a little longer, he got what he wanted.

he pinned you against him and the mattress, crashing his lips against yours as he kissed you violently, as if he was trying to mark you or, maybe, he just really wanted to mark you. his tongue didn't ask for entry, it just invaded your mouth, making you feel your own taste, exactly as he wanted.

“did you like to taste your own sweetness, baby?” he whispered against your lips, sucking your bottom lip before kissing you again. “guess i have to take care of you now, don’t i? you’ve been following me around like a good puppy... i think you deserve a reward.” he pulled away from your face a little, only for his hands to go towards your shirt, pulling it over your head.

on a normal day, he'd take more of his time with you, but not today. today he was a little too eager for this, today you wouldn't go unnoticed by him.

“so sweet...” his fingers caressed your belly before he moved his lips down your neck, making sure to press wet kisses against it before moving down a little further and lightly biting your collarbone. you heard the sound of one of his hands going down to his pants, undoing his belt without any difficulty, as if he had done it many times before, and he did.

pants and boxers on the floor, he was hovering over you with an expression of hunger and desire, one of his fingers running over your cunt, he wanted to feel with his fingers how wet and ready for him you were. he patted your thigh, a warning for you to open it wider for him. you looked so pretty like that that he even felt like sucking you again. but, no, this time he wanted to make you feel everything.

rafe bent over you again, lips against yours, a cheap deception only for him to thrust his fully hard cock inside you. you opened your legs wider in shock, but you didn't push him away, you just moaned painfully against the sudden impact and he liked it, he really liked the way you lost your composure when he had no mercy on your tight little pussy.

no niceties or "just the tip", you were a weirdo who stalked him and he'd give you exactly what you wanted when you drugged him and took him to your bed. the kind of fuck that would leave you sore for days, and when you forgot about the pain, then he'd fuck you again... and again... and again.

he lifted your body a little, holding your legs as he slammed relentlessly inside your tight cunt, his cock was having trouble getting all the way inside you, but he didn't really care, he'd make it fit. “what happened to all that attitude, pretty girl? where did that "lose-lose" go?” he went deeper, making you sink into the mattress as you tried to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

“no, no holdin’ back your little noises, i wanna hear ‘em all.” he roared, his hand letting go of one of your legs as he held your chin firmly. “and eyes on me. if you close them or hold back your moans, i’ll stop and you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

you couldn't say a single word, you just nodded, agreeing with what he was saying, even though you didn't know how long you could keep your eyes open. “good girl.” he released your chin, his hand trailing down your neck and collarbone until he reached your bra.

just fucking you could be enough, but it wasn't, not for a greedy man like him. he wanted more and your tits looked so inviting to his eyes, he wanted everything he could get of you. everyone knew, if he wanted it, he could get it. so, he didn't ask, he just pulled one of your tits out of the bra. his fingers pinching your swollen nipple and circling it as he stared at you, wondering if this would make you go further over the edge or not.

him being too big for you was already something, but rafe knew perfectly where to push your buttons and he'd make you tremble without needing much, he wanted to break you so you'd know better before you thought you could leave him in a position like that. your legs locked around his waist, just so he could go balls deep, feeling you squeezing him tighter and tighter as your tight walls clenched in pleasure.

“mmgmh, rafe, fuck...” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard as you looked down to see his rhythm. thrusts so rough that the bed began to creak and he had no intention of being discreet about how good and hard he was fucking that sweet pussy of yours. “rafe... i need to... i need to come...”

a mocking laugh came out of him as he slowly thrust inside you again, really much slower than before, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. “yeah, princess? you wanna come that fast? this pretty little cunt can’t handle such a big cock, can it?” he continued with the slow thrusts, like a tease that he was really enjoying doing.

“but, it’s okay... i said i’d take care of you.” rafe whispered, leaning over you again, his tongue flicking over your nipple that he had been pinching moments before. “then, come for me, princess, come while i suck your tit.”

his thrusts gradually increased again, making you see stars as he sucked on your nipple hungrily, his eyes flicking up to see your expression of pleasure. your loud moans and whimpers were music to his ears, like fuel that only motivated him to go deeper.

and when you got to the edge, by god, you squeezed him so hard and moaned like you were in heaven; and he enjoyed every second of it, pressing himself against you as he felt your legs tremble for him. “you did so well for me...” he licked your nipple once more before moving kisses up to your neck. “but, we still have one thing before we finish... and you’re gonna be a good girl and do it.”

“what? what’s left?” you mumbled, tired and breathless, your legs still shaking as he grabbed your body and made you sit on the bed. not understanding what he meant when you noticed him standing up, right next to you.

“come here ’n open your mouth, i’ll show you.” it wasn't a request, it almost sounded like an order, if you didn't do it he’d make you do it anyway. “open wide.” he said again as you sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. one of his hands gripped the back of your head, while the other gripped his still hardened length, positioning it in front of your lips.

your eyes widened a little, but you looked up to meet rafe's gaze and he looked very confident about what he was doing. “no hands, i just need your little mouth, pretty girl.” he definitely wasn't expecting you to nod, he just shoved his cock into your mouth and waited for you to do what he wanted. “mmh, yeah, just like that...” he smirked, satisfied with your work, moving his hips back and forth, not caring if you could handle everything he put inside that sweet mouth.

he, in turn, didn't need much either, you had already given enough of a show for him to feel his balls full, he just needed a little more, your lips around his cock would solve the problem. “that got you so far, didn’t it? this stalker thing, you’re exactly where you wanna be, aren’t you? with my cock hitting your throat, so pretty.” he moaned, using his dirty words to motivate you to swallow him all the way down.

his moans started to become more frequent, he stopped moving his hips, using your head as if you were a doll, back and forth quickly, choking you, he was slowly reaching his limit and the sight really helped with that.

rafe knew he wouldn't last longer than that, he was exhausted, panting, letting out long gasps every time he sank the tip of his cock into your throat. he needed to come. so, he did it. “stay there... that’s it... stop.” he gasped once more, thrusting himself deep into the wet heat of your mouth, his length twitching as he began to spurt hot streams into the back of your throat. “fuck... fuck... mhmm.”

he didn't move his head, not until he was one hundred percent satisfied, not until you had swallowed every little drop of him.

and when it was over, you were a complete mess, falling back on your bed, dealing with the intense aftermath of what rafe gave you. he joined you at your side, as breathless as you were, not regretting a single microsecond of what had happened between you. “next time you wanna do this, remember to tie me tightly to the headboard, princess,” he suggested, lying on his back to face the ceiling like you. “just call me and i’ll bring the rope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don't use my work without my consent.

[xiepheer]

If you're up for it, how about a headcanon of reader, shadow milk, and pure vanilla as a throuple? Feel free to go both SFW and NSFW if your mood is up

Truth and Deceit

Pure Vanilla cookie x reader x Shadow Milk cookie

Hello everyone! Honestly tysm for the likes in my previous post!

ANYWAYSSSS reader will be a fem here!

Hope yall enjoy this! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Also so sorry if this is bad 😭🙏

Dating the truth and deceit is crazy work.

Imagine just having a calm boyfriend and a boyfriend that wastes his time on shows, carnivals, puppets, etc.

That's exactly what it is.

Pure Vanilla cookie would most likely be the calm and collected one in your throuple.

Meanwhile Shadow Milk cookie would be the one who mostly be the chaotic one and the one who gets in trouble all the time.

And you have to handle all that.

Both truth and deceit loves you very much.

The truth would spend his time being with you, teaching you ways of Earthbread.

The deceit on the other hand, would let you watch with him as he manipulates cookies. Making them his puppets for his shows.

Pure Vanilla cookie would scold him whenever Shadow Milk cookie teaches you things like how to manipulate cookies.

But very often, Shadow Milk cookie wouldn't care about him and would continue doing so.

Why would he listen to him anyways.

These two had different jealousy.

For Pure Vanilla Cookie, it is simply just talking about it to you and how it made him feel slightly jealous and would politely ask for you to slightly distance from them a little.

For Shadow Milk cookie, he would NOT talk about it to you. He would manipulate the cookie using his strings to say mean things to you which can make you think they're actually being real at their words.

Then when you actually cried to them about it, both would comfort you.

But Pure Vanilla always suspects that it had something to do with Shadow Milk cookie.

Because of his slight smirk after you crying to them.

Pure Vanilla would talk to him about this but he most likely ignores him.

Both still love you very much.

No matter what, they love you and would do anything for you. (Pure Vanilla would do anything except for foul things like murder and robbery)

During events, Shadow Milk cookie would host the most incredible shows you would have ever seen and it's all for you.

Pure Vanilla cookie would make you a whole table full of delicious food for you, him, and of course, Shadow Milk cookie.

Since Shadow Milk cookie thinks giving you items and beautiful gifts make you happy,

So Shadow Milk cookie would give you the most beautiful jewels he could find all for you during Valentine's or birthdays or everyday.

Meanwhile, Pure Vanilla always gives you affection. The affection you wanted.

Shadow Milk cookie would also scare you sometimes which can end up to you crying or laughing. 50/50 chance.

And if you DID cry, Pure Vanilla would comfort you and scold Shadow Milk which ends up to Shadow Milk snuggling up to you at night as a apology.

Shadow Milk cookie is like an affectionate cat when it comes to cuddling. He would nuzzle to you or your chest and sleep there or on you.

Pure Vanilla cookie would lay on your lap and sleep there.

They would sometimes snuggle on both sides of you body if you're asleep by yourself.

Pure Vanilla cookie, the gentle ancient, hero, and lover

Shadow Milk cookie, the chaotic beast lover.

Though both don't usually get along, you managed to get them to get along overtime.

Both reminded you who you belong to. You belong to Them. Always.

So sorry if this is short! I'm trying!

Anyways Pls correct me if you need to, I dont mind! Have a great day! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

I hope you enjoyed this!

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ together; alternate version (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

yunho's been away for tour, only this time, when he comes home you have very different news to share.

style: bullet drabble (alternative sequel to losing time) pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k tags/warnings: fluff, light angst, all things pregnancy and babies, light smut with breeding kink/preg kink (yunho is v happy she's pregnant essentially lmao) notes: this was fully inspired by an anon in my inbox who asked what would have happened in my short fic together if the news reader had to share was a pregnancy and how would yunho react to that. i don't take fic requests, but i love babyfic and this just turned into a little bullet and drabble fic i thought i would share with everyone.

