#I better be right I need to trust my female instinct

[boligona]

Lese grade der Puppenmacher und bin auf Seite 140/197. Bevor ich weiterlese, stelle ich eine eigene Vermutung auf, wer der wahre Täter ist und was sein Motiv ist

[SPOILER ALERT! NICHT WEITERLESEN, WENN IHR PLANT DAS BUCH SELBER ZU LESEN]

Für Pecj aus der Zukunft: Mein Verdacht liegt auf den Nachbarn von Tricia, Mr. Rice oder wie er nochmal hieß 💀 Der Mann will doch eh das ganze Land, das einzige Stück was er noch nicht hat, ist das von Tricia, die es unter keinen Umständen aufgeben will.

1. Er hat easy access zu der Scheune

2.beobachtet Tricia‘s Haus nachts durch ein Fernglas

3. ist sowieso abgefuckt, dass ihre Gäste/ihr Hund/sonst irgendwas was annähernd von ihr oder Kenneth oder sonst wem auf sein Grundstück läuft (dawg der typ ist obsessed mit seiner Schrotflinte), das Land zu kriegen gibt ihm weniger Kopfschmerzen

4. Da sowieso jeder von Johnsons Gefängnisstrafe und seinem Wohnsitz weiß, kann er auch easy an die Maispuppen kommen

5. Daher, dass er auch von Kenneth und Tricia‘s Hochzeit weiß, kann es sein, dass er a) kein Bock auf ungebetene Gäste auf seinem Grundstück hat und b) diese Tatsache ausnutzt um Streit zwischen den Verlobten auszulösen und sie zu trennen, weil Tricias Vergangenheit mit Johnson Kenneth glauben lässt, er ist für den Terror verantwortlich —> Aufbau von Krisen lässt Hochzeit verblasen und mehr Stress zwischen die beiden aufbauen —> Sie trennen sich (in Rice‘s Hoffnung), Auszug folgt und durch den emotionalen Druck und Tiefschlag kann Rice wieder das Gelände gewinnen, weil Tricia kein Bock mehr auf irgendwen und keine Nerven für einen solchen Nachbarn wie ihn hat.

Johnson eignet sich sowieso als Sündenbock durch seine Vergangenheit mit Tricia. Er hat sie über 30h in den Keller ohne sonst was eingesperrt, er hat ihr bei seiner Verhaftung gedroht, Rache zu schwören, dann taucht er früher als erwartet wieder und die Puppen mot den Gruselgesichtern erscheinen an den „Tatorten“. Was braucht man mehr, um von sich abzulenken? Es ist ein geschenktes Fressen für jemanden wie Rice

hatte noch irgendeinen Grund im Kopf aber ich hab ihn vergessen. Egal, nur Pecj in der Zukunft weiß, wer es wirklich ist und ob ich Recht behalte

-Pecj aus der Vergangenheit

[dracolilhoe]

Secret Keepers (Severus Snape x Y/n)

Pt.2 -> Secret Keepers

Severus Snape x fem!pregnant!wife!professor

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/n, mild swearing, Professor reader, mentions of mensurating

Words: +1.5k

Summary: Severus & Y/n have been secretly married for the last few years. Y/n has a hunch that something big is happening, but isn't sure if she should trust her instincts.

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

Just breathe, Y/n. Everything is perfectly fine. I say to myself as I pace around my classroom. You're freaking out over nothing. It's normal for everyone to miss their period sometimes, but two weeks? Maybe I should see Poppy just to be sure. I let out a shaky breath and made my way to the hospital wing, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridors.

"Poppy?" I call as I walk into the Hospital wing. "Hello? Oh! Y/n dear lovely to see you! Is something the matter? You seem distressed." Merlin, this is going to be awkward. "Um… I was wondering if you happened to have a pregnancy test?" Her eyebrows shoot up slightly as she stares at me. "Yes. Yes, I do. Do you need one?" "Yes. That would be great." "Alright, give me a moment." She walks over to her office to fetch the test as I rock back and forth nervously.

The clicking of the heels can be heard a few moments later as she comes back with the test in hand. "The bathroom is just over there," She points over to a door on the far end of the wing. "take all the time you need." She gives me a comforting pat on the back and a soft push forward.

After I do my business I place the test on the bathroom counter face down and wash my hands. I lean against the wall of the bathroom as I gaze at the test. I sigh heavily and rub my eyes. "It's now or never…" I mutter picking up the small stick. I look down and stare at the single pink word.

Positive

"Holy shit. Holy shit," I whisper as the test falls to the floor and my hands fly to my tear-filled eyes. "I'm gonna be a mom… I'm gonna be a mom!" A soft knocking can be heard as a soft voice calls, "Y/n… is everything alright?" I open the door and stare at the older woman in front of me. She glances at my tear-stained cheeks and the test now on the floor. She bends down, picks up the test, and her eyes widen as her mouth falls open. "Dear Merlin," she whispers, "you're pregnant!" I nod as she pulls me into a tight hug. "Congratulations!" She says excitedly as we pull away and she rubs my shoulders softly. "Thank you."

"If you don't mind me asking… who's the father?" I sigh. "Promise me you'll keep it a secret. We'd like to keep our marriage private." "Marriage!?" "Poppy! Promise me!" "Okay, okay I promise." "It's Severus." "What!?" "Keep your voice down will ya! Someone could be walking by." Poppy sighs, "Damnit, I owe Minerva and Pomona 10 galleons." "Excuse me? What do you mean you owe them galleons!?" "Um… well me, Albus, Minnie, Fillius, Hagrid, and Pomona bet on whether you and Severus would end up together. Minnie and Pomona said you would and the rest of us said you wouldn't. We were clearly wrong."

"Poppy!" A voice calls from the entrance to the hospital wing. Poppy turns around to find Minerva with a puzzled expression on her face. Minerva glances at my tear-stained face and then the test in Poppy's hand. "Y/n, are you alright?" "Never better, Minnie." Minerva walks over and takes the test from Poppy's hand. "Y/n, you're pregnant?! Who's the father? When did this happen?" "Minnie!" "What! I'm just curious!" "Okay, first off the father is Sev," she gasps and I roll my eyes, "Second, I know you guys bet on us." She laughs nervously. "No hard feelings, right?" I sigh and shake my head. "No hard feelings," she lets out a breath and laughs nervously, "But I want 20%."

"Y/nnn," she whines "Pleaseee don't do this" "Hand it over girl." I giggle as she pouts her lip but hands me some money from her pocket. "Thank you." I place the money in my back pocket as well as the test Minerva handed back to me. "When are you going to tell Severus?" Poppy asks as the three of us walk toward the entrance to the wing. My face falls slightly as I fidget with my fingers. "Probably after dinner," I whisper nervously. "Don't be nervous! Everything will be fine!" Minerva says as she pulls me into a motherly embrace. I sigh and hug her back. "Thank you, Minnie." "I should probably get going. My next class starts soon," I glance down at my watch. "I'll see you two at dinner." "Good luck, Y/n!" They say as I make my way back to my classroom.

**Dinner**

I head to the Great Hall and enter through the large doors. Walking up to the broad table at the far end of the hall taking a seat next to Severus. "Hello, love," I whisper. A smile appears on his face as he gives me a quick glance. I hear giggling and glance to my left to see Minerva and Poppy smirking at me. I roll my eyes as I place some food on my plate. "So, how was your day, Severus?" Severus gives me a confused look as he side-eyes the girls. "The usual. Gave Potter a detention this evening" I nod not really paying attention to what he is saying, "Severus, I was wondering if I could speak to you after dinner. It's urgent." His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he nods.

Once dinner is finished Severus stands up and heads towards his office. I watch him as he goes and feel my body heat up from the nerves. "So, have you told him yet?" A voice asks from behind me. I jump and let out a small squeal. "Minnie! What the bloody hell!" "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I was just curious." "No. I haven't told him yet. I'm going to go tell him right now." "Okay! Good luck, Y/n!" I nod as I stand up and begin walking to his office. "You better name it after me!" She calls. I laugh and answer back, "You wish!" A few students and staff members who are still present in the hall exchange glances with each other as they stare at me and Minerva.

I begin heading down the stairs toward the dungeons. The cold atmosphere making me shiver. I reach the door to Sev's office and softly tap my knuckles against the dark wood. "Severus?" "Enter." Says the cold monotone voice of my dear husband. I open the door leaving it slightly ajar and am met with the familiar smell of parchment and books. I glance up to see my husband sitting at his desk with a quill in hand and papers scattered on his desk. His cold eyes meet mine but soften instantly. "Hey, love. You wanted to talk about something?" I nod. He pushes his chair back and pats his lap. "Come."

I walk over and straddle him my hands moving to play with his hair. (Something he will never admit to liking out loud.) He moves his hands to draw small circles on my thighs. "Speak." "Well, I went to see Poppy this morning and-" "What? Why? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He asks as he caresses my cheek. "Sev! Let me finish," He sighs, "Go on." "To answer your question I'm perfectly fine. I just haven't um… well… I haven't gotten my period for almost three weeks. I just got worried so I went to Poppy," He raises his eyebrows slightly but doesn't interrupt. "I asked her for a test and she gave me one," I reach into my back pocket and pull out the test handing it to him.

He takes the test from my hands and turns it around to stare at the pink word against the small screen. "You're… You're pregnant?" He whispers as he looks up at me. I nod as tears fill my eyes. He pulls me into a tight hug as he kisses my head. "I can't believe it… we're gonna have a baby." I look up at his shocked face and giggle as we pull apart. "Is that why Minerva and Poppy were acting weird?" I lay my head on his shoulder. "Yeah. They both found out about us this morning. Did you know they placed a bet on us?" "They did, did they," he says as he kisses my forehead and begins running his fingers through my hair. "As much as I would love to hold you for the rest of the evening… Mr. Potter has a detention… and should be arriving soon." I sigh and get off his lap as he stands up and pulls me into his chest. "I love you, darling, I'll come see you tonight." He leans down for a loving kiss. I smile and walk over to the door as he sits back down at his desk. "Love you!" I say as I begin to make my way back to my chambers.

Unbeknownst to both of us Harry had been listening through the crack in the door and knew everything. He wouldn't tell anyone, right?

It's the bloody dungeon bat for crying out loud!

Of course, he would!

Breakfast should be interesting tomorrow…

Pt.2 -> Secret Keepers

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[obsessedwrhys]

Aesthete

(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her

c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!

ᯓ★

Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...

Abby...

She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!

Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.

With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.

Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.

There she was, doing bench presses as usual.

You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.

"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.

"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.

"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.

"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.

"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.

"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.

"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.

"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.

"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.

"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.

"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.

"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.

With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.

"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.

"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.

Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.

"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"

"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.

"Whats wrong with my aim?"

"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.

"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.

"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.

After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.

"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.

Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.

You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.

"Yes ma'am"

After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.

"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.

"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.

"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.

"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.

"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.

Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.

"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.

Why is she looking at you like that?

Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen

"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.

"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.

Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.

"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.

"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.

Fuck this woman...

"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.

Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.

"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.

You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.

Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.

Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.

"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.

"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.

"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.

"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.

"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.

"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.

"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.

"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.

"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.

"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.

"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.

"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.

"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.

You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.

"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.

"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.

"Thanks Abs"

"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.

"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.

(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)

[creepy-friday]

Just came across your blog and I ended up binge-reading everything! I'm in love with the way you write the characters, specially the Proxies. And the female Proxy is definetly my favourite👌.

How it would be if, instead of being Slender's trusted minion and already a experienced Proxy, she was a newbie and fresh meat? Kinda like Cody, younger and dragged there with little to no choice because the Operator saw potential in them. Would the dynamics change, since she doesn't have a high rank to rely on?

Maybe Brian is appointed as her mentor and he gets advantage of her inexperience by corrupting her?

I'M VERY GLAD YOU ENJOY MY BLOG💖

Creepypasta Proxies x Newbie!Female Proxy

The overbearing silence after the buzzing static faded away was bringing in a new damned life.It's been a month since you were bought here,locked in your room until The Operator decided it was enough for you to settle in

It was time for you to meet again with the masked men that dragged you here-the same killers that were supposed to be your team, "allies" even

Every resident was looking down on you,even EJ that pitied you and looked at you with mercy behind his blue mask.The first time you had to pay a visit to his clinic he even asked if you are scared because deep down,his instinct made him to enjoy it

The harassing is real,but this time it's more dangerous.Remember,you're a helpless outsider in a place full of rapists,killers and awful fantasies.Walking down dark hallways is always in a hurry,same as eating and showering.

Since Brian was assigned to your ass,you're almost totally saved and worry free next to him,but he's also a piece of shit

He sees your potential,after all, if The Operator views you as valuable-then you're most certainly priceless.

He's a gentle guy,takes his sweet sweet time to teach you everything you need to know.

Sure,he respects you,but during training sessions he will do everything in his power to get you under him,sort of helpless.

"See,it's not that hard" he breathed out as he guided your hands on the right places "if you ever happen to find yourself in this position you know what to do now,right?" he smiled in a gentle manner,slowly standing up from above you,taking you by your hand with him."Do you want to reverse the roles?"

He will defend your name even if you are in the wrong during proxy meetings.He will keep on bringing up how fucked up all of them felt when they arrived there,and this point always works.(more or less for Masky)He knows how to pull the strings when he wants to

You already know the drill,Masky is a menace to work with,especially with newbies.Don't get me wrong,he doesn't expect you to be fully prepared to know shit,he enjoys having you dumb,but he will always make you feel like shit,he will try his best to bring a pained expression to your face because it makes him feel better and he's bored of Toby

Definitely uses you as a vent chat,no restrictions for him,from inventing some fucked up story to telling you about his miserable life from before the mansion and during the present since he doesn't expect you to stay

The only time he stops is when his friend gives him the sign.It's crazy,but he respects Brian more than he cares about breaking some of your lovely bones

Toby was more than glad to know another woman "joined in",especially since you're new and vulnerable,he now has the chance to look out for someone and to be needed

Altough Toby was the most unusual individual,Cody was the one to give you the creeps most of the times.And he does it on purpose

Since he's no longer the fresh meat everyone looks down to,he feels superior that now he has you around

He wouldn't bully you or make you feel bad on purpose, but he will definitely baby you around A LOT

Kate is complicated.She doesn't talk,she doesn't look at you,she doesn't make any effort to teach nor to train you.She looks down on you,and the only time she will open her mouth is to either tell you to stop what you're doing or to answer any of your questions with a phrase so vague it will make you have even more questions

Time is precious,so don't waste it.Every hour can be spent becoming stronger,but also every hour goes by terribly slow when around every fucking corner someone is gawking their eyes at you

[lurkingshan]

"Thank you so much, I'll remember this day for the rest of my life."

