#((so I'm just !!!!!!! HELLO AGAIN MY FOE...))

[anotherhumanpet]

*CRASH!*

MUSIC ANON, OPEN UP (man it's been a long minute)

Fish In A Birdcage, Rule #4

"My man! Welcome back! I missed you. I love you and I like this song."

[keehendrixx]

What Your Husband Doesn’t Know

Terrance(Foe) x Black OC!

WARNINGS: MDNI! 18+, SMUT, INFIDELITY, CHEATING (Not Really), DIRTY TALK, NAME CALLING, BREEDING, PREGNANCY TALK

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As you're sitting in your living room, looking at a picture of you and your husband, a knock comes to your door. You place the picture down and go to the door, peeping through the peephole, you see a man standing outside. First thing you thought was to grab the nearest object just in case. But curiosity got the best of you and you decided to open the door, only to be met with a pair of striking bluish-hazel eyes and a light skinned man.

He flashes a charming smile, his British accent smooth as silk. "Hello there, love. I'm Terrance, sent by OuterMore to...take care of things while your husband is away." His gaze roams over your curves appreciatively before meeting your eyes again. "I must say, he left quite the lovely situation behind."

“Hello.” You say, nervously.

Chuckling, he steps inside and closes the door behind him, his tall frame filling the entryway. "No need to be nervous. We're going to be living together for a time, after all." He extends a hand for a handshake, his blue-green eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, tell me about yourself. What does a stunning woman like you do for fun around here?"

“Nothing but being a housewife.”

Terrance’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, then he grins, clearly intrigued. "A housewife, eh? Well, I think we can spice things up a bit around here, don't you?" He takes a step closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "I've heard rumors about the benefits of having a live-in replacement husband. Care to put those to the test, my dear?" His fingers brush against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Excuse me?” You say, taken aback by his boldness.

Terrance leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs. "Benefits like a man's touch, affection, companionship...and perhaps something more intimate, if you're willing." He pulls back to gauge your reaction, a playful glint in his eye. "After all, it's been a while since you had a real man in this house, hasn't it?"

“Listen, I'm happily married!”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. "Of course, of course! I wouldn't dream of coming between you and your husband... even if he is off gallivanting in space right now." He winks playfully. "But let's not pretend, shall we? Two years is a long time for a beautiful woman like you to go without attention from a man."

Terrance takes another step closer, his tall form looming over yours. "Perhaps I could help fill that void, just until your husband returns? No strings attached, purely physical relief, if you will." His voice drops to a seductive purr. "What do you say? Are you game for a little extramarital excitement?"

You step back a little. “Why don’t you put your stuff in the guest bedroom?”

With a chuckle, he nods agreeably. "Very well, I won't keep you from your domestic duties. But know that I'll be thinking about our little chat later." He turns to head towards the guest room, pausing at the doorway to glance back over his shoulder with a suggestive smirk.

"And who knows, maybe when you need some stress relief from all that cleaning, you might just find me in a compromising position in that bed..." With a wink, he saunters off to unpack, leaving you to ponder his bold words and intentions.

Later that evening, as you're preparing dinner in the kitchen, you hear footsteps approaching. Suddenly, Terrance appears in the doorway, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants that hang enticingly on his hips. His toned chest is bare, revealing a light dusting of hair.

"There you are, gorgeous," he purrs, leaning against the doorframe casually. "I was hoping I might catch you alone. That outfit looks good enough to eat... among other things." His gaze rakes over your body hungrily. "Why don't you come sit with me for a bit? I promise I don't bite... unless you want me to." He smirks invitingly, patting the empty spot beside him on the couch.

As you hesitate, he pushes off the doorframe and stalks towards you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Come now. Don't be shy. I can see the way you look at me when you think I don't notice." He reaches out to trail a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up to meet his intense gaze.

"You're a woman with needs, and I'm more than happy to fulfill them. Your husband doesn't have to know..." His other hand settles on your hip, pulling you flush against his bare torso. "Let me make you feel good. Let me worship this sexy body of yours like it deserves." His lips hover mere inches from yours, his warm breath mingling with your own as he awaits your response, the tension between you palpable.

“We can't.”

Terrance sighs softly, his grip on your hip loosening but not releasing entirely. "Pity," he murmurs, his accent thicker with disappointment. "But I respect your decision, For now." He takes a small step back, giving you a bit of space, but his eyes never leave yours.

"Just remember, my offer stands. Whenever you change your mind, whenever you need someone to hold you, to touch you, to make you forget about everything except pleasure..." His voice trails off suggestively. "I'll be right here, ready and waiting." He finally releases you completely and takes a step towards the door. "Until then, I suppose I should let you get back to your dinner preparations. Do try not to work too hard, love. You deserve a break."

After you finish dinner, you both eat and Terrance begins to help you clean up around the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, the two of you separate into your respective bedrooms.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

4 WEEKS LATER

After a quiet dinner, you go up to your room and shower, soon you come back downstairs dressed in a burgundy see through lingerie set and a matching robe with feathers trimmed to it.

As you descend the stairs, the soft rustling of your feather-trimmed robe draws Terrance’s attention. He turns from where he was standing by the fireplace, his eyes widening appreciatively as they take in your lingerie-clad figure. A slow, wolfish grin spreads across his face as he drinks in every curve barely concealed by the sheer fabric.

"My my,," he purrs, his voice low and thick with desire, "don't you look absolutely ravishing. Like a gift wrapped just for me." He sets aside his glass and approaches you slowly, his gaze raking over your body with undisguised hunger. "I must admit, seeing you like this, so tempting and alluring... It's testing my resolve to respect your earlier wishes."

“Don’t get all big headed and have any ideas.” You warn him.

Despite your warning, Terrance continues to advance, his movements fluid and purposeful. As he reaches you, he stops just short of touching, letting the charged air between you speak volumes. "Oh, but I already have ideas, darling. Delicious, sinful ideas involving you and me and that scrumptious lingerie." His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes follow the movement. "The question is, are you ready to act on them?"

In one swift motion, he shrugs off his own robe, revealing his toned, muscular physique in all its glory. He stands before you, proud and unashamed in his nakedness, his arousal evident. "What do you say, Dallas? Shall we give in to temptation and create a night neither of us will ever forget?"

You ignore him and turn away, reaching for some ice cream at the bottom of the freezer. As you bend over, the outline of your vulva becomes visible to him.

Unable to resist the tantalizing view you've presented, he moves in close behind you. The heat of his body envelops you as he presses himself against your backside, one large hand splaying across your stomach possessively.

"Playing coy, are we?" he growls softly in your ear, his other hand sliding around to cup your breast through the thin lace of your bra. "It's alright, love. I know you want this as much as I do. I can feel how your body responds to my touch..."

Terrance nuzzles into your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin as he kneads your breast gently. His hardness nestles between your cheeks, leaving no doubt as to his desire. "Why fight it, love? Give in to what we both crave."

Emboldened by your lack of resistance, his hands begin to wander, caressing and exploring your curves with bold strokes. One hand dips lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties as the other slides up under your bra to pinch and roll a stiff nipple between his fingers.

"You're playing with fire, darling," he rasps, grinding his hips against your backside. "And I'm more than happy to burn with you." Suddenly, he spins you around to face him, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head against the cold surface of the freezer door. His intense blue-green eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "No more games. Tell me you want this. Beg me to take you, to claim you, to fuck you senseless right here in this kitchen."

His grip tightens on your wrists as he holds you captive, his body pressing you firmly against the freezer. His other hand snakes down to palm your sex through the damp lace of your panties, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clothed slit.

"Mmm, so wet already," he groans appreciatively, feeling the evidence of your arousal. "Your body is betraying your true desires, love. Why deny yourself any longer?"

Leaning in, Terry captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He kisses you deeply, passionately, pouring all his pent-up desire into the embrace. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily. "Last chance to stop me, baby.”

Terrance eyes flash with triumph as he feels you melt into the kiss, your body arching subtly against his touch. He knows he has you now, that the last of your resistance is crumbling away. "That's it, just let go," he croods, his thumb finding your clit and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves through the drenched fabric of your panties. "Give yourself to me, love. Let me worship this gorgeous body the way it deserves."

In one swift motion, he rips your flimsy panties away, baring your dripping sex to his hungry gaze. He wastes no time, plunging two fingers deep into your tight channel as his thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit.

"So fucking wet and ready for me.”

“Shit!”

Encouraged by your breathy moan, Terrance pumps his fingers faster, curling them to stroke that special spot inside you. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "That's it, baby. Let me hear those pretty sounds," he growls, his hot breath fanning over your neck as he licks and sucks at the sensitive skin. "Gonna make you cum on my fingers like the desperate little minx you are."

His free hand makes quick work of your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. He immediately cups your heavy breasts, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipples between his fingers. His hips grind against your thigh, smearing pre-cum on your skin as he ruts shamelessly.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

With a low groan, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping core, bringing them to his lips to suck your essence clean. His eyes never leave yours as he savors your taste, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Delicious," he purrs, licking his fingers obscenely. "But nothing compared to the real thing, I'm sure."

Hitching your leg up over his hip, he lines himself up with your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your folds. "Brace yourself, love. I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, you'll forget your own name. All you'll know is the feeling of me splitting you open on my dick."

With that promise, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke.

“Ouuu, you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband!” You moan out feeling his dick stretch you deliciously open.

A deep, masculine chuckle rumbles through his chest as he hilts himself fully inside your tight, slick heat. "Mmmm, I should hope so, darling. After all, I'm here to replace him in every way possible."

He starts to move, setting a hard, fast pace as he pounds into you relentlessly. The freezer door rattles with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen. "That's right, take it all. Every inch of my dick stretching this greedy little cunt.” Terrance grunts, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. "Gonna ruin you for anyone else. By the time I'm done, you won't even remember what your husband felt like."

“Lift me on the counter.”

Without missing a beat, he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you the few steps to the kitchen counter. He sets you down on the cool marble surface, never breaking their intimate connection. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. "There's a good girl," he praises huskily, running his hands up your thighs to grip your hips. "Now I can really give it to you properly." He starts to thrust again, this new position allowing him to plunge even deeper into your welcoming heat. He sets a punishing pace, the counter creaking beneath you with the force of his movements. Leaning down, he captures one of your bouncing breasts in his mouth, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive peak.

"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible,"

“Your tip is poking my fucking cervix! fuckkkkk, give it to me like this! fuck this creamy sloppy pussy!” You scream out as waves of ecstasy overpower you.

Spurred on by your wanton cries, Terrance redoubles his efforts, slamming into you with wild abandon. The obscene squelch of your soaked pussy fills the air as he pistons in and out, stirring up your insides with his thick cock. "Yes, that's it! Take it, you filthy slut!" he snarls, his hips slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. "This is what you needed, isn't it? To be used like the desperate fucktoy you are!"

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat. He attacks the column of your neck with bites and sucks, determined to mark you as his. "Gonna flood this pussy with my cum." He pants harshly against your skin.

“Please don’t cum in me! I'm ovulating and I don't want to be pregnant with another man’s baby!!”

You get down on your knees and sandwich his dick between your tits. “Nut on my titties.”

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden change in demeanor, but they quickly darken with renewed lust as you present your ample bosom to him. A low groan escapes his lips as you envelop his sensitive shaft in your soft, pillowy flesh. "Fuck, baby, the things you do to me," he rasps, his hands coming up to squeeze and knead your breasts around his cock. "Such a naughty girl, offering these gorgeous tits like a cheap whore."

He starts to thrust shallowly between your cleavage, the slick slide of your skin against his aching flesh sending sparks of pleasure racing down his spine. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingers. "You want my cum, do you? Want me to paint these perfect tits white?" *

“Yes, Daddy.”

