#you can immediately tell which one’s which well yes they have your names darling as well as your bedsheets that you had for years

[evermorepeyton]

my guy, what are you talking about, those are your legal names

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[waayfo]

i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)

dottore x gn!reader. lyric from national anthem (demo). mentions of killing or murder / possessiveness / mentions of dottore’s real name / pet names / cursing / slight ?? yandere / ooc ( kinda soft dottore ). english is not my first language !

You know that Dottore, or your boss is a mad man who does as he pleases—at least that's what people think. But he always acts a little differently to you, which clearly shows favoritism. An act of favoritism that is certainly not left to some other people.

Other people try to take advantage, by asking you to make dottore do something. The most common thing that happens is when they ask you to beg dottore to release their newest prisoner (?) that became the subject of Dottore's experiments who is either their family or friend or partner.

And of course, you’re not happy with it.

You are not a tool to fulfill their wishes. And they were merely just strangers who suddenly came to ask for help, without repaying.

You are pissed.

But also scared at the same time.

Just now you came out of the room called the ‘sacred’ dottore's office. But a stranger who you guess is a new worker just by looking at his impolite behavior, suddenly grabs your arm and takes you somewhere.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. Ignoring the fact that the stranger's hands were shaking violently.

The stranger is now facing you. While his hand was still gripping yours tightly, to the point where you were in pain. "P- please help me!"

You let out a harsh sigh. "No, i won't help you. Thanks to your very impolite behavior.”

“W- w- wait! What do you mean?! This is urgent, and you must help me!” The audacity, you curse him in your mind.

“I said no!” Those three words managed to make him angry instantly.

“You—you should know your place! Is it because you managed to tempt The Doctor with your body and face means you can do whatever you want?!” You winced at his words, it felt like you were being stabbed by a knife, even though you know that it's all not true.

“If you will not tell that crazy man to free my friend—I will cut off your head, and present it to him.” You just looked at him in disgust thinking that he was a strange man. A disgusting strange man.

“Fuck off!” You yell at him.

Long story short, you managed to release his grip. But you couldn't help but notice the bruise on your wrist. You are increasingly annoyed and decide to end all this in an ‘inelegant’ way; using your heels, you stomp on his feet full of revenge. It should hurt a lot, you think.

And when you saw his reaction of pain and screaming, you immediately ran as fast as you could. Your body feels like it's on autopilot when you subconsciously search for someone you know too well— A tall and pale skin man, with light blue and slightly wavy hair, which makes anyone know his identity. And makes anyone afraid and even begs for mercy.

And there he was, standing straight with his hands behind his back like always.

“—tore,” Your breath hitches but tries to reach for his name.

“Dottore!” The man— Dottore looked at you quickly, as if he had been looking for you all along. He opened his arms, making room for you to fall into his embrace again. And you (will) happily return to his arms.

“Zandik!” You call his name once again, as if it were a spell that could make you happy for eternity. “Yes, dear?”

He lifted your chin, making you look up at him. His hand moved to wipe away a few tears that had fallen. Ah, since when have i cried? Why did i cry?

“What happened?” His calm voice made you shudder. You tightened your grip on his white lab jacket. And you know it won't cause him any pain.

You shake your head. "Nothing happened."

“Something happened,” His other hand, covered in a glove made especially for him, is now cupping your cheek. And his other hand, stroking your hair. “Am i right?”

The words are reluctant to come out and get stuck in your throat. You were too afraid to answer, too afraid to imagine what would happen to that stranger.

Silence enveloped the room. You only feel warmth, whether because of the heater in the room or because of Dottore's touch.

Knowing there would be no answer from you, dottore sighed. He placed you to sit on his desk. The desk was a little messy because of the papers, but there was still a place for you to sit.

Dottore's head lifted so he could see your face and what expression you were wearing right now— scared, with traces of tears.

His hand again rose to cup your cheek, then traced every curve on your face that he thought was beautiful. The touch felt strangely soft. Knowing that it was a touch from The Doctor— someone who had killed many people in order to achieve perfect experimental results.

And when he was about to hold your hand, he noticed something. A bruise on your wrist, a fucking bruise. That somewhat pissed him off.

“Who did this to you?” You can easily tell that he is angry, by the way he talks and the questions he asks.

“It’s— it’s just a random bruise i got—” “Stop lying.”

You were silenced quickly.

“You’re always been patient when other people try to take advantage of you,” Dottore's calm voice was whispery. If he knew about it all along, why did he continue to comply with your request?

Dottore closed his eyes for a moment, trying to connect the dots. “Someone asked you for help again? And you refuse, then they gets angry?” You nod.

“Is it a new employee?” You nod again.

“Tell me about them.” You told him straight away.

Dottore nodded. He noted it in his mind.

Out of sudden, you cupped Dottore's face. Cold, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Everything about him was cold, and so was his skin. You saw his pale face, but you couldn't guess what expression he had behind his mask.

As if he could read your mind, he took off the mask that covered part of his face. He put the mask right next to you.

“You’re not angry?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“Because i touch you– i touch your face.”

“Foolish question. Absolutely no.”

Dottore's hand covered yours that was touching his face. Maybe dottore can see your cheeks are a little red right now. Maybe now that stranger is scared right now that you managed run away.

You kissed Dottore's forehead as a thank you.

“I'll take care of it quickly.” And you can't imagine what experiments Dottore would do to the stranger.

[wonysugar]

need sugarmommy wonyyyy

i need her too anon, i need ha tew..

okay but genuinely talking,, sugarmommy wonyoung would be so elegant? the rich, cold, collected and intimidating classy ceo that everyone knows and admires? yeah, that’s her. her name, jang wonyoung, would ring in your ears everytime you heard it. you’d grin just from spelling it out in your own head.

but that’s just because you admired her for other reasons.

the way you met her was truly unexpected but so very welcome though, you created an account on some local sugarmommy finding app that liz showed you a girlie’s gotta get her bag somehow. it was fairly average from the start, couple of matches here and there, but nothing really clicked.

that is, until you matched with her, of course.

you already knew who she was beforehand, which kinda made you wonder if this was the real deal? her texting habits made it clear to you, however, this was really her. she was just so eloquent with her words, so.. assertive? you felt hypnotized by simple pixels on your cellphone’s screen, your eyes slightly widening as she called you fancy nicknames like darling and sweetheart during casual conversation. she was so persuasive, you just wanted her to take complete control of your life from the get-go.

and to nobody’s surprise, that feeling just grew stronger each time you went out with her.

she’d always walk into the restaurants, expensive handbags and rings in hand, all because “coming empty-handed to a date would simply be ill-mannered of her”. hell, wonyoung even asked you which country you wanted to visit so she knew where to fly her private jet to next. she spoiled you rotten, really, and she didn’t even ask anything of you for the first few dates, and remained patient and attentive with you. she simply wanted to make you happy.

up until around 5 dates later.

she finally offered to bring you back to her mansion, after confessing that she secretly bought some lingerie she thought would suit you, and that she’d just love to see you try it on for her. yknow, a silly excuse to get you to see how big her house was.

you later figured out that her house wasn’t the only thing that was big!

this woman surprisingly had the most kinky objects in her possession, handcuffs, flogs, ropes, you name it. christian grey style, if you will. wonyoung, so composed and charming when it came to important meetings, yet so animalistic and rough when it came to sex. of course, she started slowly, asking you if you were ready for what was about happen, letting you know of a safe word, etc.

once that was done, she immediately got to work. planting rough kisses all over your body, muttering about how you were her pretty little thing and how nobody else could have you. you were hers, and she made sure to let you know of that.

i mean, you understood that pretty quickly when she roughly pounded your cunt with her probably-expensive-as-shit strap on. you didn’t even know rich people had those, and she didn’t even care if it hurt you. she wanted to fuck you good, and that’s what was bound to happen. her fingers rubbed on your throbbing clit insanely well, you could tell she had an insane amount of experience from the way she leaned into your ear and whispered praises into it. she’d treat you with unlimited amounts of respect anywhere else, but definitely not when she’s in her giant bedroom, stretching you out<33

oh and also, can we please talk about how stern this woman would be? you’d be begging, pleading her to go slower and she’d say something like “i don’t remember telling you that you could speak, love.” LIKE OU?? yes ma’am i am silent

or even in your day to day life?? bringing you to some expensive ass store that sells dresses with price tags that look like they could pass as math equations, you’d try and convince her that it’s too much and that she could you always buy you something cheaper elsewhere and her just shutting you down immediately going “nono, pick one, y/n, i absolutely insist.” like FUCKCK??

[annabelinlove]

I am yours

Pairing: Poly!marauders x reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: How your searching for love led you to the Marauders

Notes: English is not my first language, use of Y/n, James was dating Lily but then stared dating Wolfstar, just started writing so maybe shit lol

Dating wasn’t easy, not when you were a student at Hogwarts where everyone was in each other business and you couldn’t do anything without it being the hot topic all around the school the next day. Also, being a Slytherin was view as being a snobbish bitch, which didn’t really help your dating life. And still, you wanted to be loved and love with your whole heart.

“I know you’re not studying, darling.”

Your thinking was disturbed by a calm voice that belong to no other than Remus Lupin. You had no idea, how your friendship with the marauders began. Maybe it was when you were 11 and James Potter helped you find your class, when you were wandering lost around the Castle. Maybe it was when you were 13 in a potion class and your hair was falling into your face and Sirius Black gave you his scrunchie so you won’t fuck up the potion because you couldn’t see. Or was it when Remus Lupin gave you his chocolate when he found you frustrated in the library over a stupid homework when you were 12? You really didn’t know, but the golden boys of Gryffindor were your best friends and you wouldn’t change a thing, even if you were secretly hoping, that you could be more.

“I am studying.” You tried to defend yourself, even if you were lost in your thoughts for the last 10 minutes. Remus gave you un unimpressed look as if trying to tell you that he knew you were lying.

“You were just staring at the page for Merlin knows how long, you can’t fool me, darling.” You were sure that the pet names, that each of the marauders gave you would be the end of you yet you would probably really die if they stopped with them.

“Maybe I’m just really interested in this page,” you tried once again, but you knew you were doomed. “Pff, even Moony doesn’t stare that long at a page when it’s interesting. What’s on your mind, hm?” James joined the conversation, ditching his homework.

“This Slytherin boy I’ve been seeing wants to take things to the next level,” you admitted, thinking about the conversation you had this morning. Sirius raised his head, that was comfortably in Remus’ lap, suddenly intrigued in the conversation as well. All 3 pairs of eyes were on you, all of them having a different emotion in them. You squirmed in the silence, hoping one of them would break the silence. After a few seconds Sirius was the first to speak.

“Who was it again? So I can break his face the next time I see him.” You blinked at him, surprised by his violent tendencies. You didn’t know what kind of reaction you expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. Not knowing what to say you just stared at him, but thankfully Remus came to your aid.

“Come on, Pads. Maybe Y/n wants to take things to the next level and I’m pretty sure broken bones would kind of ruin that.” He scolded the raven haired boy, but gave you a curious glance, wondering what was your answer.

“I told him I’d think about it, but I don’t really know what I should tell him. He’s nice and everything, but I feel absolutely nothing when I’m with him,” you answered the unsaid question of all three boys. “Good.” was the immediate answer from Sirius, but James jumped in before he could say anything else. “Is that what’s bothering you, sweets? If you don’t want to be with him, just say it.” He took you hand, when he notices you picking on your nails, a nasty habit you did whenever you were nervous.

It took you a second before answering, looking at yours and James’ joined hands.