It really says something about how smart and well constructed this show is that even in an episode where Jane and Ryan are firmly pushed to the background, I had a great time and absolutely loved the story they told. The arcs for Pie, Tae, and the rest of the intern cabal this episode were fantastic.

The structure of this episode was genius, because we got the fun of a caper paired hand in hand with the frustration of watching inexperienced students make deeply silly mistakes. At no point did I expect or want this caper to succeed, and when it inevitably failed I was thrilled, because that was the point! The way the show kept giving them small moments of false triumph only to immediately undercut them was so fucking funny.

Because of course that wasn't the only copy of the files, and they would have learned that immediately if they had simply fessed up. Tae had the right instinct from the start, but Pie was working through her own insecurities, Ba Mhee and Pah were living out their movie fantasies, and Ryan was too timid to do anything but go along with this goofy ass plan. I loved that all of this plotting amounted to nothing and Tae learned to rely on his seniors instead of trying to fix things on his own (a lesson they all need to learn in turn, it seems).

This theme was made even better by addressing Pie's mistake from last week. I LOVED the scene with her and Ba Mhee in the bathroom; it's good to see her recognizing where she erred and expressing some humility, and getting support from a female colleague after facing down misogyny together. And I have so much respect for the way Pie owned up to her arrogance in that meeting with Baimon and Jane. That was mature and really demonstrated her capacity for growth, as did her gratitude when she realized Jane gave her that assignment because he sees her potential and was setting her up to succeed so he could give her an even bigger project. Of course he advocated for her in private with the boss; that is the kind of mentor he is. That was a huge life lesson for Pie to trust her mentors, ask questions when she's frustrated or doesn't understand a decision, and stop assuming she knows everything, and I really believe her when she says she will never forget it. Jane has already made a huge impact on her and will shape her outlook on work going forward and throughout her career.

Ryan did not fail to notice what a great boos Jane is either, and in his small background moments this episode we saw his crush on Jane get bigger and bigger until it became a full blown infatuation (relatable). That moment when he looked directly at Jane while "translating" Pie made me gasp; we are really in it now.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Should’ve Known Better » Steve Kemp

Pairings: Steve Kemp x Female Reader

Summary: You should’ve known better than to escape from Steve.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, attempted escape, mention of cannibalism, trust issues, crying, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Steve is slowly starting to trust you and he gave you free rein of the house a month ago. You decided to roam the house while Steve was on the phone. You started in the living room and then went to the kitchen. You stopped when you found the front door of the house. You looked behind you, checking to make sure Steve wasn’t behind you. When the coast was clear, you slowly walked towards the door. You looked out of one of the windows that were on either side of the door, pushing the curtain to the side. Your eyes glanced down at the door knob. You were tempted to put your hand on the door knob, turn it, and escape. You thought about it for a second. If you open the door quietly, Steve will never know. You shrugged your shoulders. “What’s the worst that can happen?” You thought to yourself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asks from behind you.

A squeak left your lips and you turned around. Your eyes widened when you seen Steve. You gulped, scared of what he’s going to do to you for attempting to escape.

“I uhh…” You tried to think of an excuse, but couldn’t come up with one.

“You uhh what?” He mocked.

“I just wanted to get some fresh air.” You say, lying through your teeth.

Steve looked at you for a few seconds before saying anything. He knows when you’re lying and that’s what you’re doing right now.

“Nice try, sweetheart, but that’s not what you were going to do now, was it?” He says.

You couldn’t think of an answer for him. Your instincts were telling you to run which you did. You didn’t get far cause Steve grabbed you from behind and picked you up. Your heart started pounding. You thought he was going to take you back to the basement. You didn’t want that so you tried to fight him off.

“L-Leave me go!” You pleaded. “I’m sorry! I-I won’t do it again! I promise!” You say, trying to reason with him.

“You’re making it really hard to trust you, Y/N.” Is all he says.

Instead of taking you to the basement, Steve carried you upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He put you on the bed and walked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. You got off of the bed and ran to the door, pounding your fists on it.

“Stevie, please!” You begged. “Please don’t do this!” You say.

“You did this to yourself, sweetheart. You should’ve known better.” Steve says before walking away.

“Steve!” You called out for him, but he didn’t answer.

Your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered. You got back on the bed, curling yourself up in the fetal position and started crying. You felt bad for your actions. Steve is right. You should’ve known better.

You didn’t even know you fell asleep cause you woke up to the sound of Steve unlocking the door. You quickly sat up, watching as he opened the door. He brought you breakfast. He sat it on the nightstand next to the bed before take a seat on the bed in front of you. He noticed your eyes were red and puffy from crying. He felt bad, but you need to learn your lesson.

“You know I’m doing this for your own good, baby.” Steve says, putting a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“No you’re not. You wouldn’t do this if you just let me explain myself.” You say.

“Then explain yourself.” He says.

You still didn’t have an answer for him. You just sat there and looked down at your lap.

“Still don’t have an answer, huh?” He stood up. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about why you were trying to escape yesterday.” He says.

You watched as he walked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before eating the breakfast he brought you.

Steve left you locked in that bedroom for a week. He brought you food and something to drink everyday you were in there. You felt bad for trying to escape him by the end of the week. You sat on the bed, zoned out and thinking about your actions. You didn’t even hear the door being unlocked and opened, that’s how zoned out you were. Steve walked towards you and sat down on the bed in front of you. You were pulled from your thoughts when Steve put his hand on your cheek, caressing it.

“Are you ready to explain yourself?” Steve asks softly.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I was trying to escape.” You tell him. “I was trying to leave you. I just wanted some fresh air.” You explained. “I deserve to be punished for what I did- or what I tried to do I mean.” You say, looking down at your lap.

“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft. “I’m not mad.” He says.

You lifted your head and looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’re not mad?” You asked.

“No.” He says.

“You’re not going to punish me like what you did to those other women?” You asked.

“No, of course not.” He assured. “I told you that I like- I love you.” He says.

You looked at him. This is the first time he’s said I love you to you.

“You love me?” You asked. “Even after what I tried to do?” You say.

“Yes.” He says.

Steve leaned in, kissing you sweetly. Butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“I love you too.” You say against his lips.

Steve kissed you once more before picking you up and carrying you out of the room and to the bedroom you share with him.

“How about you take a nice hot shower and I’ll make us something to eat.” Steve says.

“Ok.” You say with a smile.

After your shower, you walked in the kitchen wearing a pair of sleep shorts and one of Steve’s shirts. Steve smiles when he sees you. He walks up to you and gives you a kiss.

“I really am sorry.” You apologized again.

“It’s ok. I forgive you.” He says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Ahhh I love your work! Every work of yours I’ve read has been absolutely amazing, you write so beautifully. I was wondering if I could maybe request a Revali x reader headcanons of Rito mating season or heat/rut? Have a wonderful day/night as well!

Hmmm okay, I think I can give you a few off the top of my head, sure! Since we're talking about a mating season, I'm going to write reader a female/afab/child-bearing capable perspective, if that's okay. There's a headcanon I have that will involve that aspect (so trigger warning for that too btw - I'll add it in in the tags but just an fyi!) I also added a little mini fic in there for funsies lol enjoy!

It's overwhelming for him. Being with you is the first time his heat has ever truly affected him before, so the experience engulfs the poor Rito man. It's a new experience for you both.

He's scared he'll hurt you - like...actually scared. For as headstrong as he can be and how well he carries himself, he very much is still a hero - and that means no harm comes to people that don't deserve it. Especially you - who he loves so dearly and would give his ability to fly if it came down to it.

His instincts are so strong he almost can't control them this time. There's a sensation in him that needs to breed you - take you over and over until he knows he's successfully put a child in you.

Should you decide to help him, he's definitely not going to be gentle. You'll likely sustain some scratches, rug burn, and a few hickies here from his love bites. He's giving in to inhibition here, running with something more primal and animalistic than either of you are used to. But if that scares you - please heed his warning and leave! He absolutely would not hold it against you.

Afterwards, he's very cuddly and it's then you'll realize that he's made a makeshift nest out of a bunch of soft things he owned: garments, shed feathers, even all of his scarves that he's owned through the years. He'll hold you to his chest (and his heart is beating FAST), his chirps and trills are quiet but against your body you hear him clear as day. It takes a few minutes for him to slip back into a less animal-like frame of mind, so forgive him if he doesn't answer any questions or respond to you coherently right away.

Normally Revali had never had an issue with mating season before recent - without a mate to call his own, the ruts were never something he couldn't handle. However, after falling for you, the creation of an unbreakable bond of love and trust changes things inside him. His Rito DNA senses the deep affection he holds for you and ultimately alters his internal biology to reflect as such. So when mating season comes around, you're both blissfully unaware at first. Until you walk into his hut and find him doubled over. The scent of you hits him right away, and in a very rough, shaky voice he begs you not to come any closer. But you can clearly see that he's sweating profusely, feathers fluffed and tousled. He's disheveled and groaning in what sounds like pain so immediately you're thinking he's injured...or worse.

When you try to approach him again he raises his voice to leave him alone. "Please!" he begs - and the red alarms in your head are blaring because he is not one to beg for anything - "I need you...t-to leave..." his head hangs and his chest heaves as he tries to keep a semblance of his decency intact, "I c-c-can't...pro...tect you..." You look at him confused, protect you from what? There's currently no danger! Scanning the room, you still don't understand. But then you remember, from a book you'd read a while ago that Princess Zelda has lent to you (just so you could understand Rito culture a bit better) - spring always meant mating season. Your eyes connect with the foliage that peeks just outside of Revali's window - an elder tree in full bloom. So Revali was-- "Let me help you," you offer, realizing now why he seemed so pained. You didn't think about the decision, didn't think about the repercussions - all you wanted was for him to no longer be in distress. The black pupils of this emerald eyes withered to slits. His breathing picks up, a few short huffs away from a hyperventilation. With the last shred of coherent thought he could must, he exhaled out, "I'll...hurt...you..."

Perhaps it was your bravery, or maybe your caring, stubborn heart that would shrug off your coat, laying it on the ground before him. Revali watches you through his exasperated panting, the erection in his lower garments straining terribly, though he's trying to hide it. The groan he lets out sends a chill down your own spine when you move to gently cup his beak in your hands. As soon as you understood what was happening, you knew the risk of staying there. "I don't care, Revali...I know what you need..." his feather take on a more purple shade as he flushes, "...And I want to help you."

You barely have time to undo the bodice portion of your dress when your hands release his face and you turn to undress, because he almost immediately pins you down. His rush on your body has you landing a little awkwardly on your chest and stomach, but it's soothed by the sensation of long, soft fingered-feathers caressing your sensitive skin. The Rito's beak pecks everywhere he can reach, even plucking at your sleeves to release more of your skin from your dress. You feel his taloned foot wrap around your ankle, not necessarily doing anything to you other than anchoring you beneath him. His winged digits pinch your nipples to stiffness: the combination of those pulses of electricity and the very obvious hardness poking at your backside have you gasping already.

His rut makes him impatient; you know this as you already feel fingers circling your entrance, half to rile you up further, half to make sure you're ready. But again - Revali is impatient, and so up goes your dress, over your hips. There's brief shuffling behind you and then just as you brace your hand around what would essentially be his wrist, Revali is already spreading your legs and sliding between them. The pressure of him inside of you has you keening, and you're thankful for the little bit of foreplay you were given, making you just wet enough to accommodate him. The wing that toyed with your chest was now crowding around your neck, pulling your body upright and flush against his chest as he took you.

Revali is far less than gentle, the rough huffs and deep chitters falling over your skin as he held you still: one wing wound very loosely around your neck, the other gripping your thigh for purchase. His beak nibbled at whatever flesh he could reach. "Re...valiiiiii" you whined out, breath hitching mid thrust. But he could not hear you, his mind so incensed with fucking you to fullness, more avian than anything else as he slammed his hips into you. Yes, he would bed you multiple times that evening, and in multiple positions no less, spilling his seed so deep inside you, even he wasn't able to get you pregnant - he was surely going to take you like he planned on it.

------

After all is said and done, you eventually wake upon a bed of soft clothes and feathers. As you look down you realize it's shaped meticulously, as though it was made to have a form. It was then you realize his need to mate had him go through all of the motions: including building a nest for his mate. You look up at your Rito Champion, the tufts of his feathers much more relaxed than earlier as he rests. Your fingers gently stroke his beak, and the pleased chirp he lets out warms your heart. His wings wrap around your frame a little tighter; your hands waft through the down of his chest. You've no idea if this means you'll actually conceive or not - but you do know you don't mind in the least. You love Revali entirely, you wouldn't have offered if you didn't, and you're hoping that making love to him through his rut was proof enough. His beak finds your temple, carefully nibble and peck at the strands of your hair as if to preen you - it makes you giggle, his animal instincts still showing out in small ways as he settles down into sleep.

You'd assess any repercussions of his rougher handling when you awoke later, right now it just felt good to be in his arms like this.

[fieldofdaisiies]

azriel x eris | 3,9k words | warnings: verbal abuse, vulgar wording | masterlist

“My lady,” Azriel says, hoping the Lady of the Autumn Court can hear him over the rain and wind. She doesn’t give him an answer, only stares ahead, at the fog hovering above the ground and the clouds hanging over the tree tops like a thick veil. 

Despite Eris��� tasks and the uncertainty of the future, Azriel’s heart feels a little lighter, knowing that the female in his arms is finally safe. And free.

She no longer is the Lady of the Autumn Court. Right now, she is just a lady. Free. Finally free, after many years in captivity – there is no other way to describe what it must feel like being married to Beron Vanserra.

Azriel clears his throat, and in a louder voice, says, “You will soon be safe, my lady.”

Finally, she turns her head to him, and loosens the steel grip she has had on his Illyrian leathers. Her lower lip quavers when her mouth opens, raindrops rolling down her face, her hair and dress fully drenched. “But Eris,” she breathes, “will he be safe?”

Exactly this thought has been gnawing on Azriel since arriving in the Autumn Court and picking up Eris‘ mother. He knows what Eris is capable of, knows his…mate is powerful, knows that he can fulfil this task. But the what-ifs are just too loud within his mind.

What if he fails?

What if Beron has discovered his plans?

What if Beron strikes before Eris gets a chance to do so?

What if—

Azriel cuts his string of thoughts short, and lowers his chin, looking at the lady for a moment before directing his gaze back at the distance, assessing the direction they are heading into. “Your son won’t fail.” A muscle in his jaw feathers from how hard he is grinding his teeth.. “Eris will succeed, I know this. Beron will fall tonight.”