With a feral growl, he grips your shoulders, holding you steady as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. His cock slides rapidly between your slick breasts, the swollen head peeking out with each thrust before disappearing back into your valley of soft flesh. "That's it, milk my cock with these magnificent tits," he groans, his breathing growing ragged as his climax approaches. "Gonna cover you in my seed, mark you as mine..."

The muscles in his abdomen tense and flex as he chases his release. With a final, powerful thrust, Terrance throws his head back and roars his pleasure. Thick ropes of pearly cum erupt from his twitching cock, splattering across your collarbone and breasts. He milks himself through the intense orgasm, ensuring every last drop decorates your heaving cleavage.

As the last spurts of his release paint your skin, he collapses forward slightly, bracing his hands on the counter beside you. He's panting heavily, his muscular chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck, that was... intense," he murmurs, his voice rough with spent passion. "You're full of surprises, aren't you, darling?"

Reaching out, he swipes a finger through the cooling semen coating your breasts, gathering some of his release. He brings it to your lips, painting them with his essence in a blatant display of possession. "I think this proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that we have chemistry, don't you?"

“Mhmm.”

His smirk widens into a full-blown grin at your eager acceptance of his offering. He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks in a low, seductive murmur. "And this is only the beginning, my sweet. I plan to explore every inch of this stunning body, uncover all your deepest, darkest desires," his hand trails down your side, coming to rest on the curve of your hip possessively, "and fulfill them in ways you've never experienced before."

He pulls back slightly, his blue-hazel eyes boring into yours with intense desire and something darker, more primal. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. By the time I'm done, you'll be addicted to my touch, craving my cock like a drug."

His hand slides around to grip your ass, giving the plush flesh a firm squeeze as he presses his hips forward, letting you feel his already rehardening length nestling between your bodies.

"But first, why don't we continue this somewhere more comfortable, hmm?" he suggests with a wicked glint in his eye. "The bedroom perhaps? I want to lay you out on silk sheets and worship every curve and hollow until you're writhing and begging for me."

Terrance leans in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire and promise of future pleasures into the heated embrace. When he finally breaks away, you're both left breathless and aching for more.

"What do you say, love? Ready to see just how many times I can make you scream my name tonight?"

With a triumphant growl, he scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his broad chest. He carries you swiftly towards the bedroom, his long strides eating up the distance. As he enters the dimly lit room, he kicks the door shut behind him with his heel.

Gently, almost reverently, he lays you down on the plush king-sized bed. The silky sheets whisper against your bare skin as he settles his larger frame over you, his weight deliciously heavy and solid.

"Beautiful," he murmurs appreciatively, drinking in the sight of your naked body sprawled out before him like an offering. "A goddess made flesh, and she's all mine."

He starts a slow exploration of your curves, his calloused hands mapping every dip and swell.

His touch is electric, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever his fingers trail. He cups the heavy weight of your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebble under his ministrations. Leaning down, he captures one rosy peak between his teeth, biting gently before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Mm, you taste divine," he purrs against your skin, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. "I could feast on these perfect tits for hours."

One hand drifts lower, skimming over the plane of your stomach to come to rest at the junction of your thighs. He parts your folds with skilled fingers, groaning at the wet heat he finds there.

"Soaked already, and I've barely touched you," he marvels, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Well you did just fuck me.” You giggle.

He chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddeningly slow circles around your sensitive bud.

"Aye, I did indeed. But a quick tumble in the kitchen was merely an appetizer, darling," he murmurs, his accent thickening with arousal. "Now, I intend to savor my main course."

To emphasize his point, Terrance sinks two long fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping core, pumping them slowly as his palm grinds against your clit. "So tight and wet, like your greedy little cunt was made for my dick."

He curls his fingers just right, stroking along that special spot inside you as his thumb increases its pressure on your throbbing clit

He works his fingers skillfully, alternating between deep thrusts and teasing strokes along your inner walls. His other hand maps the curves of your body, squeezing and caressing every inch of exposed skin. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers of pleasure.

"That's it, let me hear those beautiful sounds," he encourages huskily when he breaks the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down the column of your throat. "Don't hold back, love. I want the whole neighborhood to know who makes you feel this good."

He scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you open as he prepares you for his thick length. The obscene squelch of your arousal fills the room, mixing with the slap of skin on skin and your escalating cries of ecstasy.

With a final, hard thrust of his fingers, he withdraws them from your sopping cunt. Bringing his glistening digits to his mouth, he makes a show of licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as he savors your essence.

"Delicious," he purrs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "But I think it's time for the real thing, don't you?"

Positioning himself between your spread thighs, he grips the base of his thick, pulsing cock. He notches the swollen head at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of penetration.

"Beg for it.” He commands, his tone brooking no argument. "Let me hear how much you need my cock stretching this greedy hole. Only then will I give you what you crave."

He waits with barely restrained patience, his muscles coiled tight as he resists the urge to simply take what he wants. His cock throbs insistently against your entrance, the heat of it searing your sensitive flesh even without breaching you fully.

“Come now, love, don't be shy.” He coaxes, his voice a dark, tempting purr. “I know you want it, I can practically feel the desperation radiating off you in waves. So tell me- tell me exactly what you need.”

One large hand comes up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to remind you of his strength, his dominance. The other grips your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he continues his relentless tease. “Beg for my cock like the needy little slut you are.”

“Please put it in me!”

With a triumphant growl, he slams his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. Your slick walls stretch obscenely around his thick girth, fluttering and clenching as they struggle to accommodate his size.

"Fuck, so bloody tight!" he snarls, his face contorted in pleasure-pain as your scorching heat engulfs him. "Like this cunt was made to milk my cock dry."

He sets a brutal pace from the start, pounding into you with animalistic fervor. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, punctuated by your wanton moans and his guttural grunts. Terrance’s hands roam your body possessively, gripping and kneading every curve within reach.

"That's it, take it all like a good little wife,"

“I'm your wife! I'm your wife!”

His eyes flash with primal satisfaction at your declaration, a feral grin spreading across his face.

"Yes, you are," he snarls, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips. "My wife, my woman, my everything. This cunt belongs to me now, understand? No one else gets to have you like this ever again."

He leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders your mouth. One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. He attacks the sensitive skin with bites and sucks, determined to mark you as his.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he promises darkly, his voice rough with lust and possession.

“This is so wrong, i should crave my husband’s dick but yours feels so much better!” You admit.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours as he hilts inside you.

“Wrong? Nay, love, this is exactly as it should be.” He argues, his accent thicker than ever with arousal. “Your husband could never satisfy you like I can. Could never worship this divine body the way it deserves.”

He pulls back until only the tip remains inside, then slams forward again, setting a punishing rhythm. “Feel how perfectly we fit together? How your greedy cunt sucks me in, begging for more? That's because we were made for each other.”

Leaning down, he laves his tongue over one stiff nipple before drawing it into his mouth

“I'm creaming so much! Tell me how pretty my pussy looks baby!”

He groans around your nipple, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He releases the sensitive bud with a lewd pop, admiring how it glistens with his saliva.

“Your pussy is absolutely breathtaking, darling”, he praises huskily, his eyes dark with lust as he gazes down at where you're joined. “So pretty, rosy, and swollen, stretched so deliciously around my cock... It's like something out of a filthy dream.”

He reaches down to where you're connected, gathering some of the copious fluids leaking out around his pistoning shaft. Bringing his coated fingers to his mouth, he makes a show of licking them clean, his tongue swirling obscenely.

“Mm, and you taste divine too.”

“Gonna squirt!!”

His eyes widened with excitement at your warning, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“That's it, love, let go for me”, he urges, his voice a dark, seductive purr. “Squirt all over my cock like the dirty girl you are. Show me what a mess I make of this perfect pussy.”

He redoubles his efforts, pounding into you with wild abandon. One hand snakes between your bodies to rub tight circles over your throbbing clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Come on, my love.” He growls, his own release fast approaching judging by the tension in his muscles. “Cum for me. Now!”

“I'm squirting!” As your release gushes out, the force is enough to push his dick out of you.

As your release crashes over you, your pussy clamps down rhythmically, spasming around his thick shaft. The force of your squirting orgasm proves too much, and with a wet pop, his cock slips free of your convulsing hole. A gush of clear fluid splashes against his abdomen and thighs, painting his skin with evidence of your intense climax.

"Bloody hell, look at you!" He exclaims, his voice a mix of awe and raw lust as he watches your nectar gush out of your twitching cunt. “Squirting so hard, making such a mess... You're absolutely stunning like this."

He quickly lines himself back up, rubbing the swollen head of his cock through your slippery folds, coating himself in your juices. “Mm, but we're far from done, love.”

With a grunt of satisfaction, he pushes back inside your still-spasming channel, groaning at the slick heat enveloping him once more. He starts thrusting again immediately, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper spots inside you with each powerful snap of his hips.

"That's it, take it all." He pants, sweat beading on his brow from the exertion. "This pussy was made to milk my cock. Gonna fill you up so full of my cum, you'll be dripping for days."

One hand slides up to wrap around your throat again, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. The other grips your hip hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, using the leverage to pull you onto his pistoning shaft.

"You're mine now. My wife, my lover, my personal fucktoy."

“You're gonna get me pregnant!!” You wail out.

Terrance eyes flash with a manic gleam at your words, a feral grin splitting his face. He pounds into you even harder, the obscene slap of flesh on flesh filling the room.

“Pregnant? Oh, I certainly hope so”, he growls, his accent thickening with dark desire. “Imagine it, love - my seed taking root deep in this fertile womb, creating new life. You'd swell with my child, everyone knowing you belong to me completely.”

He leans down to nip sharply at your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he whispers. “Wouldn't that be delicious? Carrying the proof of our twisted union for all to see?”

His thrusts become erratic, his heavy balls tightening as his peak approaches.

“I’m gonna get pregnant with a baby that’s not my husband’s!”

A shudder runs through his body at your scandalous declaration, his control finally snapping. With a roar of triumph, he hilts himself inside you one last time, his cock pulsing as he begins to empty his heavy load directly into your unprotected womb.

“Yes, yes, FUCK! Take it all, you wanton harlot!” He snarls, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every last drop takes root. “Gonna pump you so full of my seed, knock you up with my child!”

Terrance’s hips jerk erratically as he rides out the intense waves of his climax, painting your insides white with his potent release. Through it all, his grip on your throat remains firm, forcing you to meet his wild, ecstatic gaze.

“Look at you.”

Panting heavily, a look of smug satisfaction on his face as he continues to slowly rock into your stuffed hole, prolonging both your pleasure. “Taking my cum so well, like your body was made for it. And it was, wasn't it? Made to carry my offspring, to be bred and claimed by me.”

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, all tongues and teeth as he pours his passion into it. When he finally pulls back, there's a dangerous glint in his eye.

“I hope you enjoyed that, my dear wife, because this is only the beginning”, he murmurs darkly. From now on, this sweet cunt belongs to me. I'll use it whenever and however I please, fill it with my seed as often as I want.

He rolls off of you, pulling your limp, satisfied body flush against his chest. One large hand possessively cups your lower belly, right where his potent seed is already starting to take hold.

“Rest now, my love.” He croons, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead. “You've been such a good girl, taking your breeding so well. But don't think for a moment that this means we're done.”

His voice drops to a low, conspiratorial whisper as he nuzzles into your neck. “Oh no, I plan to keep you thoroughly used and filled with my essence for the foreseeable future. By the time I'm through with you, everyone will know exactly who you belong to.”

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow, his strong arms wrapped securely around you, a sudden realization hits you. In your lust-addled state, you hadn't given much thought to the consequences of your actions. Now, as the haze of orgasms starts to lift, panic begins to set in.