[masterlist]

at the end of losing time, yunho leaves for tour and it’s a long one. a full two, two and a half months abroad in europe while you’re left at home in a different time zone missing him terribly. 

you find out the truth while he’s away, only a few weeks into tour when you start getting sick. it’s not something you can just spring on him while he’s on tour, it would distract him, it would stress him out, and frankly you just don’t know what to do. what decision to make. 

you know how you feel about yunho, and you knows how he feels about you….  but this type of news always changes everything. 

so you keep it to yourself, and you do your best to make it through. 

only when yunho does return.... you’re showing. it's not a lot, just the beginning stages of a curve at three months, but it's starting to be apparent if you’re wearing fitted clothing and it's not something you would be able to keep from him if he touched you. 

so when he comes home, finally, and texts you, asking if he can send a car to bring you to the studio, you want to say yes so badly but you can’t. 

this isn't a conversation you can have in front of anyone else so you say no. and you’re honestly terrified, so you lie, just a little white lie. you tell him you can't come and that you’re not feeling well, you’ll see him another day soon.

anxiety is fully eating you up and you’re spiraling, and you don’t know it but your texts fully freaked yunho out. he's convinced that you’re going to break up with him and waited until after tour to do it, and he's sick about it.

after dance practice, he sneaks out and comes to your place.

all of a sudden hes there, he’s knocking on your door. 

you thought you had more time, you still don’t know how to tell him, what to say- but he’s there 

and -

You're a mess. Your hair is tangled from running your fingers through it again and again, and you're pretty sure this sweatshirt has a coffee stain on it, but he's here and no matter what you have to face this.

He knocks again, a soft rap on the door, "y/n, please let me in,"

"Just a second," You call back, knotting your hair back into a bun and kicking on your slippers. Your stomach rolls with nervousness, but at least, you think, it's not morning sickness.

When you finally pull open the door your hands are trembling, and Yunho's pained expression doesn't help.

"Hey," You manage.

"Hi," His eyes dart over you, a crease of concern between his brows, "can I come in?"

You move to let him in immediately, stepping back into the apartment, "Sorry, of course,"

When you shut the door tight and flip the lock, silence fills the space, but somewhere within you, you find the strength to turn around and look up at him.

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly off balance at the strange discomfort between you, and finally he sighs, "Whatever it is," he says, "I know we can work it out."

A strike of panic lances up your spine at the thought he might already know what words are sitting like lead on your tongue, but all you can manage is a soft, "What?"

"You're avoiding me," His hands flex and release, "we haven't seen each other in months, and now I'm here, and you haven't even smiled. I don't think you're sick, I think something's wrong."

"Yunho," Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears threatening your eyes already. You wanted to hold it together, but this is already too hard.

He swallows tightly and keeps talking, his own voice laced with nerves, "I know two months was a long time, and I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, I should have called more, made more time for us, but, y/n," he takes a tentative step towards you, "I love you, and I really don't want to give up on us, please, don't,"

Things slot into place at his words and you shake your head, "Who said anything about giving up on us?"

The words hang for a moment, and then he softly exhales, "You're not breaking up with me?"

"No!" Your voice squeaks as you rush to dispel that idea, "No, oh my god, not at all,"

He grins, covering his face with his broad hands and sighing, "Jesus Christ," he sighs, "I was going out of my mind,"

"No," You shake your head again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He drops his hands and you can see the tension leave his tight shoulders, "Thank god," he smiles and steps towards you.

Panic bubbles back up inside you and you raise your hand to stop him, stepping back until your hips bump into the back of the couch, "Wait,"

His expression crumbles, "What's going on?"

You just have to say it.

"Um," Your stomach flips, "I do have some news."

"News," He repeats numbly.

"Yeah," You start to cross your arms over your chest but the realization that it would pull the fabric of the sweatshirt closer to you rockets through your brain and you drop your arms helplessly by your side. You have no idea how to tell him this.

"You can tell me anything," He says softly, reading your panic in a moment, "and you know, there's nothing we can't handle together."

"Yunho," Tears start to gather, making your eyes glassy, "I don't know how to tell you this,"

"I'm here,"

The panicked, terrified, anxious part of your brain scoffs, for now. You look away from him immediately, eyes glued to the floor. If this is how you lose him, then you guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

You take a steadying breath and jump, "I have something to tell you," you knot your fingers together, "and I didn't know how to tell you while you were away. I was afraid of distracting you or trying to figure this out while you weren't, you know, here,"

"Okay," He murmurs, taking a slow step in your direction, "I'm here,"

"A week after you left," You press your eyes closed tight, tears tracking down your cheeks, "I missed my period,"

He's silent. Your stomach churns again, but you keep going, "For a little bit I just thought it was stress, or something funny, I'm not always on schedule, but, then I started getting sick," With your eyes closed and with him so quiet, you can almost pretend you're practicing this speech, one of the many times you talked it through in the shower, lying in bed, pacing laps around your apartment. "I'm so sorry," Your voice cracks, "I'm pregnant," You can't bring yourself to open your eyes. "I know I should have told you," Tears rush forward a little faster now and you take a hitched breath, "and I know you don't want this, but you deserve to know, and I... I don't, Yunho, I don't know what to do, I don't know what I'm s-supposed to do, and," Yunho steps forwards all at once, his hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your face upwards, "Hey, hey," he soothes, voice tender, "look at me," Your eyes finally open, meeting his gaze. You expect to find him terrified, any twenty-something guy with a delicate career would be, but all you find in his eyes is soft comfort. There's no trace of the idol in him, just your lover, your best friend. "It's okay," He wipes away your tears gently, "sweetheart, breathe," "Why aren't you angry?" Tears rush faster, your breath tight. He smiles, "I'm upset you didn't think you could tell me," he dips forwards and presses a kiss to your forehead, "but y/n, I love you, this isn't... baby, this could never be bad news." "W-what?" "The timing's terrible," He admits, "and I also have no idea what we're supposed to do, but I don't care. I love you, we'll figure this out." Of all the reactions you expected from him, this hadn't even crossed your mind. When he leans back from you a little to study your tear stained face again, he smiles, and it feels like everything about your life is about to change. Slowly, you pull his hands away from your face and take a steadying breath, "Yunho," you manage, "you're an idol, and besides, we're twenty-six, we're not even married, we're not, what the hell are we going to do with a baby," He slides his hands over yours and brings them together, lifting them so he can press his lips to the back of your knuckles, "We'll do what people do, we'll make it work." You shake your head, feeling fully unmoored, but he keeps going. "I knew you were it for me on the second date," He says and the world slows to a stop, "the only thing in the world I'm terrified of is losing you, but this? y/n, I'm in love with you. Did you think I haven't imagined what our lives would be like?" "I," You can't find the right words, but you try, "I love you," His smile widens, and he moves quickly, tugging you forwards and wrapping his arms around you properly. He's much taller, and he has to lean over you, but he wraps one arm smoothly around your lower back and your hands settle on his shoulders. He pulls you up in one smooth motion, his free hand slipping under your thighs as you wrap them around his waist to hold you tight against him. He kisses your lips, tender relief in every press of his mouth on yours and he nuzzles your nose with his, "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you too," You confess, your body finally relaxing and melting into him, weeks and weeks of tension bleeding out of your body, "so much," He hugs you close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck, and then he freezes, "Oh my god," his hand slides over your back, landing on your waist, "you really are pregnant," You know he can feel it, the change in your body when you're pressed flush against him like this, and you nod into his neck. "H-how," His hand pushes under your sweatshirt, searching your skin, "baby, how far?" "Fourteen weeks," He sucks in a breath, dropping you gingerly back to your feet, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," For a split second you think you're finally getting the anger you anticipated, but the giddy expression on his face says otherwise.

"I've missed so much," He snakes a hand under your hoodie, and lays his palm over your slightly distended belly, "I'm... god, I can't believe this," "You're not upset?" You check softly. "No," He shakes his head, and then he tugs gently at your sweatshirt, "No, but, can you take this off, can I see?" You're nervous again, but his easy energy wraps around you like a safety blanket and you nod, swallowing back any fears and pulling off the sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but your sweat pants, and a tight tank top. His eyes zero in on the bump immediately, and the sliver of skin between your sweats and the hemline of your top. Your hands rest over your belly, a nervous, protective instinct, "I know," He blinks hard, tearing his eyes away from your changing body and up to your face. "What?" You ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "You're really pregnant," He says, his voice a little rough, and then he reaches again until his hand slides over the smooth plane of your stomach, tracing the curve, "that's my baby," "Yeah," You breathe softly. 

Tears track down his face and he laughs, reaching for you again, up into his arms and nestled against him. 

From there?

He’s kissing you and he just can’t stop. 

You’re a mess from stress and tears, and hardly feel sexy, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed you, he loves you so much and this news is unexpected and terrifying but he’s so happy he doesn’t care

So holding you in his arms still, he takes you to bed

And you’re apologetic about the mess, your bed stand is covered with water bottles and anti-nausea medication and it hits him all at once how you’ve just been holding it together by a thread 

And he pulls you into the bed - “You’ve been sick, this hasn’t been easy, has it? I could have been there for you, I wish I had been there,” 

But you assure him that you’re mostly on the other side of it, you’re only sick like once in a while now not every second of every day 

And he’s like….. we are talking about that later, but right now how are you feeling? 

And you’re good…. but god, you missed him and now you’re just so relieved

So he begs you to let him take care of you now, he’s home, he can carry that weight if you’ll let him

And teary tender kissing in bed leaves his hands wandering, noticing how much is different, losing his mind over your bump and the new fullness of your breasts

And he’s hard and you’re touch starved 

And then he’s just losing it a little - kissing your body, telling you how much he loves every inch of you, how insane it makes him that he did this to you, how you made something together

And all the tenderness to dirty talk sends your brain into overdrive. 

It’s all just desperate needy, thank god we didn’t break up i can’t believe i got you pregnant sex

Worshipping oral, lots of body kissing and feral groaning from Yunho

His absolute insanity at being inside you like this - and you’re tighter, wetter, and needier than ever, and he’s just feral for it

“You’ll be the prettiest mommy, won’t you?” 

Just heaps of breeding and preg dirty talk

“God, I hope you want a lot of kids,” 

“You look so good like this, I’ll have to knock you up again,” 

“So pretty with my baby inside you,” 

And when you’re done, you fall asleep instantly. you’ve been sleeping so much more all of a sudden, and you suppose your body needs it, but it feels like you’re finally resting for the first time in weeks

When you wake, your apartment is clean, he got take out (but he’s googling best soups for morning sickness and texting Wooyoung cooking questions), and he’s making a list of everything you’ll need. He’s already making a plan of what you’re going to do. 

So even though the tour was terrifying, he’s home, he’s got you. You’re together on this, always.

[wallysgirl57]

For The Longest Time - Wally Clark x Reader

In which Wally convinces everyone to help with an anniversary present for Y/N.

The Longest Time - Billy Joel

Requests are open (Please send them in)

Warnings: cussing? fluff, mentions of death?

(slight AU! where Mr Martin and Janet didn't do all that and instead crossed over, Maddie was killed by Mr Anderson.)

Wally had been a bit distant for the last few weeks. Everyone had for that matter. Rhonda didn't come to the last few girl's nights, which you had attributed to her newfound friendship with Quinn. Charley was suddenly busy with Yuri, which you could not be happier about.

Maddie was normally distant anyways, so it wasn't a massive shock, but Wally had never been this distant in the 20 years you'd known him. Hell, he'd called dibs on being your guide when you died and practically refused to leave your side until Maddie got here. You'd assumed that he had finally chosen her, remembering you had never made whatever you two were official.