“I want to believe you, Lord Azriel.” Imala shifts a little in his arms, almost as if moving closer and seeking comfort in his hold. She is unaware of her son’s relationship with Azriel, but the shadowsinger knows that she might be able to sense their connection — motherly instinct or something like this…and it does something to his heart. Knowing that she doesn’t fear him. That she trusts him, and believes him. 

The rain lashes down in relentless torrents, raindrops falling on Azriel’s wings, drenching the membrane and making it more difficult to fly. But he keeps his promise to Eris, being his mother’s guardian as he carries her through the swirling clouds and pouring rain, bringing her to safety within the confines of the Night Court.

He managed to shadowwinnow a big part of the way, but with the rain and storm it gets significantly harder to do so and so flying is definitely the safer option.

The wind whips fiercely around them, but he remains steadfast, holding the lady tightly, grasping her carefully and gently, keeping her safe until an especially strong gust of wind momentarily makes him tumble. 

Azriel, being brilliant at flying, quickly manages to get back to his steady course, and soon effortlessly soars away from the fury of the storm, heading towards the shelter and hopefully better weather of the Winter Court. 

It will be brutally cold there, but hopefully at least no rain. 

He holds her tighter when he surpasses the thick veil of rain and mist, and they emerge in a place that consists of barely anything but endless white. The air is crisp and burns down their lungs with the first intake of breath. 

Keeping their completely drenched bodies exposed to the cold will be their death, Azriel knows this, and so all he can do is summon most of his power and strength and winnow through his shadows, manifesting a moment later in the Middle.

The Middle is most definitely not a place that offers solace and sanctuary, but he needs rest. Flying and winnowing over such a great distance is one thing, but carrying someone while doing so is something wholly different. It drains his energy rapidly, even if he is one of the strongest and most powerful Illyrian warriors.

“My powers differ from those of the High Fae,” Azriel says to Imala when gently placing her on the ground, keeping a protective arm around her, and her close to him. He can’t risk exposing her to her surroundings without a way of protection; not in a place like this, where dangers lurk behind every corner. “That’s why I can’t winnow for such long distances. I always have to switch between flying and travelling through my shadows. I apologise for the circumstances.”

The lady doesn’t seem to pay attention to him, which Azriel understands. He takes in her torn expression, the whirlwind of panic and terror in her auburn eyes and drops his hand, grasping hers gently.

“Eris won’t fall tonight. It will be Beron’s head that rolls.”

She bows her head once. “It doesn’t feel real. This doesn’t feel real, more like a fever dream, Lord Azriel. I’ve been with Beron my entire life, I…I don’t even know what it feels like to live without him.”

The shadowsinger understands. A lot is going to change for her, something she probably has long given up on happening. Her whole life will change for good. She will be reunited with her seventh son and maybe one day with her true love. 

Azriel drags in a few deep inhales, filling his lungs. In the Middle, where there is winter just like in all the other solar courts, it is also cold, but still warmer than in Kallias‘ court.

“I have never learned to winnow in the first place, Lord Azriel. Don’t worry about me, however you bring us to safety is alright for me. And flying…I think I like it. It makes me feel free and…alive.” She gives him a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Gratefulness passes over her face, but is soon once again replaced by worry. Worry no one will be able to erase until word about Eris‘ victory reaches them.

“It‘s never too late to learn something new,” Azriel tells her with a kind smile and extends his hand for her to take. She understands without him explaining— they can continue now, he has rested enough.

Azriel rolls back his shoulders, cranes his neck and his bones crack. Unfolding his wings, he stretches them wide, and inhales a lungful of fresh air. 

It might be smart to rest a little longer, but he doesn’t want to linger in the Middle and expose the—his potential mother-in-law to any kind of danger. 

Lifting her into his arms, Azriel is made acutely aware of why exactly they should not linger. A growl sounds from the deep thicket of the woods, hollowing off the mountains and reverberating through his entire body. He doesn’t let his slight discomfort show, not wanting to worry her even more and quickly pushes off the ground, setting out for their destination: the Night Court.

Again, Azriel manages to shadow-winnow part of the way, and then flies over the Bog of Oorid which sends a shiver down his spine. This was the place where Nesta returned victorious from her fight with the Kelpie and with the Mask. A sense of pride fills him when thinking about his friend and her incredible powers.

He shadow-winnows the rest of the way in the Middle until they finally arrive in Day. He wants to summon his strength, not wanting to make it harder for the lady in his arms than it might already be. She shouldn’t have to think about the Day Court, or who rules over it. Not when there is already so much going on.

But Imala starts to shift in his hold, almost as if sensing they are over the Day Court now. How she did it is a mystery to Azriel.

Slowly, she reaches out, clasping Azriel‘s lower arm tightly. “Please,” she breathes, “can we fly over…this place?”

Azriel silently complies, bowing his head. He loosens his hold a little, allowing her to lean forward to glance over the snow-covered area and the large palace in the far distance.

Nostalgia and a hint of sadness flicker in her eyes, her gaze trained on the palace in the distance and who might be sleeping inside the walls right now. A deep sigh lifts her chest and then she averts her gaze. She leans back against Azriel and her eyes close. When he looks at her, Azriel sees a silent tear roll down her pale cheek.

No words are spoken as they continue their journey. There is no use for them, and Azriel knows that she needs her time now, and her peace and calm.

They arrive in Velaris in the dead of night, Azriel’s wings aching and his arms having started to turn numb due to carrying her the whole time.

He definitely needs a bath, but only allows himself to take one once word has reached the Night Court that Eris is the new High Lord. Before that he will find no rest. Never.

Gently, Azriel lowers Imala to the ground, helping her place her feet on the ground. She tumbles a little, her legs most definitely just as numb as his arms are. She holds onto him for support and then lifts one hand, placing it softly against the side of his face.

“I know my husband and also my sons often referred to your kind as brutes, but you are not a brute, Lord Azriel. You are a gentle and careful male. Thank you. Thank you for what you did for me tonight. What you did for Eris.”

Azriel’s throat bobs, eyes suddenly feeling a little watery. He dips his chin in thanks, not able to speak; his throat is too dry, too tight.

Luckily, the large doors of the Moonstone Palace open a moment with a loud squeak and draw Imala‘s attention there. Azriel escorts her inside, her fragile, trembling hand clasping his fingers tightly. It is not only her hand that does so. Her whole body is still shaking — both from fear and the cold they were exposed to during their journey.

“My lady.” She slows her steps just like Azriel turns her face to him and for the first time the spymaster sees how thin she has truly become. She is nothing more than skin and bones. Scars adorn the skin that is exposed (which isn’t much, only her face, hands and part of her cleavage) — reminders of Beron‘s cruelty.

A shudder courses through Azriel, a mix of hurt and agony curling around his heart like a vice. But within all the pain there is a spark of hope — she is free now, and suddenly Azriel thinks that he really wants her to meet his own mother.

It would help his mother, he knows this, being able to talk to someone who has experienced similarly cruel things, and maybe the Lady of the— Imala will be able to convince his mother to move to the Library or at least leave Illyria.

He has been lost in thoughts and completely forgot that she is still waiting for him to continue. Patience is most definitely a virtue she has practiced well, because she lets him take his time. 

“There is someone waiting for you,” Azriel finally says, repeating part of what Rhysand has spoken into his mind only a few minutes prior.

Imala immediately drops her hands only to slam them over her mouth a second later. “Luc—”

She doesn’t manage to finish what she wanted to say, her voice breaking the moment a sob crashes into it and tears spill out of her eyes.

“Where can I find him?” Obviously Eris and the situation he is currently in is not forgotten, but a new sense of hope fills her voice, and probably her entire body. She fixes her posture, and clasps Azriel’s hand once again.

As the doors eventually swing open at the end of the corridor, revealing the lost son, she collapses to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Ire over all the things he has done to him, all the pain he caused him, hangs like a thick coat over Eris as he enters the Forest House, the big mahogany doors opening and closing equally silent. 

He drags in a deep breath, the cold air burning down his throat, holds it and then realises it. He knows his loyal hounds are all positioned outside the house, the heir not wanting to expose them to any kind of danger if things go wrong.

One hand is balled into a fist at his side, the fingers of the other tightly curled around Truth Teller, the shaft hot against his palm, the blade yearning to spill blood, to take another life. 

Eris knows that Azriel is not here right, that his mate is not with him, but he gave his most precious possession to him and that is enough to calm his speedily beating heart.

Cold sweat coats the back of his neck, but no nervousness can be found within him. There is only a will, a goal, and hope for a better future.

He navigates through the cold corridors, each step he takes bringing him closer to Beron’s office. His father — bile creeps up his throat at the thought of Beron as a father figure. The male who broke him, who tortured and punished him. The male who forced Eris when he was barely ten years old to go outside during storms to learn how to not fear the forces of nature. The male who locked Eris into the dungeon for three days over a silly mistake. The male who broke Eris‘ arm because he thought he had stolen something. The male who killed his brother’s lover and made him watch. The male who punished his mother for things she hadn’t even done.

Killing his own father isn’t simple, Eris knows this, but every little reminder of the beast Beron is, lifts a weight from Eris‘ chest and makes the idea of it a little easier.

It feels like the ancient stones whisper words of encouragement, beckoning him deeper into the Forest House and right to him. The storm outside rages, its fury tangible even within the walls of the house as branches thrash against it. Eris lets his strength be fueled by it — by the forces of nature.

Tonight he will become the new High Lord of Autumn and he will end the centuries of cruelty and fear.

Shadows from the sconces adorning the walls on either side grow thicker around him. The corridor stretches endlessly before him, but he can already see the dark wooden door at the end of it.

Outside, the wind howls, accompanying every step he takes. Despite the darkness both in and outside his body, he presses on.

Tonight he will become the exact kind of bad male Beron has always wanted to turn him into — he will become a monster, his hands will be coated in the blood of his own father. He will take a life. The life of the male who raised him. And beat him and punished him. Who hurt and broke him.

A sudden feeling of apprehension grips Eris as he contemplates the task before him, his heart racing now that he is only mere inches from the door. Worry fills his mind as he prepares for the opening the door and meeting Beron, his hands growing sweaty.

He doesn’t fear for his own life, but the future of this court. If this goes wrong, the Autumn Court will be lost. And so will all of Prythian. He can’t allow this to happen, Eris knows this, and a sense of raw will curls around his spine and slowly seeps into every fibre of his being.

He enters the office without knocking, the door opening rather silently, and his fury reaches its peak. Beron ignores him although having heard his oldest enter.

“Father,” Eris says in a way of greeting, his voice nothing more than a deep rumble. 

Finally, the High Lord tips up his chin, and gives his son a once-over. “Strutting into my office like a proud peacock with no manners. Is that what happens to males when they allow another male to fuck them.”

Slowly, Beron stretches out his long fingers and drops his pen. Casually slowly, he leans back in his old leather chair, smirking.

Eris‘ chest feels like caving in, but despite the whirlwind of shock about his father’s knowledge brewing within him, he keeps his posture straight, his expression unreadable and his gaze locked on Beron.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out, huh?” Beron raises a brow. “The shadowsinger of the Night Court…who would have thought? If you had chose a noble male I might have considered forgiving you, but that you allowed this bastard, this scum of a male, to fuck you—”

“You take that back!” Eris shouts, his voice tinged with venom, fury forming a thick haze in his mind that makes it hard for him to form any rational thoughts.

A low laugh leaves Beron. “I thought you hated him, his cock must have been quite…convincing.”

Eris wants to tell Beton that Azriel is his mate and that they haven’t even slept together yet, but that would only be a waste of time, a distraction from the actual matter at hand. 

“I am not here to talk about my love life with you, father.” Eris takes a slow step forward, then another one, folding his hands behind his back.

“You love him?” Beron lifts a mocking brow. “We shall see how much you love him when his wings are pinned against the wall in my office for you to admire every day of your life. Maybe I‘ll also keep his head as a—”

Eris' power, fueled by fury and panic, manifests like a wildfire, blazing through his veins, burning in his eyes. “Shut up!” he shouts, and Beron’s grin only widens.

If Beron knows that he met with Azriel, then Beron also knows Azriel and his mother are currently leaving the Autumn Court. They are at risk. Because of him. His mate and his mother.

But Azriel is an Illyrian warrior, Eris tries to tell himself, hoping to clear some of the hate still thick within his mind. His wits need to be razor-sharp now, he can’t allow himself a single misstep.

“My son lets a male fuck him and that needs to be punished,” the High Lord drawls. “And what better way than to strip his lover of his most precious assets — his Illyrian wings.”

“Only that this will never happen, father.”

“And yet you are worried, afraid of the things I am capable of, the look on your face was priceless, son, and gave your deepest fear away so easily.” 

Eris wants to wipe the smugness from his face with steel wool. He can’t stand the look anymore, this mocking expression — Beron isn’t taking him serious, laughs at him, and Eris can’t stand it a moment longer.

Slowly, Beron leans forward, candlelight flickering on his table and drawing shadows upon his face. The grin falters, but it turns into a gleeful smirk “Is this now the part where you try to take my life, huh?” Beron asks and it infuriates Eris. “My son, the hero of Prythian.”

“You have just answered your own question, father.”

The High Lord huffs dramatically and folds a hand over his heart. “I hope you don’t expect me to be scared now.” He raises his brows at Eris.

Beron tries to keep his mask in place, but deep down Eris knows that his father‘s act is nothing but false pretence. He is indeed scared, only that he would never admit so. But Eris knows that just like he felt his powers grow, Beron must have felt his powers shrink.

“I am disappointed, that I have to admit,” Beron adds when Eris doesn’t answer him. “Truly disappointed. I raised you, Eris. I made the male out of that you are today. And this is how you thank me?” Beron spits, saliva flying from his mouth. “I have been proud of you for a long time…now I look at a pitiful picture of failure that once used to be my smart and cunning son.”

“You have never been proud of me, father, there is no need to lie now.”

Beton clicks his tongue. “Never is quite a harsh word. I wouldn’t use it in this context, let’s say…” —he taps his index finger against his chin— “I always tried to be proud of you, but you haven’t given me many reasons to truly feel pride in connection to your actions.”

Beron tilts his head to the side. “You got your mother out. Your brothers. Even the piece of trash you called a spy. And all of that while thinking I wouldn’t notice…now tell me how should this make me proud? It feels like a mockery.”

Eris snorts, but says nothing. 