“Oh God, what have I done?” You whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. “I've cheated on my husband, possibly gotten myself pregnant with another man's child... There's no coming back from this.”

Terrance seems to sense your inner turmoil, his hand stroking soothingly over your stomach. “Shh, easy now, love”, he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

He shifts to prop himself up on one elbow, his blue-hazel eyes searching your face with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His expression is soft, almost tender, but there's an underlying current of possessiveness that can't be denied.

“What you've done, my darling Dallas, is embrace your true desires”, he says softly, his accent wrapping around the words like velvet. “You've chosen passion, pleasure, and the chance at a real connection over a loveless marriage to a man who doesn't truly appreciate you.”

He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip in a gesture that's equal parts comforting and threatening. “I know it may seem daunting now, but trust me when I say this is for the best.”

His fingers trail down from your cheek to wrap loosely around your throat, not squeezing, but serving as a reminder of his dominance.

“You're mine now, baby. My woman, my wife in every way that matters”, he declares, his voice low and fervent. “I'll give you everything you've ever wanted - passion, pleasure, a family. We'll build a life together, just the two of us.”

He leans in close, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks. “Your old life is over. This is your fresh start, your chance at happiness. All you need to do is embrace it fully and let go of any lingering doubts or guilt.”

@writingsbytee @theereinawrites @theereina @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @nayaesworld @megamindsecretlair

[dilf-docs]

Champagne Symphony, Caviar Dreams

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: you keep finding harry in these events. how long until someone gives in?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 1,815 words

side note: hi hello thank u for ur support my citizens!!!!!!! i hope you enjoy this random update even if the fandom is currently in shambles bc of tlou 2 and joel miller sexy old man with glasses atm,, just hi i'm the problem it's me late to the function as per usual. ps. if u want to be added to the taglist just lmk :) <3

part: prev | masterlist | next

The click of black shoes against wooden floors startles you.

"A White Russian, for the lady"

Before you get to ask, the waiter is gone. Rachel arches and eyebrow.

"If this was a bar, I'd be flattered. Right now, I'm just confused"

Your eyes search his in the bustling room, only to find him already staring.

You scoff. "That makes us two, then"

You raise your glass, wearing a daring smile. Drink for over ten seconds, holding his gaze across the room. If he wanted to play, so be it; didn't matter it was your father's birthday.

His eyes shine, amused. Harry Castillo likes to think he knows when a woman is looking for trouble. The faintest of a smile tugs at his lips when you lick yours. He's coming over. You're up to no good when you stare up, saying his name like a pebble on your shoe.

"I hope I guessed it right" it's what he says instead.

You finish what's left in one gulp. "Nothing too special about it"

He grimaces.

"Hello, Harry"

"Hello, Rachel" but he doesn't even bother to look her way, so unlike his manners.

"Dance with me"

As sudden as the shiver that runs down the spine. Rachel gives you a quizzical look when you turn her way for support.

"Alright"

The music is soft, an instrumental. Your dad hired an orquestra to play, the mellow sound of music filling the room he had rented, in the outskirts of the city. Annabelle wanted a DJ, said it was more modern. But your dad was always a classical man, and that was her way of calling him old, one of many. At least, she was older than you.

He guides you, hand on your back.

Somewhere along the sway, your steps get lost in the spaces between the chords of the violin.

"Why?"

You liked knowing. Answers.

"Because the music is nice" yet Harry preferred the unspoken of your relationship, if you could call it that. Strangers who knew too much about the other. Who revelled in the others' falter. Like a contest to win; you've yet decided the prize. "Don't you think?"

"My father likes nice"

Harry smirks.

"Cheers to David" he gives you a little spin, word reduced to a blur. It's just you and him, "and nice things"

You feel his body irradiate heat. Close proximity suffocating.

"We can't have nice things"

Harry shakes his head, something akin to disappointment circling in his brown eyes.

"Only if you allow yourself to"

Rage bubbles up your throat like champagne. This isn't like your father, who makes you feel small. Harry Castillo makes you feel seen, and that's worst.

He steps forward and you step back at the sound of the music.

"What do you want?"

His grip in your hands tightens, and then he drops you, but his hand on your back stays firm. It's like this with him: always on edge but never quite falling. Head centimeters above the floor, hair brushing the wooden floors; almost crushing.

You lose yourself in the white of his smile.

"To dance"

He pulls you up, face so close to yours. A faint smell of whiskey ghosts his breath.

"I think we're talking about different things"

He smiles, sadly so. He too pulls back, and you hate that small voice in your head that misses the proximity.

"You have yet to understand we aren't"

Anger rises again. You let go of his hands.

"Do you think it's funny to go around confusing people?" you spit.

He looks at you, stern gaze as the music stops.

"I've been clear since the first day"

People clap and the music resumes, but all you hear is the beat of your heart, ringing in your ears.

He leaves first.

Harry doesn't know when it started, but he knows the moment he knew.

You were late, sat next to him: with your long hair and tight black dress. Narrowed eyes as sharp as your fresh manicure. Judgmental. Appalled. Fresh out of law school, as David said.

It was during his fourth. Lasted less than a year; Harry can't remember her name.

He heard your venomous spit at his side: I hate weddings. Doesn't know if you were talking to him but listened.

How could he not? It was clear, in the way you reminded everyone what kind of lawyer you were. Jokes too rough, clipped laughs yet you didn't falter. Too obvious, refusal to be pictured in the family portrait when David married Annabelle the next winter.

But Harry too saw when you followed the bride with your gaze, something raw, not practiced nor learnt, imprisioned behind a neutral expression in your eyes.

It was summer when the wedding happened but Harry was drawn to your cold. The way you had mastered the common art to shove down any emotion, because to feel was to be human.

And to be human was to be weak. You loathed being weak.

Which is why, when you turned to him and mumbled a polite Excuse me to walk out during your father's vows, he understood.

There were dying stars in the dark scope of your eyes, begging to be pulled out of their slow death, pulsing with the same moribund sound of your heart. Hiding behind the sharp comfort of knowing no one would notice. A latent desire to be seen betraying the arm's length drive to keep people away.

Harry was one of those people. The type to notice the quiet breaths of the world that reminded of the painful experience it was to be alive.

And in that moment, he knew there was more to the carefully crafted you.

It was easy then, to figure you. To unravel the mystery of the one he had made to be impossible to decode.

You drank and mingled with the crowd, but each sip seemed labored, like you'd wish for it to be poison and kill you. You were focused, loved your career, but when the noise of the court died down, all that was left was mourning, even if he couldn't quite place your grief. You were all disdain and apathy, but hidden among your clipped conversations was the ravenous desire for attention.

Behind every fake smile and mascara layers, Harry saw the corners of your mouth twitch and the tired eyes.

It was there: the little girl he met, hiding behind mother's legs as if you took a step forward, the world would swallow you.

She was gone, and you had changed your approach: now you were to eat the world as revenge.

You could lie to everyone, yourself even, but Harry knew.

He wasn't a patient man, yet for you? He could wait.

Wait until you let him in. Until you take the hand he's been extending your way, hoping you'd take the leap and jump.

"Should I always chase for you?" Harry jokes after finding you. "Either you love running away or have a thing for balconies"

"Nobody obligues you" you turn to face him.

Harry couldn't voice out loud nor explain the pull he felt towards you. Like magnets. Moth to a flame; things meant to happen. Things that are unavoidable. Or just how easy it was to fall into your orbit. You were a black hole sun: burning and consuming.

"You dipped"

You dipped my head so close to the floor I thought I was falling. Dipped after making my skin feel like a burden and not the one I live in.

He's taken back by your barely concealed reproach.

"Would've you want me to stay?"

Life is a game, and you hate how he's the only one who makes you lose.

You scoff. "Bet that's what you would've wanted"

"You still haven't answered"

You rub your nose. "Is it so important for you that I do?"

For the first time, he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm not here to please you"

He smirks. "Do you ever aim to please anyone but yourself?"

"Are you calling me egotistical?"

"I'm not one to throw stones" he shrugs, then makes his way towards you.

"That's all I feel you do"

He let's his body rest against the marble of today's selected balcony.

"Are you accusing me of being disparaging?"

"I guess we're just throwing big words around" you laugh, dryly.

Harry exhales loudly. "Do you want me to go?"

Stay.

"It's fine" you shrug, nonchalant.

Some minutes fly by, the soft orchestral music from inside the only sound to be heard in the aphony.

"How long do you think this'll last?"

He turns to you, but before he asks for clarification, you're speaking again:

"Dad and Annabelle"

"You shouldn't be betting on your old man" he berates, but there's no bite in his words.

"It always ends"

He doesn't like the finality in your tone. Like you knew it all.

"At least you'll never run out of'a job"

"You're not going to correct me?" you snort at his attempt to humor you. "Tell me that love is real or some shit?"

Harry gives you a knowing smirk.

"Has it ever worked before?"

You don't quite smile, but your lips press together.

The music comes to a stop, people clapping and then a microphone turning on. It's your father's voice.

"Guess it's coming to an end"

Now it's his turn to speak. "Like everything else"

You're about to walk inside when he speaks.

"What about our dance?"

Your turn around. A soft breeze passes by.

"What?"

He gives you a half smile. "It hasn't finished"

Harry extends his hand towards you, waiting for you to take it.

"Shall we?"

You don't have the answer, but when the warmth of his hand covers your freezing smaller ones, you feel you've chosen the right one.

His steps are measured, each brush of your fingers and lingering touch deliberate. You lose yourself in the quiet of the night, the symphony of his heartbeat intertwined with yours, alike to that connection that holds your hands together.

"This is nice"

Outloud. You don't realize it's been you who has said it until he stops dancing, lips parted as he looks at you.

"Y/n-"

The brittle vulnerability is fleeting, like the laughs at your father's drunken speech. It comes and goes, the sound drowning each time you look at his eyes.

All words are futile devices. You're the one who knows such thing best.

"Don't"

Don't speak.

Don't ruin this.

Don't make me think of questions I'm too afraid to hear the answers.

"Okay" he coincides. "We won't"

We won't talk.

We won't ruin this.

We won't think about what this is and what it means.

But all the forbidden is lost when his touch and perfume stay in your skin even as you sink down on your lavender sheets and the feeling of knowing something you hadn't before remains.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell (comment if u wanna be tagged!)

[ivystoryweaver]

Hello amazing writer-person.

May I request the following…

"i cannot stand you, and yet i also cannot stand to be away from you."

… with our moody baby Marc Spector 🌙

(Congrats on the 500, you rock) 🎉

TY & ILY! 💜 (not me finally finishing my oldest request)

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

�� ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Content: f!reader, action, violence, smut, Marc is a cheeky bastard because let him have fun sometimes

Word Count: 1.5k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"Give me your hand." Moon Knight's white, bandaged arm reached for yours, but your stubbornness alone stopped you as you wrenched yourself free of his grasp.

"I don't need you to hold my hand," you told him, peering over the building's edge to the street below, several stories down. "I'm gonna jump."

"The hell you are," he protested, yanking on your arm. "Hold on to me. I'll get you down."

Although he wasn't tall for a superhero, he was strong enough to make a point.

"You can't even fly. How are you supposedly going to 'get me down'?"

Luminous white orbs fixed on you as he cinched you close to his side. "It's a full moon. Try not to scream...at least not until I get your pants off."

You couldn't see his face but you were certain he was smirking.

He leapt over the side of the building, dragging you with him. Despite how much you wanted to resist his help, you couldn't fly, and you didn't want to die, so you held on tightly, tucking yourself into him - arms wound around him trustingly and your face pressed into the gauzey fabric covering his throat.