“I guess I just expected more, ya know? When he first asked me out, I think I said yes just because I was so surprised anyone would find me attractive or interesting enough to want to go out with, especially someone I just met on hallways and saw in the common room, someone who didn’t know me and I was so eager to go with him because I was hoping I’d finally find someone I could be really happy with. Feel the butterflies and the love and all that shit but that didn’t happen. I don’t feel anything when I’m with him and I don’t know what to do now that I know it’s not what I hoped for.” You were quiet for a second, the boys not interrupting you. They knew you and knew you had more to say.

“But maybe I should be his girlfriend, take things to the next level. So what if it’s not like what I dreamed of, we can’t always have what we want and it’d nice to be someone’s girlfriend. Be with someone who cares about you is always nice, am I right? It could also help me stop feeling like a fourth wheel whenever we hang out and you’re acting all coupley while I’m just kind of there.” You spilled how you felt without being able to stop yourself. Was it the best choice? Maybe not, but you really needed to talk to someone about your feelings and you trusted them and knew they would never judge you.

“Surprised anyone would find you attractive enough? When was the last time you looked into a mirror, pet? Your are by far the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts. But don’t be fooled, we don’t hang out with you for your looks, but because of how you make us feel. How you make us laugh when we’re sad, how you take care of us and do everything you think we might need, because of how amazing you and your personality is. Everybody would be proud to call you theirs. I’m actually surprised it took this long for someone to ask you out. I would have done it ages ago if I knew I’d stood a chance.” You lifted your head to look at Sirius, finding him looking at you in disbelief. You were definitely surprised by his words. You felt warmth spreading inside you body, thinking about his words. I would have done it ages ago if I knew I’d stood a chance, what did he mean by that? But before you could ask, Remus continued Sirius’ speech.

“Being with someone just to not be alone isn’t really a healthy thing, love. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be with this guy, do whatever you want, you are your own person and no one can tell you what do. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t waste your time dating someone you don’t feel any connection with. If you want butterflies, go find someone who makes you feel butterflies. You deserve so much more than to be with some bloke who doesn’t meet your expectations. Don’t lower your standards for anyone. And we never, ever wanted to make you feel like a fourth wheel, and we’re really sorry we did, love. If you’d feel more comfortable, we could stop acting all coupley, as you’ve put it, and be much less PDA with you. Whatever makes you happy and feeling the most comfortable with us.” Even tho he tried to mask it, you could see the hurt on his face and hear it in his voice. You didn’t think that your words would hurt them, that was the last thing you wanted.

“Listen to me and listen carefully, can you do that, sweetheart? I always thought that being with Lily would make me the happiest man in the world, that’s why I was trying so hard to get together with her. But when it finally happened I wasn’t happy. I tried so hard to love her, but I realized that I never did, I just loved the idea of her loving me. I wanted the same thing you want now. Everyday I saw how Pads and Moony are in love and I wanted that, just not with Lily, as I’ve come to realize. We were both unhappy so why should we stay together? Breaking up with her was the best thing ever, because it led her to be with Mary and I found my way to my boys. And let me tell you, being with them is the happiest I could ever be. And with you by our side. If you don’t feel happy, don’t waste your time with him. You may thing that it’s gonna be okay and you’ll find what you want, but it’s only gonna leave you miserable in the end,” James added.

You tried to wrap your head around everything what was said, but it left you confused. You knew you didn’t want to be with the Slytherin boy, you wanted to be part of the relationship these boys had, but you knew it wouldn’t be possible. But maybe they were right and being in a relationship just to be in one was stupid.

“I never want you to start acting differently or hide your relationship around me That’s the last thing I want and I’m sorry if it came out like I did. I love seeing you all in love, I really do. I feel the most comfortable when you are being yourselves, so please don’t ever change that,” you started to explain. You knew that if you didn’t say anything now, you never would. “I guess I’m just a little jealous that I could never be part of the love you share, you know? I think I want to be with someone so bad so I would stop feeling the need to be with you. Everyday I see how happy you are and I feel jealous because I know I’m not the reason you are happy. I stared something with this boy because I was hoping it would make these feeling stop, but if anything it has gotten worse. Every time he did something, the only thing I could think about was that you would do it differently,” you ended your speech, feeling nervous about what they would say. Would they reject you? Make fun of you? They would never do that told you the voice in you head and you knew it was right, you just didn’t know what to expect now.

“Then let us. Let us treat you like royalty, like you deserve. Let us love you like you deserve, let us be yours and let yourself be ours. Let us take you out and show you what love is supposed to feel like. Please, just let us, pet,” Sirius almost begged. You looked at him in surprise once again, and saw nothing but determination and love in his eyes. He really means it. You looked at the other two boys and found the exact same expression. You wanted to respond so bad but the only thing that you were able to say was just a soft what?

“We’ve talked about this quite a long time ago, we just didn’t know what to do,” James stared to explain. “We weren’t sure if you felt the same way and we didn’t want to ruin what we have now. But we’ve fallen, sweetheart. We fell so hard for you, you had us wrapped around your finger from the beginning and you didn’t even know it.” James gave you a small, almost shy smile.

“We knew that it could be weird, especially when we’re already in a relationship, but if you want us, love, we are yours and always have been. Be ours as well?” Remus finished for him. All of them waiting impatiently for your response. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You blinked a few times to wake up, but it wasn’t a dream. Actually, it was a dream comes true. You always wanted to hear them say they want you the same way you wanted them. A huge smile formed on your face

“I am yours, always will be.”

Your newfound relationship was the talk of the school for days to come, but the three Gryffindor golden boys didn’t seem to care. About the rumors, about you being a Slytherin, about anything really. If anything, they were proud that the whole school talked about them. Talked about you being with them. Everything was finally how it should be and none of you couldn’t be happier.

[itsonlydana]

Sailing Under the Sun | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

You're in the middle of the ocean when the wind dies down and leaves you stranded on Bard's sailboat. Thranduil's mood sinks but surely, though, there's a way to lift his spirits.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU], rich!Barduil, oral (m receiving), hand jobs, (guided) masturbation (f), dirty talk, i guess public-sex bc they're on the ocean? [reader is described with hair & wearing a bikini, no use of y/n]

word count: 4k

an: just a short little something, a treat for Thranduil as well as for you.. also.. Luke on that boat? Mhm-mhm yes yes. Best enjoyed listening to lana's 'born to die' because that's what i did xx // divider by @drinkthesky

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

“I’m just saying,” Thranduil slides his gigantic pair of dark Prada sunglasses up his nose after one annoyed look at Bard, “if we’d taken my boat, there wouldn’t be this issue.”

You can’t stop the snort you let out at Thranduil’s less passive, more aggressive jab and since your face is pressed into the curve of your elbow, the sound is much louder than anticipated. 

“Thranduil, that yacht of yours burns through hundreds of liters of fuel. You can’t expect me to drop this baby –” The sound of Bard’s hand patting the wooden rail of his boat underlines the defensive bite in his answer, “so that you can destroy the ocean some more!”

“Have you not literally bought a new car last month?”

“It’s electric!”

“You had it flown in!”

“Boys!” You lift your head to stare at the two men – children, by the sound of their argument over boats like it was a cock measuring tool – and purse your lips, “Can’t a woman just nap on a boat, no matter what boat, and enjoy the sun a bit?” 

Thranduil opens his mouth to answer but you see that twitch in his eyebrows, the tell-tale sign that nothing good will come out so you cut him off before by shaking your head. “No, Thran. I really don’t care what or whose boat. All I want is for some relaxation. Maybe a drink.” You think back to the bottles of red wine cooling down in the cabin and sigh, “Or two.”

“You could’ve had one now,” Thranduil says and adds in a faux-whisper directed at none but heard by all: “Could’ve had a whole bar of drinks if we’d taken the Ferretti.”

Immediately, the groans of Bard and your inhale shut him up and Thranduil flips his hair back. “What? What?” his eyes fix you over the sunglasses and there’s a sharp edge to his low voice, a threatening edge of true annoyance. “Darling, you can’t tell me you’re happy that we’re stranded here.”

Stranded, because Bard’s prediction of a smooth sail went overboard as soon as the wind died down and he realized you’re mostly out of fuel.

Here, as in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by endless hues of blue. The glittering pacific blue ocean goes over into a cloudless light sky. No other boats, except yours, a peaceful human-less quiet that’s only interrupted by the gentle lapping of white foam-topped waves breaking against Bard’s sailboat and the breeze that makes the hot rays of the sun bearable if not enjoyable. 

And Bard’s been working on the sails wearing nothing but his swimming shorts so whenever you decide to look up from the towel you spread on the deck to sunbathe, you see his tanned muscles flexing in his back or his broad shoulders, and more than often he pulls on something or squats down which gives you a view even better than the ocean. The playful wind ruffles his hair now and then, dishevelling the locks of dark brown, salt and pepper and he looks – just right; balancing on the railing, his cinnamon-tanned chest splattered with freckles all up to his cheeks and a carefree easiness on his face. That’s the appearance of someone glad to be out on the water.

“Thranduil,” you pronounce the name like he’s a six-year-old who refuses to wear sunscreen, “I had the time of my life until you two whipped out your dicks.” 

And that’s the complete and honest truth. You have no need to suck up to Bard because Thranduil’s spoiled and rather spends the time on water acting like he’s not actually on water and sitting in the pool on his yacht, and you really like Bard’s sailboat. There’s a small bar downstairs, a hammock strung between the two masts, and plenty of room to lie down and do nothing. That’s all you need; he provides that and adds the naked-chest-view.

What are you going to do? Complain?!

“Yes, but imagine –” Thranduil stands up from his towel and saunters to you like a cat on a mission. The baby-blue linen shirt blows open in the sea breeze and shows the blush of pink that the sun has kissed onto his chest and the soft, slightly curled platinum strands of long hair brush your naked arms as he sits back down on the edge of your towel to lean down, his lips passing your temple to mumble hid deep vibrating voice into your ear, “The things we could do, the places we could play. The pool, the beds, the jacuzzi. I could tell the staff to leave the bar so I could taste my favorite drink –” his hands slide up your sunscreen sticky legs, rubbing the flesh of your thighs and part them slightly to play with the string of your bikini bottoms, “and that isolation means you, Darling, honey, can decide however – I – should – fuck – you.” 

A word, a kiss, a finger darting over the black bikini but never dipping in.

“Mhm,” your throaty hum is partly faulted to his hands caressing the warm skin of your inner thighs though his voice does a fantastic job of planting the seeds of imagination into your mind.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Bard calls and points his finger at Thranduil, “You’re playing unfair! Our girl has a right to her own opinion and doesn’t need your devilish tongue.”

The smirk is on Thranduil’s face before Bard realizes the double meaning of what he said and while he groans, Thranduil licks over his lips. “She could have it, though.” 

Bard jumps down from the railing, throwing a rope to the wooden floor. “You need a spanking,” he says, which not only leads to another smirk but to a low: “Yes, please, Sir.” 

Your bikini straps dig into your shoulders as you support yourself on your elbows, giving both men a view of your breasts pushed together in that black top they bought last month on the Monacco Trip. You catch Bard’s eyes, exchanging a shrug and tilt of the head, an unspoken discussion on how to deal with Thranduil’s behavior which, if unhandled, will only get worse the longer you sit around and try to ignore the crease between his eyebrows. 

The last time Thranduil had been forced to a dinner he had zero interest in being at, he made off-handed comments about everyone like he was absolutely counting on getting thrown out and when that didn’t happen he faked multiple phone calls (Bard and you ignored him the entire time, chatting to investors and walking arm in arm through the private gallery) before he stood up and left. Right before dessert was served. Like a cunt – There had been strawberry shortcakes and layered tiramisu, the perfect cream-to-berry ratio on the afternoon sweet clock. Bard had his chocolate eyes on the tiny glasses the entire time you were circling the room but none of them made it into your hands there.