The corner of Beron‘s mouth kicks up again. “You are even a greater fool than I would have ever thought. It is you against me now. A picture of misery against a High Lord.” Beron flexes his fingers when a bolt of pain pierces right through Eris‘ heart.

Beron’s words have always hurt him. After centuries of being victim to them, he thought he would finally be able to have built a protective shield where they would just bounce off, but he was wrong.

The words still affect him. Still hurt him. But he can’t let it show. Never. He can’t allow himself to be vulnerable. Not now, now in this important moment. Not when the future of the Autumn Court is on the rocks.

In moments like these he worries his younger self, the part of him that never got a chance to heal, will show and Beron would forever continue to look down on him and pity him. 

But it ends here. Forever ends here. It is over.

A muscle in Eris‘ jaw feathers, but he keeps his composure, his shoulders squared and his posture straight, his eyes locked on Beron, flames of vengeance burning within the bright amber.

Nevertheless, the High Lord still acts unimpressed, untouched. "You are alone, Eris Kian Vanserra," Beron drawls and folds his hands on the table. "All alone. My stupid son and his visions of a court that will be different, kinder, better," he adds in a mocking, pitiful voice. “You are a dreamer. That’s probably why you allowed the Night Court‘s shadowsinger to fuck you. You are a dreamer just like them.”

“That’s all you have to talk about, huh?” Eris spits. “Yes, maybe I am a dreamer. I have visions, ideas, plans to make this court a better place and finally free it from the tragedy and desperation you brought upon the people.”

“Hm.” Beron chuckles and then purses his lips. Slowly, his power stretches out like a dark thundercloud. “In this world, Eris, there is no place for dreamers. The dreamers always die. And they always die alone.”

Eris opens his mouth, but is cut off by a door slamming open.

"What makes you think that he is alone, father."

Beron’s smug expression crumbles instantly, turning into one of absolute shock and incredulity.

"When you have brothers, father, you are never alone."

"Not one moment."

Together, Kallax, Geras and Zen appear from the shadows of the corridor, daggers clasped in their hands. They flank Eris, who has never felt prouder to call the three males his brothers.

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe @12334555666 @nickishadow139

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @berryzxx

[cheynovak]

Healing Waters - pt 5

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Azriel is sent by Rhysand to the Spring Court to investigate Tamlin's erratic behavior. While spying in the woods, he comes across Y/N, an Illyrian female bathing under a waterfall. Intrigued by her beauty and shocked to see the scars where her wings should have been, he is immediately captivated.

Warnings: 18+ish.... Hurt, pain, anger, nudity, spying, aggression, ...

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own fanfiction, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Part 5/?

* Published September 13th 2024 *

** Azriel's POV **

The night stretched on, filled with restless pacing and seething anger that I couldn’t seem to shake off. The memories of Y/N's story replayed in my mind, fueling a relentless rage that I directed toward the name “Keir.” I couldn’t stand the thought of him walking free, still living while others had suffered because of his cruelty.

I couldn’t stay idle, so I sent the information directly to Rhysand. His response was quick, his promise to look into it reassuring, but he also warned me to stay away from Hewn City and Keir. He knew me well enough to anticipate my next move, and I hated that he was right.

My instincts were to hunt down that bastard and end him, but Rhys had always been the voice of reason, the one who could temper my more impulsive tendencies.

In my frustration, I let out a furious yell into the night, my voice carrying across the quiet streets. “I want to rip his head off!”

The sound of my own anger echoed back to me, amplifying the frustration I felt. Rhysand didn’t respond, and I was left alone with my thoughts until I noticed a figure standing in the distance.

Y/N was there, clad in her nightgown, her presence a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed me. She looked at me with a mixture of concern and something softer—maybe understanding.

The sight of her calmed me in a way I hadn’t expected. Her presence was a reminder of why I had to hold onto my promise, why my anger needed to be channeled into something more constructive.

As I approached her, she made a feeble attempt at humor, a weak smile on her lips. “So, some part of you is still Illyrian, huh? I already started to think you were to tame.”

Her comment made me chuckle despite the lingering anger. It was a gentle reminder of the calmness I was struggling to keep in check. “My temper can still be very much Illyrian,” I replied, my voice softer now, the anger receding as I looked at her.

She gave a small, shaky laugh, and I could see the fear behind her brave façade. It was a side of her I hadn’t seen before, and it made my resolve harden even further. I couldn’t let her be afraid because of what I might do. I needed to be the protector I had promised to be.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said, trying to soften my tone. “I just… needed to vent.” She shook her head, her gaze steady despite the tremor in her voice. “It’s okay. I understand... I eh, used to yell at my demons too, at times.”

The sincerity in her words was like a balm to my frayed nerves. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and nodded. “Thank you for trusting me, with those demons.”

I looked at Y/N, still standing in her nightgown, a slight flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. I could see that she was trying to avoid eye contact, her gaze shifting back toward the hallway and the direction of her room.

“Why are you up?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. She turned slightly, her discomfort palpable. “Eh, the bed…” she began, trailing off as if the explanation was somehow too trivial.

“What’s wrong?” I pressed gently, trying to draw her out. She looked embarrassed, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown. “It’s too soft,” she admitted, almost in a whisper.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her confession. “I get the feeling,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Years of sleeping on the cold, hard floor can make it difficult to adjust to a bed that feels like a cloud you’re about to fall through.”

Her eyes met mine, and despite her discomfort, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was a smile that spoke of shared understanding, a moment of connection over something as simple as an uncomfortable bed.

“I guess thats what I mean,” she said, her voice a bit more relaxed now. “I’m just not used to all this softness.”

We stood there for a moment, the night air cool around us, the tension from earlier dissipating into a comfortable ease. It was strange, but this small conversation about an overly soft bed had created a new kind of bond between us—one that was built on shared experiences and mutual understanding.

“If you need anything,” I said, my voice sincere, “just let me know.”

Y/N gave me a grateful look, her eyes reflecting a sense of relief. “Thanks, Azriel. I appreciate it.”

Hearing her say my name stirred something deep inside me, a feeling I hadn’t expected, and certainly hadn’t invited. The way Y/N's lips shaped my name sent a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite shake off. As she turned and began walking toward her room, my mind wandered, unbidden, to the image of her whispering my name again—but this time in a far more intimate setting.

I imagined her in my bed, her soft voice barely a breath against my ear as I held her close, our bodies entwined in the warmth of night. The thought sent a ripple of heat through me, and I quickly forced myself to suppress it, to keep my emotions and, more importantly, my scent from betraying me. The last thing I wanted was for her to sense what I was thinking.

But her presence… the way she smelled after living so long outdoors—like fresh earth, pine, and a touch of something uniquely her—made it difficult to keep my focus. It wasn’t the typical perfumes and floral scents most females wore. No, her scent was raw, natural, and it stirred something primal in me that I had no business entertaining.

She paused mid-step, and for a moment, I worried my control had slipped. She swallowed hard, her shoulders tensing just slightly, as if she sensed the shift in the air between us. My heart raced for the briefest moment, my mind running wild with the possibility that she might turn around and call me out.

But she didn’t.

She simply took a deep breath, gathered herself, and continued walking. There was no comment, no accusatory glance. She either hadn’t noticed, or she was kind enough to pretend she hadn’t. Either way, I was grateful.

I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and cursed myself for letting my thoughts get away from me. This wasn’t the time or place for such distractions. Y/N had already been through enough. The last thing she needed was for me to make things awkward, or worse, let her think I had some ulterior motive, that I would be the scum that had forced himself on her.

No I needed to keep her safe, wanted to keep her here with me, where I know she's save.

** Y/N's POV **

The moment I smelled him, it took me a second to recognize the scent—a mixture of raw power, shadows, and something distinctly masculine that stirred something inside me. It had been a long time since I had been this close to an Illyrian male, and even longer since I had sensed arousal from anyone. The realization hit me just as I reached my room, and I forced myself to keep moving, though my legs suddenly felt unsteady.

I closed the door behind me, leaning back against it, my breath coming out in shaky, uneven waves. How was it possible? I’d only mentioned not being able to sleep, and yet I’d felt it, the change in his scent. The sharp edge of desire laced through the air, unmistakable. And what baffled me most was that it wasn’t unwelcome. I didn’t feel disgust or fear like I would have in the past.

I wasn’t upset.

But I was confused. My mind began to wander as I stood there, eyes closed, trying to make sense of it. Azriel—the way he looked at me, the subtle heat in his eyes that I hadn't fully registered before. I began to imagine what it would be like with him, to feel his hands on me, his body pressed against mine. For a moment, I indulged the thought, picturing slipping into his room, into his bed. What would it be like to experience something real, something not born from pain and cruelty, but desire?

I could almost feel his warmth, the gentle touch of his hands on my skin, his lips trailing down my neck as he whispered my name. The thought made something inside me stir—a strange, unfamiliar heat that I'd never associated with intimacy before.

But then, the memories crept back in, as they always did. Sex had never been about pleasure for me. It had been a tool, a weapon used against me. My body had been nothing more than a means to an end for others. The idea of it ever bringing joy or connection was foreign to me, no matter how much I wanted to believe it could be different with someone like him.

Azriel.

He seemed different—a good male, one who could offer something more. But I couldn’t bear the thought of ruining the image I had of him, of seeing him through the same lens as all the others who had used me. What if the reality didn’t live up to the fantasy? What if, in the end, he was no different?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. No, no. It’s not fun, I reminded myself. It never had been. And I didn’t want to risk breaking this fragile thing between us.

I heard him. Even through the thick wood of my door, I could sense Azriel on the other side, moving about in his room. The same scent lingered in the air—desire, thick and palpable, brushing against my skin like a caress. It sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs feel unsteady, my heart pounding faster than I cared to admit.

How was he doing this to me?

My thoughts spiraled, battling between reason and impulse. Should I open the door? Should I let him in? Just for a moment, for a taste of what it could be like? I didn’t know why, but my body craved it, craved him. I hadn’t felt anything like this in so long—maybe I never had. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I hesitated, doubting myself, doubting him.

By the time I made up my mind, my hand reaching for the doorknob, I heard his door close.

The soft click echoed down the hall, and I knew I was too late. My heart dropped slightly, disappointment settling into my chest. Still, I found myself stepping across the hall, standing just outside his door, drawn to him despite my better judgment. My hand hovered above the wood, unsure whether to knock or walk away. But instead, I leaned in, pressing my ear gently to the surface, my breath hitching as I strained to hear anything on the other side.

And then I heard it—his heavy breaths, labored and uneven, the sound of desire and restraint barely held in check. My heart thudded loudly in my chest, every beat reverberating through me as I caught his scent again. Stronger now, more potent. The way it tugged at me made my body respond instinctively, a warmth pooling deep in my stomach.

Then, in the silence of the night, I heard him murmur something under his breath, barely audible.

My name.

The sound of it slipping from his lips, filled with need, with want—it sent a shock through me. I hitched a breath, my pulse racing, and I stepped back, almost stumbling as I did. His voice, soft and raw, saying my name like that… it made me feel things I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in so long.

I stood there, frozen for a moment, torn between wanting to open the door and flee back to my room. His presence, his desire—it was so close, so tangible. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face what lay behind that door.

Before I could slip back into my room I heard his door open.

"Y/N?"

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @sidthedollface2 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @mich0731

[wroteclassicaly]

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Plus!Sized Female Reader

Word count: 1,676

Summary: You and Steve have some of your favorite kind of playtime. It’s pretty intense.

Warnings: Language, use of a blindfold, daddy!Steve, use of a sex toy & strap on/harness, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, slight male masturbation, anal sex, Steve gets pegged, but power bottoms from the top, and overall NSFW content!

A/N: It started out as a small thot in my brain in the early morning/late night hours. I called it the midnight unholys, haha. And it developed into… Well, this. I have another one in the works, but this one came first, and it’s also a plus sized reader, so I hope that’s okay?

This is untitled, because I couldn’t really think of one. Anyways… Hope y’all enjoy? ;) ❤️💖

Steve makes you lay completely naked with your legs spread open, watching him jerk himself off and finger his own ass. You’re not permitted to touch yourself, or you get blindfolded and tied up. Then when you don’t listen, when your fingers accidentally dip between your thighs, he’s moving over to where you are, securing a black fold around your head, its familiar silk tickling your ears with a light muffle.

“Tsk tsk, honey. I told you to listen to me.”

“But Stevie, I —“

He clamps a huge palm over your mouth, his salty skin on your parched lips. “You want me to gag you next, baby?”

Your thighs slap together, skin jiggling, and he snorts. “Yeah, I knew you’d probably like that. You’re extremely insatiable.”

He doesn’t let you know what’s going to happen next, simply warns you to not push it and to leave your hands above your head. “If a finger even twitches, then m’ gonna make sure you’re sorry when I’m through with you.”

You comply, much to his pleasure — a little to his chagrin, if he’s honest. But it makes things easier to set his plan in motion, moving away from you and smirking as you call for him from your spot on the living room couch.

“Steve? You’re not leaving me like this, tell me you’re—“

“You better NOT be moving, and that includes your mouth, little girl. So shut up and let daddy get what he needs to!”

The chains click against the thick leather, the other item heavy in his hand — something you both love to indulge in, more than you’d anticipated when you bought it. Originally, it was for you, modeled after Steve, but when the tequila became too strong and mouths became pliant — secret wants and wishes were spilled and agreed upon.

“Not fair I’m the only one who has to take a thick fucking cock, Stevie. Maybe I want to see how badly you struggle afterwards?”

“Mhm, you’re kinda right, honey.”

And that was the end of that. Introducing one of Steve’s favorite (and yours) playtime plays.

As you can’t see anything, nor move your hands — you’re relying on what you can smell, taste, and hear. So you nearly fall off the couch cushions when your boyfriend’s foot falls sound along the hardwood, approaching you. He coos at you, dropping some items on the coffee table beside you, his fingers tickle-tapping along your forearm and up into your palm, making you instinctively grasp him in a hold. You recoil and curse, whimpering. “Shit, m’ sorry. I didn’t mean to move, daddy.”

Steve’s entire jaw aches from the shit eating grin of your timid submission. He brushes his along your eyebrows, right above where the fabric rests. “It’s alright, for now. But I’m afraid that I still can’t let the earlier offense slide, honey.”

“Oh, fuck.” You’re nodding and resigning to your fate. “Whatever you have to do to teach me not to touch…”

His mouth is leaving feather light kisses to your jawline now, his apple and cedarwood body wash igniting your senses, your ability to taste his aftershave, practically on your tongue. He has to fight himself not to hold onto your hands, his automatic must have, especially during sex. Your bare body is laid out for him to do whatever he wants, your trust and soul entwined. He beams with a pride so genuine that it’s enough to help him slide away and tap your hips. “Lift up for me, baby.”