He smelled like ancient secrets and sun drenched sands. Warm and woody, enticing your eyes closed as you entrusted your life to his embrace.

The wind in his cape, the power of the full moon and his years of experience helped him slow your shared descent through the night sky. Hitting the pavement with an inconsequential thud, you barely had time to get your footing before he grabbed your hand again. "Let's go."

"I think I can take it from here, Lunar Legionnaire." You mockingly tossed out one of his recent media nicknames, wrenching your hand away from his, but following his lead to an abandoned warehouse.

"In here," he directed. "Those things are still following us. They have our scent."

"Then we better not stay here," you reasoned. "Unless the great Fist of Khonshu needs to catch his breath?"

"Hilarious." White eyes narrowed into judgmental slits. "You're the one panting, sweetheart." He moved in closer. "Or were you that excited to be close to me?"

Before you could smart off, you heard a metallic rattle and then a growl. Jackals. Supernatural, invisible jackals.

But he could see them.

"Get behind me," he ordered.

Which of course you did not, shouldering right past him. "Thanks for the ride down, but I work alone."

He groaned, squeezing his wrapped hands into fists. After bouncing on his toes for a moment, he reluctantly followed. "Got your six."

His gaze fell to the sway of your leather clad hips, down over your curves.

"That's an interesting way of letting me know you're staring at my ass."

"That's an interesting way of pretending we haven't worked four missions together."

"Look who's counting," you teased.

"Counting on this being the last one, maybe. You have a death wish or something. I'm always saving your - "

Moon Knight didn't even finish his sentence before you whirled around and leapt in his direction, firing your wrist rockets into the jackal right behind him. He ducked just in time.

And that sound drew the rest of them.

"Nice work," he groaned, racing past you, breaking into a sprint as he called back over the swish of his cape, "It's gonna be a long night."

“Hey, you’re the one following me.”

The two of you spent the next annoying half hour eliminating invisible foes, working in tandem, despite you both maintaining your loner status, at least mentally.

You finally ducked into an alley, grateful for a breather.

"Are there any more of them?" You gasped, gripping your knees as you doubled over, winded from your exertion.

"Not that I see," Moon Knight answered, giving you a once over. He didn't get as tired as you, but then again, you didn't have superpowers. It felt kind of endearing to see you not perfectly put together.

"You know, you look good like this," he commented, moving into your personal space. "Sweating. Panting. I feel like I've seen it somewhere."

He tapped his gloved finger on his masked chin, pretending to think. "Was it the last time I saved your ass?"

As badly as you wanted to retort, you were still a bit out of breath.

"Oh I remember," he went on, yanking a crescent dagger from the center of his chest. He backed you up against the wall, pinning you in place with his hips. "It was the last time you were underneath me...in Dubai."

"Bullshit. I was on top," you panted, eyes fixed on his weapon, feeling wetness pool between your legs as he pressed his obvious erection against your core. "What's that for?"

He traced the pointed dagger's edge over your bottom lip before flicking his wrist, expertly cutting through the thick fabric of your mask. Before he could pull it free and reveal your face, you struggled against him as your hand darted up to keep your mask in place.

"What the hell?" You snapped, even though you physically responded eagerly to the friction between your bodies. "No faces. That was your rule."

"Don't you ever break the rules?" He challenged, stashing his dagger and gripping your hips. Thrusting against you with a seductive pulse, he dragged you back and forth over his straining length.

"Show me yours first," you ordered, still holding your mask in place with one hand. Strangely enough, this man had been inside you twice, but you had yet to lay eyes on who he really was.

Without hesitation, he complied. His gauzey mask disappeared, revealing a man far more handsome than you expected. Dark, soulful eyes peered into yours, such a beautiful contrast to the haunting white glow.

You stared as his gaze flickered down to your parted lips.

"That bad, huh?" He half joked, quickly summoning the supernatural fabric to cover his angular features once more.

You swallowed thickly, the thought of sinking your fingers into his dark curls convincing you to slowly lower your mask, pulling it free from your face and hair.

Tilting his head, as if studying you, Moon Knight shook his head playfully. "The magic is gone."

You slugged him on the arm as he chuckled, amused with himself.

"I can't stand you."

His mask disappeared again, instantly. "I can't stand to be away from you."

His lips crashed into yours with unrestrained fervor, the force of it taking what little breath you'd regained.

You sighed into his mouth as his tongue slid over yours. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you twisted your way through his curls, which were every bit as gorgeous and soft as you expected.

"Can you make a useful part of this damn suit disappear?" You huffed, tearing your mouth from his.

Yanking at the leather of your pants, he worked you free, hoisting your thick thighs around his waist. Then, as you were anticipating, just enough of his suit vanished so that he could push his heavy, pulsing length up inside you.

"Been waiting for this all night."

“That’s an interesting way of saying you’re obsessed with me.” Despite your biting commentary, you sank against him in relief, your head thumping against the brick wall behind you, its rough surface scraping against the curve of your ass. But you didn't care. He was your drug and you were getting your fix.

"Look at me," he lowly commanded, gripping the nape of your neck and staring possessively into your eyes. Heavy, deep thrusts sent your body bucking against his. "Like that?"

"Yes, right there. Feels good."

"Thought you worked alone, sweetheart." His lips curled as your eyes flashed with defiance. "You think you can get yourself off like this?"

You shuddered, your velvet walls fluttering, clenching at the sound of his infuriating voice.

"Nah...I think we work better together.”

"Just...shut up. Keep doing that. Faster."

He went slower. But deeper, hitting something devastating within you.

"Saving your ass from jackals is worth the look on your face when you come for me."

And as if his voice alone could control your body, you came undone, your body betraying your stubborn mind, agreeing with him. And, as predicted, you might have screamed a little.

The glint in his eye didn't last long as you shuddered around him, gripping him so deliciously that he actually moaned. It sounded so good coming out of his plush lips. His clenched, corded neck tensed and bobbed as sweat dripped from a singular curl.

The sight of him losing control because of you was worth a bout with jackals and all the danger that came with it.

His hips stuttered as he tried to pull out of you, but you clamped your thighs around him and held him captive. "Stay right here."

The longer you gazed at him, the more you wanted to never see that stupid white mummy mask cover his face, ever again.

Hot breath fell on your ear as he took a minute to come back to himself.

Easing back, he touched his forehead to yours - a gentle contrast to the scandalous public encounter you'd shared.

"I'm Marc."

You felt lighter somehow, sharing a laugh with him before he kissed you deeply.

"Nice to meet you."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Marc Spector-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[bleedingichorhearts]

Hello! I see asks are open!

May I please request a Yandere!Salamander from Space Marine Husbandry Sentience? Trying so hard to be a gentlemen and polite, and not ravage his sweet treasure (yet, needs to wait until his courting gift is ready and his darling accepts...), loving their bonded being independent and working to support them, even though he could take care of and protect them...

He's trying so hard not to be too covetous (failing). Trying so hard not to be jealous of the baselines who get to spend hours of the (work)day with his treasure, of people who get her attention. But it's okay because she likes him best, loves him, chooses him, and comes home eager to see him and fall into his arms and sink into his warmth and protection.

Salamanders are like dragons, but they're not unreasonable... most of the time. Just let him protect and support you, and show him a little affection... a little love and appreciation. That's all.

(Love you're writing it's so cool and fun! The Custodes Series is my favourite so far!)

"Awww! This is such a cute request! Salamanders are most definitely like dragons but just with a cuddly, protective factor. I just image a big ol' fluffy drake that got the hair dryer, lol. I didn't put summary as your words are absolute. As for "the golden knights?" I'm glad that I'm doing well with it! I always worry that I didn’t put emotion in anything." - Ichor

Tagged - "@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000.”

TW: Cuteness Aggression? Yandere, A Very Tiny Smidge of Smut Thoughts.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

The Salamander thumbs at the forged courting gift in his hands. His eyes looking over every single detail on it, making sure it was absolutely perfect for you. That every single detail on it was to tell a tale to those who could decipher what was on it, and most importantly to impress you. His little treasure.

He has been incredibly careful with you, not wanting to scare you away from him that maybe differ your view of him. Your “snuggly dragon.” An affectionate term he knows, and it makes his heart’s feeling like they were wrapped up in flames like a dragon inhaling; only keeping their fire in their chest, never releasing it upon his foes.

Ah. His fingers stop briefly on stroking the gift, his head lifting up and looking out the darkening skies of your nest. His mind briefly wondering when you would be back. His “foes.”

He would consider the other baselines that work with you, and that dare to come over into your nest a type of foe. He isn’t quite sure on what type of foe as he is conflicted with his thoughts about it while their some that are rather kind and light up your day when he should be doing that. There are some that get too close to his comfort and he just wishes to engulf you in his arms, never see those baselines again. Yet, there are some that keep their respective distance, and others? “Introverts,” a term he keeps forgetting to grab a description from the Apothecary.

Despite all that, he loves how independent you are, even if he wants to take care of you himself. He would prefer it that way, but you insist that you need something to live by, and honestly? Wasn't he enough? Was he not something to live by? If he didn't know any better, he would have stolen you from the get-go. Yet, something in the back of his genetically kind mind told him to go slow and steady with you. Not only that, but he has heard that he would have a better chance of a healthy bond to bloom with you by taking his time.

He sighs, keeping his gaze out of the window. A certain dread filling up his nerves as you were coming back home later than usual. It a rare thing honestly for you to come back late as one time he freaked out. Scouring your whole workplace to find you, snatching you up before hissing at the boss who dares to keep you to their greedy cooperate hands! He would like to remove them and offer them to A Night Lord, but with how you snuggled up to him immediately... it calmed his thoughts. His chest giving you a rumbling purr to put you at ease while he takes you back to your nest.

He loves it when you are all cuddly with him. He is all for it as it means more attention on him. It means more time with you, more time to rub his scent all over you, and coo lovingly in your ear when you coo and pet him back. These little affections of yours always putting those... dark thoughts in the back of his mind for just a moment.

Grumbles start to leave him after a while though, and if he had a tail? It would be twitching with irritation. His eyes flickering around the main part of your nest: the bedroom before looking back out the window. Hoping that if he pretended to look away you would just suddenly appear. Of course, that doesn't really work. Maybe with video games when they are loading.

An inhumane hiss rumbles through his chest when he suddenly gets up and off from sitting on your bed. His hands quickly hiding the courting gift for you in the highest shelf in your closet as he quickly turns away and out into the hallway. He always had a bit of a short temper when you were gone away from too long than what you have told him, and if he had it his way? That corporate would be burned to the ground like the Xenos that he purged with his own flame. Taking your time away from him should be sinful of those who greed!

Great, now he was thinking like a Word Bearer....

He huffs when he reaches the front door, absolutely ready to swing it open, maybe pop it off if hinges before he pauses. His head tilting slightly while a soft click sounded out, and a faint but fresh scent of you seeping behind the door.

"I'm hom- Gah!"

You don't even get your greeting words out as you're practically bodied by your Salamander that has most definitely gotten growly and huffy at your lateness. Your feet dangling while your carried away from the door. Irritated chuffs and gruffs' leaving your Salamander.

"Hey now," You laugh, patting his chest lightly as he snuggles you close all while walking back to your bedroom. "I'm only... 5 minutes late, give me some slack."

"Too long." He growls lowly, placing himself down onto your bed with a slight bounce like a huffy child before stuffing you in his chest. "Need you here, with me."

"Clingy, you are." You laugh again, happily snuggling into him after the long workday. Your hands wrapping around his torso as much as you can. Only getting about halfway, but the simple actions make your Salamander purr. Though, it sounds restricted, as if he really didn't want to amuse you. "You going to play that game? Fine."

He gives a rumble in response, lowering himself a little as you lean away from him in his lap. A bit of a mischievous glint in his eyes. He knows what he's playing, and he wants to absorb everything you would give him. Especially since your 5 minutes late.