You stole two in your tiny handbag, had sacrificed a lip balm and condoms to make room for the glasses to sneak them back to your hotel where you and Bard had watched a movie and pretended Thranduil didn’t sit next to you looking thoroughly pleased that he was finally back in his silk pajamas and freshly pampered.

“Soo,” Bard starts slowly, dragging out the ‘o’ that sounds more like a low throaty hum in the end. His hands wander up Thranduil’s shoulders to massage the twirly thin hair on his nape, “how can we make this day more enjoyable to you, Your Majesty?” 

“I could blow some winds into the sail to bring you back into port,” you suggest light-heartedly. 

Thranduil lifts one hand and nudges the glasses up into his hair. A few strands escape, falling down the side of his temples and fluttering in the breeze. While Bard has this look that places him on a sailboat, hands dirty and tanned like he spends his life up in the masts and ropes, Thranduil belongs on the yacht. Dirty-Shirleys, loosely buttoned shirts in white and blue, discussing galleys and standing on a glass floor to safely look down on the cerulean water underneath without ever getting even a bit of wave spraying up to the expensive clothes. 

You dabble in both these lifestyles. There are days when you love to sit around in tight dresses and hang around Thranduil’s arm, watching him gamble or play pool, whispering dirty thoughts like secret tactics into his ear but you would never say no to a day like this one. Lounging in your bikini, listening to the waves, and flying whenever the winds bless you. 

 “Or you could blow me.”

Thranduil doesn’t blink or twitch a muscle while you cough the devil out of you. Unfortunately, his proposition came when you reached for your bottle of water for a refreshment. The cooling drops roll down the curve of your breast and sink into the bikini and towel, leaving behind nothing but a darkened spot instead of the reanimating of your dried-out mouth and you’re spraying the water in more directions than Thranduil's yacht, barreling through the ocean at 40 knots.

At your sputtering, Bard pats your back compassionately. “There, there,” he chuckles and reaches down to wipe some of the water away, his fingers innocently brushing past the seamline at your breasts. The skin is warm, calloused, rough, and yet lovingly; he’s the summer cocktail that leaves you wanting more after one sip.  “He got you this wet already?”

“Bet that little number is drenched as well,” Thranduil adds mockingly and to prove him wrong, you raise your ass up.

“Check your facts,” you grin and slightly wiggle your butt, knowing full well that one more comment from either of them or one more touch would disintegrate the composure brought on by the sun and relaxation to leave another sea in the black bottoms. That thought brings more laughter, one that dusts your cheeks pinker than Thranduil’s chest. “Sea for yourself, huh?” 

Even Thranduil laughs at that, the first real smile that isn’t conceited or shameless flirting like the one he gave you as you showed off your bikini; this one’s deep from his soul and you’re proud that it’s one thoroughly bad dad-pun that cracks the shell of his mood.

“Well, Captain,” you blink up to Bard, “does the boat need you or can your loyal crew borrow some of that time?”

Sitting on one knee, Bard scratches the scruff of his beard, drawing his chin between two fingers. “No,” he says after a moment of thought and turns to Thranduil, “I’ve got time to help our Majesty out. One might say I’m quite handy at raising the mast. What? Oh, don’t look at me like that,” – that, being an eye roll and a huff – “so when she–” he nods his chin at you, “says it it’s fine but me? I’m getting castrated by the looks of ya!” 

“Tze, I don’t need your help masting me up. I’ve been lounging around blue-balling ever since our Darling girl showed that ass of her in that skimpy string bikini.” Thranduil makes himself more comfortable, sitting back on the small bench and leaning against one of the cabin windows so that you’re directly situated in front of him. As soon as you scoot closer on your knees, he opens his thighs and pets them. “C’mon, honey. Show me what that mouth of you can do.”

Bard, following his own, mischievous agenda, moves as well to sit next to Thranduil on the bench, one foot stemming up behind Thranduil to pull him into his opened legs. Their mouths crash together in a kiss that starts up fast, a colliding of teeth like a continuation of their earlier discussion that neither one is willing to lose. One of Bard’s hands finds its way into Thranduil’s neck, the other one moves to one of his perked-up nipples and playfully flicks it. 

You shuffle closer and undo the string that holds up Thranduil’s cream linen pants with fast nimble fingers – pulling on one end and watching, your cheek resting against one thigh, as the bow falls apart just like you plan on unraveling Thranduil. 

Without breaking away from Bard’s opened and moaning lips, Thranduil lifts his hips, aiding you as you pull the fabric over his legs to find a wonderful surprise waiting for you. 

“Seems like you weren’t lying,” you hum. There’s certainly one part of Thranduil that enjoys the view; ocean be dammed if you can have a good pair of tits in front of you, right? Thranduil’s cock stands proudly against his stomach, the tip red and weeping. You kitten-lick up the side, alternating to a soft kiss when you reach the head. “How did I not notice this?” you ask and lick up a bit of precum. 

The taste spreads salty on your tongue yet sweeter than seawater. 

That does bring Thranduil to break away from Bard and his gray eyes find yours, his pupils dilated by the lust taking over. “I guess it's because you didn't spare a glance at me during the whole journey. You were too busy drooling over Bard's a – ahh– ss.” 

“Is that so?” Bard asks cheekily, pausing his administration of marking up the junction Thranduil’s neck with his teeth, bruises that’ll remind Thranduil for a long time how, in the end, he enjoyed himself on Bard’s boat.

“No?” you lie. You did, but who wouldn’t stare if presented with such a good arse and muscles? Anyway, he’s your boyfriend and spent the morning between your legs so that must cancel each other out, right?

“Mhm, she did.” Thranduil grabs for Bard and pulls him into another kiss.

You spit in your hand, knowing full well by now a dip into your bottoms would be enough but the flutter of Thranduil’s lashes at the sound and what comes next is a high reward, and give his cock one testing stroke. 

“I don’t think you’re in the place to tease,” You use your thumb to smear his precome that dribbles out of his slit over the head and down, mixing it with your spit to wetten his cock further. A helping hand comes from Bard and he gatherers your hair. With nothing in your way, you lean forward and swallow Thranduil’s cock right to the base, licking up the veins.

Thranduil groans and his head slumps into the crook of Bard’s neck. He’s already too gone to answer in typical Thranduil-fashion – which is a snarky comeback –, a few licks and the slight pressure from your tongue against his balls is all it takes.

Swirling your tongue around the base, you sigh heavily, breathing in and taking him a bit deeper into your throat in the delight of finally having his weight in your mouth again. Thranduil’s hand flies to your head when you start bobbing, going down further and further every time, and his fingers wrap themselves around some strands, nails digging into your skin. 

“Fuck, that’s right,” Bard groans. You look up and see that Thranduil has his other hand around his cock, though he went right into a steady pace. Through lowered lashes, Bard nods at you. “C’mon baby, I know you’re drenched as well,” his hips lift, following Thranduil’s tug on his cock, “Just – fuck, just listen to me and I can take care of you, alrigh’?”

You nod around Thranduil’s cock, the tip now bullying the end of your throat in a way that nearly constricts your breathing but pleasurably lets just the tiniest bit of air through so you’re not yet lightheaded. Unconsciously you rub your thighs together, searching for some friction with one of your heels digging into your cunt. 

“That’s good, baby, but y’know what’s going to feel real good? Give Thranduil those fingers.”

While you continue to hold Thranduil’s cock down, nose pushed against the waxed skin, you let the blonde swirl his tongue around two of your fingers and watch as he coats your middle and pointer in enough spit that it drips when you pull them back with a ‘pop’.

Bard groans in approval. “That’s right, good job. Now go ‘head and slide them into your bikini. Leave it on, ‘s not like there’s much to pull off anyway.”

Thranduil laughs and moans at the same time, nearly choking you on his cock at the sudden movement and you quickly lift your head. A mix of your spit and his precum drip down your throat and onto your breasts. 

“Can you fuck my throat?” Your question sounds sweet but it’s Thranduil’s turn to choke on his laughter. The hand in your hair tightens.

“Fuck, of course, Darling,” Thranduil wastes no second and pushes you back on his cock immediately, giving you barely any time to inhale enough air before he’s lodged in your throat again. Without further ado, he starts thrusting up, first slow as he’s figuring out how he would like it today, then faster.

Gagging and shifting for a better stance, knees spread apart, your wet fingers slide past the tight stretch of your bikini, finding it practically glued to your cunt. There’s not one single cell in your body that isn’t strung to vibrate in lust and desire, all that goes through your flesh and mind is the siren song of pleasure, luring you closer into her trap but is it truly a trap when you surrender all you are willingly? You don’t think so and sink your middle finger into yourself, finding that there’s little resistance yet plenty of slickness that makes it easy for you to rub the pads of your fingers over your throbbing clit.

The squelch is loud and evokes groans from all three of you, only yours is stifled by Thranduil’s cock spearing through your mouth. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” Bard smirks down at you, taking in the tears that gather in your eyes and the spit drooling out of your mouth, dripping uncontrollably and smearing over the hand you’ve been using to fondle Thranduil’s balls. “What a sight, you messy messy girl. Look how you’re pleasing Thran – shit,” he breaks into a moan as Thranduil twists his hand.

Blinking away some of the tears and rubbing your clit harder, it’s an effort to focus your twisted view to look up at Thranduil but when your eyes focus, he’s glorious. Both hands occupied, one holding you down and the other fucking Bard’s leaking cock, knuckles glistening with precome. He’s leaning to the side, moaning open-mouthed against Bard’s throat that bobs at each sound, the blush on his cheeks dark and a beautiful contrast to his light yet disheveled hair. No painter could capture that wanton pull of his face, the color of his lips, and the fan of his lashes.

“I – Love, Bard, I don’t think – ah fuck yesyesyessogood – I’m not gonna last long,” Thranduil manages to say, his hips speeding up in that blind chase after pleasure, grinding his cock into the back of your throat.

The lightheadedness kicks in with the rush of adrenalin and you hum, sending the vibrations along Thranduil’s cock. He can’t hold himself back longer, there’s no reason or thought behind his actions as he hammers his cock into you, using your mouth as a wet sleeve just like you had wanted him to and his size and width will probably bruise you enough that speaking will be something to avoid but there’s no reason for your voice if your body sings that beautifully like it does now.

Your hips move against your own hand, rutting into the fingers rubbing your clit furiously, the heat in your stomach tight.

“Fuck if you could only see yourselves,” Bard grunts, twitching in Thranduil’s firm grip one last time before he shoots his load all over his heaving chest. Breathlessly, he sinks down, falling to his knees and you don’t even notice how close he is until rough fingers shove yours aside. 

For a second you whine, a useless sound blocked by Thranduil’s heavy cock, but Bard shushes you. His frame blocks the sun that beats down on your back and he curls around you. “Let me, love,” he murmurs. There’s another burning light, stronger and hotter than the sun. His fingers find your clit with a knowing ease and you go tense up completely, thighs shaking to hold yourself up somehow. 

The gentle bob of the boat does nothing but heighten the sensations, the exposure to everyone who might pass or get close a knowledge that sits in the back of your neck and rolls down your spine hot like molten silver.

A narrow breath trips out of Thranduil’s lips, a pretty little sound that leaves you dripping all over Bard, who shoves two fingers of one hand inside you and rubs your clit with two of the other. A string of moans follow and then, shooting directly down your throat, Thranduil comes with one last raise of his hips, his hand stilling in your hair and his cum bittersweet. 