You don’t hesitate, Steve uses his strength to quickly maneuver your right leg into the harness, then the other. The moment that the material glides across your ankles and calves — you moan, immediately lifting your ass to help him slide the straps up until they’re in their place around the thick plush of your hips. So this is what he wants tonight? You should’ve known the second his fingers found that tight little rim below those full balls, how hard his cock was, the lube bottle open and beside his feet. This was what he had planned, despite your behavioral misstep in trying to touch yourself.

“How’s it feelin’, honey?” Ever-the-present boyfriend, he’s checking in with you first.

You shift a bit, the straps tightening across your thighs and beneath the pudge of your belly, sticking in the most delicious of ways. As Steve awaits your response, he can see your skin under pressure from the leather straps, but what’s mainly catching his attention? That small gap right below where the cock attaches, right where he can see your swollen pussy on display for him. You’re soaked, thighs shiny with it, drenching the harness, clit surrounded by a small bush of hair that’s coated in your cream. It comes out of his mouth before he can stop it (as if he would).

“Holy shit, your cunt is soaking wet, honey.” Your pupils are blown so wide that you look on the verge of leaving planet earth as you face him.

He reaches over to grip the thick shaft, breathing wet and shaky, and he’s quicker in attaching the heavy weight of the silicone, making you marvel once more. How does he manage carrying the real thing between his legs all the time? Your chest heaves sporadic beats, ones that slam against your ribcage, holding the bones hostage, nearly dusting them to ash. His voice is raspy when he speaks, tendrils of chestnut hair tickling your cheek as he leans down by your ear. “Be right back. Gonna get our lube. Daddy can’t take you without it.”

You’re grinning, knowing he is doing that Steve cheshire to match. It doesn’t take but mere seconds, the sound of the gel being squirted into his hand — loud and present. The couch dips with the weight of his knees, his body shuffling as he moves to straddle you, his heavy cock falling against your stomach, grazing the silicone. You're hit with a memory of jerking him and the toy off at once.

“Yeah, I’m remembering that too, babygirl. Your poor wrist needed iced up after that, remember?”

With how hard he’s breathing, you can imagine how dark his eyes are, how the hazel has been obliterated by a midnight sky, thick with desire. He shifts his hairy thighs on either side of your hips, heavy and light all at once. His tone of command leaves zero room to argue. He’s still in charge.

“Now. Here’s what’s gonna happen, honey. I’m going to use your cock, ride you until I cum, and you’re not allowed to see me or touch me, because you didn’t listen.”

Protests and cries die on your lips, but he shushes you right away. He’s well aware that you can’t stand not touching him, especially when he’s riding your strap. Always needing to have your hands on the thick of his beautiful ass — smacking, encouraging it, scratching, pulling it apart. He gives you points when you don’t disagree further, your hands staying perfectly still, even as he makes a fast task of lubricating the faux dick and himself, tossing the bottle beside your leg. He finds your thick waistline, squeezes — and then, reaching with one hand, he tugs the tip of the toy towards his ass, gently easing it back and forth across his perineum.

“God, honey. Your strap is gonna make me feel so fucking good. Gonna soak your tits and your face in my cum.”

“Yes, please. Fucking use me, Steve!”

He grumbles about that being what he likes to hear, and then he’s settling his weight onto you, right into his loud whimpering cries, as he eases himself down the toy — each realistic ridge and thick inch making him feel for what you have to go through, but also making his brain short circuit, and your own, hearing how slick and wet he is, how his tight hole opens up for its thick girth. It hits against that special spot, and already, his toes are curling. You can’t see him, but you can feel the slippery perspiration of his skin, coarse leg hair, right to the happy trail that dips down his belly button and settles around the base of his own fat cock. He’s groaning, tongue tied and gone. Your fingers almost twitch.

“Good boy, Steve. You’re doing so good for me. Are you — you okay, baby?”

He drops a hand to your cheek and swipes his calloused thumbpad, nodding, even though you can’t see, beginning to thrust himself into the rhythmic pain. This won’t last long, he’s well aware. His pre-come squirts out in fresh waves, soaking your belly each time he works his hips. “It’s perfect. Fuck, baby.” He loses himself and lets his hand fall backwards, nudging your legs apart a little more, skimming that opening where your pussy meets the harness straps.

Your thighs begin to tremble and you mewl, quite pathetically. Steve is cursing. “Honey, that’s my good-fuckin’-girl! You’re sopping wet. And that’s all because daddy is riding you, huh?”

“You feel amazing, Stevie! How’s my strap? Nice and thick in your tight little hole, splitting you open just like you always do to me?”

You can’t form a coherent thought, both of you becoming lost in the power dynamic and babble. Steve is a writhing mess at your words, hand working overtime behind him.

He strokes and swipes as best as he can, taking what arousal he gathers from you, and uses it to circle around his rim — that’s stuffed full of your strap, and then he’s taking some more to slick his aching cock, peeling it off your stomach, letting it bob back and forth, slapping your skin in a sticky press. You’re planting your feet into the couch and helping get him deeper, his hands finding your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples, holding on as he begins to bounce, even his teeth aching from the overwhelming urge to come, his breathing accelerating.

Yeah, this isn’t gonna last much longer…

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MAKE A WRITER’S WORLD GO AROUND - SO PLEASE DO NOT FORGET TO LEAVE SOME! Thanks! ;)

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hey I need to yell at you about Pack Play

First I wanna mention doppelgänger twice. I like him. He's basically the same as canon but I like him. Anyway, 

Once again your world building shines. Mating houses, what some wolves think of chew toys, the logistics of a rut room—love it love it love it

I know these two are probably a shade less platonic than a different pack would be, but I LOVE that the grooming and shared cycles ARE considered platonic. 

"Maybe, but you're my pack, And I take care of you." Delicious

The chuffing, dabi showing his stomach, shig nipping his throat, dabi WAITING FOR PERMISSION TO KEEP USING THE TOY!!! All the inhuman cues that show Dabi's submission are making me insane

And thinking about it from Shigs perspective??? The pretty, prickly alpha that probably challenged him at their first meeting now wants to be used so badly that he fucking goes limp???? And even better, it's because he trusts him?? 🥴🥴🥴

And don't get me wrong I love bitching, but this flavor of. Fuck idk. Domestic submission? Service kink? Wolves submitting to their leader no matter their dynamic, nearly got me skipping into work this morning

I'm curious about their biology in this too. Shig has a secondary sex, but dabi doesn't? Does that mean alphas are usually male and omegas female? Do pack dynamics change that, like could an omega be the alpha of a pack?

FEELING LIKE SHIG MATED HIM WITH THE CHEW TOY??????!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEE I AM SCREAMING LIKE A TEA KETTLE. IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE THAT THEY'D GET LIKE A HORMONE RUSH FROM THE SCENT OF BLOOD WHILE FUCKING!!!

Thank you to whoever commissioned this, and of course to you tanco!!!

ehehehe thank you for yelling!

I know I talk about fics re-writing my brain chemistry, but god damn did this one fucking do that too! I had such a good time exploring a different interpretation of werewolf lore!

Shig was definitely losing it to his instincts to see Dabi displaying such perfect submission when, up to this point, he'd barely acknowledged him as his pack, let alone his alpha. It definitely made everything a little less platonic on his end right from the jump!

Yeessss, I really like this concept of pack dynamics for a world where secondary sexes aren't really a thing anymore. Like this is a world where ABO dynamics existed a very long time ago, but they were bred out of the population because they weren't as strong as just having synced cycles and pack-mating (especially for turned packs, which usually outnumber born packs). If there were male omegas/female alphas, they wouldn't exist in this day and age. And the holdovers of ABO traits are very mild, like with Shig who can just continue having a knot through his whole cycle, it's not that much of a difference to a normal male wolf like Dabi (even his thought that Shig's cycle would last longer, ended up being an incorrect assumption because they ended at the same time). On the other side, female wolves who have traces of Omega still in them might produce more slick that smells more strongly, but that's about it. It's not a notable difference and in a few more generations, these traits will likely be eradicated completely because they don't have a real biological/evolutionary advantage in modern society. These holdovers are entirely biological, and don't impact pack dynamics! Wolves of any sex or gender can be alphas, but there aren't pack omegas or betas, "alpha" now just refers to the leader of the group, and no one identifies as having a secondary sex in wolf society.

The psychosexual impact of having that smell and the fake flesh in their mouths nearly made the two of them feral, and we love that for them!! You bet your ass that the next time their cycle hits, they're going to be out there taking chomps out of each other's throats until their scents are so tangled that they'll give any other wolf/pret a headache if they are within a five-mile radius of them.

Thank you so much for commenting!

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Steve while he is on the run and sticks with him through everything. Until he sees Peggy Carter again.

Chapter 11: Babymoon

Warnings: swearing, angst

Baby girl Y/L/N was born at 30 weeks gestation, 11 lbs, 1 oz and 25 inches. She was closer in size to a 3 month old than a newborn.

Y/N had been contemplating a name ever since she found out she was having a girl. When she first found out she was pregnant, before Steve left her, she had thought about naming a girl Sarah after his mom. Now she was uncertain but refused to use any inspiration from Steve.  She thought about Jamie since Bucky had been such a rock for her but baby wasn't his and maybe Y/N had dreams of her and Bucky's kids in some hopeful future. She wasn't sure how he felt but some of his actions pointed to romantic feelings. It was hard to trust her instincts after Steve.

The day after baby was born, after breakfast, a lady from the records office showed up to record all the details for her birth certificate. Bucky watched with interest because Y/N had kept mum about her decision.

Y/N looked at Bucky and smiled at him lovingly "Her name will be Guinevere Hope Y/L/N."

When asked who the father was she made a face, "Unknown" then smirked at Bucky with a glint in her eye. He looked at her a little shocked but said nothing.

The recorder missed the looks but smiled at them and kept her assumptions to herself when she saw how big the baby was born. She left wishing them the best.

Bucky turned to look at Y/N as she nursed not so little Winnie, with a question on his face.

She smiled at him "Guinevere because she was the lead female in my favorite play, Camelot, which my father introduced me to. But we will call her Winnie, to honor the woman who raised an amazing man like you, of course. I wish I could thank her in person because you saved me, Buck. I don't know how I would have dealt with everything without you."

He looked surprised and blushed "I don't know what to say, doll. I uh" he stammered, then swallowed "Ok. And father unknown?"

She smirked again "It's really a safety thing. We don't need to advertise that there's a super soldier baby. Pepper and I talked about it. The fact that it denies him that basic acknowledgement is just a bonus." She giggled

Winnie pulled back to see about this noise her mama was making and smiled, even tried to laugh but it came out as a little cough. Y/N smiled and put her over her shoulder to burp her.

Bucky was startled by the loud and slightly wet burp that came out and jumped a little.

Y/N chuckled "Some super assassin, scared of a baby's burp. We need to make sure to tell Helen she smiled already. I'm pretty sure that's not a newborn thing. I think this little one will keep me on my toes."

The peace was broken when Steve showed up with flowers and another teddy bear with a pink bow and a Captain America shield.

Y/N tensed and Winnie picked up on it, rubbing her face on her mama's shoulder.

Steve smiled "I left after she was born last night, you looked tired so I figured today would be better." He reached out to rub the baby's back but she mewled and flinched when he touched her so he quickly pulled his hand back, his smile faltering.

He rubbed Y/N's shoulder which she shrugged off and turned to glare at him. "Why are you here, Steve?" She asked coldly.

He looked pissed for a moment before he reined his temper in "Y/N, you know why I'm here. Regardless of what happened between us, she is my daughter and I have the right to get to know her."

She shook her head "I wouldn't come here boasting about any rights, right now. I told you I wouldn't keep you away from her but I had to have an emergency c-section after you came pushing your way back into my life and caused all kinds of unnecessary stress. She and I both could have died yesterday but you didn't think about that when you forced your way into my house, did you? When have you ever really considered me first, since we've met? It's always what you want, what you need, what you deserve."

Steve tried to protest but she cut him off.

"Even if you didn't know I was pregnant, you still left Bucky behind. After all we went through and all your end of the line bullshit, you left him here to fend for himself in a future he didn't belong in either. I can't believe how selfish you are." She was getting worked up again and Helen came quickly after the blood pressure monitor started beeping.

"Y/N, you need to calm down, your blood pressure is spiking again and-" she noticed Steve and shook her head "I should have known you were here, Captain. You need to leave and stop upsetting my patient. No more visitors."

Steve looked at Bucky who wasn't moving to leave "What about him?" He spat "Why does he get to stay?"

Helen shook her head again, "Because he's her birth partner and-. Ugh, just go."

Steve looked like he was going to protest but deflated when he watched Y/N and Bucky interact and care for little Winnie. He shook his head and left.

Steve went over to see Sam for some support but it didn't go how he expected. Sam wasn't pleased with him either.

"You left her, man. Without even saying goodbye and you wonder why she's so hostile with you? Seriously?" Sam chastised him.

Steve shook his head, "But I wanted.."

Sam interrupted "All I keep hearing about from you is what you want or deserve. What about what she deserved? What Bucky deserved? Leave them alone."

Steve clenched his jaw "But she's my girl and Bucky just swooped in and-"

Sam had it "Enough!! She was your girl and Bucky has been helping her since you weren't there. If her and Bucky are happy together, I think they both Deserve that."

Steve sighed "I just wanted to be a father, have a family. But now I have to share that family with him."

"Him?" Sam scoffed 'You mean the best friend you abandoned? I thought you'd be glad he has found some happiness." Sam countered.

Steve sat with his head in his hands "This isn't how it was supposed to go. Growing old with Peggy was supposed to be like I dreamt of as a kid but she wasn't a fan of all the trappings of that dream. I wanted to retire and rest, travel without having to fight anyone but she wouldn't slow down so I was home alone too much. Kids would have interfered so she refused. She didn't have time to cook and clean so I became a house husband. Not to mention the guilt over leaving Y/N and Bucky behind." He looked up at Sam

"I felt like I would never get it in this time so I went back and still didn't get it."

Sam sat next to him "I'm sorry going back wasn't everything you wanted but that doesn't excuse your actions then or now. You almost got Y/N and your daughter killed the way you stressed her out so much." He paused "Just give them a minute to settle in and she will let you have time with the kid."

Steve spoke so low Sam almost didn't hear "Y/N named her after Bucky's mom, not my mom but his."

Sam patted his shoulder "Yeah, I know but he's been there for her, takes care of her and she wanted to honor that.