"Greedy thing." You tease, lifting your hand up to cradle his jawline that he nuzzles into your palm for. His purr slowly becoming louder. Your other hand moving from his torso to gently scritch at his neck, going up and down slowly. Your eyes seeing a little shiver going through him, and you smile. "You're lucky I love you."

His body seems to freeze for a moment before he leans down more to nuzzle his nose against your neck. His back going to kill him for the awkward position, but he doesn't care for it. He cares for you, and your sweet, adoring words. His lips giving a twitch; just itching to just mark you right there as you let him nuzzle against you with another laugh escaping your lips.

"Sweet little treasure..." He purrs into you, his teeth beginning to itch at how he could just... mark you as his, right now. So vulnerable. Underneath him... crying out his name...

"Little?" You scoff, faking offence. Pulling away from him. "I'll have you know I am average size-!"

He simply turns, sort of manhandling you to snuggle you down into your own bed with him onto of you and you on the bottom. His head resting on your stomach with the weight of him pinning you down into your own bed.

"Really?" You deadpan, placing your hand on-top of his head.

He coos sweetly in response, nuzzling into you.

[nahoney22]

Hello, me again!

Can I please get 20 from your Enemies to Loves list with Fives?

Foes to Friends 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Fives X Female Reader

word count: 1k

prompt:

"I think we're friends now," / "Dank Farrik, don't say that,"

You thought war was stressful but it appeared to be nothing compared to your rivalry with the Arc Trooper that is Fives. But, how do you feel when he saves your life without thinking of the consequences?

warnings: Mentions of War, Near Death Experience, Platonic Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Female Reader but could be read as GN, Fives gets injured, Separatist’s Enemies.

sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy @sleepycreativewriter 🩵

The blaster fire illuminated the darkened corridor of the starship, casting flickering shadows on the cold, metallic walls. Fives and yourself, both hunched behind a crate, exchanging a quick, tense glance.

For as long as you had known him, the two of you had always butted heads. Supposedly it was down to both of your stubbornness and fierce determination that caused endless clashes during missions and today was no different.

After getting separated from Rex and the rest of the squadron, it was just you and Fives stranded together and things were getting hairy.

"Stick to the plan," Fives muttered, his eyes scanning the hallway for movement.

"I am sticking to the plan," You retorted , peering over the edge of the crate. "If you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

Fives shot you a look that said he doubted your abilities, but he said nothing more. Both of you knew that now was not the time for arguments. The Separatists had taken control of the ship, and it was detrimental that you both needed to get to the control room to shut down their systems.

Moving swiftly, your blasters cut through the droids that stood in the way. As you reached a narrow passage, the floor began to shake violently. Your heart began to race as the shaking was then followed by an explosion which echoed through the ship, and suddenly, the ceiling began to collapse.

It happened quickly but without thinking, Fives grabbed at your arm and pulled you out of harm's way, saving you from being crushed into a pancake.

You pant, shaking your hands as nerves and exhilaration flow through you at your close call. "Thanks," you mumble begrudgingly, not exactly used to showing gratitude towards him.

"Just doing my job," Fives replied, though there was a hint of something softer in his tone. It made you pause and think for a moment, watching him but focused back on the task ahead.

Continuing your advance, the tension between you both felt to be easing. Even if it’s only slightly. He had your back covered and you had his

But things went from bad to worse as you both approached the control room where you fell into an ambush of separatist droids. “We’re out numbered, Fives!” You cry out, shooting and dodging at every chance you get, exhaustion getting the better of you. Just when you thought one wave was down, you were drowned by another and another and another.

"Get to the control room!" Fives shouted over the blaster fire. "I'll hold them off!"

"Are you insane? You'll get killed!" You yelled back, heart pounding. No way you were going to let him do this.

"Just go!" he insisted, physically pushing you towards the door. You meet his gaze, wide and horrified whilst his eyes, usually so full of defiance, now held a desperate determination.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting him to face the droids alone but then remembered you had to consider everyone else on the ship too. “Fives…”

“What are you waiting for? Go! Leave me!”

A wave of emotions hit you and knowing you had to do this, you turned and sprinted towards the control room. Entering, you curse to yourself as all you could hear and somehow focus on was Fives' blaster firing rapidly behind you. But you had to focus.

Quickly, you began shutting down the systems, fingers flying over the controls like you had done hundreds of times in training. Your mind is running wild and just as you finished, a blaster bolt whizzed past your head. You spin around, ready to meet your fate as you hadn’t even had time to react quick enough to grab your blaster. Heart stopping and your eyes closing waiting for the inevitable and you can only wish you had done all you could for the others but before you could even process anything, Fives was there.

His blaster takes out the droid in a single shot before he leans on the doorframe in agony. He was bleeding and looked exhausted, but he had made it.

You had never been so happy to see him. You rush to his side, looking over his injuries. “Crap, you’re pretty beaten up there.” You sigh and he can only mumble a response which sounded a lot like ‘no shit’ which you couldn’t help but chuckle at.

"You didn't have to come back for me," you say softly, voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t understand it but your throat tightened with emotion.

He meets your gaze, "Couldn't let you have all the glory," he replied with a weak smile. "Besides, someone has to keep you out of trouble."

You rolled your eyes, how very typical of Fives.

Letting him drape an arm over your shoulder, you helped him up and together made your way back to the escape pods after getting the all clear from Rex.

Fives however was clearly struggling, every step he took made him wince. The sight of his pain made your chest ache with a new, unsettling feeling. You came to the realisation with a pang that you cared for him. He had saved your life twice and in all the times you had bickered, you had not recognised how much you valued him until you almost lost him.

As you sat in the cramped pod, waiting for the ship to be out of range, you looked at Fives, seeing him in a new light. The lines of tension around his eyes, the stubborn set of his jaw, all seemed painfully familiar now… it was like looking into a mirror. How could you not see that you both argued because you were both so similar?

"I think we're friends now," you say quietly, trying to lighten the silence.

"Dank Farrik, don't say that," Fives groaned, though there was no malice in his words, only exhaustion and you even saw the flicker of a smile on his lips.

You giggled softly, leaning back and closing your eyes. "Admit it, you care about me."

"Maybe," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Just because we're similar doesn't mean we can't be allies."

“Friends, Fives.” You reiterate, “We’re friends.”

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[digiflora]

╭┄────────── 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 ┆ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. gepard 〆 wc. 0.7k

art creds. mucithy on twt 〆 contains. allusions to injury/death, a big ole amount of comfort

gia's notes. going 2 for 2 with this new theme + my essay is now due in 4 hours teehee 🧘🏻‍♀️ i drank a STRONG coffee and my guts are gonna blow up i fear

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 hello! could i request gepard comforting his gf who had a nightmare, please? thank you! ❞

IT'S THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE CALLING HIS NAME THAT ROUSES GEPARD, a melodic siren's song that pulls him from his depths of unconsciousness in the dead of night. he's groggy, sure, his brow furrowing and a complacent whine leaving his lips as he curls into you even further than he was before, but he's still responsive to your every beck and call.

"mm, what is it baby?" he mumbles into your skin, sleep-addled brain trailing soft kisses after his words. he doesn't hear any response from you, which was odd, odd enough to make him lift his head up from the crook of your neck to properly look at you. well, as best as he could in your dark bedroom.

your own eyes are shut, a slight sheen to your forehead, and for a lack of better words you looked troubled.

despite being unconscious, you seemed fairly lucid, twitching and frowning as you slept before stuttering out another call of your boyfriend's name.

and it's now that he blinks himself awake, realising a little too late for his liking that your sweet voice calling his name had a fearful edge to it, one that was shown in all of your actuons as you shook your head vehemently.

and gepard's torn now, distressed and wide awake at the sight of your discomfort, but not sure if you would want him to shake you awake- but with another pained cry of his name his heart tugs at him and his rough fingers are brushing against the skin of your shoulder as gently as he can as he begs you to wake up just above a trembling whisper.

it takes him a few times to get you to come to your senses, but when your eyes finally open to see the concern in his crystalline ones and his concerned face hovering over you, you can only let out a strangled sob and throw yourself into his chest.

he immediately wraps his arms around you, strong and warm and solid against you as your tears run hot against your face, dripping into his shirt that you'll have to apologise for later. you vaguely recognise his hands stroking over your hair, his hushed reassurances that everything's okay and that it was just a dream.

you don't know how long it takes for you to calm down, but when your muffled sobs finally become a staccato sniffle, only then does gepard ask you "do you want to talk about it?" there's a brief recount in your head of all the awful things your subconscious had presented you with, of gepard, your lover, the captain of the silvermane guards, having to fight a most fearsome foe in front of you and become overpowered before he-

you shake your head to rid yourself of the gruesome thought, burrowing impossibly closer into your boyfriend's chest. he reciprocates your actions, curling himself around you further, letting your legs slip between his. he presses kisses to your hairline, cooing again about how much he loves you and that he's here and you're safe.

"it just all felt so real," you finally manage to croak out. "i could see you and- it all happened so fast and i couldn't do anything and it-" a hiccupy sob interrupted you, and gepard didn't speak, merely clutching you to his body even tighter than possible, almost protectively.

"hey, i'm right here darling. and i promise that i don't die so easily. have some faith in me, i'm not exactly weak." you smile despite yourself, nodding against him slowly, feeling a puff of air escape him at your ginger acceptance of hos attempt to lighten the mood.

"i just... i don't know what i would do without you." gepard pauses his hand's careful trail against your hair, the heartfelt sentiment stopping him dead in his tracks.

"... then that's just another reason for me to make it back home every day, no?" your eyes are still leaking the occasional tear, though you suspect that they are no longer caused by the remnants of your nightmare as you laugh, before pressing a deep kiss to gepard's lips.

"i love you."

"and i love you too. always."

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... bound 2 fall in love!

[teamrocketmemes]

EPIC: The Musical - The Ithaca Saga

This is a sentence starter from EPIC: The Musical’s: The Ithaca Saga. 

THE CHALLENGE

“I'm supposed to choose a suitor to wear the crown.”

“I unthread all the work I've done.”

“Cause I'd rather lie.”

“Though I never thought I would resort to this.”

“But I don't know how much longer I'll last.”

“Oh, could it be some kind of sign.”

“Is it finally time for the challenge I arranged?”

“Just know I'll be here buying you time.”

“Time to be the man of the house.”

“And rule with me as his queen.”

“Once you know that your aim is true.”

“Cause I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you.”

HOLD THEM DOWN

“Whoever can string the old king's bow.”

“Where is the man who can string this bow?”

“None of us can string this, we don't have the power.”

“Can't you guys see we're being played?”

“Hold us down while the boy gets bolder.”

“Where in the hell is our pride and our rage?”

“Here and now, burn it down to ashes.”

“Channel the fire inside your soul.”

“Don't you know the prince is not around.”

“Then, when he docks his ship, we can breach it.”

“Hold him down while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones.”

“Only the ocean and I will know.”

“And when the deed is done.”

“I will not let any part go to waste.”

ODYSSEUS

“For twenty years I've suffered every punishment and pain.”

“I come back and find my palace desecrated.”

“I... have had.... enough...”

“Somewhere in the shadows lurks an agile, deadly foe…”

“We have the advantage. We've the numbers and the might.”

“He's using the darkness to hide his approaches!”

“You don't think I know my own palace?”

“You've destroyed the serpent's head.”

“Old king, forgive us instead.”

“After seeing what the king will do to us.”

“But trust me, I've come prepared.”

“Brothers, come and arm yourselves.”

“We can still defeat the king if we all attack the prince!”

“Capture him, he's our greatest chance!”

“Mercy? MERCY?!”

“It died to bring me home.”

“My family's fate is left unknown.”

“You planned to RAPE MY WIFE!”

“ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!!”

“You filled my heart with hate.”

“All of you who've done me wrong.”

“THIS WILL BE YOUR FATE!”

I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER

“All my life, I'd have died to meet you.”

“For twenty years, I'd dreamt of how I'd greet you.”

“Oh, and now you're here.”

“For so long I've felt alone.”

“Oh my boy, the sweetest joy I've known.”

“Used to say I'd make the storm clouds cry for you.”

“Held you in my arms prepared to die for you.”

“You were never one for hellos.”

“If we all held each other with a bit more empath.”

“What if there's a world where we don't have to live this way?”

“It's one I'll have to miss.”

“There's a girl I have to see.”

WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH ME AGAIN

“Is it really you standing there?”

“Your eyes look tired.”

“Is it really you, my love?”

“I am not the man you fell in love with.”

“I am not the man you once adored.”

“I am not your kind and gentle husband.”

“And I am not the love you knew before.”

“Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?”

“Would you love me all the same?”

“I know that you've been waiting.”

“What kinds of things did you do?”

“Left a trail of red on every island.”

“As I traded friends like objects I could use.”

“Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands.”

“But all of that was to bring me back to you.”

“If that's true, could you do me a favor?”

“See that wedding bed?”

“I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat.”

“A symbol of my love everlasting”

“Do you realize what you have asked me?”

“The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!”

“So I guess that makes him you!”

“I will fall in love with you.”

“I don’t care how, where, or when.”

“No matter how long it’s been you’re mine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not the same person.”

“I love you…”

[tackytigerfic]

Hello dear writer ! I am reading along First Watch of Night and absolutely loving it ! I was wondering about what the title mean or refers to ? Perhaps it is because english is not my first language but it is a mystery to me ahah

Thank you <3

Hello, lovely Anon! This is such an interesting question, thank you.

The title of this fic eluded me for so long. It never had one, in all the years I was writing, and even up until just before I was ready to post, I still hadn't hit on the right one. I usually just *know* when I find the right title, and it wasn't coming to me.

Some early notes I made are: Fierce as Electricity/ A Waste of Breath/ Sunward/ High Flight/ Golden Hour/ Upon Your Wrist/ Not Keeping Still (On the Move) (i was reading A LOT of thom gunn haha).

One idea we came up with in the group chat, which I still really love, was to describe the timespan of the fic in the title. So it's around eleven months in total, so it would have been something like 331 Days of Arrowless Time (because there's a theory that in the multiverse time is arrowless ie it doesn't move in one particular direction, linearly). I still think that is an excellent title but I have such a bad memory for titles and I knew I'd get it muddled along the way somewhere.

Anyway then i started reading a lot of war poetry, and was coming up with some i liked but again weren't right (What is Sunk/ Faces to the Foe/ Small Ways/ An Inward Sword). And then @sweet-s0rr0w started sending me links to poems she thought fit the vibe and one of the first was The Light of Stars by Longfellow, which I actually knew but hadn't considered as it was written before the period I was leaning into.

Within my breast there is no light

But the cold light of stars;

I give the first watch of the night

To the red planet Mars. 

It felt very good vibes-wise: to me, it's about resolution and strength through adversity. I also loved how he describes the qualities of warriors as "Serene, and resolute, and still/ And calm, and self-possessed" (Mars being the god of war in Ancient Roman mythology, thus uniting another special interest of mine) - it's the opposite of how I imagined my Harry lmao. Such bangers as "Know how sublime a thing it is/ To suffer and be strong" sealed the deal. In this fic, the characters are fighting a literal war, but they're also fighting against themselves, to be who they want to be, and both Harry and Draco tend to be hard on themselves, and deny themselves what they want in favour of what they think they deserve. Suffering and being strong is their default setting - in this fic, I look at how they can move beyond that. And despite the Longfellow poem asking "Is it the tender star of love? The star of love and dreams? O no!" - my fic is obviously about love, and the realisation of desires, and I liked the undercutting of the theme.

The first watch is also a military term - being on watch means you're on a specific duty for a set time. First watch I believe runs in the evening up to midnight? So it's quite symbolic, being on the alert into the dark of night, and doing your duty and so on. It felt apt for a fic about a war. And of course, this is a fic about time... so the word watch can have a double meaning 😆

All in all, the title is one I'm really happy with now I've decided to go with it - it's easy for me to remember and captures the mood I wanted.

Here's a link to a beautiful reading of the poem as part of the Poetry Out Loud series. And here's a link to the fic lol: First Watch of Night.

[the-remainder]

Hello fellow dunnish, Ze here. I've changed the "title" of our devlogs yet again. I suppose that's a form of development, that things have changed, for better or worse. I've taken to call it "tangents", because that seems to be what I write in these things: A few factoids that probably doesn't mean a whole lot to anyone, and a bunch of anecdotes and off-the-cuff remarks that don't necessarily mean more, but at least one of us have fun with!(That's me, btw)

1. Kickstarter progress I spent most of my days packing prints and Nim spent most of theirs cutting them while listening to creepy stories about national parks. Did you know there are supposed to be staircases that go nowhere out in the wilderness? Foodprints that aren't identifiable? Things that scratch at the side of your tent, whispers to you in the voice of your loved one whom you know is miles and miles away from where you are? Yeah, national parks are basically the twilight zone, according to podcasts. Becareful out there, nature-loving friend.

2. Writing Nim wrote and published their first novella! It's a weird mix of romance, horror and erotica. You ever wonder what would happen if you were acosted by a fae in the woods, then decided to follow them and have a wild shag or two? Nothing we can call "good", I assure you. But then again, who wants good? We want interesting. And that's what Many Winters' Briar gets you, an interesting encounter with a fae in the woods. It's completely unlike the Remainder, no one lost their memories, no high magick and tall towers. No world-ending rituals or magick talking cats. Just a cozy time with someone not quite human in a hut who likes berries and pain.

3. The Longing All we did for the longing recently was I THOUGHT about working on it, or rather I felt the urge to work on it squirm quietly in my marrows. That's typical of my process with these things. First the urge squirms in the marrows, then it migrates into the hemoglobin and courses through my veins, then some energetic buildup occurs in the fibres and tissue, then at last the fingers gnarl and twitch and work appears. Yesterday I actually opened up the draft and LOOKED at it. I expect any day now I will be swimming in The Longing again. Watch out for updates; watch along the shoreline for my drenched and cackling form.

4. Agnil's Design I began editing a short story I wrote for Ilar's Teatime stories ages ago, which was a tiny little thing about a magus college student sort of person who had some friction with her mother regarding personal hygiene. Whole thing was about 1 chapter-long if it were a book, and featured 1 character. I know, it sounds incredibly germain, but it's what occurred to me at the time. As I rewrote it, I kept feeling the story was supposed to be about more, and so I nudged it into a slightly different direction just to see what happens. A week later I'm four chapters into what I can only imagine would have to be a novel. Ilar, Vyn, and a few other semi-fleshed out characters were already aching to make appearances. And the threads of the Taldun lore came flowing in from all corners of the realm, and it keeps building. I still have no idea where it goes yet, but sink me it is fun to write. I expect I'll be teasing some of it on our socials soon. It's called Agnil's Design.

5. Other games I also started building another game, just for me, just for fun. It's going to be a rogue-like deck-builder, or as I call it, "body"-builder, where you do some dungeon crawling and collect the body-parts of defeated foe to build your character. I'm making it for no other reason than that I desperately want to play this game and it doesn't exist.

6. Social We are going to dole out bits and pieces of lore, character snippets, new-and-old art, and other enticing stuff over here in the coming weeks. Kindly glue your eyeballs to the bluesky, please. PLEASE, we need the numbers. XD https://bsky.app/profile/the-nim.bsky.social

There, that was less tangential than it could've been, but more tangential than most, I imagine. Big success?

Oh right, if you want to see these images in high res, and a few more sketches, as well as a sample paragraph from Many Winters' Briar and Agnil's Design, head on over to our ko-fi and patreon members section. Your support will help enable us to persevere in our wickedness. You have our infernal gratitude.

[skyfallscotland]

Hello, I'm currently reading Fear & Flame, and I love it. Remi is amazing as a character. However something has been eating at me: I wondered how tall is Remi in cm and feet (I use cm) ? While reading I came across two passages indicating her height: "Our short stature and frailty almost matches each other (I have half a foot on her)" in chap 1, and again "I'm half a foot taller than her" in chap 9. I was confused because half a foot is quite a lot (15 cm / 6 inch). So if Violet was 1m57 (5f2), then Remi would be 1m72 (5f8), which is quite tall (and quite a difference in size). However the text say she is similar in her short stature. I am stuck on whether to imagine her as short or tall (and an answer to that burning question would appease my mind ;p !). Sorry if it come of as finicky, your fic is amazing, it’s just that that detail stuck in the back of my mind while reading and I couldn't get past it (my brain, my dearest foe). I finally gathered my courage to ask ! Thank you for sharing with us such an amazing and raw story :)

HAHA I'm so sorry, this made me laugh so much

Ummm I just don't get the ft system, I'm a metric girlie, so I just threw half a foot out there thinking it was like...a lil bit? 💀 I'm picturing like a forehead taller?? in my head?? 😭😂 So idk maybe it's a quarter of a foot?

TBH Violet's height isn't really that 'short' in my opinion? She's 5'2 right? The average height for women is 161 / 5'3, which is a whopping 3cm taller, so??

This really has me thinking because if the Empyrean world's average height is the same as ours, I really don’t think Violet’s that short compared to everyone else like she’s made out to be? She’s a tiny bit below average and Xaden is just huge????

So I guess um, Remi's in between short and average? 😅

This hurt my brain a little, anon. Glad you like Remi 🖤

[firstelevens]

hello! 11. not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd + sambucky, if you like! (canonverse, AU.. happy to read about any of them☺️)

11. not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd

The trouble with memory loss as extensive as Bucky's is that he doesn't know whether he should attribute his adaptability to being repeatedly frozen and defrosted over the course of an entire century, or if that trait wholly belongs to the person who he used to be. In either case, it's too sad to think about for too long, but it's something he's relieved to have on days like this.

When Thor had literally crashed into a fight between Team Cap and their fourth alien weapon-wielding foe in a month, Bucky had assumed that it would be a simple handover, Earth Avengers to Space Avengers, and they could call it a day. Instead, he'd offered to fly Sam up to outer space so he could chase up his investigation, and there was no way that Bucky was leaving Sam alone to do intel gathering on an unknown, possibly hostile planet.

It takes a few hours' worth of hyperspace travel to get them to Empyrean-5. At first, Sam had teased Bucky for staring wide-eyed out of the viewports, but then he'd stayed there, too, watching as they closed in on a planet that seemed to emit a multi-colored glow into the darkness surrounding it.

Before they dock on the planet, Thor takes a video call from a vaguely familiar green lady in some kind of red uniform. She looks relieved when she hears that Thor won't be the one actually investigating on-planet, and she must be pretty well connected, because soon they're kitted out better for this mission than most Thunderbolts missions, and Val is a literal countess.

Bucky can't deny the slight giddiness he feels as the ship slowly descends towards the landing port--all those comic books and pulps that he read as a kid, and now he's literally in outer space--but he sees Sam fiddling with the translating bracelet that they were both given and realizes that Sam's fidgeting might not be the excited kind.

He bumps his shoulder against Sam's as they descend. "Are you up for this mission, Cap?" he asks. "You sure you'll be as charming in space as you are on Earth?"

Sam snorts, shaking his head, and Bucky is inordinately pleased to watch his jaw relax. "Aw, Buck. You think I'm charming? I'm blushing."

"I think you think you're charming," grumbles Bucky, like he knows he's supposed to, but when Sam grins at him, he can't help but return it.

"Be honest," says Sam, nudging him back. "How badly did baby Bucky want to visit outer space?"

Bucky feels his face get warm, but Sam is looking at him with bright, interested eyes, and he's only human. "If I'd known it was an option? That I just had to be a scientist to do it? No one would've ever had to tell me to study again. I'd have been at the library every day. Would've dragged Steve there, too."

"Yeah, and then Steve would've started a fight and you would've gotten kicked out on day one," says Sam. "This way, you get to see space and no one's revoking your library card."

"Which is good, because I've got about a dozen holds coming in this week, and half of them are yours," says Bucky. "What would you do if you couldn't mooch off my library card, huh?"

"The Brooklyn Public Library just has a better selection, okay? It's not my fault the DC library system finally shut down my card."

"It's a little bit your fault," says Bucky. "You haven't lived there in more than a decade."

Sam grumbles something that Bucky can't quite make out over the sound of the ship, and he tries not to laugh.

"So what's our plan here? That Gamora lady said the auction wouldn't be for another couple hours. You want to scope out the building first or walk around a little to get a lay of the land?"

"Neither," says Sam.

"Sam, how many times to I have to explain that 'no plan' doesn't count as a plan?"

"For your own satisfaction, I'm sure it'll be another four dozen at least," says Sam. "And I didn't say we have no plan. I said I didn't have one of those plans."

"Fine," Bucky says, crossing his arms. "What's your plan, then?"

"We're gonna play tourists," says Sam, and points out the viewport just as they pass through a thick cover of clouds to approach a glittering city, half sun-soaked, half in starlight. The nighttime half is dotted with neon signs and brightly lit buildings, blurring lights on what must be vehicles zooming past them. "I feel like this place gets a lot of those."

"Oh, plenty," says Thor, and Bucky just barely stops himself from startling. For a god of thunder, he's surprisingly quiet when he wants to be. "Empyrean-5 is the sector's most popular honeymoon destination."

"Pretty good place for an intergalactic black market auction," murmurs Sam, and Bucky is inclined to agree. There are no regulars to remember anyone's faces, and any tourists who might see something suspect will be too distracted by whoever they arrived with to care.

The ship gently docks at the spaceship equivalent of a harbor, and through the viewport, Bucky can see bustling streets and tall buildings, dramatic mountains silhouetted in the distance against a pink and orange sky.

Thor moves back to the cockpit to open the doors, and Sam turns to Bucky. "You sure you're gonna be cut out for this kind of undercover work?"

Bucky narrows his eyes.

"What?" laughs Sam. "I'm just saying, there's a lot of authentically excited tourists out there. I think we're really going to have to commit here: see as many sights as possible, take a bunch of pictures, buy some stupid souvenirs. We have to make it believable."

There's no use fighting the goofy smile that wants to spread across his face. Bucky accepted a long time ago that being around Sam Wilson was going to make him feel this way. "So you're saying that for the sake of the mission, I have to see as much of this planet as possible?"

Sam nods, as gravely as he can with a grin on his face. "It's a non-negotiable."

"Then I guess I can't say no," says Bucky. On an impulse, as the doors open and the gangway unfolds, he reaches out and grabs Sam's hand. When Sam looks from Bucky to their joined hands and back, eyebrows raised, Bucky just shrugs, gesturing to the tourists milling around the harbor-side stalls. "Don't want to lose you."

It can't be more than two seconds before Sam reacts, but it feels like a small eternity to Bucky. Then Sam's hand shifts in Bucky's like he's trying to pull away, and there are already apologies at the tip of his tongue, but it turns out that he doesn't need them: Sam just moves his hand to interlace their fingers, giving Bucky's hand a squeeze.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, and when he starts down the gangway and into the crowd, all Bucky can do is follow.

[howlingday]

Ruby: Good morning, sleepyhead~.

Jaune: (Stirs) Ruby? (Smiles) You're here... Finally...

Ruby: (Strokes his cheek) I missed you, Vomit Boy.

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

Jaune: (Chuckles) Are you even listening to me?

Ruby: Hm?

Jaune: About this weekend?

Ruby: Oh! Right! Menagerie! Sounds great!

Jaune: I'll see about getting a boat. Maybe we can start our vacation early below deck, huh~? Heck, if it's nice enough, we might not ever leave! Sound good~?

Ruby: Oh, I can't wait to try the kinds of food they have our there! (Bites into dinner) Mm! But... it's not gonna be as good as what you make.

Jaune: You like it? I grew the tomatoes myself and the cheese is made from a local dairy.

Ruby: You even baked cookies!

Jaune: Yup! From an old, family recipe~.

Ruby: Oh? Care to tell me more~?

Ruby: (Scroll rings) I'll get it! (Answers) Hello?

Ruby: ...Hellooo~? ...Hello?

???: (Via scroll) You can tell so much about a woman by what she lets into her body.

???: Some people will eat a balanced diet. Others, I hear, only consume plant matter. However, we shouldn't ignore those who choose to ear only animal products.

???: WHAT KIND OF WOMAN ARE YOU, ROSE?

Ruby: Who is this?!

???: In case you're wondering, I would say "None of the above". (Chuckles) Because I am far above any mortal woman. I only have the juiciest of human meat for my bread, just like I only have the juiciest of human meat for my bed~.

Jaune: (Puts blade to Ruby's throat)

Salem: (Cackles) FAREWELL!

Jaune: Ruby... What's taking so long? Weren't we eating? SIT DOWN.

Ruby: ...Oops! Crap... Jaune, let's go ahead and book that cruise. Now. Before THEY show up.

Jaune: (Sheathes blade) You're right. We sh- Oh! Looks like a storm is coming...

Ruby: You have no idea.

Yang: (Via text) THEY'RE COMIN RUBES

Ruby: Guess it's too late for that cruise, huh?

Jaune: NO! NOOOOOO! (Stumbles, Falls) RUBY! HEEELP! (Shifts)

Ruby: (Catches him) Here we go again...

My name is Ruby Rose. I'm a Huntress, and I kill Grimm. Destiny has brought me to fall in love with the Queen of Grimm's consort. Her monstrous hordes won't stop coming to take him. But I gave my word that I'd slaughter every last one, all of them, no matter their size, until he belongs to only me. I'll fight every Kingdom if it means killing these foes who threaten my happiness. The happiness and love I still see in his eyes. And because...

I LOVE KILLING FUCKING GRIMM

[dilf-docs]

Foul Promises, Forbidden Games

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: finally, harry and you seem to have found temporary truce. a small step. but what it's not, if a big dangerous leap?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 1,840 words

side note: hi hello thank u for ur support my citizens!!!!!!! new spot just dropped a few days ago UGH i'm so excited for this movie can't wait to meet our smitten billionare istg if he gets dumped for cevans' poor ass but in celine god song we trust,, NOW brat summer is over it's time for dilf summer and pedro pascal is the star!

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Come in"

The door opens, and the familiar click of shoes and wooden musk invades the place. You don't dare pronounce his name.

"This office is for married people only"

He chuckles at your dry tone. Petty even.

"Thought you were allergic to 'em"

"I am, but they bring money to the table"

"Thought it was your daddy's" he's quick to retort.

You try to keep neutral, your view busy on the same file you've had open since he entered the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not offended by the trust-fund baby calling" you reply, nonchalant. He takes a sit without you allowing it, that stupid soft smile on his face while crossing his legs. You finally look at him. "What do you want, Harry?"

Because, why was he, the last person you'd like to see, inside your office on a weekday, let alone, almost at closing hours?

"I want a truce"

His words fall into the silence of your office, partly iluminated by the moonlight. It isn't your worst wednesday night but it sure deserves a spot on the list.

You arch an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware we were at war"

"With you, honey" he leans in closer, his shadow hovering over your desk, "there's always a fight"

"Then why take the trouble to come?"

"See what I mean?" he's quick to smile like he knows something you don't. "Anyway, I came because it's urgent. Wouldn't, otherwise"

"Huh. I've heard that before"

Harry stands up, looking at your condecorated wall, seemingly impressed by the papers hanging inside frames, a testament to your intelligence.

"Well?"

"Do you know why people come to you?" he asks, still facing the wall.

"Because I'm the best"

He turns around, smiling in amusement. "So humble, aren't you?"

"I take you didn't come to compliment me. Tell me, Mr. Castillo, why is it you're here?"

Harry faces you. "Drop the formalities, we're not strangers"

"I don't know you"

It's sharp, but he doesn't flinch.

"You could if you wanted to"

Your heart picks up a faster beat. It's starting again, like the two times before, this new off-putting feeling you hate and can't stop.

"You came here for bussiness, I pressume. Not comradeship, Harry"

To talk with you is to wrestle with a seething tongue.

"We can always have tea or a nice dinner other day. I know this pasta place downtown; I'm friend's with the owner" at your narrowed eyes and lack of response, he clears his throat and continues. "Alright, not the talker. I'll go straight to the point"

"Finally"

He contains the urge to roll his eyes.

"Nevermind. You do talk the talk" he sighs. "But I'm here for a favor"

Now it's your turn to sigh. "Could've said that first. Time's money and you've wasted me enough. This is a law firn, not a charity"

His lips quirk into a smirk. "I don't want your alms. Just you"

Two simple words shouldn't affect you this much.

"Besides, haven't you got plenty?" he continues, tone joking, at your lack of response.

"It's never enough"

His eyes shine with an inexplicable anticipation.

"I can always try"

You cross your arms, leaning against your leather chair. Maybe he won't notice the slight tremble to them.

"You said you needed me"

"Precisely" Harry seems content. "Now we're talking"

"Speak"

"So bossy" you roll your eyes. "Do you know Paul Lauder?"

"If you're rich and leave in New York, it's impossible you haven't"

"He's a friend of mine" he offers.

You scoff. "Would be weird if he wasn't"

"I don't have as many friends as you think I do"

"Who you befriend isn't my problem. Or what I think isn't yours" Harry looks about to correct you, but you don't allow him. You place your elbows on your desk, assesing, in that pose he thinks you use to intimidate. You ressemble a hunter, ready to bounce over it's prey. It sends shivers down his spine, despite mantaining his natural facade. "Continue"

"I need your help"

You grin like a cat. "If you need my help, as you say, and they only way I can help you is the only way I know, you could've sent an e-mail"

"But that's the problem" he smiles, albeit a bit sad. "He doesn't want to get a divorce"

His shoulders slump, face frowned and a serious glint over his eyes that makes him look like he carries the world's whole weight within them. You're taken back by how used you're to his usual happy and confident self. For a moment, you think you want to do everything in your power to make him smile again. The treacherous thought is pushed down as quick as it came.

"Then why are you here?" you ask, this time curious above anything else. "I thought you believed in marriage"

He doesn't take your little bait. "No. I believe in love"

You push back a smile. "Right, how could I be so dumb?"

"You're not, which is why I came to you. Do you think I would put up with your charming personality for nothing? There are tons of other divorce lawyers out there"

"Yet here you are" you interrupt, harsh.

"Yet here I am" he repeats, softly.

"Harry..."

"I know this is sudden, and I know it's late. That you don't care for me, or my friend"

"I don't"

His gaze turns hard for a second, maybe as a warning, expecting less judging and more sympathy.

"Don't expect anything from me"

"I don't expect you to understand what you don't know, y/n" he replies, tone patient yet condescending. "But know this: love tends to bring the strongest down"

"Love" you savour the word, rolling off your tongue like a snake who seethes. "You speak a lot about it. Tell me, Harry, have you ever been in love?"

A pin could drop and be heard.

"I think you'll know when I do"

You decide to serve yourself some coffee, and when the cup spills, filled to the brim with shaky movements, he doesn't say anything. You don't offer him a cup either.

"Listen, I pride myself in reading people. Wonder how I ever got so far in this industry? I know what people want, and that's the key. The rest is sweet talk and paper. So, when I tell you it took me less than two seconds to figure her, I'm serious. Paul may have married this girl out of love, but she obviously hasn't. As Lauder is charmed by her heart, she's by the numbers of his bank account"

A true player, you think cynically.

"You expect me to fill sorry for the poor filthy rich?" you tilt your head, the annoyance palpable.

"That's funny coming from you"

The roughness of his tone surprises you. You don't reply anything.

"He's self-made"

"And I'm supposed to assign bonus pity points for that?" you find your voice again.

He rolls his eyes, composed demeanor faltering a bit. You smile, delighted.

"I wouldn't want all his hard work to go to waste for a fairy tale he's deluded himself with"

"Now you're speaking my language"

"Don't confuse yourself. True love is still out there" he counters.

"You're a believer, Harry. I'm still deciding if that's heroic or stupid"

"You may think I'm being selfish, but I know my friend. This isn't Paul. He's gone in her cold smile he perceives as warm, and his pockets keeps emptying as his love into the place her heart is supposed to be, but he's just pouring worship into a hollow pit with a hole in the bottom that leaks with indifference. Apathy. Aversion even" he makes a pause, seemingly pained by just recalling. "I believe love makes you grow, so does devotion. But devotion isn't servitude. Surrendering, in flesh and bone, to another soul isn't the same as losing yourself"

"Poetic" you drop with a bitter tone. Almost humiliating.

He shrugs, not affected. "I'm not a poet, just a friend who wants to help"

"By seeking out a divorce" you reply, entertained.

"No" sharp. "I'm helping my good friend before he makes the biggest mistake of his life"

"You will break his heart" you add, not knowing why.

"A heart only breaks once. The rest are just scratches"

You can't help but wonder about your father and mother. If he loved her; if she's the only woman he ever loved. Maybe that's why he was so fucked up now. You still remember the weeks after her departure, how he'd drunkenly call her name after shots of tears. In the following morning, he wouldn't recall, and you wouldn't tell him either. Out of empathy or pity, you don't know. He never did again after he married his second, neither when she left. Nor with the next one, and so on. His polite smile when arriving to your office to finalize each never faltered, so maybe Harry was right, at least in that. You won't give him that much credit though, let alone tell him.

You sigh. "If he doesn't want a divorce, there's nothing I can do. What I do, is the legal procedures. Not magic"

"I think you're underestimating yourself" like a nurturing father. You don't know how much you need those words, the forbidden warmth in your chest rather embarrassing. "You could change anyone's mind"

"Right. I'm not a witch"

"Pretty sure I heard a few of your employees call you Wicked Witch of the East Coast as I walked by" he smirks.

"Well, Broadway isn't that far. I'm glad you appreciate their wit" but your gaze is cold. "When you keep them close, they're pretty much the same, but I know I've got both admirers and enemies" a breath goes by. "I'm curious, though. Which are you?"

He's as surprised by your boldness as yourself. Maybe it's the late hour or the bitter adrenaline of caffeine in your veins.

"I'm whatever you want me to be" in that infuriating tone you've yet to decipher; you hate the unknown.

"Always the gentleman" you concede, icy. "Now be the one who tells me why the hell I'm supposed to help your fallen friend"

"Because I'm asking you to"

The tension could be cut with kid scissors.

"Are you paying in advance?" you ask, throat dry.

The billionare smiles.

"A true business woman. Your dad was right"

You give him a tight smile. "He mocks me"

"I don't"

He raises from his seat, an indentation in the shape of him where he just sat. More of Harry in your life, in guarded spaces previously only your own.

"Good. Do we have a deal?"

You extend your hand. When he takes it in his, something clicks.

Harry smiles. "We do"

Your hand burns as if you've just made a deal with the devil.

"Goodnight" he exits your office, voice as soft as only Harry Castillo can.

For a moment, your hand still in the air as his back loses in the dark shadows of your closed office, you can't help but think you've made the worst mistake of your life by agreeing.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell @suzysface @joelmillerpascal @ennvsco (comment if u wanna be added!)

[flowery-laser-blasts]

I guess at one point he did feel bad about how he treat Drew but since he was his daughter’s arch foe he felt he couldn’t reestablish his friendship since. Maybe he might try to make amends once Kim decides he wasn’t her enemy anymore.

I'm not entirely sure if there was a friendship to begin with nor that James considered Kim at all in this regard. It's about him. James, like Drakken, has a big ego and he is both childish as competitive. The latter two don't have to be all that bad but it adds into the whole thing.

"Well, you know, Kimmie, back when I was in college, I had a group of friends, my posse, if you will."

In the context that James starts with, yes: Drew is part of the friend group, but what dynamic/hierarchy does this friend group have? Sadly, some 'friend groups' have a person that ends up being the butt of a joke or the errand boy and I feel like Drew fits this glove.

"In those days, I wasn't exactly a ladies man."

Yeah, okay and so James relied on someone else (Drew) to do it for him. Drew might've been the one to suggest getting them dates, but none of them thought to just... Idk, come with him? Or ask more???

"Hmph. What did you expect? He cannot even come through with a date for himself."

Oh shut the fuck up Ramesh, as if you could do any better. Sure you have a right to be disappointed, but if you didn't have faith in Drew then why go through with it and wait? You could've gone out of your way to secure your own date but no.

To me, this shows that ALL of them have (and always had) no expectations of Drew because none of them defends him. No one goes against Ramesh: "Oh don't be like that, it's nice that he suggested it" or "Maybe we should've all gone with him" OR ANYTHING; They all silently agree instead. What kind of friend group is that? Sure you might have your own insecurities but it's easier to blame it on someone else right?

"Drew dropped out and we never saw him again. I don't think he ever forgave us, and in some small way, maybe we never forgave ourselves."

"For just a giggle fit?"

"No, no, Kimmie. We laughed for days. Long and loud, with youthful abandon."

This, right here, makes my blood boil. The sudden change in James' tone of voice. He goes from regret and shame to telling Kim that he made fun of a guy for days while smiling and chuckling. Could this be a nervous response? Maybe, but if that were the case I would've expected it to be delivered differently. To me this sounds like James recalled the memory fondly. In the "boys will be boys" kind of vibe, yuck. I also think that there was way more going on prior to the Bebe situation but the Bebe situation is a personal attack for Drew and the final straw because he LOVES android type of robots (he perfected Bebe and the Synthodrones after all).

"Poor Drew. Maybe if we hadn't laughed at him back then, there would be one less mad scientist running around."

Way to go sounding 'wise' at the end there. You guys were still laughing at him WHILE TWO OF THE TREE WERE CAPTURED??? HELLO??? AM I MISSING SOMETHING? HOW DO YOU PINGPONG FROM TAUNTING THE MAN TO "Alas, sadly there's nothing we can do anymore. That wicked villain is beyond helping".

You can FUCKING APOLOGISE JAMES. Show, in front of your daughter, that you've LEARNED from your mistakes and that you ARE the better man. Drakken doesn't have to accept your apology, but at the very least it shows that you have changed and matured into a better version of yourself! Your two lapdog friends surely would follow you if you made the first step.

"Maybe we never forgave ourselves" Fucking BOO-HOO James. When in this entire series did this ever happen. He's NEVER shown to have actual regrets regarding Drakken. James is too prideful for that.

Oh yeah, he did once WHEN HE WASN'T INVITED TO THE COWBOY PARTY. And the ONLY reason he was upset IS BECAUSE HE WASN'T INVITED AND THAT HURT HIS EGO.

I believe that the only reasons he says that he regrets the Drew situation is to 1. Make himself look better in front of his daughter and 2. Make Kim feel like she has to give Ron, an actual friend, a chance. Otherwise she might actually feel bad.

Last but not least:

"My teenage daughter is not afraid of you. Why should I be, Drew?"

"I hate it when you call me that! I am not the man you knew in college, Possible."

"Still can't get a date, though, I bet."

James is captured and tied up. He's still pushing Drakken's buttons. Maybe this is how he responds when he's nervous? I doubt it. James, despite his situation, probably still feels like he has the upper hand and that his daughter will save him before anything happens. Good wins over bad, right? James never had any regrets because: Drakken being a villain (that keeps on failing and losing from his teenage daughter) confirms to James that Drew Lipsky was a bad person anyway and making fun of him therefore has been excused.

Maybe I'm biased and blame James way too hard because of my own bad experience with fake friends who treated me like trash and maybe I excuse Drew too easily, because I too was overly passionate about things and had a dire, almost desperate need to belong to a clique.

I can't tell you what the average guy friend groups are like, so maybe that plays a role as well. I only know one of them (all a bunch of nerds in different geeky fields) and they seem healthy.

But like, James is an adult. He can make adult decisions. That's all I got to add to it.

[gege-wondering-around]

Not Wednesday WIP

sweet @patolemus (love your work, you're such an amazing writer) tagged me and i was working on this little thing yesterday, so i thought it'd be good to share something of it rathen then my ongoing fic

He had opened the door, holding it with one hand, trembling on the door handle, and hiding the other behind his back while his eyes were filled with tears that didn’t want to fall; he wasn’t sobbing, he was just standing still looking down at the floor. Stiles immediately got worried, what if Derek wasn’t doing so well after all?

“Baby,” he had said that day of March, “what’s wrong?”

Derek didn’t hold his gaze and Stiles went in, staring at his eyes and searching for something that could tell him what was going on, but there was nothing, nothing that he could use as an indicator. Apart from the way he kept hiding one of his arms.

Upstairs, after Stiles hugged his boyfriend and brought him to his bedroom with a tender hand holding his shaking one, the boy sat his wolf on the bed, kneeled in front of him between his legs and stared into his eyes, which couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second at the time.

He didn’t say anything, he had his hands on his knees, stroking his covered skin and took notice of how he kept hiding his arm behind his back, almost always keeping his gaze low and sometimes letting out a little whine when he moved his arm.

“Lemme see, mh?”

The question was surreal to Derek, there was nothing to see after all. His skin was fine, his boyfriend would see nothing there. So, he moved his arm away from his hiding spot and showed it to Stiles, who with pleading and caring eyes took hold of it with one hand, leaving the other to make soothing motions on his knee with his thumb.

But Stiles wasn’t blind.

Sure, there was nothing visible or tangible, skin was spotless and clothes were clean, but a little detail got away from the wolf: when Stiles touched his wrist, applying some pressure to feel his heartbeat with two fingers, it caused a little wave of discomfort to run down the wolf’s spine and there was only one reason why that happened there and not on his knees.

He looked in his eyes, blue as that drainful night, and although he knew, he didn’t say anything.

Stiles kissed his skin, leaving a few gentle, open mouthed kisses on his wrist and with his eyes, he told Derek he wasn’t alone, that it wasn’t his fault and that he didn’t deserve any punishment because he was a victim, not a culprit.

And Derek cried, because his boyfriend’s eyes were clear as day, allowing him to read everything and giving him the chance to not say a word, to not have to deal with the conversation that it would bring to.

ahhh this fic is going to either break my heart or yours, but either way, if it works it's gonna be a painful read (forgive me for it, i'm a sucker for making my readers cry... it means that i did a good enough job with the narrative that it brought to you the emotions i wanted to convey, still, forgive me again) No pressure tags @dontcallpanic (i'm addicted) @patolemus (can't ge tenough of your amazing works, forgive me) @hellameyers (it's been a while, hello my sweet foe) @hedwig221b (i'm a curious fella, i'd like to know you a bit) and everyone else who wanna join in