“Good fucking girl,” Bard praises, his fingers sending you into oblivion straight after you finish swallowing and choking on Thranduil, one ‘come-hither’ motion that lights up your body like fireworks on the fourth of July though instead of rocketing up into the sky, you clam down on Bard’s fingers and let the flaming orgasm whip you into another sphere. 

Your sight clears and both men are there, rubbing your back and gently rolling you through the shaking aftershocks that leave you to fall trembling into Bard. He catches you, hands sticky with your combined arousal holding you up. Thranduil reaches for your forgotten water bottle, tipping it to your mouth and you greedily flush down the remaining taste of his cum.

An orgasmic bliss clings to the edge of your being and you’re more than satisfied. 

Since you don’t seem like taking control over your body, Bard man-handles you to lay down on another towel, one that’s free from cum. Thranduil stands, if not sways, and pulls on the open sail to bathe you in a cooling shadow.

“There,” Thranduil pulls off his shirt, the baby-blue darkened by his sweat and carelessly throws it into the cabin, “I could go for a swim now. All that blowing and there’s still no wind.”

And with that he swings himself over the metal railing, hair flying through the air and the water spraying up as he dives down.

You mumble a question and – yes, speaking will definitely be limited to the bare minimum and only if truly necessary.

Bard understands you nevertheless and slips behind you again, pulling your tired body against his – cleaned – chest. “Let’s join him in a bit,” he mumbles between the rain of soft kisses into your neck, his nose nudging your skin gently, “and then I’ll them him I’ve got a full enough tank to sail us to every port he wants to.”

You snort, rolling your head back to give his wandering lips more access to your sun-kissed warm skin. Spots dance in front of your closed eyes and seagulls screech in the distance. The water sounds inviting and you can’t wait to dive into the cooling wet, joining Thranduil. You’ll climb on his back, letting him drift around with your arms around his neck holding on, the water lapping over you and Bard tugging on your feet, tickling you until you swallow water from laughing so much.

But now, his breathing is as constant as Thranduil’s low hum next to the boat, and his arm’s heavy around your stomach and you promise yourself you’ll just close your eyes for a little bit.

taglist: @crouchingapple (if you want to be added: just inform me via the inbox or under my posts)

[shadesoflsk]

Number 71 with re2r Leon could be so silly *twirls hair and blushes*

hiiiii anon😼 That idea is so cute please I'm melting. For this one, I immediately thought about an amusement park date (is that the correct name ? lol), and that led to a photo booth kiss! And you're sooo right this idea with re2r Leon is so silly he's just ike that! I hope you like it, take care. !!

71. “Kiss me, quick!” summary: re2r leon kennedy x gn reader, just straight up tooth rotting fluff wc: 1.0k

After accepting a job as a cop in Raccoon City, he knew that time wouldn’t be enough to be with you. That’s why, every time he has days off, he does his best to make it up for you.

Leon had decided to surprise you this time. The only clue he gave you was “wear something comfortable” and while it was an ambiguous sentence, you obliged. You took one last glance at the mirror, making sure you looked the part when Leon whistled.

“Ready to go?”

It hadn’t been a long drive, at least you thought so until Leon stopped the car in the middle of the road. Confused, you turned your head as you observed Leon rummaging through his pockets. Eventually, he found what he was searching for.

“A blindfold?” Your voice carried a sense of curiosity in it.

“Do you trust me?”

“Hell no.”

“Darling…please.” He whined, his lips forming a pout as exasperation filled his speech. It was funny to tease your boyfriend every chance you get, but now you spare him the embarrassment. 

“Ok, no need to cry.” You took the blindfold and Leon made sure to check that you couldn’t see anything.

“How many fingers do I have?” He said as he lifted his hand, forming a three.

“Four. Now drive.” You couldn’t hide the silly smile that was forming on your face.

And with that, Leon’s hand gripped the steering wheel again.

When you finally arrive, Leon helps you get out of the car and the first thing you notice —besides the chill air— is kids screaming and giggles filling the atmosphere. At first, you thought Leon had brought you to a concert. But then again, kids wouldn’t be at a concert at this time of the night even if it is still early.

“Can I take it off?”

“Yes, let me help you.”

Leon gets in front of you and takes off the blindfold that prevented you from seeing anything. The previous darkness that blurred your vision is now disappearing as your eyes adjust to the neon lights that the scenario before you offers.

“Ta-da!” Leon’s lips curve into a cheerful smile as he extends his arms, showing you his greatest idea. He has been planning this date for days. Ever since he read this new fair was coming to town, he just knew he had to take you there.

He is the epitome of a good boyfriend, dates are always a must when he has free time. And even when he couldn’t be with you, he would leave surprises. A sticky note telling you how much he loves you? Done. Having flowers delivered to your front door? Of course.

“Leon I...” You let out a breathy laugh. Your eyes dart back from the scenario of countless games and rides lying in front of you, to Leon's eyes which look at you with a devotion and love that just makes your heart weak. “Thank you…”

And, as a way to show your gratitude, you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him, letting the warmth of your bodies embrace both of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and motions you to follow him.

You don’t know who was more excited, you or Leon. But with the way he kept tugging your hand each time he saw a ride he wanted to try, you may as well say him. He kept his vice grip on you all the way from the roller coaster, to the ferris wheel and to finally the haunted house.

After scaring the shit out of both of you, you decide to sit down for a while, catching your breaths as adrenaline still pumps through your veins. Your eyes, eventually, fall on a photo booth a few meters away from where you’re sitting.

Now it was Leon’s turn to be dragged around.

You both laugh in unison as you waste no time in getting into the booth, almost forgetting to insert the five dollar bill that the machine needed to work. Leon closes the red curtain and instantly pulls you closer.

You sit down, struggling to fit into the narrow and tight space the photo booth provided. Leon and you try fixing each other’s hair amidst the giggling fit you were in. The countdown for the photos starts.

“Leon! Stop laughing.” You mutter as you try to maintain a sweet smile for the picture. Leon, on the other hand, moved at the very exact moment when the machine snapped a photo. “For God’s sake Leon…” And as much as you feign annoyance, you are grateful for this little memory you are creating with him.

For the second picture, you both show a beaming and pearly white smile to the camera, pressing your cheeks to one another. However, as the first photo is probably blurry due to Leon’s inability to stay still, you decide to have the perfect picture just for yourself.

“Kiss me, quick!”

He almost didn’t hear you when your words left your lips. However, your instructions are followed to the letter, and Leon in a swift motion grabs your face. You smile between the kiss as you hear the camera making a click sound. 

You don’t pull away right away, letting the romantic display of affection linger for a few seconds before the machine decides to break the sweet and tender moment.

“Thank you. You can now leave the photo booth. Please don’t forget to collect your pictures.”

“Don’t pay attention—”

“Thank you. You can now leave the photo booth. Please don’t forget to collect your pictures.”

“Jesus… I get it” Leon mutters as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss. A dumb smile is plastered on his face as you admire his expression. You both walk out of the photo booth with your fingers interlaced, ready to see the results.

Needlessly to say, Leon stole that picture from you just to brag about what a pretty partner he has whenever he gets asked if he has a special one or not.

[blood-red-ocean]

can I request Mother Miranda next? i have this silly idea where MM's crow(s) has a habit of stashing all kind of shiny things near reader's house. Maybe she has a small porch that's not been used cause reader doesn't have time lounging around, and the sneaky crow is, like, yeah, this is perfect, and so reader goes about her life non the wiser to crow's shenanigans behind her back until one day she hears some sound outside and goes to investigate which ends with her stumbling upon MM rummaging through pile of... something. Awkward silence.

I don't know why I saw reader's house and immediately went 'ah yes, they live with Miranda' but ANYWAY enjoy <3

Small Thief (RL!Miranda x Reader)

Word count: 1.9k Warnings: None Summary: Cornelius is a sneaky lil gremlin.

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

“Babe? Have you seen my keys?”

Overturned couch cushions and the contents of upturned cabinet drawers laid in the wake of your frantic rummaging. The very thought of having lost a set of keys to the headmistress’s house scared you enough, but it would be even worse if you had not simply misplaced them and had dropped them somewhere on the Campus. Especially with Mia’s habit of being an absolute gremlin and showing up unexpectedly in places she wasn’t supposed to be.

“Hmm?” Miranda strode into the room, hand fiddling with the button on the other wrist of her shirt.

“My keys, babe, my keys. I need them.”

You knew what was coming immediately. You knew it so well that you could almost quote her word for word. “Now, what did I tell you about carelessly tossing your keys down, little crow?” She and you both knew that if she had spoken those words to anybody else, it would have seen as harsh chastising. But you knew her better than that, and you could easily pick up on the way her mouth quirked up at the corners. The Miranda version of a playful grin.

“Forget about your keys, darling mine,” She said, striding over to you to kiss your cheek. “I will be awake when you return, I’ll let you in.”

“Andy, you know I’ve got class till late tonight.” Miranda smiled a little more visibly at the nickname you had picked for her – Devil Wears Prada had quickly become her favourite movie to watch with you, and she didn’t hide her blush fast enough when you called her it playfully for the first time while playfully testing out different variations of her name. Mir, Mira, Andy… “Professor Dimitrescu is making us recreate a classical piece in our own style.”

“That’s… Out of character.” Miranda frowned a little. “Very well then. I’ll still let you in.”

“But—”

“I’ll be awake.” Miranda gave you a pointed look, and it hit you then. Of course she would be awake – without you around to help with the growing pile of student council paperwork, full of requests and grievances that were above even Bela’s station, she would no doubt spend considerable time poring over them, with Cornelius on her shoulder. She often turned to work when you weren’t around.

“Okay, fine,” You said. You reached up and caressed her cheek, a playful smirk growing on your face. “Just don’t drool on the papers when you fall asleep this time, okay?” This earned you a tut from Miranda.

Hours later, and back aching from spending hours at an easel, you trudged into Miranda’s – you and Miranda’s – house, dropping your bag at your feet. You leaned back against the door and groaned, rolling your shoulders slowly to relieve some of the tension. The smell of pizza wafted down the hallway and into your nostrils, stomach growling angrily. “Oh, fuck yes,” you breathed, following the scent like a cartoon character. There, on the kitchen counter, laid an open box of your favourite pizza, and a note beside it which stated, in Miranda’s elegant cursive, “I am in my office. Come find me when you have eaten, little crow.”

Pizza slice in hand, you navigated the house, making your way to her study. The door was propped slightly open, and a gentle push on it made it swing forward, revealing Miranda bent over her home desk as she pored over some paperwork.

“Pizza?” You asked, holding a piece out.

Miranda crinkled her nose a little and shook her head. “Not tonight, Feather. I don’t think I have the stomach for it right now.” She tapped her fingers on the top of the desk as she sat back, peering at you with concern. “Are you alright? You seem exhausted.”

“Because I am,” You mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, sauce and dough. “Dimitrescu made me restart my piece three times. Three times! All because I mixed the pigment slightly wrong.” Miranda kept tapping her fingers one by one, the familiar sound almost mesmerizing you – almost.

Click, click, thud, click. Click, click, thud, click.

One of her golden finger guards was missing, the soft thud of her bare finger hitting the wooden surface jarring against the clicking you were used to. “Hey,” You spoke up, frowning. “Where’s your guard?”

Miranda shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. “I have no idea,” She eventually admitted. “I removed all of them earlier to take a bath, and when I turned back, one was missing.”

“Ah, so the great Miranda doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head after all.” Miranda shot you a playful glare, affection vaguely hidden beneath. “I’m sure it’ll show up somewhere.”

“It is rather… Concerning, that things keep going missing around here. I’m not usually this… Disorganized.”