You tried to not think about it, not wanting to heighten any emotions any more than they already were. You made your way to the gym, hopeful to throw basketballs at the windows for a while since there wasn't any meetings that day. You were shocked, however, to find it locked with a note taped to the outside, "Ghost Project in Progress Do Not Enter"

"Are you shitting me?" you asked to nobody in particular, deciding to make your way to the football field instead. Golf clubs to the vending machines seemed a little more therapeutic anyways.

You make it almost all the way to the storage shed when you are intercepted by Maddie.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" She asked.

"Yeah, what's up? And can we have this conversation while destroying things? That's kinda what I came out here for." You ask in return.

"About that. I kind of need you to come with me," She replied.

You let your head fall back with an exaggerated groan, shoulders dropping heavily.

"Okay, fine." You huffed, letting her pull you back towards the gym.

"I was just here," You whined at her.

"Will you just follow me and listen please?" She asked in more of a huff than you had.

She leads you to the stage, sitting you down in the only chair in the "audience" and moving to go behind the curtain.

"What is this?" you whispered to yourself in a mix of confusion and excitement.

You saw the curtain open up, revealing Wally Clark, front and center, in a tuxedo he must have found in the theatre department. You notice the stage is filled with ghosts behind him, all similarly dressed, in black like a show choir. You chuckled to yourself reminiscing in your living days.

You had been the alto in your show choir at Split River in 2002, unfortunately, you had been horrendously allergic to the throat lozenge that your teacher got in Europe and died right before your performance, landing you a nice spot in the afterlife support group.

You focused back on the stage, now seeing Maddie in a black polka dot dress, looking like she would rather be anywhere else, but the look on her face said otherwise, a sly smile creeping on her face as she noticed you looking at her.

"Whoa-oh-oh for the longest time" The ensemble (Rhonda, Charley, Yuri, Maddie, and Quinn) began, making your eyes light up.

"Whoa-oh-oh for the longest-" they continued.

"If you said goodbye to me tonight, there would still be music left to write." Wally began, visibly nervous, his voice much smoother than you expected it to be, "What else could I do? I'm so inspired by you, that hasn't happened for the longest time."

His eyes finally landing on you before the next line, "Once I though my innocence was gone. Now I know that happiness goes on. That's where you found me when you put your arms around me, I haven't been there for the longest time"

You could feel your cheeks burning, a combination of the blood rushing to your face at the attention and the stretch of your lips into the biggest grin you think you have ever had.

Maddie, Rhonda, and Quinn step forward for the next part, "Whoa-oh-oh for the longest time, Whoa-oh-oh for the longest-" Before stepping back for Wally to come in.

"I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall, and the greatest miracle of all is how I need you and how you needed me too, that hasn't happened in the longest time."

You could feel the tears starting, partly because you were just amazed that he would do something like this, but mainly because this was the song you never got to perform and had never told anyone. Hearing it in this context gave it such a better meaning.

"Maybe this won't last very long, but you feel so right, and I could be wrong, maybe I've been hoping too hard, but I've gone this far and it's more than I hoped for." He took a step closer to you, nearing the edge of the stage to sing more directly to you.

"Who knows how much further we'll go on, maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone, I'll take my chances, I forgot how nice romance is, I haven't been there for the longest time." He took another step and jumps from the stage to stand in front of you.

"I had second thoughts at the start, I said to myself 'hold on to your heart'. Now I know the woman that you are, you're wonderful so far and it's more than I hoped for." He moved to take your hand, fully meaning the next part.

"I don't care what consequence it brings; I have been a fool for lesser things. I want you so bad, I think you ought to know that I intend to hold you for the longest time."

"Whoa-oh-oh for the longest time, Whoa-oh-oh for the longest time..." The group finished, some choosing to fade out (Yuri and Charley) while others chose to end it at that (Rhonda).

Wally's eyes never left yours, searching for something. You were sure that anyone who looked at you at this moment would see a girl in love, smitten, head over heels, but to Wally, he had no idea what was going on in that pretty little brain of yours.

The silence between you finally being broken by your query, "How the hell did you get Rhonda to agree to be a backup singer?"

"Really? I pour my heart and soul out to you and that's what you're questioning?" He grabbed your face, fake exasperation drenching his.

"Wally, I have been hopelessly in love with you for the last 20 years. I'm glad you finally came around." You said, voice dripping with love.

"'Finally came around'? That was an anniversary present, darlin'" He said, genuinely confused, "You're supposed to go big for the milestone ones."

Your eyes searched his, looking for some sign that he was joking just then.

"Wally, as much as I thoroughly enjoyed that, you never asked me to be your girlfriend. I fully thought you were just a flirty dude and accepted that." You replied gently, placing a hand on his face.

"Oh, well that's my bad, totally forgot about that part. I meant to do that like 20 years ago. That makes a lot of sense now actually, Rhonda always made jokes about me being single for so long, I never really thought about it. Well in lieu of the last 20 years," He gets down on one knee, "Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest ghost at Split River and be my girlfriend? And also consider the last 20 years prior relationship experience, ya know, since I forgot and all"

You laughed at his proposal parody, and took his face in your hands once more, "Wally Clark, nothing would make me happier than to be your girlfriend of 20 years. But for real, how'd you get Rhonda to do that?"

Requests are open! I am obsessed with Wally rn and very sad at the lack of fics

[joelsmochi]

hiii my request is for the dilf neighbor series. joel and the reader try waxplay?

la petit mort - joel m.

rating: E 18+ pairing: dilf neighbor!joel x pornstar!reader summary: part five ; after asking joel an unexpected question that distorts his perception of your relationship, he decides the only way to forgiveness is through punishment. warnings: porn with plot, slightly proofread (expect errors), waxplay, rough + unprotected sex (wrap it up this valentine's season, streets are saying no more scorpios), anxiety, angst, taunting, creampie, joel's competitiveness and possessiveness gets the better of him, m + f receiving oral, smacking/slapping/spanking, recording, joel expressing affection and emotions!!!!!, i love you's wc: 5k my thoughts: happy valentine's day and also happy one year anniversary to this series! i wanted to go more in depth with character dialouge/development so i hope you guys enjoy! xoxo

series masterlist | main masterlist

You could feel your pulse thumping inside of your neck, a bead of sweat forming at your temple that you desperately wanted to wipe away but were unable to.

While Joel paced around the room doing any and everything but touch or even look at you. You were unable to move, to reach out to him. All you could do was lie there and watch his anger slowly boil into a simmering lust that had his dick already stirring in his jeans as he prepared for what was to come next.

Your mind dwelled on the conversation that got you here…

“I wanna ask you something…” You said nervously, biting your already chewed up lip as he looked up from his book to see you standing at the door.

“Okay.”

“Just a simple yes or no, then we proceed. Deal?”

He chuckled softly and sat up in his bed, book leaving his hand to rest upon his worn nightstand.

“Go on,” he spoke once he realized it was a serious matter.

“I…” You huffed after a brief silence, itching your forehead. “I was wondering… If we could— or if I could shoot a scene with Tommy again…”

You figured the worst he could do was say no, but as his blank stare burned into your soul you knew that a no would have been much better.

And you felt stupid for even thinking it was an appropriate question to ask, but you figured Joel was more understanding of how free spirited you were or at least the simple fact that the relationship wasn’t labeled official or at the very least exclusive.

He was still silent and that was enough of an answer.

“Never—… Never mind.”

He called you back as quickly as you’d turned around, and it felt like your heart had completely given up on beating. Your throat was tight, and the attempt to clear it went unnoticed.

“Sit down.”

“Joel, can you just forget I asked—“

“Sit down.”

Joel was gutted, or at least it felt that way to him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He asked, somehow finding enough courage to look into your eyes as he asked.

“No! No, God no. Ah shit.”

“Then what?”

“I want to? I don’t— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth.”

You grimaced, not because there was anything wrong with Joel, but because you knew your answer wouldn’t be good enough.

“I liked having sex with Tommy, and I wanna do it again with or without you.”

You found yourself regretting the words as soon as they came out and Joel’s shocked expression did nothing to ease your embarrassment.

“Fu- Joel. I didn’t mean—“

Your sentence was cut short by the door slamming behind him after he stomped away.

And that’s how you wound up tied to the bed like a fucking frog: wrists knotted to your shoulders, feet pressing against the backs of your trembling thighs.

Somehow, Joel convinced you to try this; maybe it was the guilt that boiled over from your chest to your tummy that made you eagerly agree. The sudden assumption that you weren’t exclusive seeming even more silly now.

You’d realized somewhere in the seven days of him being distant and disengaged that you’d do almost anything to make Joel happy, as he would you. No one else was worth jeopardizing what you two had, and while it may have come without a label you’d realized it wasn’t necessary. Not anymore.

Even though bondage was one of the last things that you’d ever think to put on your bucket list, it was spontaneous and a fantasy you were more than willing to fulfill for him.

“Joel,” you could just barely whisper.

He’d pretended not to hear you knowing you’d speak up if it was dire.

Your eyes bounced from the new crack on the ceiling to the dresser in the corner of his room to the back of his head. The room was beginning to smell like cheap candle wax and thick smoke. The severity of the situation suddenly becoming real for you.

You knew the nervousness simply came from a lack of interest and even bigger lack of understanding, not from not wanting to do it at all.

“Joel,” you said much more affirmatively.

“Yes, baby?” He asked once he was standing above you. He frowned when you didn’t answer as a tear dropped from your eye. “Hey, hey, we don’t have to do this,” he assured honestly.

“It’s not that.” You shook your head firmly. “I— I just need my left leg loosened up a bit.”

You could feel the nerves beginning to peak, feeling smothered by your own flesh and suffocated by your own lungs.

Joel wasted no more than half a second before he began to readjust the tough rope.

“That better?”

“Mhm.”

“You promise?”

You wanted to smile at his concerned tone but you just couldn’t.

“I know you said I had to wait but… I need a kiss. Just a quick one then I’ll be okay.”

His lips curled into a soft smile as they pressed against yours. The kiss was anything but quick. It was gentle, slow, passionate. He even slipped you a little bit of his tongue as a courtesy.

Even when the air went cold from his warm body moving away you were still comforted by his presence.

“You ready?” He asked.

He was finally standing behind the camera ready to press the little red button, waiting for your cue to do so.

“Remember what I said?”

“Yes,” you dryly said. “Be quiet unless you are speaking to me or let me make noise, use the safe word if I need to stop for any reason… Um… I think that it’s it?”

“Good.”

Beep.

He took a few more steps around the room before standing by your left leg.

You didn’t mean to gasp so loud or twitch so hard at the feeling of oil dripping onto your skin, and you’re unsure why you did it at all.

“Shh, I got you, princess,” Joel cooed as he began to massage your calf and foot.

Your nipples hardened and you could feel the cool slick that dribbled out of your pussy as you clenched around nothing.

Almost instantly your body ran hot, the lame touch of Joel’s hands rubbing into the least lucrative parts of your body somehow got you going. The wet spot on the sheets indicating just how depraved you felt after a week of no touching.