You need to respect that too."

Steve drew in a breath like he was going to say something else but he saw the look on Sam's face and deflated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning while Y/N was feeding Winnie, Bucky came back from some meetings and turned on the news to show Y/N.

"You've got to see this, doll."

There was Steve, looking serious in a press conference. Y/N was shocked when he apologized for his recent behavior and words. He told them the incident at the gala was based on a misunderstanding and that he was the one who left her right before she discovered she was pregnant. He stated that Y/N and Bucky had his blessing and he was looking forward to raising his daughter with them.

Steve stepped down before answering any questions while Y/N and Bucky looked at each other in shock.

She grabbed his arm "Is he sincere or is this another ploy to manipulate us and get what he wants? I want this to be real but I don't know if I can trust him."

Bucky pulled her to him "I don't know what's on his mind but I'll be here regardless."

She looked at him shyly "You know you don't have to right? Don't get me wrong I appreciate everything you do for us and love having you around but you should be living your life. Find a girl to settle down with, have a couple of kids of your own, you know." She said sadly

Bucky looked her in the eyes "What if I found that girl but we have to wait cuz she just had a kid?" And leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips.

Y/N leaned into the kiss, feeling sparks running down her body. She absentmindedly chased after when he pulled away. She realized what she was doing and pulled back, opening her eyes and felt her face heat up.

She looked at him in wonder "Are you sure? Lady with a kid is a lot to take on. Me being your friends ex adds another level of potential drama. I don't know that I'm worth all that.

Bucky shook his head "I'm positive and you are worth all the drama in the world, to me. I already feel like her daddy and love her like she was mine. We've been talking and playing for months."

He paused, looking uncertain

"Unless, unless you don't want this, don't want me like I want you."

Y/N laughed softly "Are you kidding me? I've been holding myself back from attacking you. I just want you to be sure. I don't want to get my hopes up or for Winnie to grow attached, only for you to leave because it's too much. And I don't want to mess up your recovery."

He looked deep into her eyes "I haven't been so sure of anything in my life. I'd propose today if I thought you'd say yes." He chuckled at the panicked look on her face

"Don't worry, I wouldn't even dream of proposing until you're healed and your hormones are getting back to normal."

He gently took her hand

"I can see a future with you and it wasn't so long ago that I couldn't see any future for me at all, much less a happy one. Now I can see myself growing old with you and I can't wait."

She smiled at him "I've been feeling it too but didn't want to scare you away. Let's just take it one day at a time and see where things go."

Bucky smiled and kissed her again until Winnie started trying to push him away and they both laughed, feeling lighter than either had felt in awhile.

Chapter 12

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 21: The General

You finally meet the Imperial you've heard so much about. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-19 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and a smidge beyond. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 3.1K

You barely slept. Your mind was running through scenario after scenario, coming up with contingency plans. You had to fight to not pick up the com and try to talk to Din every five minutes. His voice was comforting. He was familiar and safe and when he was talking it felt like everything was going to be OK. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in spots like this before. You’d been in tight places, you’d broken into bases, pretended to be Imperial, been pinned down and outnumbered. This was different. 

The Mandalorian and the kid made it different. You’d gone into the war expecting to not make it to the other side. Your attachments were few - Sosha, Dagres, your family, your fellow handmaids. You wanted to come home to them and survive, but you’d known that you probably wouldn’t. There was almost a comfort in the relationships you did have - that you knew Sosha wouldn’t put her life on the line for you. That wasn’t her job, it was yours. Your fellow handmaids would prioritize the needs of the greater good over you, including making sure Sosha and as many handmaids as possible made it out alive. Even your parents would choose the future of the galaxy over you. 

When Dagres had fought through troopers to get to you, when he’d ignored his own safety to help you and it got him killed, it was the first time you’d realized you were a liability. You didn’t understand your relationship with the Mandalorian. You weren’t sure he did, either. You weren’t sure if he even really liked you but he had, for some reason, decided he was responsible for your life to some extent. And he didn’t like to fail. If nothing else, your death would be a failure and that made you a liability. 

“I’m heading down,” you said, twisting the com between your fingers. 

“I’ll come get you,” he said quietly. “Right now. Let me come get you, tell me to come get you.” 

“We have to finish it,” you replied, looking out the window in the direction of the ship. 

He was silent for a moment. 

“Anything happens, call,” he said. “I’ve got the ship ready. I’ll get you out.” 

You made sure you had everything you wanted to keep on your person as you left the inn that day, settling in at the bar early. Now, you just had to wait. 

The man arrived, alone, at dusk, your stomach in knots. 

“Haven’t found a better job,” he said. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” you replied. 

“Still want to see what my contact has to offer?” He asked. 

“Can’t be worse than anything else I’ve gotten this week,” you said, slinging your bag and new rifle on your back. “But if he’s as useless as everyone else on this damned world, I’m leaving.” 

He gave you a cocky smile and led the way from the bar, into the street. You followed behind him, watching for everything around you, to a spot on the edge of town. There was a door at the side of the building, opening directly onto stairs, going down into a basement. You swallowed, your heart beating hard against your ribs. Basements meant less means of egress, easier ways to get pinned down. You looked toward where you knew the Razor Crest sat, where Din and the child were waiting. It was instinctive. You wanted to go home to them. They were home. You went into the basement. 

There were four troopers at the bottom of the stairs, armor dingy with sand and age. 

“We’re here to see the general,” your contact said. 

“Who’s she?” The nearest one stepped toward you. You met his eyes beneath his helmet. 

“Someone who doesn’t suffer fools and their questions,” you snapped. 

“She has to leave the blaster and the rifle,” another trooper said. 

“What, don’t trust me?” You asked the man. 

“I don’t even know your name,” he said. “Of course I don’t trust you.” 

You shrugged, taking off the rifle and slipping the blaster from your holster, handing it to the trooper. 

“Those are sighted for me,” you glared at him. “Fuck with them and I’ll kill you.” 

“They’ll respect your weapons,” the man said, opening another door and holding his arm out, inviting you in. You glared at him. 

“This had better be worth my time,” you said, your heart in your throat. You went inside. 

It was a larger room than you’d been expecting, it looked like storage for one of the shops that was above it. A man, wearing his old Imperial uniform, sat behind a makeshift desk, just a table with a crate behind it he was using as a chair. He was the right age, human, just had to confirm his identity. You crossed your arms, standing across the room, looking him up and down as the man who’d brought you followed you inside, the door closing behind him. Well, no in room backup at least. That made things easier. 

“My assistant has told me you wish to serve the Empire,” the man said. He was watching you, closely. 

“Only if the work will actually restore our Empire,” you took a step closer. “And only if you give me a good reason to serve you. I’ve encountered too many men like you, who just want revenge, who feel slighted. You want to feel like you’ve won, don’t give a damn about bringing back the Imperial power of my youth. I’m not wasting my life on that.” 

“I can assure you, my only goal is restoring our great Empire,” he smiled. His skin was almost sickly pale, he was probably spending a lot of time moving from basement to basement. “But first I need to collect talent. My associate said you served aboard the Executor.” You nodded once. “You look… familiar. I spent some time aboard that ship when traveling with Lord Vader. Tell me, what was your role.” 

You hoped the knots that had tightened in your stomach weren’t showing on your face. 

“Interrogation and information gathering,” you replied. You jerked your head to the man who had brought you here. “He called you general. General what.” 

“Shadrin,” he smiled. “And I haven’t come across an interrogator the New Republic let survive.” 

“Who said they let me,” you said. “I don’t answer to the New Republic, whether or not they want me dead is of no consequence to me. What’s your plan, to restore the Empire? Why would you need me?” 

He smiled, giving the man you were with a small nod. 

“You seem very interested in my plans,” he gestured to a crate on the opposite side of the table from him. You stalked over to it, keeping an eye on the position of the man you were with. You didn’t want him at your back. He followed and you sat on the crate, your escort taking a seat on the one beside you. 

“I don’t like wasting my time,” you snapped. “And you were a general before but that means you’re a general who lost us the war to rebel scum. I have no reason to trust your plans now.” 

He looked over your face, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips to your hair. He was analyzing you, like he was either trying to place you or trying to decide if he wanted to fuck you. 

“What have you been doing since the fall?” He asked, still examining you. 

“Getting by,” you replied. “What’s your plan.” 

“Oh I’m sure you’d like to know everything about it,” he said. “Handmaid.” 

You pursed your lips, glancing to the man at your side. He was frowning. He didn’t know. For a moment - not even half a second, really - the Mandalorian was there in your mind. The sound of his voice, the way he’d taken care of you, the feel of his hands on you. You’d never get to see him again and you’d never be able to tell him what he meant to you. You’d resigned yourself to death before, but this time was worse. You would be losing him.

But if you were going to die here, you could at least take some of the operation down with you.

“Well,” you sighed, slipping your hand into your pocket and wrapping your fingers around the handle of your knife. “Since I’m not leaving here alive…” 

You freed the blade and brought it down onto the hand of the man beside you, pinning it to the desk. He screamed and you grabbed his blaster from its holster before you yanked your knife free of his hand and the wood and jammed it into his neck, pulling it forward through the sinew and flesh until the wound was gaping and your knife was free. 

“That’s for Naboo,” you hissed, leveling the gun at the general as the man slumped forward, dead. 

The door hissed and you immediately dropped down, putting the dead man’s body between you and the troopers. 

“Find who she’s with,” the general demanded, sounding almost bored as he went for the door. “Take her alive.” 

Alive. Alive was a window. A chance to escape, they’d be trying to stun you or go for non-lethal targets. Alive you could work with. 

The troopers moved for you and you retrained the man’s gun on them, firing. They shot back, hitting the lifeless man you were using as a shield. The general was getting too much of a head start so you decided to risk it, standing to get a better shot. An almost eerie sense of calm took hold and you held the foreign blaster comfortably, downing all four troopers in seconds, your last shot landing just as one of their blaster bolts connected with your shoulder, sending you sprawling. 

You gritted your teeth and forced yourself up, yanking the com from your pocket. 

“Mando!” You said quickly. “Need evac, north side of town, I’m bringing company.” 

You stopped on your way out, grabbing your rifle and blaster, ditching the unfamiliar one on the stairs. 

Shadrin moved fast for a man who was on the wrong side of 60, heading, you were sure, for more allies. You got close enough and fired, aiming for his legs. Your second shot made contact, sending the man sprawling into the sand. People started emerging and you kept your weapon trained on the general. Someone stepped out to intervene but you shot at their feet. 

“Back off,” you snapped. “Next shot kills you.” 

They retreated and you reached Shadrin just as he’d pushed himself up to his hands and knees. You grabbed him by the back of the neck, pressing your blaster to the man’s skull. 

“They’d like you alive,” you said, breathing heavily. “But I’d like you dead. Give me a reason.” 

You kept the weapon to his head and your head on a swivel, watching for other threats. You caught a flash of white armor out of the corner of your eye and you aimed the blaster, dropping the trooper where he stood, continuing forward toward the north entrance of the outpost as quickly as you could, the general’s neck still tightly in your grip. You pressed your blaster to his head again.

The Crest passed overhead as you cleared the street you’d started on, the edge of the outpost in sight. The Mandalorian set the ship down and lowered the ramp, running to the end of it, blaster drawn. A bolt flew past your head from behind you and you ducked on instinct, Mando firing behind you as he ran for you, putting himself between you and whatever was coming for you. You heard the shots hit his beskar, the sound staying close to you. You threw a look over your shoulder. He was walking backwards, firing on the gathering Imperials, as you made it to the ramp. 

“Kill them!” The man in your grip screamed, as though that would make a difference. You tightened your hold and dragged him up the ramp, throwing him on the floor of the hold, keeping your blaster on him as you slammed the ramp button. The gate closed and Din ran for the cockpit, the general looking around in disbelief. You smiled. 

“We were talking about your plan, General?” 

***

Din wasn’t sure he’d taken a full breath between the time you’d called him and the time he set the jump for Nevarro. He all but ran for the hatch, sliding down the ladder into the hold instead of taking it step by step. You were there, blood at your shoulder, a man in a general’s uniform at your feet. 

“Found him,” you said, looking up at Din, still breathing heavily but smiling, smug. 

“Good,” the Mandalorian said. You turned your gaze back to the man at your feet. 

“Think your friend needs help pulling information from him?” You asked, your head cocked. 

“You’ll never get a word out of me,” he growled. You smiled, crouching low, grabbing him by the hair. 

“I like a challenge.” 

Din picked up the man by the collar and hauled him to the carbonite chamber, throwing him in. 

“We can make a deal,” he said quickly. 

“Shut up,” Mando said, pushing the button. He looked up, looking for you. You were standing at the entry to the carbonite chamber and the moment you saw the freezing process begin, you slumped into the door. 

“Doll,” he went for you and your threw your arms around his neck, clutching yourself to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his fingers clinging to you, holding you tightly to his chest. 

“I thought I was dead,” you were breathless, sobbing into him. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again…” 

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, just feeling you in his arms. “I’ve got you.” 

He wasn’t sure how long he held you like that. He couldn’t bring himself to let you go. His hands adjusted, one arm going tighter around your waist, holding you closer, the other going to your head to press you against him. He knew he needed let you go. There’d been blood on you. But he needed to keep holding you, touching you, feeling that you were alive and back with him where you belonged. 

“Were you hurt?” He asked eventually, your cheek still pressed against his beskar. 

“Shot in the shoulder,” you said softly, sniffling a bit. He was able to pull back from you then, his hand going for your injury. “I think that’s it, it’s not bad. Were you?” 

“I’m fine,” he said, his hand moving from your shoulder to your face. You pressed your cheek into his palm, taking a shuddering breath. “Let’s get you fixed up, come on.” 

He kept his hands on you as you both went to the galley. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stand to have you any further away than that. Din helped you onto the counter, standing between your legs, and you shrugged your shirt down, exposing the injury. It was a rough shot, close range and dead on. If it had hit you much lower, you’d be dead. His heart clenched at the thought. 

“I’ll need to cauterize it,” he said. “Don’t have bacta right now…” 

“It’s OK,” you nodded and smiled a little, meeting his eyes below the helmet. “You’ve fixed me up from worse.” 

He removed his gloves and cleaned the wound, you wincing as he did. Once the cauterizer was ready, he guided your hand to his side. 

“When it hurts, give it to me,” he said, brushing your hair back. You nodded, eyes closed. He pulled your forehead to the cool metal of his. “Deep breath, Doll…” you obeyed and he pressed the cauterizer to your shoulder. You hissed and squeezed his side and he held onto the back of your head, keeping you close before pulling the cauterizer away. 