“You aren’t disorganized at all,” You reassured her, licking the grease from your fingers. “Maybe we have a ghost.”

Miranda rolled her eyes lightheartedly at that, returning to her work. You grabbed your books and papers, settling in on the couch opposite her desk to study. Yeah, you were exhausted, but you still had other classes to study for, and not even being romantically bound to the headmistress would give you endless exceptions when it came to your studies.

***

Weeks passed, hours and hours of late classes beginning to make you feel burned out. You spent the days counting down to when it was finally done and you could spend your time with Miranda again – and quicker than you thought, it was over. You left Professor Dimitrescu’s class with a heavy wooden frame in hand, a begrudging A+ grade, and a sense of smug accomplishment. You couldn’t wait to get home and tell Miranda all about how Alcina had squirmed, heaving sighs and muttering as she scribbled an A+ onto the piece of paper before her.

Upon arriving at home, however, Miranda was nowhere to be found. Propping the frame up against the wall, you dug your phone from your pocket and checked it – no texts, no missed calls. Venturing deeper into the house, you peered into Miranda’s study to see it empty and dark. Brow furrowed, you ventured even further into the house. It was unlike Miranda to not tell you where she was – or rather, command that you go and be at her side.

“Andy?” You called out. You peered into darkened rooms, intrigue growing as you saw parts of the house you hadn’t seen before. Between the rush of moving you in with her, and exam season, and Alcina’s late classes, you had barely had time to spend sitting quietly with your avian goddess, let alone explore the depths of the house.

Just as you were about to give up and try and call Miranda, a crashing sound came from the very back of the house. Pulse rushing in your ears, you immediately jumped to alertness, searching for something to wield as a makeshift weapon. Eventually settling on a discarded iron poker, you held it aloft as you took slow steps towards the crashing sounds. You eventually came upon a glass door, a faint glow emanating from behind it. With one hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath and threw the door open, roaring.

“RAAAAAAARGH—Andy??”

Once the frantic flurrying of wings and dark feathers and Miranda’s cursing had died down, you could get a proper look at the small room you had entered. It was covered in screens rather than windows, and it took you a moment to realise it was a porch.

A porch filled with heaping miles of miscellanea, remarkably less organized than the rest of the house. Miranda stood in the midst of it all, her face flushed and scowling… At Cornelius. Eyebrows raised, you glanced between the two of them, taking a step back. Cornelius let out a rather loud, indignant caw, wings lifted at Miranda.

“You! She hissed, pointing her finger accusingly. “I knew it!”

A glint in the corner of your vision caught your eye, and at a single glance you heaved with relief.

“My keys,” You breathed. “Thank the gods—” You reached out to pick them up, and the fluttering of wings signaled Cornelius’s arrival. He stood with one foot on them, staring up at you with one burning yellow eye. It hit you then that this wasn’t some secret that Miranda kept, some uncharacteristic habit – no, Cornelius had been periodically stealing more and more items over the weeks, stashing him where he thought nobody would find them. You reached out again to try and take the keys, but he just cawed softly at you, clicking his beak.

“Hey, what—”

“You have to give him something else,” Miranda grumbled, sifting through the heaps of shiny objects. “I learned that the hard way.” She tapped her earlobe, and you noticed that one of her dangly gold earrings was missing, no doubt wherever Cornelius had stashed it again. On her finger was the golden finger guard, back where it belonged.

“Well, I don’t have anything shiny,” You spoke to the small thief. “But… You want my A+?” You held out the piece of paper with the grade and Alcina’s comments on it, and Cornelius studied it for a moment. With a quick chirp, he grabbed it from your hand and flew off to the back corner of the porch, no doubt to stash it somewhere safe. Miranda watched him with her mouth agape and threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, “Seriously? I feed you! I raised you from a baby! And they can give you paper?” Miranda took a breath as if to continue, then stopped, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Did you say A+?”

Grinning, you nodded quickly. “Yep! Can we get pizza to celebrate?”

“Again, Feather? Aren’t you tired of it yet? I could order you something much nicer—”

“Nope, pizza,” You called out, moving back into the hallway of the house. Miranda followed you, pride in her eyes.

“Very well, then,” She sighed in mock exasperation. “But first, show me your work.”

There was a skip in your step as you led Miranda by the hand back to the entryway, where you had placed the painting. You held it up to her and watched as her eyes conveyed her emotions – surprise, awe, pride and then, as she gazed back up at you, love. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured. “We must display it at once.”

You followed her as she went to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small golden hook, and a nail. She hummed as she roamed the house, trying to figure out where the hang your artwork, and you blushed about it. Eventually, she settled for hanging it above her desk in her study, this simple gesture making your heart skip a beat, reminding you again her how she loved and prioritized you. She reached up, preparing to nail the hook into the wall, when a dark blur rushed by and left her hands empty. She growled a little under her breath and chased after it, leaving you in fits of giggling as she went.

“Cornelius! Get back here with that!”

To nobody’s surprise (but to Miranda’s chagrin), it only took the promise of some head scratches from you to get the hook back from the small thief. You could’ve sworn he gave an approving caw at the sight of your painting, as well.

[q1ngqve]

ᝰ LEAVE !

✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ 𓂅 cockwarming william j. moriarty!

CW; fem! reader, cockwarming, penetration, praise kink, slight edging, ‘good girl’, ‘pretty girl’, ‘darling’, slight angst at the end

soft whimpers fill william’s office as you sit on his lap, his cock buried deep inside of your cunt. he’s told you to keep it down at least three times, telling you that the others would hear if you kept whimpering his name like that.

that comment shut you up immediately, you haven’t told anyone but you’ve been sleeping with almost all of them since you arrived and joined their little group. you just couldn’t help it, how could you when all of them gives you their undivided attention and respect? and it’s pretty damn hard to say no when they’re all so convincing in their own way.

you bite back another moan when william shifts his hip beneath you, trying to get into a more comfortable position while he focuses on grading the maths assignments before him.

you know he’s doing it on purpose, he’d shift his position slightly every once in a while just to rile you up. it isn’t the first time you’re cockwarming him, but it sure is the first time you’re lasting this long trying not to fuck yourself on his cock. and he can feel it, the way you’re clenching around him unconsciously and the way you’re already dripping down his pants is a clear indication that you’re this close to begging him to fuck you.

your legs tremble as you struggle to stop your body from reacting. the pleasure was just too much to handle, especially when the tip of his dick kisses your spot so sweetly. and he presses a soft kiss to the crevice of your neck, “I’m almost done, just a little longer, okay? you’re doing so well for me.” and all you can muster without making too much noise is a soft hum that you’re not even sure if he heard.

william knows. of course he does. he knows you’ve been sleeping with the rest of the group, and he knows he should be doing something about it, but he’s not going to deny the fact that you’ve raised their morales tenfold since you joined. and he knows he shouldn’t be fraternizing with a fellow team member, but it’s so hard when you’re so fucking obedient to everything he says. he loves that about you, always so pliant and obedient for him.

you are so close to fucking yourself on his dick, and he knows that as well. which is why he shifts his legs, the soft motion pushes his dick right up against your g-spot. the moan you’ve been holding flies out in an instant, and you let go. the pleasure was just too much to not move, how could you not when he’s so deep inside, stretching and filling you up so good?

your hips grind down onto his and you let your whimpes escape, fully focused on chasing your high and throwing away the fact that you might get punished later into the back of your head.

but obviously, doing it by yourself isn’t enough. william smiles when he hears your pleas tumble out in incoherent words, barely catching on to what you’re trying to say. but he’s fucked you enough times to know that you’re begging. begging him to thrust up into your warm, wet cunt, giving you the release you want so badly.

“please, please, please— I’ve been so good!”

william hums, the sound reverberating deep from his throat. “you have, haven’t you?” he thinks he’s getting soft hearted, especially when it comes to you. “been a good girl and cockwarmed me for so long, didn’t even move a muscle and make a sound. isn’t that right?”

a few strands of hair falls to the front of your face when you nod in reply, trying so hard not to scream his name you finally feel him thrusting up into you.

“pretty girl deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

“yes please…”

you hear him chuckle before his leather-gloved hands grabs your hip and shoves you onto his desk. he swears he’s losing it. completely and absolutely losing it when it comes to you. one look at you lying on his desk beneath him with your face contorted in pleasure is enough to make him cum on the spot.

but he promised he’d give you your reward, and he always delivers.

your back arches off the wooden desk when you feel his hands drawing circles on your clit. the sensitive muscle reacting to his touch instantly, sending heat up your core.

william twitches inside you, feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your whimpers increase in pitch. “c’mon darling, you’ve got this. come for me.” you blacked out for a second, your climax hitting you like a truck under his soft coaching.

“that’s it, good girl.”

soft moans leaves his own lips as he cums inside you, unable to hold it back any longer.

you steady your breathing, eyes still closed as you await the harsh change in his tone. “now, leave.” your eyes open, adjusting to the lights above, heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

william’s already shoved himself back into his pants and looking down at you like you’re filth, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. you scramble to stand and smooth your dress, eyes hardening at this repeated scene ever since the two of you began this whole ‘thing’.

the sound of your heels walking away in the corridor has his own heart aching. deep down, he is sure that he’s falling in love, and he can not allow himself that luxury, not when so much is at stake.

⭒ A/N — this was supposed to be a drabble so idk how it turned into a full blown fic with some plot behind it…

[partmathpartmagic]

"Give me six months"

This is a chapter from a longer fic that you can find here. It's a letter from Astarion, written over the course of six months immediately following the defeat of the Absolute. The premise is that you two are taking some time apart after the main events of the game so he can figure his shit out a bit. I love his friendship ending because he's so happy and proud of himself, but I wish it were possible to have that and the romance as well, so this is me making that happen.

Darling,

It’s been 3 days since you saved the world. I can hear you objecting to my phrasing, so let me rephrase: it’s been 3 days since I saved the world and you were also there. Better, my dear?

This is very irksome, you know. I thought I’d make it more than 3 days without being so desperate to talk to you that I write a bunch of sentimental words down for all the world to see. And even worse, it would’ve been far less than 3 days if I’d been able to find any parchment in this godsforsaken city (we could have just let it burn, darling, no one would blame us!).

Frankly, I’m rather upset with you. Yes, I’m actually making up my mind right now. You don’t deserve a letter from me, you’re too lovely and too brilliant and too beautiful and you make it impossible to live without you.

I’ve decided to help out the spawn in the underdark. There. That’s all you’re getting from me.

______________

Perhaps I was a bit hasty. I apologize.

That’s something I’m working on doing more of, apologizing. I am getting quite a lot of practice, spending every day with people I seduced for… I’d rather not write his name, actually. But you know. People I seduced in order for him to turn and torture and starve and imprison them for a century or two.

As such, I am becoming an expert at apologizing for things no one could ever really apologize for.

If I was in a better mood I’d make a joke about how I’m spending time with thousands of my exes and you should be jealous. You’ll just have to imagine how hilarious it would be, and then pretend it’s not funny even though you’re smiling, and then roll your eyes at me like you always do. I even miss your exasperation. That’s… horrible. This is horrible.

I know it was my idea to go off and figure things out on my own but I’m beginning to suspect I’m the stupidest elf to ever live.

I can’t tell anymore if I’m being funny when I talk or if I’m just being mean. Is that how other people feel about me, that I’m mean? I think it probably is. Maybe I don’t want to be mean. That doesn’t sound right. I think I’m okay with being mean, I just want to be doing it on purpose.

You’re always so kind, but you have your meaner moments, don’t you? Gods, you’re so terrible with children. The things I’ve seen you say to them. They all think you’re dreadful. That’s something at least.