Then his hands went up your thigh, and you hummed against your lips in an attempt to keep quiet just like he asked you to. If you imagined long enough you could almost pretend his fingers were rubbing your throbbing clit instead, but as his hands maneuvered the hills and valleys of your body you realized he was willing to rub everywhere but there.

You felt like you were floating by the time he stepped away, high off of an orgasm you never had.

Your hips were aching from the position but you’d wanted to show Joel you could handle it. You figured the more you complied the easier he’d go on you, or at least the faster he’d get to being inside of you.

“Look at you… All tied up and spread open for me,” Joel said mostly to himself whilst taunting the hot candle above your navel.

His finger dragged from your belly button down to your weeping little hole and he pressed against it gently, as if he was about to insert it but teasingly chose not to.

“Who’d you make this mess for, angel?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Y-you, Joel.”

“Oh? S’that so?”

“Yes sir.”

He snickered as if he didn’t believe the pathetic pout you wore on your face.

“I promise,” you said.

He leaned his face down to yours and tilted the candle slowly, watching your pupils dilate as you watched the small bead of wax that threatened to fall.

“I think you made that mess for somebody else, hmm?” He whispered, breath blowing onto your flushed cheek.

“No, daddy, no. I promise. I promise it’s all for you.”

And yet, the glimmer in his eyes told you he would still drag it out.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon, so he only let a single drop fall just below your breast.

You hissed, flexing your fingers and rolling your eyes back. The first droplet would be the worst, you assumed, but it only fueled the raging fire that was already burning in the pit of your stomach.

You needed him to touch you, to relieve the tension. To retract his promise of torture.

“Awe, I’m sorry baby. Did that hurt?” He teased. “Here, what if I did this?”

He let the hot liquid that was pooling inside of the melting candle splatter all over your abdomen with a big smile on his face.

“That help?”

You fought like hell to not cry out, huffing between your lips and using your body to release the energy instead.

Joel watched the candle paint pretty red lines and dots all over you, noticing a tear or two shed from your eyes. But you were being a good girl, not whining or screaming. You were taking it and it was the sexiest thing on Earth to him.

He put the hot candle back in its spot and cradled your head, shushing you and kissing your sweaty forehead.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby,” he said. “You reckon I should have manners and say thank you?”

You wondered, for just a few seconds, if it was a trick question. If you said yes would he further punish you for thinking you deserved a reward? If you said no then would he give it to you ten times harder?

Joel waited patiently for a response from you, biting back a smile when you nodded your dizzy head, moaning at the idea of finally being touched.

“You want it… Here?”

Your body shuddered when his tongue found your stiff nipple.

“Wherever you want.”

He softly moaned at your gentle voice, eyes fluttering shut as he took the rest of it into his warm mouth, tongue occasionally brushing against the coarse rope.

He began swirling his tongue round and round, using his free hand to fondle the other one and pinch the nipple gently. You hissed, neck arching off of the bed.

As moans filled your throat you tried to stop them from spilling over your lips; Joel took notice of it and began flicking his tongue just to try and break you.

You fought the noises you desperately wanted to make while your body futility writhed against the restraints. You wanted to whine and say his name, but you kept reminding yourself of his rules even though you were beginning to lose your already fickle grip on reality.

Joel pulled away just before your body got another opportunity to betray you. You could feel the twinge in your joints from being bent too long, the rope started to break skin. He was wearing you down, seeing how long it’d take you to break those “rules” of his.

Meanwhile Joel felt a bit defeated; he was certain you’d break much sooner than that at least once. But it just took one long look into your disorientated eyes for him to see how close you were to giving in.

With a smirk he then grabbed the yellow candle that had collapsed well within itself. It was a pool of torture waiting to pour all over you and drown you into submission.

He traced a finger down from your sternum to your clit massaging the sides of it gently to gain your attention.

Once he heard you happily exhale he asked, “You needed that baby? Needed daddy to touch you right here?”

“Y-yeah, ohh.”

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He pouted, almost feeling sorry for making you wait.

“You poor thing. Lemme see that pretty pussy, hmm?”

Using his index finger and thumb he spread your lips apart, watching your hole clench and squeeze — begging to be filled.

He cursed beneath his breath and took his middle finger into his mouth, swiping it across his tongue lazily before slipping it into you.

He waited for you to moan, to reveal your delight, and when you didn’t he curled his finger upwards relishing in the slight little hiss he got from you.

Joel spit right where his knuckle came flesh with your entrance before shoving a second finger into you and quickening his pace. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, certain he was close to allotting you the privilege to moan.

Once he heard your juices squelch around his thick fingers he couldn’t help but moan himself, and he was ready to throw his rules out of the window much sooner than he expected.

But as far as being punished he was no where near done with you.

He let out a guttural moan, watching the frown on your face deepen and your chest rise and fall harder with every breath you took.

“Go’on, ngh- make some noise for me baby… Let daddy hear you—tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

Just as you took in a breath to finally let out every noise you’d forced your body to silence Joel spilled every last drop of yellow wax onto your chest and stomach.

Your nails dug crescent moons into your shoulders while your throat burned from the groan you finally let out.

As the stinging from the hot liquid subsided you were finally able to open your eyes and allow your jaw to relax.

“Fuck, fuck- deeperdeeperdeeper— ye-esss! That feels so fucking good, daddy!”

Joel could feel the sweat building up on his forehead from how sexy you looked to him in this moment. He blew the candle in his hand out before discarding it lazily; his hand reached for your breast, squeezing it firmly despite it being completely coated in wax.

You felt his tongue latch onto your throbbing clit, instinctively you reached to grip his hair but the rope only dug deeper into your wrist causing a different type of burning to sear across your wounded flesh.

While you failed to conceal a single noise that desired to leave your raw throat you’d also failed to form a coherent sentence. Joel moaned onto your skin, relishing in the way your body shook from both the pleasure and the pain, ensuring his fingers kept up the pace that matched his rapacious aptitude.

The skills he possessed pushed you closer to the edge and he made sure to get you as close as possible.

“I love you, I love you! I’ll never ask for him again! Please, baby, please can I cum?”

Joel merely chuckled as he stripped his body from yours only a breath later, grin widening as he saw defeat spread across your face. You mentioning his brother seemed to bring him back to reality.

“No.”

“But- pl—“

“Shh, sh sh sh.” He leaned over your face and his smile softened. “Your punishments not done, sweetheart. But you can make all of the noises you want for me, okay? Deal.”

You weren’t sure how you felt, but you just looked into his eyes and said, “Of course.”

You couldn’t decide if you like this or not: not being the one in control was one thing, but being utterly powerless was another. And while you hated not being able to flip him on his back and make him listen to you, you loved how sure he seemed of himself for once. How he knew what he wanted you to do and say, when he wanted to hurt or comfort you. He was an entirely different person than the man who came over and felt scared to admit that he had found your porn.

So you nodded and toughened up despite the ache between your legs.

“Sure you can handle more?” He asked softly enough so that the camera wouldn’t pick the audio up. When you nodded he replied, “Good girl. I’m gonna turn you over, okay?”

Once your weight was on your knees and chin you could feel some of the wax chip away beneath you, along with your need for exploring other people. Joel was still attentive to the little things during what was meant to be your punishment. He pushed your hair away so that you could see everything before rubbing even more oil into your goosebump littered skin. He’d prioritize nothing above your comfort and that alone meant more to you than a random fuck for another check.

“Doing okay?” Joel asked making you realize you’d been silent since he repositioned you.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” you answered, swallowing the dryness in your throat away.

You watched as he picked up another candle and in the blink of an eye his dick was sprung in your face. With wide eyes you took a moment to assess your options — only one: your mouth… Which you happily opened.

“Tilt your head up a bi—therrre y’go.”

He held the hot stick of wax in his head steadily as he found a rhythm, his thighs bouncing off the edge of the bed as his tip met the back of your throat repeatedly.

Joel laughed as if the sensation was new to him, he couldn’t help but feel so fucking turned on with you beneath him like this. Your glossy eyes shone up at him like diamonds, shoulders tensing off and on again waiting for the hot liquid to drip onto your skin, and you couldn’t move.

A simply tap of your fingers or resistance from your mouth would be enough for him to stop, but you were too touch deprived to even think about the discomfort you may have been in… Too drunk off the manly taste of his dick stuffing your jaw, and if he would accept this as a good enough apology then you didn’t give a fuck.

Jolting from the sudden hot splash on your spine you accidentally tensed your jaw slightly around Joel’s cock, making him hiss but when he didn’t pull back or flinch you figured might have liked it.

So you did it again—much more carefully than before—feeling a surge of excitement when you felt it twitch against your cheek. You flicked and swirled your tongue as best as you could, watching his hip stutter from the feeling.

Spit was drooling down your cheek onto the bed, your mascara began to chip onto your cheeks smearing dark lines into the sheets, your body was wet with a warm sweat, and your pussy was absolutely soaked.

“You thinkin’ about suckin’ his cock right now? Hmm?” He smacked your protruding cheek, the one his cock currently crammed itself into, without an ounce of mercy before holding the candle dangerously close to your flesh. “Pretending my cock is his? You wanna fuck him again? Huh? Say it!”

You did your best. You really did. To answer him. But you were bound, gagged, and your neck was supporting all of your weight.

He tilted the candle without another thought allowing the yellow to stream from your shoulder blade to the small of your back. With you writhing and crying from the heat that solidified quickly he figured you’d had enough and more than deserved to be unbound.

Joel also just really wanted a fucking answer to his question.

He pulled out of your mouth, reaching for the knot and tugging it loose; once you were completely able to move again you took it slow, turning to sit on your bottom and stretching out a few limbs.

Without a word Joel held out a water bottle for you to take. You looked at him wondering what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable. You figured he was still pissed and trying to get over it so you took the water and said a quiet thank you before taking a few sips and giving it back to him.

“How do you want me?” You asked after a few more minutes.

He blew out all of the last lit candles and came to stand between your legs; his big hands cupped either side of your face and forced you to look up at him.

“Still doing okay?” He asked quietly.

You nodded. “Mhm. I just miss you.”

His thumb smeared your single tear into your skin, then his other hand ran down your painted body breaking some of the hardened wax until he reached your clit.

“I miss you too, baby,” he whispered against your lips, dragging his finger in slow, soft circles. “Put your legs back.”

You winced at the wax crackling against your flesh but did as his said regardless. He pulled his dick into his hand stroking it languidly before using his tip to feel how wet you were.

When he felt the cool slick coating your weeping hole he chuckled, finding the desperate frown on your face amusing.

“Fuck- you’re such a pretty fucking slut,” he groaned as he sank into your throbbing cunt. His hand reached up to pinch your cheeks, and you grabbed onto his wrists for stability. “You wanna fuck my brother again, hmm?”

You shook your head profusely despite the grip he had on you. “N-n-no!”

Despite your efforts to protest against his words, you couldn’t form another sentence once he started thrusting into you.