“I’m OK,” you said after a moment, nodding against him and opening your eyes. He released you and you leaned back, giving him space to check the wound. It was closed now. His bare thumb traced the uninjured flesh of your shoulder before going to your face. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, your lips brushing the base of his palm. He watched you for a moment, the desperate, screaming need to be closer to you winning out over his better judgement. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said softly. You nodded into him. He slowly pulled his hand from you, watching you as he did, your eyes shut tight, brows drawn together in a slightly confused frown. He eased the helmet off his head, setting it down beside you on the counter. Your fingers brushed the cool metal and you jumped a little but your eyes stayed closed. 

Din took your face in his hands and softly, slowly, pressed his lips to your forehead. Your breath caught but you stayed still, the scent of you filling him as he held you. 

“Breathe, Doll,” he said quietly, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. You obeyed, eyes still closed. He slowly, cautiously, moved his mouth lower, softly brushing against yours. Your arms hesitantly went around his neck, loosely wrapping around him. He pulled you slightly closer, lips fully meeting yours. You kissed him back, holding him tighter. His mouth moved with yours, his tongue dipping into you, tasting you, exploring you, and you moaned quietly against him. Your hands found his hair, wrapping your fingers in it, and he stilled against you, his lips against you. He reluctantly pulled back from you, his nose still brushing yours, his forehead still against you. You were breathing the same air, so close it was almost painful. 

“Din,” you said softly, fingers still in his hair. He kissed your forehead again before replacing the helmet. He brushed your eyelids with this thumbs and you opened them, slowly, keeping your head tilted toward the ground. He lifted your chin, wanting to look in your eyes. 

“You need rest, Doll,” he said quietly. You just nodded. The Mandalorian put a bandage over the wound. He stepped back from you but, before you could jump down from the counter, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you to his quarters. He set you gently on the bed and pulled off his armor, leaving his helmet on, before climbing in beside you. You immediately wrapped around him and he held you against him and he felt you relax into him. It was almost like you needed him as much as he needed you.

[pixlpxie]

Hi Pixie!

I'd like to thank you for your openness about sexual things, needs and fantasies, as it greatly helped me accept my own sexual side.

I've always had quite high libido, I get aroused easily and I've always been really into porn, my friends also know me to be "the pervy friend" just based on my humour and general horniness, but even though it's something I can laugh at, I still often feel shame at myself and at the feelings I have.

The feeling that I shouldn't be having these thoughts, that I am somehow flawed and disgusting, that there's something wrong with me because I am so "feral", it just wouldn't leave me alone and it was something I was extremely embarrassed by and I feared that people would find me to be some deranged sexual lunatic.

I went through sexual abuse in my childhood, and accepting that side of me has always been really hard, but you've helped me a lot - to realise that such things are normal and there's nothing shameful about them. That this is all perfectly natural, that it doesn't make me disgusting or wrong or tainted to have sexual needs, that I am allowed to explore kinks and take pleasure from fantasies.

So for that, thank you so much.

I'm sorry for the long message and oversharing, but it always goes through my mind when I see the anon hate you get, people calling you disgusting and such and how effortlessly you shoot them down and laugh at them, absolutely unapologetic.

I wish all those people realised that it's extremely important to have spaces where you can comfortably share these feelings and thoughts, that it should be normalised to talk about sex and sexual needs and that the taboo of it isn't right, especially when it comes to female pleasure. Purity culture isn't cute and women are also people with needs.

Spaces like this help people realise that they aren't wrong or broken for their natural instincts, whether they've been brought up in religious circles or went through abuse, what you're doing on your platform is important to many who thought they were alone in these feelings and feared to talk about it, because they were afraid they would be called weird and disgusting for having a functional body that demands certain things that are natural and healthy.

Thank you very much <3

Ok let me go cry real quick and ill be back 😮‍💨

I had to read this a few times because i usually cant see what i do here as something that could help people so reading this was so valuable, truly it means the world to me. First of all I'm so sorry for what happened to you, you didn't deserve any of that and I hope you are doing well know 🥺💓 you will do even better 🥹🫶🏻

Having a high libido, different sexual desires and needs are totally normal but even to this day it's treated like a taboo like you said. And trust me i know how it feels like to be that pervy friend, it's exactly like the way you described. Almost in every social group im the one who's too much, too freaky, or too 'different'. My friends are so fun and you can always talk abt pervy stuff with them sure but at the end of the day I am always the weird one because usually i know or say stuff that get them a little horrified. Its all fun and games till it starts to get to you, I had to sit down and think why I am the way I am many times because like you said, something must have been wrong with me. Because why would I enjoy things that my friends don't?

Turns out everything's fine and you shouldn't really bother knowing why. It's okay, it's normal, in fact it's healthy. So the hate I get seems so childish to me and honestly it's fun atp. Sex and kinks are natural, they're human. Everyone will enjoy different things, some will like it more plain and simple while some will like more kinky things. You're not disgusting for enjoying things that the majority don't. Sexuality is fluid and endless, you will keep exploring it throughout your entire life and be as fierce as you can while doing it🫶🏻

Like I said, I am usually unable to comprehend the effect my blog has on people but reading your ask and other similar ones make me feel so many emotions. I never thought my blog would be a safe space for you guys 🥹 Please know that you are always welcome on this blog, we can talk about anything you want and I'll always try my best to help you. And please don't ever be sorry for 'oversharing' or writing 'long' asks bc trust me it's not oversharing or long for me. I love being here with you guys and I hope you know that you mean so much to me🥹😭💓

[igotanidea]

Worst thing: Dick Grayson x f!reader

Inspired by the song: Worst Thing by NOTD & Kenzie

Warning: inuendo, some action but nothing too explicit, in this case Dick is a bit out of character (just for the sake of it)

Life was too much lately. We were constantly on a mission or a patrol or busy with work or investigating or doing whatever shit our hero mentors had going on. I needed a break and I guess so did Dick. Passing by each other was no good for our relationship, any relationship actually since it had destroyed a couple of mine in the past. Or at least I was telling myself that the reason was behind my double life. The truth however was slightly different. It just every time someone tried to get close to me, hold me or kiss me or touch me, I saw his face in front of my eyes. God damn, Dick Grayson!

I wish we never met sometimes

'Till I'm with another ex, and I

Forget that you're the best sometimes

He was a wolf, no one could deny it. The list of his ex-girlfriends was miles long and yet he could never kept any of them for long. I always wondered why, to be honest. It’s not like he didn’t want a real relationship. I saw it in his eyes when he was looking at me. I saw it in his action we were fighting alongside each other or even when we were spending nights talking about life or just sitting in silence. He wanted someone to care for and love and someone who will reciprocate to him with the same amount of love. He shouldn’t have to carry all the burden on his shoulder, alone and I was trying my best to show him that he had people around. That he had me around. As a friend, of course. I never got the guts to tell him the truth of how I really felt.

Wonder if I'm in your head 'cause I hate this

And I hate that, you're making me say this

Cause I ain't one to say this but

 Our friendship consisted of understatements and restraints. Judging from the time perspective I believe we were pushing each other apart because we were scared of letting someone in and then losing that person or seeing them hurt. And because we were afraid of showing any sign of vulnerability. We trusted each other but confessing true feelings was a one-way ticket way. It was easier to be just teammates. Bruce used to insist that we were training together but that was just it. Nothing more.

We claim we're better off apart

Pretend that we don't get along

At least up to some point.

Like I mentioned, we were good working together, so when another mission and investigation in another city came up it was natural choice that the team voted for the detective and an CSI agent to lead it.

“Ready to go, Grayson?” I asked grabbing my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and walking towards the elevator. Why was he standing like this, eyes open, feet rooted to the ground? “Dick?” I waved my hand in front of his face and he blinked rapidly, out of his Robin instincts grabbing my wrist “Are you sure you are capable of joining me? You seem a bit cuckoo….”

“Joining you? Oh, Y/N. You know well enough I am the leader here.” He smirked and finally moved to follow me out. “You are just a support, not the other way round.”

“Mhm, sure.” I muttered “We’ll see how that goes when we will have to actually talk to people, not beat the shit out of them”

“I can talk to people.”

“Sure, you can Dickie, sure you can” I rolled my eyes smiling lightly at the reminder of his last talk. “But only if we have to deal with tall, blonde policewoman or female agent.”

“You are a female agent….” He pointed out

“Thanks for noticing, genius.” I grinned “I feel flattered that those jeans does not make me look like a butch. Now….” When we got out of the Titans tower I instinctively moved towards the driver side of the car but he yanked me back onto the pavement, causing a little crash between his chest and mine “Ouch….” I whined

“First of all, you have almost walked right in front of a motorcycle so you’re welcome. Second, you are not going to drive my car”

“ Oh, come on Don’t go all man-like on me. What is it with guys and their cars?”

“I’m driving. That’s not up for discussion.”

“all right then. But I’m in charge of the playlist?”

“This is not a field trip Y/N. We’re on a mission. We should discuss what and how we are going to do. Music will be a distraction. Now, get in.“

“Just this once, Grayson. Let’s settle on the fact that work is important, I get it” I moved inside the car and relaxed into the comfortable seat, stretching my legs out “but I also know you are going to go full instinct, so why the talk, hm?”

He didn’t; respond, so in the end we ended up not talking and not listening to any music, just driving in complete silence.  Everything went surprisingly smoothly and within a couple of hours we were done with our little intel ready to go back.

Well, the way back was more of a bumpy ride.

When we were driving through the forest, the car suddenly died on the roadside. With one sharp tug and a bit of coughing coming from the engine we were estranged far from home.

But would it be the worst thing

If your car wouldn't start up

 “Is your precious porche going to the dogs?” I asked unmoved by what was going on “could you try to relight the engine?”

“I am. It’s not working.”

“Ok, then. I guess you probably forgot to fuel up, too busy with ordering me around as usual.”

“Y/N…..”

“Should we call the team to come and rescue us? It’s getting late and dark.” I stretched my back a bit, pointing towards the horizon where the sun was setting behind the trees. “however the view is breathtaking” I smiled a bit, admiring the landscape. I was always a forest creature.

“Y/N.” Dick turned his gaze towards me and as I look into his eyes it was like an electric shock. All I saw in his eyes was just a bit too much and I felt my cheeks flush, desperately trying to take control of the situation.

“Did you plan this?” I asked, perplexed as he leaned towards me over the gearbox, one of his hands finding mine, the other cupping my cheek and I moved towards his touch, too consumed by his closeness to be embarrassed.

“Maybe.”

“So what are you going to do now, Robin? Murder me? Bury me in the ground so no one could find me and you could blame my poor skills for the mission failure? Or….””

“Or what? He asked, his eyes landing on my lips, face inches from mine and I felt his breath on my cheek, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, gently, lovingly.

“Or are you going to kiss me?” I panted, my breath fastened with all the emotions I felt at the moment as all of a sudden I became braver than usually.

We had to fog up the windows

When it gets dark

Just to keep us warm.

“would it be the worst thing?” he muttered and crossed the distance between us, both of his hands closing in on my waist pulling me closer. Honestly, despite his skillful lips and my blurry mind caused by the sensation he was giving me, making out while still siting on two different seats was a bit uncomfortable and it wasn’t helping that our hands and bodies wanted to feel every inch of each other.

“Come here” Dick whispered, breaking the kiss for a while, grabbing me by my hips and carefully placing on his lap “I want you closer to me.”

“Good thing we agree on something” I smiled against his lips “but I though the car was your temple?”

“It is. And that’s why I needed you on this mission with me. We had no time or space to talk and clarify things in the Tower. Too many people around….” His mouth moved onto my neck, gently sucking there, probably leaving hickeys that would be impossible to cover. Well, I couldn’t care less.

“And are we talking now?” I moaned softly as his hands sneaked under my shirt “you’re cold!”

“Well, not for long. Not with you baby.”

Due to some magical power I was not aware of, he was soon shirtless, helping me out of my T-shirt, wanting to feel my skin against his. God! I loved those strong arms, making me feel so safe, even if we were in the middle of the wild forest, at complete darkness where every possible psycho could just come at us. I knew if it ever came to that he would protect me. Not Robin. Dick. My Dick Grayson. My boy, I was in love (and in denial of it) for so long. I loved his scared chest, so broad and toned. I loved his eyes, the way he looked at me through those amazing eyelashes. I loved his tousled black hair and his cheeks and his possessiveness and recklessness. I loved how he made me lose control and just give in to the moment. I loved  him all. Good and bat traits. And I loved how he was the one to walk that tightrope between our inhibitions. What else can you expect from an acrobat, right? His skin was a bit rough but soft at the same time, and satisfying his previous words, he was now so warm. I felt his pulse rising as I locked my hands on his neck, playing with the hair on his nape, wanting more of him.

 Judging by his hold on me, he was pretty much immersed with the same feeling.

“I love you” he whispered, now kissing my chest.

“are you going to act on it?” I whined impatiently    

“No, baby. This is just taste of what I can give you. This not the place to go full-on. I respect you too much for that”

“What? Dick…..” I arched my back trying to change his mind

“Y/N…..” he sighed heavily “don’t.”

“Why not? You started this.”

“I can’t really see you objecting, baby.”

“that’s the point!” I hissed “I don’t want you to hold back and …..”

“Trust me, I’ll give you anything you want. But…. I want to do it in more appropriate environment” he whispered in my ear, causing a shiver run down my spine. “Just imagine what’s coming for you.”

“Dick……” I moaned desperately, knowing I already lost this fight.

 “Sush, End of discussion. Now rest.” he winded the seat down making me lay my head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. It wasn’t slow and definitely wasn’t calming at first, but soon became steady and much to my disappointment I started to drift off.

“Dickie….” I chuntered

“Yes, baby?” thank god for his flexibility that allowed him to reach to the backseat and gather a blanket to cover my half-exposed figure and a bit of himself

“You really planned this, didn’t you?” I giggled, my breath tickling his chest

“I did.” He sighed, holding me tighter. I felt like a baby, loved, secure, safe with him. Someone was looking over me and being taken care of was such a good feeling……

“I love you, Grayson……”

Wondering where the hell have we been?

And would it be the worst thing if we both fell asleep

Woke up to twenty calls each

 When I opened my eyes again I was tangled in Dick’s arms as even in his sleep he was holding me steady. I tried to move as carefully as I possibly could, extremely sore, but still I didn’t manage to avoid waking him.