You see, I find it easier to bear your absence if I pretend your presence isn’t the best feeling in the world and everything you do isn’t perfect. I’m never able to pretend for very long, but I get a good couple minutes each day where I convince myself I’m scandalized by how you talk to children and not completely enchanted by it, and I miss you just slightly less.

_______________

It has been one month since we saved the world. I miss the sun almost as much as I miss you.

My siblings have actually made quite a bit of progress with the spawn. They’re talking about starting a school for the younger ones. It’s very strange. I hope they don’t become good people or we’ll have nothing to talk about anymore.

I had a chat with Sebastian this afternoon, which was also strange. He said, “it must be difficult seeing our faces day and night. Torturing yourself isn’t going to change anything for us. You’ve apologized; you might as well go figure out your next move.”

I think he’s just sick of seeing me and wants me to leave, but he found a kind way to say it.

But he’s not wrong to assume I have no plan after this. I might head above ground tonight and explore the city a bit, see if anything inspires me. I haven’t breathed spore-free air in what feels like years.

I think I could be okay with not having the sun if I had you. Having neither seems… unfair.

I suppose I deserve a bit of unfair.

_______________

2 months. Some very strange things have happened.

Firstly, I did take that walk. I very purposely avoided the part of the city where I heard you had settled, and then of course wound up walking right past a house that apparently belongs to your sister. I thought she was you for a moment and my heart stopped. Metaphorically, anyway.

I don’t love how much it destroyed me looking through a window and seeing someone I thought was you holding a child and kissing a spouse. Which is to say that it completely destroyed me even as it made me happy seeing you apparently happy.

I’m adding this experience to my list of reasons why forming attachments with other people is actually a bad idea and never worth it. I also have a list of reasons why attachments are good and worth it every time, which has only ever consisted of one item, which is your name. The good list wins every time, a fact which has also made its way to the bad list. No one person should have that much power!

If I’m not allowed to ascend, you’re not allowed to make me love you. It’s just as bad. You're drunk with power, darling, and it's time someone called you out on it.

Gods, you’ve completely distracted me from my point. Anyway, after I finally remembered that 2 months would not have been long enough for you to grow and birth and raise a toddler, and after I looked into the window once more and realized your sister does not actually look much like you at all, and also after I looked at the mailbox and saw your second name with a different first name, I pieced things together. Not quickly enough to keep your family from noticing the crazed vampire staring in their window, I’m sorry to say. Do give them my regards.

But after that, I ran into someone I recognized from the palace. One of the butlers, I think, or a general thrall. He was so excited to see me that he stopped me in the middle of the street and started calling me “Master” and babbling about having the carpets cleaned, so I said “strange man, what the hells are you talking about??” And he told me I was the most senior spawn still living and as such… have inherited the estate.

Now, I know this is difficult to believe given my refined manners and, well, my hair, but I’ve never actually owned a palace before. Much less one where I was trapped and tortured for a couple centuries. It’s a complicated situation. Everything is still very much in the air, but I wanted to tell you, and this is how I tell you things now. I will update you once I have an update.

_______________

I adopted a cat. I ran into Halsin on one of his supply runs into the city and he had His Majesty from Last Light with him. Apparently His Majesty had been picking fights with children (and more power to him, I’m sure you’d say), and I remembered his regal little face and volunteered to take him in without a second thought.

We are still… feeling each other out. But I gave him his own room in the estate, which I think he appreciated. The cat, I mean. Halsin doesn’t get a room.

I also do not have a room in the estate, as I am unwilling to set foot inside the building until it has been completely gutted and cleaned and the dungeons walled off permanently. Strangely enough, our old friend Barcus sent me a great team of his people to handle the renovations. Demolitions, as you can imagine, have been smooth, if a bit too enthusiastic. The gnomes have also been very nice about the whole vampire thing and willing to work nights whenever I need to be there to make decisions.

On a related note, I’ve added another item to the long list of crimes Cazador committed: laying carpeting over completely gorgeous vintage wood flooring! Murder and torture is bad, but that’s a whole other level. Thank the gods we got that criminal off the streets.

(Did you notice I wrote his name out? And then made a little joke? I think I’m rather proud of myself for that)

For the first time I’m glad we’re spending this time apart, because truly all I can talk about is tiles and paint samples and upholstery and you’d probably stake me within a couple days of being in my presence and it would be absolutely justified.

I ache for you.

_______________

3 months.

I have been thinking about my lists. I think, perhaps, it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, making them the sole positive attachment in your life.

I say this because I’ve been spending time with His Majesty to help him acclimate, and a gnome worker commented the other day that I’m the only living creature this cat will tolerate. It made me so sad, thinking of this lovely, affectionate cat who is only ever lovely and affectionate with me. Everyone else’s experience with him will always be negative. I’ll be the only one who’s sad when he dies, and people won’t even be sympathetic to me because they’ll think, well, he wasn’t very nice anyway, good riddance.

It seems like we at least owe it to our loved ones not to leave them alone with their grief when we die.

And no, my love, I did not see the parallels to any vampire with which we are acquainted, at least not until Halsin came by to check on him on his way out of town and I gave him this whole monologue. And then he just sort of stood there looking at me until he very gently hinted that perhaps there are other people who would be willing to love the cat “if he’d just show them his belly instead of his claws.”

At that point I just thought he was hitting on me, but after he explained a little further I finally got what he was trying to say.

Which is how I ended up wine drunk with Halsin last night. We have… a surprising amount of things in common. It was disconcerting.

He also offered me some sort of mysterious substance from his pipe which I politely declined, and it was only after this that he told me a friend of his had smoked it just the night before and it had sent them into a panic attack. So if Halsin ever offers you his pipe, darling, just say no. Given your already nervous constitution, and I say this with love, you’d be absolutely fucked.

Speaking of drunk! You may be wondering how I’ve been keeping myself fed. Some of the Sharess employees have picked up on the increased demand from all these newly-free vampires and have started offering blood drinking as a service, but I’m hesitant to drink from another humanoid. My siblings think I’m being a stick in the mud, but I’ve heard them talking about people they’ve tasted and none of them sound anywhere close to the experience of drinking from you. I feel as if I’ve only ever tasted the most exquisitely aged brandy and I’m being offered tiefling wine as a replacement. I just think it would break my heart.

That said, non-vermin animals have offered a surprising range of flavors. I’ve found I’m partial to owlbears. Something about the risk makes them taste better, I think. Sort of earthy and vegetal? Not bad. In the alcohol metaphor this would be something akin to a local brew. Still a downgrade, but different enough that it doesn’t sting as much.

My good list has 3 names now, by the way: you, Halsin (this was a wine decision, but I’m allowing it for now), and His Majesty.

_______________

4 months? I think?

Listen darling, I’ll just get this out of the way: I’ve had many glasses of brandy. What’s that you say? How many is many? I stopped counting at six, my dear!

You know sometimes I think, absence is absence makes the heart grow fonder. And then I think of you, my blossom, my peach, my absolute tadpole (workshopping that one but i like it), and I think, well fuck. Maybe I’m making it up, maybe she’s not as wonderful as I remember?

And so I thik of all your worst qualities, and I concentrate so hard on them, and my love, my petal, my sweet corn, do you know what happens then? I can’t even think of any

OH wait, that’s not true. That thing when you talk and you have a bubble in your throat that you haven’t swallowed and your voice comes out weird and it makes me want to set myself on fire

Also you’re so hard on yourself, it drives me up an absolute wall. I just want to grab your shoulders and shake you and yell “be nice to my girlfriend”

And then grab other things and shake them…?

I’m far too drunk to be seductive, but just imagine me saying some absolutely filthy things in your ear right now in that voice you like. YOU KNOW THE ONE. Gods, I can’t wait to use it on you again.

I just waaaaant. I want you here so bad all the time.

I want your smell and your touch and your skin and your everything everywhere on me and around me

And… in me? Cheeky, darling. I’m not saying no, but now’s hardly the time

Love and like and cherish and worship and want, a.

_______________

No one has ever felt this ill before and no one ever will again.

I refuse on principle to take back anything I wrote last night, but let’s all agree to forget the corn thing, shall we?

And that cheeky bit at the end–really very unbecoming of you to take advantage of an incapacitated elf like that. Again, I’m not saying no, just. The timing really makes me think less of you, love.

_______________

To be honest, darling, I’m running out of things to say. Six months is a month away and I’m trying so hard not to just watch the clock all day (well, all night).

Has this time been worth it? Nothing is worth this, but if I put aside the heartache, it’s been amazing. I truly never thought I’d be able to become… whoever it is I’ve become.

When the tadpole happened, I saw hope for the first time. I thought I’d finally have control over my life if I had control over the tadpole. If I had control over everything. I honestly never saw another way.

It’s a testament to you that you saw all of this coming from the beginning. You looked at me, this open wound oozing hurt and fear and anger, and you saw a person. You thought I was funny (admit it) and clever, and worth getting to know.

You gave me the space to say no to you, and loved me regardless.

I don’t think I’m nearly as powerful without you, darling. But over these months I’ve accomplished things I’m proud of all on my own, which is fairly unprecedented.

I’m beside myself with excitement to see you again, to give you a tour of this place. You’ll like what I did in the bedroom. And that’s not even a line, I genuinely think you’ll appreciate the color palette! It reminds me of you.

And maybe if you like it we can engage in some mutual appreciation, if you know what I mean.

I don't, but maybe you do. My pickup lines have gone all to shit without you, my muse.

My good list has several names on it now. Yours is still at the top. But you're not the sole thing keeping me afloat anymore. I thought that would make me feel distant from you in some way. I never realized it would give me even more space to appreciate you for who you are instead of what you provide.

Knowing I don’t need you gives me more room to want you, I think.

Anyway, I’m not sure I have another one of these installments in me. Thank you for reading this far, if you have. The version of you who is sitting at your kitchen table reading this (that’s a guess but wouldn’t it be funny if it was right?) has been my companion for all these months, and I cherish her as I cherish every other version of you.

A.

_______________

Sending this today.

I want to be clear, I don’t expect anything. I didn’t ask you to wait around pining for me for all this time, and I wouldn’t have wanted that anyway.

So if you’ve moved on, if you’re happier where you are, if getting this letter ruins your day–it’s alright. I will miss you, maybe forever, but I have friends and a new line of work and a handsome son (to be clear I’m referring to His Majesty, I didn’t give birth since the last time I wrote). All of these things will keep me afloat.

However, if your heart and your life still have room for me, and if you think I would improve them with my presence, I will be overjoyed to share all of these things with you.

I want to meet your sister and hear you try to make conversation with her toddler. I want to show you everything I’ve done to update the estate, and I want you to make it feel like home just by being there. I want to hear all of your thoughts on Jaheira and Nine-Fingers and speculate on their love life.

I want it all, and I want it all with you.

See you soon, my love.

[blueninjablade3]

Yandere Jafar Alphabet

Good ole’ Jaffy doesn't really show affection through physical or compliments until you've fallen for him. The only real reason you KNOW he cares is because he's made sure you've not died.

Blood: How dirty is he willing to get when it comes to you?

Blood is NEVER the first resort. It's the third option. Now the first option is to try and weed them out of your life with subtle manipulation. If that doesn't work then he will directly tell them to fuck off. No shits given. Just “Get away or I will personally behead you” type things. Then if the threat doesn't work he’ll go through with it. After framing them for treason to make it look unsuspicious. (It doesn't work)

Cruelty: how will they treat you once kidnapped will he mock you?

Yes. He will mock you relentlessly at first. However, as you slowly accept fate. (Unwillingly) He’ll treat you more and more like royalty. Just don't forget your place. Otherwise well… you can guess.

Darling: besides kidnapping you would he do anything else against your will?

Yes. A great many things actually. Hypnosis, treason against the Sultan, part of his evil plan being to marry a minor (Gross.), and maybe killing?

Exposed: How much of his heart do you bear?

You bear quite a bit of Jafar’s heart. Now, his love for power and control outweighs his obsession love for you. However, you're still 3rd in his cold, dark, and evil heart.

Fight: How would he feel if you fought back?

Jafar would be PISSED if you fought back. He treats you so well and this is how you repay him?! You're so ungrateful! Any privileges are immediately lost if you fight against him.

Game: Is this a Game to them? Would he like watching his darling try to escape?

The love part is NOT a game. However, he does enjoy watching you try to escape. He thinks of it as a twisted game of cat and mouse. However, he's displeased that you're trying to run. Is he not good enough for you?

Hell: Your worst experience with him.

Y'all remember that one scene when Jasmine confronts Jafar about Aladdin’s sentence? So imagine that just with (for the story's sake Im calling your love Gary) Gary/ Oc’s name. But he doesn't apologize he just leaves you to yourself no friends to reach out to or anything. You only have him.

Ideals: what he sees in the future with you.

He sees himself ruling the world with you by his side as his wife and queen. Maybe an heir or two just so someone who has had some relation to y'all can inherit the throne. (He is not letting Iago be the world’s Sultan)

Jealousy: does he get jealous and if he does, does he find a way to cope or will he lash out?

Oh, honey. This man is KING (He’s finally king of something!) of jealousy. Now, whether you two are in a relationship or not affects how Jafar acts. If you are? He does not cope he lashes out and gets super protective (From the minimal research I've done, Cobras are a protective breed of snake and often battle for dominance which I think transfers to Jafar's human form). But, if you two aren't in a relationship he will (begrudgingly) bite his tongue.

Kisses: How does he act around you?

It depends on the day. Some days he's a sweetheart (Those are the good days). But on bad days… he is a literal demon. Don't mess with him on those days. Just cuddle up and pretend like you're not fazed by this and listen to his rant (maybe throw in a little shit-talking the Sultan).

Love letters: how would he go about courting/approaching you?

THIS SUAVE MF. Roses, chocolate, and fancy dates IF you start liking him immediately. Now he's a lot more subtle if you see him as a friend at first. But still.

Mask: Are his truth colors different from what people think?

You saw the movie you know. But if you didn't. Yup, they are very different.

Naughty: how would he punish you?

Too many ways to count. But still. hE’Ll tEacH yoU soMe rEspEct!!!

Oppression: what rights did he take away from you:

Freedom primarily. Also when it comes to political issues your opinion doesn't matter. (It does but he makes you think he doesn't seriously take it seriously)

Regret: does he regret kidnapping you? Will he ever let you go?

Fuck no.

Sigma: what brought this side of him?

This man is by definition is a yandere. You were just unlucky enough to catch his interest and hold it.

Tears: how would he feel if you cried screamed or Isolated yourself?

If you cry or scream (Unless you're crying because it's like a book, movie, or sentimental moment) Stfu is pretty his reaction. But if you isolate yourself he's making you talk to him or Iago one way or the other.

Unique: is there anything different from a normal Yandere

He can execute his rivals and no one will bat an eye.

Vice: what can you use to escape him?

You can't escape.

Witts end: would he ever hurt you

If you force him to.

Xoanon: how much does he revere/worship you and to what extent is he willing to go to win you over

He is insane over you. He is willing to go to extreme lengths (part of his reason for wanting the lamp is so you'll fall desperately in love with him.

Yearn: How long before he snapped and kidnapped you?

He was tired of this shit after the third rival. But he could wait forever for you to fall for him.

Zenith: would he ever break you?

Does a spell/ slash genie magic count as breaking you?

Alright guys that finished this story out if you have time and enjoyed I’d enjoy it if you left a heart, rebloged or commented. Have a great day!

[maliciousandmizerablevampirism]

︶꒷꒦︶𝔖𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡︶꒦꒷︶

༺I Tags: one-shot, fem! reader x William James Moriarty, fluff, beach day idk, modern AU

༺I Warnings: barely any, just slightly suggestive at the end?? pretty short too

You noticed William had been overworking himself again. He wasn't sleeping nor eating well and you were getting worried because of it. So you had you negotiate with him, and it was no easy work. You wanted him to take at least a small break from everything else.

He complained and tried to make up an excuse for every idea you had to spend your vacations with him, but when he actually gazed at your endearing eyes he just had to submit to your enchantments and say yes.

"Only because you look at me like that."

"I'll go put my swimsuit on," you said once the two of you had finally arrived at your beach house.

He nodded and put his own swimsuit on. He was planning on wearing a modest one, yet he didn't want to get his skin damaged by the Sun in case he had totake his shirt off and that's why he needed your help to put sunscreen on his back.

You came out of the changing room with your new swimsuit and he tried not to pay attention to it.

"Could you please help me, darling?" he asked as he grinned.

"Of course, handsome."

The sunscreen made it quise easy for your fingers to softly slid against his back, nape and shoulders first. Then you continued with his chest and his slightly toned abs. Nonetheless, when your hands went up to his face you noticed how flustered he had grown.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing, I can..." he muttered nervously, "I can do that by myself."

"You'll do your arms and legs. Let me finish with your face, alright?"

The blond tried to look away from your eyes. Letting you see him acting that shy would be a bit... embarrassing. And to make it worse, you kissed his jaw.

"Thank you, my love."

"It's your time to help me out though." You turned your back to him.

"Sure," he said. And he did what you asked him to with a bit of hesitation. Letting his fingertips caress your bare back and shoulders felt too good to be true.

Once he was done putting the sunscreen on you, you ran to the pool and when you came out of it your whole body was soaking wet. The Sun made your skin colour look more stunning if that's even possible in his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" you frowned rather playfully.

William walked towards you and placed his hands against your waist before pulling you into a deep, desired kiss.

"Gorgeous. You look gorgeous. Don't look this gorgeous if you don't want me to die from a heart attack or to kiss you until we never go back home," he spoke.

You threw your arms around his neck and immediately kissed him again. Yet you didn't realize how hard you pulled him, and both of you ended up falling into the pool.

Liam looked at you and started laughing when he saw how suprised you were. Soon you were both a laughing mess.

"Do I even have to tell you you look gorgeous as well?" You ran your fingers through his now wet hair, earning a smile from your dearest.

"Do I really, pretty woman?" He smirked.

"Yes, you do, precious man." Soon he was sitting on the stairs of the pool as you were almost pinning him against the wall of it. "Why are you blushing so hard though? Just calm down."

He could only manage to chuckle and bury his face into the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses here and there.

"You know why, (Name)," he whispered.

You teased him with more and more kisses all over his face.

"(Name)..." he softly moaned. "It tickles."

You didn't mind overwhelming him. In fact, that was pretty much your intention.

You two went to the sea many hours later and held each other's hands. It was already late at night, so you could see the moonlight stroking your boyfriend's soft skin, which was truly a sight to behold. This time he was the one who caught you staring at him, but instead of teasing you like you would've done, he just blushed and smiled innocently at you.

You gave him a little peck on the lips and noticed the subtle yet obvious salty taste on them. Were his cheeks pink because he had been sunkissed or because he was simply infatuated with you?

"It's too dark here, Liam. We should go back to our house and-"

He didn't even let you finish. He had felt the need to pull you closer to him.

"Can't you just... eat my heart, crawl into my skin and become one with me for once and for all? I need you."

Your eyes widened at his odd request and tried to utter at least one word despite having gone absolutely weak now.

"I need to feel your warmth to another level, (Name). Please, I don't know what to do." He was basically whimpering and you found that this was making you dizzy (in a strangely nice way).

"That's why we should go back home, my angel. I'll help you there. You'll find out how soon," you said as you grabbed his hand and took him to your house, to the heaven of your bed.

[nejibaby]

precursor

Pairing: Haitani Ran x Reader

Description: Haitani Ran just might be the most overprotective father.

Word count: 0.8k

Once in a while Haitani Ran indulges in his simple pleasures in life — these being (1) sleeping for at least 15 hours, and (2) spending the day with his dear family.

Thus on his rare days off, an unofficial rule in the Haitani household is to not wake him up from his slumber. Simply because a well-rested Ran guarantees a better day.

However, on a certain Friday afternoon, what Ran doesn’t know is that his 18 hours of sleep would be a precursor to one of the most terrible days of his life.

So he smiles, stretches and almost rushes out of bed when he smells the freshly baked cookies you’ve made. And he grins when he hears his precious daughter giggling while you coo at her.

“Aren’t you two having too much fun without me?” Ran says with mirth as he enters the living room.

“Daddy!” Your daughter almost trips trying to reach Ran as quickly as possible.

He picks her up and spins her around as usual. Giggles immediately leave her mouth — an automatic response when she spends time with her father.

You watch with delight at their antics. And when he brings her back down to her chair, a smirk appears on your lips as you say, “Baby, why don’t you tell daddy what happened today?”

Your daughter perks up and begins to animatedly tell her father about all that has transpired in the previous hours at her school. Ran listens attentively and even matches her energy when he responds. She ends her narrative with her widest smile saying, “And when I was about to be picked up, a boy kissed me today!”

Ran splutters in shock. He shoots a glare at your direction when he hears you snicker.

“Wh-what did you say, darling? I don’t think I heard that right,” he asks your daughter.

“A boy kissed me today, daddy!” She giggles in glee, kicking her tiny feet in the air.

The look of horror on Ran’s face is comical and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from laughing. “Is he your boyfriend now, baby?” You tease.

“No! My baby does not have a boyfriend!” Ran answers your question in her stead.

“She’s our baby,” you correct.

“Not if you’re condoning this nonsense,” he mumbles.

“And she can speak for herself. Right, baby?”

“Mmh!" She nods as she munches on a cookie.

Ran pales and becomes rigid for half a minute and then suddenly he's standing up and leaving the room. You and your daughter are left dumbfounded by his actions but before you can even call him out, he's back, bringing a photo album with him.

He flips a couple of pages and points to your daughter's class picture last year. "Show daddy the boy who kissed you,” he says in a sickeningly sweet tone.

You’re left gaping at your husband, trying to wrap your head around his sudden interest with the boy.

“But daddy, he wasn’t my classmate last year. He just transferred a few months ago.”

Ran frowns. “Tell me his name then.”

You squint, finally realizing that he’s interrogating your daughter.

You turn to her, “No, baby. Don’t tell daddy his name.”

“Tell Uncle Rindou then,” Ran amends.

“Uncle Rinnie?” Your daughter repeats excitedly. “Is Uncle Rinnie coming?”

“Yes, baby. He’s on his way here as we speak. You can tell him all about the fuc— I mean, the boy who kissed you.”

You’re about to interject but your daughter responds faster, “I don’t know, daddy.” She crinkles her nose. “Uncle Rinnie still hasn’t given me the lollipop I wanted…”

“I’ll get it for you if you tell him,” Ran bribes her, which evidently works based on how giddy your daughter looks.

“Okay, that’s enough, Ran,” you shoot him a look, although it goes unnoticed as his hopeful eyes are on his daughter. “We need to talk.”

You’re dragging your husband out of the room but that doesn’t stop him from trying to get more information. “If you don’t want to tell Uncle Rindou, at least let Uncle Kakucho know!” He yells just as you both reach the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You raise a brow at him, putting your hands on your hips.

“What were you doing when it happened?”

“I’m just letting kids be kids.”

“Kids aren’t supposed to kiss!”

“And you shouldn’t be involved in Bonten, but I guess we can’t have everything we want,” you argue. “Now stop being a menace.”

“I wasn’t even being a menace! Just, you know… Uhm… curious.”

“Well then, stop.”

Ran huffs and then he pouts.

This fucker, you think. He’s utilizing his charms, knowing full well its effect on you.

“Whatever,” you yield. “Just don’t endanger a child over a silly kiss. Save that for when she gets her heart broken or something.”

Ran grins and salutes, “Okay, boss.”

He watches you walk away from him and try as he might, he can’t prevent the lovesick look he exhibits, knowing that he married the right one.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

[ax-y10]

hii!!

i saw ur wilbur x reader fic of reader being obsessed with his fluffy hair and i adored it!!! it was so cute !!

as a curly haired gal, it got me thinking of fem!reader who has curly hair helping will style his curls and teaching him how to do it

thank you!! :]

Fluffy Pt.2

In which- you love his curls, and you may have taught him a new skill

A/n: thx for your request, I love your writing. I'm genuinely trying so fucking hard to get stuff out so I can clear my drafts.

Headcanon info: I actually don't know but it's mainly fluff, pet names, swearing, and Wilbur being a little shit

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

Having someone with the same hair type as you was definitely a plus in the relationship.

Being able to relate to each and every hair problem, like it not curling right, or it becoming really frizzy etc.

So when you met Wilbur, your curly-haired boyfriend, The hair twirling he would do would be so calming, each and every finger lacing through your hair effortlessly.

The same goes for you, his short, fluffy and curly hair so soothing to you and your fingers, being able to separate each curl, making it poofier.

One day, you proposed the idea of teaching him how to curl his hair and style it, you having curly hair and knowing how to help, and he immediately agreed.

Now, if you have long hair, you would have to learn how to style short hair, your long hair techniques not working.

But of you had shorter hair, it would be so much easier to help him, the occasional challenge here and there but overall super easy to help.

The showers together washing each others hair and the late nights, him sat on the bathroom counter, you applying random things in his hair to experiment

"Darling? What the fuck is Aloe Vera? Don't tell me you're putting this in my hair... FUCK OFF NO!" He'd protest. "But it'll help the curls" "Okay"

He'd be so happy and bubbly the next day because his hair was bouncy

And Ash would text you and say "What the fuck happened to Wil?"

And your text back? "I made his hair bouncy"

This golden retriever motherfucker would genuinely be like "OMG ASH MY HAIR'S BOUNCY! LOOK!" and he'd make a point by pulling on a strand of hair and it bouncing back.

(I actually don't know what else to say so here's a small drabble)

You proposed the idea of styling his curls while sitting on the couch watching a movie. Well, in reality, you were currently in a staring contest with him, him starting it by staring at you hair, obsessing over your curls. You'd lost, of course, so he got to separate your curls and make your hair poofy, much to your dismay, but at least he was happy. "Wil, I should style your curls like mine. You seem to love my hair, so you can obsess over yours instead of fucking up my hair," You spoke, half jokingly, him probably being scared of all the weird stuff you were going to put in his hair, but he immediately agreed. "YES! Lets go, come one" And you were being dragged to the bathroom, and sat on the bench so you could reach his head. "Now sweet, you are going to have to stay still for me while I wet your hair," and this motherfucker shook his hair. "Hold the fuck up, I can't put this stuff in your hair until you stop dancing around like a maniac and stay in front of me, and I especially can't dry your hair," you scolded while your boyfriend bounced around the bathroom, already obsessing over his wet curls. Eventually, you got his hair all prepped for the morning, despite his protests against many products. You wrapped it in a small towel and went to bed, knowing he's going to wake up on the floor, towel across the room, and the blankets stolen from his moving around. Surprisingly, you woke up to him making you breakfast with his curls perfectly intact.

[glorf1ndel]

Glorestor please!!! (silm blog @mae-it-be-an-evening-dhros)

Your ask inspired me to write the first chapter of a Glorestor fic! Hope you enjoy. :D Also on Ao3 here!

Darling (800 words, Glorestor)

“Who’s the cutest little thing of all time?”

Not again, Erestor thought. The counselor was standing in the corridor outside Elrond’s office, talking to Lindir about Second Age musicians, but at the sound of Glorfindel’s voice, he pursed his lips in annoyance. Over the past few weeks, the captain had become overly flirtatious with the counselor. It was almost as if he knew about Erestor’s interest in him; after all, who in Imladris hadn’t fallen in love with the golden-haired hero of Gondolin? But no, Erestor kept a tight lid on his feelings. Still, Glorfindel would take every opportunity to mess with him, whether they were alone or in public. Random touches, winking, even the occasional whisper in Erestor’s ear. And the worst part of it all? The pet names. Quite frankly, being called cutie or sweetheart was becoming unbearable.

Erestor whirled around, prepared to tell the captain off–

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense, Glorfindel–“

Only to find himself facing, yes, Glorfindel, but also… A cat? A kitten, actually. The captain had crouched down and was petting the small, furry creature, his gaze filled with adoration. Upon hearing the counselor, he looked up and smiled.

“Erestor! Come see who I found!” Glorfindel picked up the kitten, then rose to his feet. “Aren’t you the sweetest, most lovely baby?” He cooed.

Erestor hesitated, his words catching in his throat.

“Oh, Eru, you thought he was talking to you?” Lindir whispered.

“Shut up, Lindir!”

“Come here,” Glorfindel called again.

Erestor took a deep breath and walked over. Thankfully, Lindir did not follow, but his laughter echoed down the corridor. At least Glorfindel seemed to not have heard the minstrel’s teasing, or that would have been the end of Erestor.

“I just found this kitten wandering the corridors.”

Shaking off his nerves, Erestor took a good look at the kitten, which had settled comfortably in Glorfindel’s arms. A girl, he acknowledged. The kitten had long, black hair and blue eyes that were slowly closing as she fell asleep.

“I think I’m going to keep her. What should her name be?”

“She probably belongs to someone, Glorfindel.”

“Well, I suppose I can ask around. But if nobody says anything, she’s mine.”

“All right.” Erestor said with a shrug. “I don’t know how you have time to take care of a cat.”

“They’re not very high maintenance. I had one back in Gondolin; his name was Sunnybell. He was always wandering around the grounds, doing what he pleased.”

Erestor smiled slightly. Whenever Glorfindel talked about his time in Gondolin before the city’s fall, it was with a fondness that lit up his face. Even Erestor could not deny that seeing Glorfindel smile was a pleasant thing.

“Well, I hope you can come up with a better name for this one than Sunnybell.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Glorfindel mused, “she kind of looks like you. With the black hair and blue eyes.” He stroked the kitten’s fur gently. “Maybe I’ll name you Erestor.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, Erestor is not a name for a female cat.”

“Erestorellë, then.”

“Glorfindel, I am vetoing your giving that cat any version of my name.”

“Aww, but wouldn’t you want the most adorable sweetheart in the world to be called Erestor?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. The words left his mouth immediately:

“From all the ridiculous things you’ve been saying lately, I thought I already was.”

Glorfindel stilled. Slowly, his gaze crept up from the kitten to Erestor. That was when Erestor realized he’d made a mistake, because the look in Glorfindel’s eyes was amused, yes, but more than that, it was knowing.

“Erestor, are you jealous of this cat?”

“What?” He hissed, fighting to keep himself from blushing. “Don’t be daft.”

Glorfindel shook his head, his blond curls swirling around his shoulders. The sudden movement made the kitten stir, and she started playing with Glorfindel’s hair. Oh, to be in Glorfindel’s arms, Erestor thought, like a fool.

“You are!” Glorfindel insisted. “You don’t want me to call this kitten cute, or sweet, or lovely, because you want to be the only one I call those things.”

“What I want is to wipe that smug look off your face.”

“With your lips.”

“You are a horrible Elf,” Erestor said, because how in Middle Earth was he supposed to respond to that? “Stop teasing me. And don’t give this cat my name.”

Glorfindel only shrugged, which gave Erestor an opening to walk away. He swiveled on his heel, prepared to flee the scene. Of course, Glorfindel chose that very moment to call out,

“If you say so, darling!”

Keep walking, Erestor told himself, even as Glorfindel’s laughter made his heart ache. He would have to spend less time around the captain, especially now that Glorfindel had found the kitten. It would not do to get used to this.

[maiiefizz]

Jegulus Prompt: Amortentia

12.04.24, @jegulus-microfic

681 Words

____

James has often heard about the phenomenon of "X fell first, Y fell harder".

And he is certain that he is the exception.

Because it's not possible to idolise someone harder or stronger than he does it with Regulus Arcturus Black.

Because, and this is the problem, Regulus thinks James is terrible. He makes him feel it all the time.

Ever since the younger black moved in with James and Sirius (or rather James' parents), he at least talkes to James. But it's mostly just insults or snide remarks. But that's a start, isn't it?

So James has been the only one to fall so far.

James needs a plan to show Regulus that he's actually quite cool.

And the best way is for Regulus to just think he's cool!

Okay, yes, James knows how that sounds, but listen to him!

If he could theoretically infuse Regulus with a certain potion that would make him like him, then.... That would be a step in the right direction, wouldn't it?

James has even spoken to Sirius about it and he's totally on his side. (Okay, you see, James didn't tell Sirius it was about Regulus, but he agreed anyway, so it's all good).

So one morning, James puts a few drops of Amortentia in Regulus' juice at the breakfast table. And less than 2 minutes later, he sees Regulus finish the glass.

(Just don't ask where James got the potion from, he won a few bets against drunken teachers at the Three Broomsticks)

James knows that someone who drinks Amortentia turns pale and looks ill, but Regulus (and Sirius to be honest) is always as pale as if he's about to catch the flu.

So you can't tell the difference on the outside.

Normally the potion should take effect immediately, but James hardly notices any difference. Is the potion broken? Can something like this have a best-before date?

"What are you staring at, James?" Regulus suddenly snaps him out of his thoughts.

"I'm not staring at-" he breaks off mid sentence, only to continue shortly afterwards, "What did you just call me?"

"...James? Isn't that your name anymore?" Regulus replies snippily.

"You've never called me James before."

Regulus blushes, briefly averts his eyes, but immediately looks at him again: "Why does it smell more like you here today than usual? How pungent can your heavenly scent be?" Regulus' face takes on a strawberry colour and he immediately jumps up, wants to leave, but goes straight to James and hugs him.

James laughs softly, "Is everything all right, Reggi?"

"Shut up."

He runs his hand through Reggi's curls, putting an arm around him.

"I'd be a really good friend for you, you know?"

"I know."

"I wish you were like that too, without Amortentia."

"James, I'm not on drugs."

"Yes, darling, I put something in your juice."

"I drink the juice every morning, I can tell when something's different about it. I can do magic too, you know."

James pushes Regulus away from him and looks at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Now it's Regulus who grins. "Well, let me put it this way, I hope for your sake Sirius hasn't drunk his juice yet."

"Regulus, what are you doing here with me?" James looks at Regulus, who is still clinging to him and hugging him.

"What do you want it to be?"

"I don't care, as long as it's with you."

"Sop"

They both smile shyly at each other until James realises that Regulus is looking at his lips rather than into his eyes.

But just as their lips almost touch, the door to the kitchen is yanked open. "Jammiieee-" cries Sirius, staring wide-eyed at James, "Hello, dear! What took you so long? I've been looking for you!" He sprints towards James and Regulus, tearing them apart and clinging to James with his arms and legs. "Sirius! I'm busy with -" but he sees Regulus goes out of the room, with a kiss, which he symbolically throws at James through the air before closing the door and disappearing.

Seems like James wasn't the only one who fell.