Between his hips slapping against the back of your thighs and his dick rubbing against the most sensitive spot inside of you your mind was gone. Somewhere between here and there.

“No?” He taunted. “But you were asking for him a few days ago, weren’t you?”

You wanted to correct him, clairfy your intentions—whatever. But words were like putty to your brain, melting in every area that didn’t matter right now. It was his tone that stuck like glue. His grip on your face, the stern yet confused look he gave you, the way his rhythm never hiccuped or skipped; you didn’t think having Joel completely take charge would have you fucked out so soon, but you weren’t necessarily complaining either.

“I—“ You whined at a failed attempt to say something. “I didn’t mean it! I’m sor- I’m so fucking sorry, daddy…”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry. I’ll never fucking— I’ll never ask for him again! Please, Joel I’m—“

“Who fucks you better? Huh? Me or Tommy?”

“Wha—?”

Joel grinned down at you, hand moving from your face to your hair. “Who fucks you better?”

“You— Joel, you. I lo— You fuck me better than fucking anyone.” You wrapped your trembling legs around his hips, hands clinging to his face now. “My pussy belongs to you, baby. My pussy was made for you—Joel I’m gon—“

He couldn’t stop now, not when you were so close and trying to tell him you were going to come. As tired as his hips and legs were he didn't dare stop or slow down, forcing every fiber of his being to persevere through the aches.

"Whose pussy is this, baby?” He cooed.

“Yours-“

“Who?”

“You, daddy! Fuck— aghh- you, Joel-“

“Hmm?” He brushed his nose against your skin, eyes burning into yours with conviction. “Tell me again,” he mumbled.

“Joel! I can’t—fuck! I belong to you Joel, only you, please let me-“

He carelessly slapped your face, pinching your cheeks again. “You ever fucking ask for anybody else again—“

You were frustrated and on the fucking edge, just barely hanging on. Nothing could distract you from the knots your stomach was twisting itself into. You’d do anything…

“I won’t! Iwon’tIwon’tIwon’t—please let me cum, daddy…”

Joel was quiet for a second, pretending to debate with himself but he couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he grunted, “you’re doing so good for me, baby. Cum for me, give it all to me.”

You tangled your fingers in his sweaty curls and pressed your body into him; with arched feet and tear-filled eyes your pussy clenched around him tighter than he’d ever felt before. It was enough to trigger his own orgasm.

As the wax crackled in and against your flesh you felt pieces of yourself fade away. You were so overcome with freedom your body convulsed and pulled him in closer, deeper.

The obscene squelching between your bodies combined with your desperate whines pushed Joel to fuck you past his own climax.

“Fuck,” he breathed out loudly into your ear, though you didn’t necessarily register it, “pussy’s fucking grippin’ me.”

He kissed away the sweat and the tears from your flushed cheeks, his pace finally having faltered to stillness. Yet without much of a thought he slid down your body, his knees hitting the floor with a thud and tongue dipping into the clear and white mixture that placed itself everywhere.

He watched your cunt ache with emptiness, then filled you back up with his cum using his thick fingers. Your legs clamped shut as he immediately curled into your g-spot, but with a wordless smack to your thigh you hesitantly spread yourself wide again.

You cried out a worthless plea that only seemed to humor him.

“You were just beggin’ for it ‘n now you want me to stop?” He chuckled.

You opened your mouth to protest. “I-ahh, fuck…” But him sucking on your clit shut you up.

With his other hand pressed into the chipped wax on your belly he held you in place.

“One more, baby please,” he moaned between licks. “I missed this pussy so much…”

His pathetic tone gave him away, his insecurities. You assured him to keep going by tugging his hair saying his name.

You allowed him the privilege of tasting you and having you in whatever way he wanted. It wasn’t like he was torturing you…anymore.

And just a few moments later you were right there again — crying, whining, arching your back off of the bed and creaming around his fingers. You tried desperately to form words but the only word that left from behind your lips was his name.

With Joel writing love letters with his tongue you felt closer to him and God than ever and to never return down to reality.

He brought his eyes up to admire your pornographic expression, all fucked up from him, and finally he felt secure again. His sucking eased up as did his sore hand and he gently pulled away.

“Shh, shh, I got you,” he whispered after climbing back in bed next to you.

He pulled you into his lap and let you come back to reality in your own time; he massaged your back and kissed your warm forehead, subtly smiling when your limbs latched around his waist.

“You did such a good job, baby,” he praised, and you could only hum in response. “Did such a good job.”

“Thank you, baby,” you mumbled.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you… I’m sorry fo—“

“Shh shh shh… We’ll talk later, babygirl. How ‘bout we just get you cleaned up? Yeah? Okay.”

You were carried by him while he turned the dying camera off and then to the bathroom where he helped you pick off some of the wax after drawing a bath.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad now, did I?” He asked, grimacing when some of the wax was being stubborn.

“No,” you told him honestly. “I liked it, it was fun.”

He smirked at your reflection. “Yeah? Well listen, I don’t wanna have to do that again. Not unless you ask.”

“I’ll do my best to behave Mr. Miller,” you half joked.

“Uh-huh. M’sure you will. Come on the tubs ready.”

You sank into the hot water, hissing at the change kn temperature.

“I’ll, uh, change the sheets and then I’ll get in with ya… Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

He took a few minutes to collect himself in the bedroom, wondering if he was being too harsh on you over a simple question. Though, it wasn’t really simple to him.

He felt he should have known or expected you to want Tommy again, or even someone else. While he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea he also knows that you have a job to ensure the security of.

You typically weren’t a woman to ask for a man’s permission when it came to anything, so the fact that you came to him meant more than he was initially willing to admit. And after your level of endurance today he saw how much more committed to him than you were to making content, so maybe… He could let it slide.

He found his way back to you soon enough and sat behind you as promised, smiling down at you when you looked up to him.

“I don’t even know why I asked,” you said after a tense moment of silence.

“I do,” he replied. “You weren’t wrong to ask me, sweetheart.”

“Maybe, but the way I worded it made it sound like… I dunno, like I didn’t want you anymore. And that’s not true. I shoulda… I should have known that—“

“You make porn, it’s not like you’re just asking to cheat on me,” he chuckled. “Well, it kinda is, but—“

“Stop,” you groaned and smacked his arm when he laughed.

“I get it. You have an audience to entertain, and I knew you weren’t tryin’ to toss me aside. It was the way you worded it, but I knew what you meant. And I’m sorry for holding out on you.”

“Joel, if I lost you over that… I don’t… I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Nodding, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your temple. “I know. I know. That’s why I’m willing to negotiate.”

“I don’t need that anymore,” you affirmed.

“I know, but… It was kind of fun. Maybe not Tommy again, but someone else?”

“I’ll think about it,” you promised. “But for now you and I need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you say?”

“How can I say no to that face?”

His Punishment Felt Like a Reward...

577K Views | 97% | 2 Days Ago | ♡ 889

a/n: sorry it took five whole months to get this request done, but i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did! xo love you

[universefcb]

Hi I love what you do could you do that hector is with the sister of marc guiu knowing very well that it's his little sister please

↬❥ Marc Guiu's sister

Hector Fort x Fem!Reader

sy: You and Hector have a multi-night stand, but she's the sister of one of his best friends. And you're insecure about it.

a/n: This request was made days ago, I just forgot to post it, sorry. And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

warnings: Conflicts, fights, kisses and a Hector crazy about the reader.

The Barcelona sun was beginning to set when Héctor Fort parked his car in front of Marc Guiu's house. He knew he was about to step onto dangerous ground, but he couldn't help himself. Not when it came to her.

You, Marc’s little sister, were everything Héctor knew he shouldn’t want, but at the same time, you were the only thing he could think about lately. They had known each other for years, but something between them had changed in the last few months. The way she looked at him, the way her smile seemed different when she was with him…

And it happened. Hector declared his love for her and they had a small, secret, non-serious relationship.

Marc had always been protective of the girl. Anyone at Barça knew that getting close to her was like signing a footballing death sentence. Marc would not tolerate any player approaching her with ulterior motives.

And Hector? Well, Héctor was one of Marc's best friends.

Still, there he was, knocking on the door of the Guiu house with his heart racing and his thoughts plunged into uncertainty.

The door opened, and it wasn't Marc who appeared, but HER. Her hair loose, her eyes shining with excitement, and that smile that always disarmed him.

“Héctor…” she said, surprised but clearly happy to see him.

“We need to talk,” he said, looking around to make sure Marc wasn’t around.

She looked inside the house before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“What is it?” she asked, crossing her arms, but with an amused tone in her voice.

“This has to stop.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “Marc will kill me if he finds out.”

She laughed.

“Are you afraid of my brother now, Héctor?” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a matter of fear, y/n. It’s respect. He trusts me. If he finds out that I’m… that we’re…”

“What are we?” she teased, tilting her head.

“That I am completely in love with you.”

Her expression softened. The playfulness in her eyes gave way to something deeper.

"Hector…"

He sighed, stepping closer.

“I can’t help it. I tried to ignore it, I tried to walk away, but when I’m with you… it feels like nothing else matters.”

“What if Marc finds out?” She bit her lip, hesitant.

“I don’t know. But I’m willing to take the risk.” Héctor held her hand firmly.

For a moment, silence fell between the two. Then, Sofia smiled.

“Then I think we’ve taken too long to do this.”

And without thinking twice, she approached, joining her lips to his. Héctor felt a shock run through his body, but the moment he hugged her, he knew he was lost.

If that was a mistake, it was one he would make again and again. Now, all that was left to do was find out how long they had until Marc Guiu found out. After they walked away, she gave him an awkward smile and wiped her mouth, watching him do the same. They went inside the house as if nothing had happened and Marc went downstairs.

“Hi, you didn’t tell me you were coming.” He crossed his arms, following his sister with his gaze until she disappeared into the kitchen.

“I was nearby and decided to stop by.”

You and Hector knew you were playing with fire, but that only made it all the more intense. The kiss from that night was still burning in both of your minds, and every secret look you exchanged, every discreet touch when no one was looking, only made it harder to keep it all hidden.

But the inevitable happened faster than they imagined.

Marc Guiu may be a great striker on the pitch, but off it he was also very clever. And nothing went unnoticed by him, especially when it came to his sister. And it was in a Barcelona training session that everything started to come together.

Héctor was in the locker room when he felt a shadow hovering over him. He looked up to find Marc standing with his arms crossed, his gaze hard and cold.

“I need to talk to you,” Marc said, his voice tense.

The entire locker room fell silent. The other players exchanged glances, sensing the tension in the air. With no other option, Héctor stood up and followed Marc into a more secluded hallway.

The attacker suddenly turned, his gaze fierce.

“Are you dating my sister?” Héctor froze.

He could lie. He could say that Marc was imagining things, that there was nothing between him and you but friendship. But something inside him refused to do that. He took a deep breath and held Marc's gaze.

"Yes." Marc's face turned red in an instant.

“Are you kidding me, Fort?”

“I’m not! And I know I should have told you sooner, but–

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a strong push in his chest.

“You’re my best friend!” Marc growled. “How dare you?

“Because I like her, Marc. A lot!” Héctor didn’t back down.

“Marc!” You crossed the hall, quickly going to them, taking Marc’s hands off Hector. “Please, no.

She stood in front of Hector as she looked at her brother.

Silence fell between them. Marc’s chest rose and fell, his anger evident. But he knew Héctor. He knew his friend wasn’t the type to play with someone’s feelings.

“If you hurt my sister…” Marc clenched his fists.

“I would never do that!” he grabbed her shoulders.

The two's eyes faced each other for a few more seconds, until Marc let out a long sigh and turned his back.

“It’s going to take me a while to get used to this,” he said, before leaving without looking back.

You sighed, turning to Hector, analyzing every inch of his face.

“I’ll talk to him later. Are you okay?” Her hands cupped his face.

“I guess we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now.” He smiled, moving his hands down to her waist.

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?” he laughed, feeling kisses being placed on his face.

[elvisbdoll]

“Be mine, always”

Summary: On Valentine’s Day in 1977, Elvis struggles with his declining health and fame but finds comfort in his love for you. He gives you a locket engraved “Be Mine, Always,” a heartfelt reminder that no matter what, his heart is yours forever.

Tw: mentions of Elvis health, uh I think that’s it. The other it’s pure fluff

Pairing: black!reader X 1977s!elvis

A/N: I know I’m a bit late, but work, anyways enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day babes!

Graceland – February 14, 1977

The early morning light barely cuts through the heavy curtains of Graceland, leaving the bedroom shrouded in a golden haze. The air inside feels thick, warm, still—like time itself has settled in for a long rest. A radio hums softly in the background, playing a familiar tune, but the man lying in the king-sized bed hardly stirs.

Elvis is awake, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for the clock on the nightstand, doesn’t even open his eyes. He just listens. The deep ache in his body, one he’s grown used to, lingers like a second heartbeat, and he’s exhausted before the day has even begun.

But today isn’t just any day. It’s Valentine’s Day.

And you’re coming to see him.

That thought alone is enough to force his tired body upright. He groans slightly as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair is a little messier than usual, and the weight he’s been carrying on his frame these past few months makes his movements slow, but none of that matters now.

Because despite everything—the fatigue, the pressures of fame, the whispers about his health—he’s determined to make today special for you.

Even if he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, he still wants to be your Elvis.

———————————————

By the time you arrive at Graceland later that morning, the mansion is unusually quiet. You let yourself in, the way you always do, and step into the grand foyer, where the air smells faintly of roses and leather, of old books and cologne.

“Elvis?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly against the marble floors.

A moment later, you hear the shuffling of feet, and then there he is, standing at the top of the staircase.

And your heart clenches.

He looks… tired. More so than the last time you saw him. His skin is paler, his frame heavier beneath his silk pajama top, and though he flashes you that signature grin, there’s something behind it—something you don’t quite have the words for.

But then, he’s moving toward you, coming down the stairs slowly, carefully, as if each step is an effort. And yet, when he reaches the bottom, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the kind of embrace that feels like home.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze him tighter. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

For a long moment, you just stand there, breathing each other in.

———————————————

Elvis has always been extravagant when it comes to gifts. Over the years, you’ve received diamonds, fur coats, and rare, expensive perfumes—all things that would make any woman swoon.

But this year, something is different.

This year, he’s been agonizing over what to give you.

Because deep down, he knows that material things don’t matter to you—not really. You’ve never cared about the flashy gifts, the lavish displays of wealth.

What you want is him.

The man beneath the rhinestones. The soul beneath the spotlight.

And that scares him.

Because he doesn’t know how much of himself he has left to give.

———————————————

He takes you to the den, where the two of you settle onto the couch. A fire crackles softly in the fireplace, and he leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder.

“Y’know,” he starts, his voice quieter now, “I must’ve spent the last week tryin’ to figure out what to get you.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “I don’t need anything, Elvis.”

“I know, baby. But I wanna give you somethin’.” He exhales, and his body feels heavier against yours. “Only thing is… nuthin’ feels like enough.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it, as if he’s not enough. As if he’s failing you.

“Elvis—”

He pulls away just enough to reach into his robe pocket, his fingers curling around something cool and solid. When he brings it out, your breath catches.

A small, silver locket rests in his palm. It’s beautifully simple, delicate, and when he gently places it in your hands, you see that there’s an engraving on the back.

“Be Mine, Always.”

Tears prick at your eyes. “Elvis…”

“Open it,” he urges softly.

With slightly trembling fingers, you do—and inside, there’s a tiny photo of the two of you, taken years ago when things felt easier, lighter. When he wasn’t battling his health the way he is now.

You trace the edges of the locket with your thumb, overwhelmed. “This is beautiful.”

He shifts beside you, swallowing hard. “I know I ain’t the same man I used to be, baby.” His voice wavers, and it takes everything in you not to cry. “I know I look different, feel different… but I need you to know somethin’.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it tight. “No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, you got my heart. Always.”

You blink back tears. “You don’t have to be the man you were, Elvis. I love you now. Just as you are.”

He lets out a shaky breath, nodding, but you can tell he doesn’t fully believe it.

So you do the only thing you can.

You kiss him.

Softly at first, then deeper, pouring every ounce of love you have into it. He sighs against your lips, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you close.

For the first time in a long time, he lets himself feel loved.

Truly loved.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

———————————————

The rest of the evening is spent in quiet, easy intimacy.

You order dinner in—because the idea of Elvis exhausting himself by going out feels wrong—and eat together in his bedroom, curled up beneath silk sheets. He’s warm beside you, his arm draped lazily over your waist, and for the first time in weeks, he seems content.

At one point, he hums softly, a familiar melody, and you recognize it instantly.

“Love me tender, love me sweet…”

His voice is softer now, raspier, but just as beautiful as ever.

You smile. “Sing the whole thing for me?”

He tilts his head, giving you a lazy grin. “Only if you promise to stay right here with me.”

You tuck yourself closer to him. “Always.”

And so he sings, his voice wrapping around you like a lullaby.

Outside, the world still expects him to be Elvis Presley, the legend, the king.

But here, in the dim glow of the bedroom, he’s just a man in love.

And for tonight, that’s all he needs to be.

Tags: @kxnnxy @jhoneybees @gyratingpresley @buglass @iloveelvisss

(Pls let me know if you want be added or deleted from the tags! )

[ripdragonbeans]

Love In The Darkest Of Places // modern!Aemond x Reader

Chapter 9: Healing is a Process

Summary: Focusing on bringing Alys down, you and Aemond get caught up in the rush of it all, causing you two to burn out. What better way to help that than therapy?

A/N: Love my @exitpursuedbyavulcan lol

Masterlist

Chapter 8 // Chapter 10

Curled up next to Aemond, you gently played with his beautiful long hair as you both faced the computer monitor. Every time either of you looked at Aemond’s draft to the head of the university, you would freeze. Both of you wanted Alys out of your lives, out of the university, so why were you hesitating?

“We should gather more evidence if we can,” you offered. “Maybe find some of the other guys she's gone after?”

Aemond shook his head. “I doubt any of them would want to call her out. They probably didn't even realize she was manipulating them. I didn't see it until I talked to you.” He sighed. “She's good at this game.”

“Are you going to send the report anonymously?” It was the first time you asked him.

“I'll send the report anonymously, but I'm not going to erase my name from the texts. They need to see every step she does, including calling me by my name.” He took a breath. “But if you want me to go completely anonymous, I will, and I understand. I don’t mind pulling myself through the mud, but I don’t want you to get dragged as well.”

You moved to sit in Aemond’s lap and faced him. Holding his gaze, you told him, “I am never leaving you again. You go through hell, I go through hell. Together forever.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. I'm not going to hide.”

Moving off his lap, you stayed close and watched as he began typing vigorously. 

To whom it may concern, he typed. I write to you to inform you that one of your staff members, Professor Alys Rivers, has engaged in inappropriate conduct with students. Attached to this email are screenshots of conversations between her and me, Aemond Targaryen. 

I trust that appropriate action will be taken in this matter, and I am happy to cooperate with any further investigation you require.

Sincerely, 

Aemond Targaryen

Taking a big breath, Aemond sent the email. When he looked to you, you gave him a reassuring smile, took his hand, brought it up to your lips, and gently kissed the back of it. 

“I'm so proud of you,” you whispered. “She will not get away with this, not anymore.” As you looked at him, you noticed how exhausted he looked. You knew it must have taken a lot out of him. It was one thing to admit all that has happened to you, but to go public with it is another story. “Come on,” you tugged on his hand as you stood up. “Let's go somewhere.”

As you pulled up to the building and got out of the car you gave Aemond a small smile. 

“The library?” He asked.

“You always feel better after you've been to the library,” you shrugged. “So I figured why not take a quick trip.”

Aemond pulled you into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

When you broke away from the hug, you took his hand and pulled him over to the library, not that he needed any goading; you just enjoyed pulling him around sometimes. As you entered the library the smell of books immediately surrounded you. It was a warm and cozy feeling. Hand in hand, you wandered the isles of many books until you each found a few to borrow for the month. Before checking out, however, you found yourself in a cozy alcove upstairs where the two of you could begin reading one of your books.

The quietness of the library was a welcome reprieve from the loud noise going on in your head and you figured it was the same with Aemond. With so much going on in life it was important to you that you and Aemond both find ways to settle all that noise and take a breather every now and then.

You closed your book, a good fourth in already. “Ready to head out?” you whispered to Aemond.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” he closed his book. When he stood up from the very pillowed chair he stretched his arms high, revealing a little bit of skin as he did so.

You smiled seeing that little glimpse of his stomach. Instead of being a menace, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing your face against his body, you inhaled his scent and took the moment in. For the first time in a while, you and Aemond were at peace. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around you. He tilted your head up by lifting your chin and pressed his forehead against yours. “This is nice,” he said quietly.

You murmured your agreement.

Within the peace and quiet of the library, you and Aemond were both able to find yourselves again and plant your feet well into the ground again.

“How do you feel about therapy?” you asked him the next day. It had been on your mind for a while, and you thought it would be good for both of you. You fixed your breakfast as you waited for his answer.

“Like talking to someone about everything?” Aemond paused. “It's crossed my mind a few times, yeah.”

Crossing across to the couch, you sat down next to him. “I think it would be a good idea,” you offered. “Maybe couples counseling, too.”

Aemond turned to you quickly. “Do you think we need help? I can do better. We can work it out.” His eye widened in horror.

“No, Aemond, we're okay,” you reassured him, then shrugged. “I just think it would be healthy for us, especially after all that's happened.” 

“I think therapy is a good idea,” he said after a while. “I still haven't fully comprehended everything that's happened and,” Aemond sighed, “I want to feel better. I want to be better, for you and for me.”

“Then let's do it.” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek. “Couples therapy it is. Do you want to go on your own, too?”

“I think I will. It'll probably be for the best.”

You smiled. “I agree.” Wrapping your arms around him, you held Aemond close to you—close to your heart. You would never let him go, not anymore, and you would never let someone make him feel so inferior ever again.

The waiting room in the therapy center was painted a dull brown, creating a neutral-esque environment. It was all brown. Different shades of brown. The chairs and benches, however, weren’t brown; they were black. It was a very boring sitting room, you thought, but it was better than being overstimulating.

As you sat with Aemond, you noticed he was bouncing his leg. “Nervous?” 

Aemond continued to bounce his leg. “On edge, I would say.”

On this day, Aemond donned his usual eye patch and pulled his hair up in a bun. He was dressed casually, but being Aemond, he looked like he had an important interview to attend.

You placed a hand on his knee. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You looked around. There was no one else in the waiting room, and granted, it was later in the day as well. After a few minutes of silence, a door opened, and a man called out your name and Aemond’s. As you two stood up, Aemond nervously wiped his hands on his pants. Instinctively, you reached out and took his hand.

“We'll be right over here,” said the man you assumed to be the therapist. “Sit anywhere you like, and please make yourselves comfortable.” He smiled warmly before going behind his desk. “Hello, I will be your therapist, Dr. Simon Strong. A lot goes into this, so let's start at the very beginning. How did you two meet?”

Aemond, hesitant, didn't say anything, so you took it upon yourself to begin the conversation. 

“We met when we were children. Our mothers were, emphasis on “were,” close, and when they drifted apart, we stayed friends. We were neighbors, actually.”

“And how did that help build your relationship?” Dr. Strong asked.

“It brought us closer together,” you shrugged.

“She was my only friend,” Aemond said carefully. “She would visit a lot and wasn't scared of my brother or off-put by my sister, like some other people who had tried to be friends with me.”

Dr. Strong raised his eyebrows. “Your only friend?”

Aemond shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I didn't have many friends growing up; it was more of just her and my siblings.” He looked at you. “But she's the best person that's ever walked into my life, and for that, I'm grateful.”

The therapist nodded. “Now, I would like you two to tell me why you want to do couple's therapy.”

You answered without hesitation. “We want to have a healthy relationship.”

“I had an …issue with a past relationship, and I don't want that again,” Aemond added.

Dr. Simon Strong leaned forward with interest. “Ah. We’ll get that later. Here is my question: has your relationship always been romantic?

You shook your head and laughed, “No, it was never like that. We were children; we didn’t know what love was. We knew we cared about each other, but that was it.” You tried to push away some of your very first feelings for him.

“I think I was always in love with you,” whispered Aemond.

“Aemond…” you paused to take a breath. “Now that I think about it, I think I was always in love with you, too.” You turned to Dr. Strong. “I think we both fell in love early on but didn’t quite know what it was,” you cleared up.

“That’s fair. Many do not understand the deep and abstract concept of love outside of caring for others when they are young children.”

“All I knew then is that I cared about her. There wasn’t exactly any love between my mother and father,” Aemond said. “I had no real example of what love was supposed to look like.”

“And there is no one-fits-all all when it comes to love,” Dr. Strong added. “Every couple looks different. What matters is that both parties are happy and healthy. Are there any moments in your history as children that stick out to you?”

“When I was sick once he brought me soup,” you offered. “It wasn’t much, it was very simple, but I remember feeling cared for.”

Aemond cocked his head to the side. “I remember that. You were running a high fever and were suffering from body chills.” He looked at you. “I knew even then I wanted to take care of you. I didn’t like it when you got sick or hurt, but I’m glad you always came to us when something happened.”

“It wasn’t like I could go to my mother or father,” you scoffed. Turning to Dr. Strong, you explained to him, “My family was never the most supportive of me. I know for a fact they never wanted me, and they weren’t eager to hide it.”

“That must have been very traumatic for you,” Dr. Strong replied.

You shrugged. “It’s something I grew up with. It’s more like background noise at this point.”

“It still follows you?”

“I guess it kinda hangs over me.”

“I see…” Dr. Strong scribbled something down. “What about you, Aemond? How is your relationship with your family?”

“My birth dad is nonexistent. I don’t want him around. My mother and my siblings care about me, and I care about them. I know there is love and support between us all.”

Dr. Strong addressed both you and Aemond with his next question. “Have either of you had previous relationships?”

Silence enveloped the room. 

“Not me,” you said, breaking the silence. Well, Aemond thought I was in a relationship with someone else, but I wasn’t.”

Dr. Strong straightened his back. “Oh?”

“It was this double date she and I were practically forced into when we were in high school,” Aemond explained. “We didn’t go on the double date as a couple but as a part of the other’s date. It was a mess. I got jealous, and I tried to make her jealous and it ended up with both of us getting hurt.”

“Has that event shaped how you two are now as a couple?”

“Not that one specifically, but…” you trailed off to let Aemond bring her up. She had to be talked about. She was the elephant in the room.

“My professor. One of my university professors coerced me into a relationship with her,” said Aemond. His face had gone blank and devoid of emotion.

“Was there anything that led you to be in a relationship with this person? From what you have told me, the two of you are very close.”

You hesitated. “I told him I couldn’t be with him. We kissed, a heat of the moment thing, and I freaked out and ran away and told him I couldn’t let myself be with him.”

“And how did that make you feel, Aemond?”

“I was… heartbroken, I guess. I didn’t know what to do.”

“And how did this professor coerce you into a relationship?”

“She flirted with me. A lot, actually.”

Hearing this made your blood boil but you kept your anger and jealousy down to let Aemond tell his story.

“She would call me to her office, and we would talk. She would make leading comments and ask questions bordering on inappropriate. At first, I hated it, but then I started to want that; that feeling of someone wanting me.”

Your heart dropped as though it was attached to a rock and then thrown into a lake to drown.

“The day she kissed me…I felt wanted, and that’s what I was looking for, what I so desperately needed.” Aemond turned to you. “I never initiated any of our intimate moments, including kisses or hugs. Everything was started by her.” He turned back to Dr. Strong. “I was just going through the motions. There was maybe a time I felt like I actually cared for her; I did care for her in a way, but not in the way I care about my…” he trailed off and looked back at you. “You. I never cared for her the same way I care for you. Alys was all physical, not even always wanted. I let her do whatever to me just so I could feel like I was wanted by someone.”

Tears were streaming down your face. “Oh, Aemond, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged off the apology. “It was my choice to follow her and I regret it every day.”

“Well,” Dr. Strong started, “that is certainly a lot to hop into.” He made sure to look at both of you. “You did really well, you both did. You should be proud of yourselves for opening up not just to me, but to each other. I can tell you two care about each other a lot and want this to work. That’s good.”

“Do you have any suggestions for us as a couple?” you asked.

“As a couple, not really. I do encourage you to continue talking openly with each other. That does wonders in a relationship. Communication is key. Individually,” Dr. Strong looked at you, “you should try reaching out to your family, maybe they’ve grown, maybe not. If you would not like to reach out to them, that is up to you, but I think you may find some closure. As for you, Aemond,” he turned to face him, “I would consider a companion to have around when your significant other is unable to be with you. A dog, perhaps? A cat is easy to take care of, not a fish, someone you could find comfort in when things are too hard. Both of you taking care of an animal would be beneficial to you as a couple as well.”

The two of you nodded. 

As the session went on, Aemond talked about Alys and their relationship and how it has formed who he was now. Hearing him talk about her made you uncomfortable but hearing how uncomfortable she made him made you mad.You thought back to the first time Aemond had told you about Alys and when you had caught them in the hallway. It was her that initiated it; not him. It made you feel better, in a way, but you were still not a fan of it. But then he had seemed so…besotted with her. Knowing now that it had been more infatuation and physical than anything helped how you felt about the whole situation. However, it had you wondering about the dinner you had with them as well. Aemond seemed so out of it and now you knew why. 

During the session, you touched on your family a bit more and how they treated you and how that shaped who you were now. It was…difficult to talk about them. When you had your last conversation with Jace you thought that would be the last of it. That may not be the case anymore. 

 Aemond began speaking. “There… there is one other thing I’d like to talk about before leaving: my eye.”

“Ah, yes, I was wondering if you were going to bring it up. What would you like to say about it.”

“I won’t give all the gruesome details, but if anyone’s ever been there for me, it’s her.” Aemond reached out and grabbed your hand. “She was the one who gave me the sapphire in my eye, actually.”

“I have a matching necklace,” you added.

“If it weren’t for her always being there for me, I honestly don’t know where I would be now. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

You squeezed Aemond’s hand and looked at him. “I don’t know where I’d be, either, Aemond.”

When you and Aemond finally broke your gaze and looked back at Dr. Simon Strong, you found him smiling at the pair of you. “You two will do well in therapy. You have already done a good job of communicating and this is only the first session. We’ll see you in a week? I normally see my patients every week and then we slowly start to add more and more time in between sessions.”

“Yeah, in a week is good,” you said.

“Wonderful,” Dr. Simon Strong smiled at you. “Now it is time for Aemond’s session by himself. You can wait in the waiting room.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Strong,” you shook his hand and then turned to give Aemond a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

The drive back to Aemond’s apartment after the therapy sessions that day was quiet, but in a good way. Both of you have been carrying baggage and now that it was all out in the open the air felt cleaner. You glanced at Aemond through your peripheral vision and smiled. He was gazing out the window.

“Everything all right?” you asked him.

Your question apparently startled him. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

“We did a lot today. I’m proud of us but I’m mostly proud of you, Aemond.”

He let out a breath that sounded like a chuckle. “I’m glad I can make you proud, my dear.”

“Oh? Have we graduated to pet names now?” You said with a joking edge knowing that using pet names and nicknames were a bit of a sore spot for him after her.

Aemond took a beat. “Yeah, I think we have.” He moved a hand onto your thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I’m honored to have you as mine, my love.”

If you could have, you would have pulled over to the side of the road and kissed him right then and there, but you couldn’t. Instead, without taking your eyes off the road, you brought his hand to your lips and gently brushed them against his knuckle. “As am I.”

Despite living with Helaena, you found yourself spending more and more time with Aemond. A few days later, you found yourself curled against Aemond’s body in bed. While you were awake, Aemond was softly snoring, still asleep. His arm was draped around you and held you close, your back pressed against his stomach. You turned to look at him and take in his beauty. With his eyepatch discarded on the bedside table, his sapphire shined in the morning light. His long hair was sprawled out on his pillow as his head was turned towards you, as though the last thing he saw before falling asleep was you. Smiling to yourself, you basked in the moment. It was peaceful.

After a few minutes of beautiful silence, you gently roused Aemond from his sleep. “Wake up, my dear.”

Aemond mumbled something and simply pulled you closer, burying his 

“Aemond,” you groaned, “it's time to get up.”

“It’s too early.”

“No, it's not. Come on, let's get going.”

“Fine,” said Aemond, dragging out the word.

You finally shimmied out of his grasp and sat up in bed. Gently pulling up Aemond to a sitting position, you laughed as he pretended to resist you. Once you got him sitting up, he immediately fell on top of you, completely limp.

“Help, I've fallen and I can't get up,” he said half heartedly.

You had to wiggle him off of you to be able to get off the bed. When you were able to actually get up, Aemond relented and did so as well. With his hair all messy, he muttered something about being tired then flipped his hair out of his face. Lumbering over to his closet he pulled out his clothes for the day. You watched him as he changed, unmoved from your spot in the room. As if he felt your eyes on him he turned around. 

“Like what you see?” he playfully asked.

You took a few steps closer to him. “Of course I do, my love.”

Aemond hummed contently as you hugged him. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “It’s time for you to change out of your pajamas as well.”

“What? You don’t like my shorts paired with one of your shirts?” you teased.

“Honestly, I love it, but where we’re going may require a change of clothes,” Aemond said.

With his words, you remembered the goal of the day. You were going to begin the process of adopting a dog.

[cyanide-and-roses]

Vengeance and Valentines

Two-Face x Female Reader

⁽ᶜᵂ: ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ, ʸᵃⁿᵈᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ⁾

(Author's note: this was originally a request for @yandere-wishes, but I accidentally deleted the original draft. My bad, I can be such a ditz. Anyways, happy Valentine's Day!)

You carefully inspected the image reflected in your vanity mirror. You had a date tonight, and your mind was filled to the brim with worry. Was your makeup good? Did your jewelry match your outfit? Was the dress you picked out good enough?

You take a deep breath.

"You look perfect." you told yourself, your reassuring smile reflected back at you.

You turn your attention to the alarm clock sitting across the room on your bedside table.

It's 6:00 PM. One hour before Harvey should be here.

"Maybe I should have waited a bit before I got ready." you sigh. Well, now you've got some time to kill. You grab a book from your bookshelf and go to sit on the edge of your bed.

You open the book and find yourself unable to focus on the words in the page, your mind still racing with worry.

"Are you putting yourself in danger by dating a known criminal?" You ask yourself.

Not only was he wanted by the police, but there's plenty of monsters who have a bone to pick with your lover. Sure, Harvey, as well as his alter Two-Face, wouldn't let any of them lay a finger in you, but you'd have to be stupid to ignore the fact that by associating with them, you're putting a target on your back.

Two-Face is also known to get jealous. You recall how a few weeks ago he snapped and threatened one of his henchmen because he believed they were ogling you. The poor bastard swore up and down that he was doing no such thing, but Two-Face wasn't having it. You had to talk him out of hurting the guy.

Even though it is obvious that what you're doing is dangerous, you're still hesitant to leave Harvey. You love him, after all, and you seem to have evaded misfortune so far. There's also a small part of you, a darker, maybe even masochistic side of you, that wants to find out how bad it can get.

You try to ignore all these thoughts racing around your mind but to no avail. Frustrated, you put down the book and look at the clock.

An hour and twenty minutes has passed.

"Where the hell is he?" you mutter in mild annoyance, before you hear a knock at the door. You quickly make your way out of your room and to the front door.

Upon opening the door, you are greeted by the sight of your darling in his usual two-toned suit, stained with blotches of deep red blood.

"Sorry I'm late," he begins to speak, ignoring the shocked expression on your face. "I forgot I had some last minute business to attend to."

"Harvey... you're..."

"Oh, right! The blood. Didn't have time to change. We'll just swing by my place before we head out to dinner." He takes you by the arm rather suddenly and leads you to his car which he parked in your driveway. He ushers you into the backseat, before he gets up front and starts the car.

Once the shock wears off a little, you gather up enough courage to ask what exactly is going on.

"Somebody's been getting too close to you for my liking." He explains, still very nonchalant about the very strange situation he's put you in. "You know that guy you work with? The chatty one?"

Dreads courses through your veins as you figure out what he's going to say next.

"He was just a coworker! You didn't need to kill the man!"

"Just a coworker? The man has been planning to ask you out for a while." Harvey justifies.

"How would you know that? What, have you been watching him? Going through his stuff? Fuck, even if he was going to ask me out, I would have just turned him down!"

Harvey's jaw clenches. You can tell you're starting to anger him.

"(Y/N), I trust you enough to know you won't leave me, but that doesn't mean I can stand idly by as somebody tries to steal you away. It doesn't matter that they won't succeed, it's the fact they even think about it in the first place." He says, trying to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible.

There's a silence between the two of you for a few minutes, before Two-Face speaks up.

"I could have been more brutal, you know? The bastard got lucky. If he lost the coin toss, I would've prolonged his death. He's lucky he just got a knife through the heart."

You don't respond.

"Look, I know what I did was drastic. I know I scared you, but I did it because I love you too much to risk losing you. Now, we're almost at my place. How about I get changed, then we enjoy our night out, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you."

Harvey waits for your response.

"Alright, babe... let's just get going." You sigh and force a smile.

You knew how dangerous loving this man could get. There's no backing out now. All you have to do is ignore the dread in your stomach and try to enjoy your special night out.

[cain-e-brookman]

Hey y'all, @creatingblackcharacters has created a challenge for Black History Month and I thought I'd share my entry. I'd like to tag @topazadine @illarian-rambling @mx-ryder and @spideronthesun for the challenge as well!

Uthyr is the main character of my current WIP: The Name, Witch. His is a story of healing, of putting down shame, and of being true to the spirit of what created you, no matter how the world wants you to bend. This is a scene that takes place about 10 years before we meet him in this same garden. Uthyr's greatest victory is always against despair. Uthyr's strength is in his conviction to himself, the culture and virtues that were passed onto him, and his love for the world around him. In my writing, I want my Black audience to see their own resilience in Uthyr. I want to highlight Black men in roles that are softer, but no less strong.

I also sincerely hope that this book can be a long shout out to my Black autistic sibs who are also obsessed with bugs, amphibians, and/or reptiles. I gave my hyperfixation to Uthyr, and I hope you feel seen with it as well. As I said in the comments to a very needed check, joy is just as important as resiliency, and I hope you find as much happiness as Uthyr does in with cold little buddies!

---

perhaps on the crest of each stiff blade of grass hangs the eternal name of someone who was once loved but is now vanished and just another name in an endless field of names that is newly remembered with each return trip of the eager nose...

-Hanif Abdurraqib from "The Crown Ain't Worth Much

The hydrangea bush to the north of his house was the first thing Uthyr put into the soil in his soon-to-be garden. An old witch tradition. The color of the flowers changed with the humors of the soil. Uthyr didn’t know which color he hoped for, just that it grew to be strong. He hoped the plant would grant him the same blessing.

The last thirty-some years of Uthyr’s life had left behind the cooled pyres of his family, and the last two since the death of his mother had left him adrift. The first, a long year where he’d traveled to nowhere in particular, stayed where he found place to stay, and searched desperately for a purpose. At the end of that long year, he realized, exuberantly, there was none. No end to rush to, no greater deed to be done. He would not be rewarded for suffering, would not reach some peak where it became all worth it. He would not find a purpose, nor would he make his own. He would, instead, simply live. Live brightly, now. Live fearlessly, now. He didn't know where he would go, but he knew where he would start.

He practiced his healing for the first time since his father died. A young girl had taken a fall in the small town in which he was staying. He'd gone to her without a thought, placed his hands around the break, and reached out where he knew the magic still laid. The feel of bone knitting beneath his fingers nearly had him in tears. He could hear his father’s warm, heavy voice as he worked:

Bone remembers its home, just not the way back. Remind it gently, and its journey will be painless.

The little girl hadn’t even cried. He’d pulled a dandelion seed that had stuck itself on his cloak and grew it into a miniature sun before placing it behind her ear for bravery. The Sun Goddess rarely answered his beckons for fire, and his stubbornness never won out over the Stone’s, but neither skill brought about the smiles of gratitude he’d seen in all his time healing. He wished it hadn’t taken him so long to appreciate that part of himself, that part of his father’s influence.

Then, after a long while of fighting with his own head, he finally chose himself. Two weeks in a temple to the God of the Golden Moon saw him leaving behind the word “daughter,” to be replaced with a name that held responsibility to no one but himself. Uthyr of the Asphodels, First of His Name. His mother’s now held nothing a burden of failure on his shoulders. He could have been better for her. Should have been better. But he could not make the dead proud, so he cast off the guilt. It no longer served either of them. 

He changed his hair. Spent a long day removing neat rows of braids from his head, combing and washing then rolling his hair like he’d seen his uncle do so many times. At the end of it all, he had sore arms and a deep satisfaction. The start of those locs still stuck oddly from his head in their awkward stage.

“Ugly stage,” his mother used to tease Uncle Callum when they recounted stories of their youth. His uncle would always raise an eyebrow and inform her in no uncertain terms that he’d never been ugly a day in his life. Uthyr planted snapdragons by his window for them both; their favorites. Yellow for his mom. Purple for his uncle. The seeds had been expensive for the paltry savings he’d kept from his brief stint of odd-job healing around the surrounding towns, but the memory of the two exchanging plants on their shared birthday had Uthyr lightening his coin purse without a second thought.

He continued with a few more plots around his house. A smattering of pansies for color, some herbs for healing, then some more for cooking… 

A single row of daffodils by his doorway. For his father. His birthday would be soon. Uthyr would cut one and light a candle. Pray the Death God pass on his love.

I’m alright, he’d tell his father. It’s hard and I’m tired, but it’s alright. I’ve got good soil under my feet and good hands to dig.

The anemones he planted on the shaded side of his house were for himself, though. They were delicate things, but right now so was his heart and that needed just as much care. He’d stay strong for them and they’d do the same for him. Water and sunlight. The start, his uncle would say, to any life worth living. 

And hope, Uthyr thought. Half of it was always hope.

When Uthyr finished for the day the sun was drawing long shadows across the forest floor. All but his pansies would not see color or flower for a long while, but as Uthyr dusted soil off the dark skin of his hands and forearms, he could already see the future it held. He would get some roses. Maybe not this year. He needed to plant his vegetable garden first. Maybe splurge on a fruit sapling. Tonight he would sit in his mostly empty home, cook a small pot of soup with ingredients from a garden that wasn’t his, and plan recipes for when his own produce grew. But as for now, he felt the waking breath of spring on his face, the softness of the grass under his legs as he dug his toes into the cool earth below him. 

A tentative peace was forming in his chest, walking haltingly like a newly born fawn. He’d found a creek not far from where he sat. He wondered if the tadpoles had yet grown legs.

---

And now, my excited rambling: the title of the poem before the cut is Notes On Waiting for the Dog to Find the Perfect Place to Take a Shit While Morning Cuts Through the Sky, Fresh From Another Darkness, which is quite possibly one of Abdurraqib's best titles and also a wonderful poem. I saw When I Say Loving Me Is Like Being a Chicago Bulls Fan posted on facebook at one point and I've been in love with his poetry since. The way he weaves pain and hope with his anger and his love in a way that criticizes a society that doesn't value himself or people like him, while celebrating his identity is both masterful and cutting. Listen to the man and buy his books! His essay collection, A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance is going to be my read for my essay collection square for the 2025 book bingo, and I'm really excited to finally get to it!