“Morning Y/N” he grinned and those sleepy eyes, still a bit blurry with the rest of the dream and hoarse voice made my heart swell. “Did you sleep well? Why are you crying?” he became awake in an instant “did I hurt you?” his alerted voice make me cry a bit more and he was quick to wipe all the tears “Y/N? Look at me. What happened?”

“Those are good tears, Dick. I just….I just feel a lot right now and I’m not sure how to process it all.”

“Well that’s a change from the randy girl from last night” he mocked and I lifted the corners of my mouth lightly

“Well, look what you are doing to me, Richard Grayson.” I looked him straight into the eyes “can we just stay here? In our bubble? I don’t want to go back to the tower….”

“I would love to, but we may be in trouble….”

“How so?” I raised an eyebrow and he handed me our phones. Twenty unanswered call… Each. “Oh, shit…. What do we tell them?”

“That we had the most fulfilling, additional eight hours of investigation” he grinned and I hit his arm, probably hurting myself more than Dick.

If it means that we'd have eight more hours alone

Or even if we never make it home

I guess that wouldn't be the worst thing

“Really? That’s what you going to tell Bruce?”

“I can just admit I finally got you all for myself….”

“Dick!!”

“What?”

“I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing” I smiled and not able to help myself any longer kissed him, enjoying those last minutes of peace between us, before the search and rescue.

@somest1 @pinksirensong

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter Five

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Content/Warnings: ANGST! M*gan F*x being toxic, swearing, protective Col

Megan stans don't come for me. I really don't give a shit.

Presley

I sleep in late the next day. It’s not like I have any reason to get up early. Colson has encouraged me to just enjoy some time off and not work. Normally, I’d argue with him and get a job anyway, but he’s right. I’ve been working since I was old enough to have a job and I haven’t really taken a break since. My body and my mind need the rest.

I sprawl out in our huge bed and take a cleansing breath. It’s so nice living here with Colson. I thought I enjoyed being alone, but it turns out I like being with Colson more. I still can’t believe this is my life. If you were to tell me six months ago I’d be where I am now, I would’ve laughed in your face. It still feels too good to be true, but I’m just trying to be grateful for every moment.

After waking up slowly, I roll over and grab my phone off the nightstand. I notice I have a text from Colson and I open it immediately. Hey gorgeous. Come visit me at the studio if you feel like it. Take whatever car you want. Love you.

I smile and love-react to his message, sending back a loving one of my own. My heart flutters at everything this man says to me. I hope I always react this way to him. I swipe back to my texts to see that I have one from an unsaved number. My brow furrows as I start to read it and my veins go icy when I comprehend what I’m reading.

Hi Presley. This is Megan, Colson’s ex. Someone gave me your number. I always said he shouldn’t have trusted his inner circle so much. Can we talk?

I have no idea what to say. I read it through three times before locking my phone and setting it aside. My first instinct was to take a screenshot and send it to Colson, but I don’t want to bother him while he’s working, especially with messages about his toxic ex that messed him up. Colson has told me a little more as time has gone on. Megan was honestly emotionally abusive toward him. She blamed him for any issue in their relationship, made him seem like a horrible partner, and was all around super shady. I don’t trust her in the slightest, and I don’t like that someone gave her my number. I need to figure out who it is.

Tell me who gave you my number and we can talk.

I’ll never reveal my sources. You’ll have to figure that out on your own. 

A few minutes go by before she messages me again. 

I’m going to be nice because I feel like I need to warn you. Your aura is nice and Colson’s is dark. Be careful. He’s going to make you seem like the bad guy. Just watch out for yourself, babe. 

I’m fuming. I want to tell her to go fuck herself, to leave me the hell alone and to never, ever call me babe again. But I force myself to take some deep breaths. I’m not texting her back. That much I know for sure. I don’t need her bullshit warnings. I trust my boyfriend wholeheartedly and I believe every word he says about her. 

The rest of the day, I’m on edge. I work out until I’m pouring sweat, trying to ease my mind. I take a long shower, making sure to shave and exfoliate and moisturize and all the important things. When I still feel like a disaster, I grab a set of keys and take off toward the studio.

I text Colson, who comes right outside to get me. I watch as his tall frame lopes out into the sunlight and I can’t help but smile. Being around him always makes me feel better, no matter what. He looks perfect in his sweats and t-shirt, a hat backwards on his head. His little smile when he sees me makes my tummy flip. I get out of the car and let him scoop me into his arms.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs into my hair. “Mm, you smell so good.”

“Thank you,” I say, closing my eyes as I breathe his scent in, too. I relax just a little bit more in his arms. It’s hard to feel stressed when Colson is holding me. 

He sets me on my feet and grins at me. He’s excited; I can tell by the gleam in his eyes. “Wanna come hear what we’ve been working on?” he asks.

I make myself perk up, smiling brightly. “Sure!” Colson grins and offers his hand. I lace our fingers together and let him lead me into the studio.

Slim is the only one there and he nods to me. “Hey, Pres.”

“Hey, Slim!” I greet, bending to hug him where he sits in his chair. 

“Alright, Slim, run it back,” Colson commands. He’s so cute, like a golden retriever eager to show you his new toy. Slim wastes no time in pushing play. “Babe, you’ll never guess who we got to be on the song.”

“Who?” I ask.

Colson grins. “Oliver fucking Sykes.”

My gasp and shock are genuine. “Seriously?”

Colson nods quickly. “Seriously. Isn’t that fucking crazy? This song’s gonna be the hardest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Ight, now shut up so she can hear it,” Slim tells him with a chuckle. Colson holds up his hands and goes quiet as Slim starts the song over.

I listen as the music starts and I already like it. As soon as it goes into the chorus, I can’t help but move, nodding my head and swaying a little. He’s right, the song goes hard. It’s amazing, a little darker than what I heard on TTMD, and I love it. 

“That’s what we have so far, but Oli will do the second verse,” Colson says as Slim turns off the song.

“Guys, that’s amazing!” I gush, meaning it. “God, I’m so excited for this album.”

“Shit, me too,”  Colson agrees. 

“Alright, bro, I gotta go,” Slim says, getting to his feet. “You need anything else?”

“Nah, man, thanks,” Colson says, giving Slim a hug. Slim waves at me and heads off, leaving Colson and me alone in the studio. All at once, the anxiety returns. We need to talk about it, but I don’t want to kill his good mood.

Colson saunters over to me and slides his hands over my shoulders, looking down at me. “How’s my girl?” he asks quietly. “You seem a little tense.”

I shrug and smile weakly. “I’m fine,” I lie.

Colson gives me a look that says, be fucking for real. I sigh and hang my head, but he just cups my chin so I have to look at him. “Baby,” he says. “You can talk to me.”

I shift on my feet. “I don’t want to ruin this,” I say, gesturing vaguely to the studio.

“It’s fine,” Colson says, shaking his head. He puts a hand on my lower back and guides me to the couch where we sit side by side, his body angled toward mine. “I’ll be fine. I want to know what’s bugging you.” Worried blue eyes search mine and I sigh, taking out my phone. I open up the thread of messages and hand it to Colson. I don’t look at him while he reads. I can’t bear to watch the moment his good mood descends into anger or irritation or anxiety or whatever those texts might conjure. 

“What the fuck is this shit?” Colson mutters.  

“Is that really her?” I ask. “Not a fake number?”

Colson shakes his head. “No, this is definitely her,” he says. “Who the fuck shared your number with her? That’s what pisses me off most of all.”

“Really?” I ask.

Colson nods. “This behavior from her ass doesn’t surprise me. I wonder if she texted me.” He gets up and grabs his phone. He had notifications silenced for everyone but me, but when he turns the setting off, sure enough, there are messages from her. He angles the phone so we can both read.

You moved on. Never thought you’d actually do it.

Does she know who you really are? Does she know you’re not actually ready for a monogamous commitment?

Be careful. She seems like a sweet girl.

Colson looks ready to explode. He locks his phone and then, out of nowhere, heaves it hard at the glass separating our room from the recording studio. I jump, startled, and look at him with wide eyes. “Colson.”

He gets to his feet and paces the room like a wild animal, fury radiating off him. He tears his hands through his hair, not even caring or noticing when his hat topples to the floor. “Why can’t she just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Col,” I say quietly, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. It’s almost like he forgot I’m here. My heart beats louder and I twist my fingers nervously. I don’t like seeing him this angry. 

“Who the fuck gave her your number?” Colson snaps.

“Colson, I don’t know!” I snap back, voice high with fear, and it’s what finally breaks Colson out of his dark moment.

His face softens and he rushes to me, crouching down to be at my level. “Hey,” he says gently, cupping my face. “I’m sorry, baby.” His thumbs gently stroke back and forth over my cheeks. “I’m sorry. She gets under my skin, and I hate traitors. I hate that someone betrayed our trust and gave her your number.” 

“It’s okay,” I say weakly, but Colson shakes his head, jaw clenching.

“It’s not okay, Presley,” he says firmly. “You should never have received messages like those. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I scoff. “None of this is your fault.”

Colson just shakes his head and then sighs, hanging his head. His hands are hot on my shoulders and he’s shaking a little. I know losing Megan was hard, but I didn’t expect him to still harbor this much anger. Is he angry because she still affects him? Because she has my number and someone betrayed us? All of the above? My head is starting to hurt.

“I’m going to reach out to her,” Colson says, meeting my eyes. Nerves spike in me but Colson just strokes my cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise. I’m going to tell her ass off and make her tell me who gave her your number.” 

“You don’t have to if it’s going to be hard talking to her again,” I say quietly. “I don’t want you to have to deal with this all over again.”

“Well, now that she brought you into it, it’s my problem all over again,” Colson says firmly. “No one messes with my girl. Goddamn condescending text messages. I can’t stand her.”

“Do you want me to respond? To ask her to leave me alone?” I ask.

Colson shakes his head. “Don’t talk to her. Block her number,” he says. “I don’t want her talking to you. She’s so toxic.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

Colson sighs and sits beside me again, wrapping an arm around me. “I love you, Pres,” he mutters, kissing my head. “I’m sorry this is happening and I’m sorry for my reaction.”

“I understand, baby,” I say honestly. “I know this brings up old shit for you.” 

Colson’s jaw works. “I don’t miss her or this shit. Not at all,” he mutters. “I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Okay,” I say. Colson watches me for a second and then presses his lips to mine, kissing me soft and slow. I relax in his arms and he seems to relax in mine. I trust him. He’ll figure it out. 

Colson

I feel like the worst boyfriend in the world as I drive to my destination. I made a choice today, and I hope it’s the right one.

After Megan messaged me and Presley, I waited a while to text her back. Before Presley, I would’ve reacted instantly and said a lot of things I would regret. I waited until the next morning to text her. At first, I demanded she tell me who gave her Presley’s number, and Megan, manipulative as always, told me that if I talked to her in person, she’d tell me. The catch is that Presley isn’t allowed to come with me. Knowing Pres, she’s not going to let that happen.

So I didn’t tell her.

I wipe sweat from my brow, my anxiety a heavy rock in my stomach as I drive out of the city. I’m meeting Megan at a private beach I know. It needs to be private because if anyone takes pictures of us, I’m fucked. But meeting somewhere this private makes me feel even worse about hiding this from my girlfriend. 

I’ll tell her after it’s all over. I’ll ask forgiveness rather than permission. We’ll see how that works out for me.

Megan’s already there when I pull onto the secluded dirt road. I find her car already parked, her surgically modified body propped against the hood. Her arms are crossed over her huge chest and I can tell she’s trying to look sexy. I swallow bile that’s risen in my throat.

I park and hop out of the car, ready to get this over with. “Megan,” I say, leaning against the hood of my own car and mimicking her body language.

She looks me up and down with those eyes that used to melt me. “Buddha. No hug?”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice is quiet but seething. “You lost all right to call me that when you fucked me over.”

Megan clucks her tongue and rolls her eyes, flicking her hair off her shoulder. “Oh, please. You knew what we were.”

I open my mouth to fight back but then think better of it. There’s no point fighting. We’re not here to make up. “Who gave you my girl’s number?” I ask, jumping right to the point.

Megan cocks her head to the side and pouts mockingly. “Aw, your girl. So cute.” She pushes off the car and takes a few steps closer to me. I stay exactly where I am. “We’re going to talk, and then I’ll tell you.”

“Why did you lie to Presley?” I ask. “You know I’m a good dude.”

Megan snickers. “I know. But it convinced you to talk to me, didn’t it?” she asks, looking up at me under her lashes. She’s trying to seduce me. That much is obvious. But where it used to turn me on, now it makes me slightly nauseous. I don’t know what I ever saw in her. 

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask tightly.

Megan sizes me up. Her eyes flick to mine. “Do you love her?” she asks.

I’m a little caught off guard by her question, but I clear my throat and nod. “I do.”

Some emotion flashes across Megan’s face for a split second before it’s replaced by her calm demeanor once again. “Cute.”

“What’s the point of this, Megan?” I ask, throwing up my hands in exasperation. 

Megan sniffs, and her confidence falls away. She clears her throat and glances self-consciously to the side. “I messed up,” she says finally, voice soft.

“What?” I ask, leaning forward a little.

“I messed up,” she says louder, meeting my eyes. “I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted.” She takes a step closer and tentatively places her hands on my chest. “I know what I want now, Buddha. It’s you.”

I grab her wrists and shove her hands off of me, then move around the side of my car, putting distance between us. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I balk. “I just told you I’m in love with Presley.”

“Oh, Presley,” she says mockingly, face scrunching up in disgust. “There’s no way she measures up to me and you know it.”

“You know nothing,” I growl. “This,” I say, gesturing between the two of us, “is not happening ever again. I’m marrying Presley someday. Got that? So tell me who the fuck told you and we can end this.”

“It was her fucking brother!” Megan snaps. She doesn’t usually break. She was always cool, calm, and collected, one of her many manipulation strategies, always making me look like the crazy one when I got emotional. 

My veins turn to ice. “Cash told you?” I ask. 

Her smirk is one of satisfaction. She surprised me and she knows it. “Sure did.”

“Explain,” I say tightly.

“I told you I’d tell you who,” she says, shrugging, “not what happened.”

I stare at her for a second, shake my head and scoff, and open my door. “Bye, Megan. Don’t ever reach out to me or my girlfriend ever again.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” she says, and her voice actually wobbles. I stiffen and look over at her. Fuck. I hate making people cry. But then I look at her, really look at her, and remember the way she made me feel. I remember just how fucking low I was all because of her. 

With that, I smirk, look her up and down critically, and scoff. “Nah. You’re the one who made a mistake.” And then, I’m gone.

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @jaxbreaker @mgklove99xx @jinx-on-mars-19xx @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @missamericanaxx @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu