#I’ve already finished my period so it can’t be that

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

Taglist:-- @livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777 (Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

[fortheloveoffanfic]

What if this is the last time I see you?

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: I'm sorry that I haven't finished one angsty story before forcing another onto you. But this one is shorter, I promise.

Summary: A chance run-in between exes at the farmers market leaves Andrew wondering if he’ll be okay never seeing Y/n again. Part 1 of 2.

Warnings: ANGST

At first, Andrew thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him. But the longer he stares, the more it makes sense – and the more it makes sense, the more he is convinced. A pop-up farmers market, a fruit vendor selling an assortment of brightly coloured, sure-to-be sweet, freshly picked fruit. Or so he says.

She’s wearing a jacket that he swears he’s seen before, but it could’ve very well been on a mannequin in a store front and not in her closet – or on her body.

But he’s certain that its her. She’s carrying the basket in a way that’s all too familiar. She’s looking at strawberries and those are her favorite in the summer. It must be her.

So it must be divine intervention that he drove past the farmers market and decided to stop, because Andrew usually gets his produce at the grocery store, on the occasion that he’s home for long enough to do his own shopping.

Setting down the bright, glossy apple he’d been holding onto for a criminally long period, he inches towards her little section of the booth, debating what he should say. ‘Hi’ doesn’t feel like enough, but he fears that if he takes a chance with anything more he might stomp all over their impromptu reunion. He doesn’t want to be too much;

What a funny thought, he thinks. Considering the whole reason for their end was because he wasn’t enough.

Well, that might be a bit of an unfair distribution of blame. He’s pretty good at playing the victim where the demise of their relationship is concerned.

By the time he reaches her, Y/n has already placed a few strawberries into a plastic baggie and is looking for a few more to round off her purchase. And he settles on the very measly and shamefully uneventful; “hey.”

Surprised, Y/n jumps slightly and twists to face him, eyes going wide. “Andy, oh my gosh, hey.” She hesitates for a moment before reaching out for a hug that becomes quite a clumsy endeavor. They don’t seem to know each other as well as they used to; he can’t tell if she’s reaching for his neck or midsection, so their limbs get tangled in a strange manner. “Sorry,” she mumbles bashfully when the whole thing goes on for longer than any ‘I haven’t seen you in five years’ hug should take.

Shrugging off the unwarranted apology, Andrew stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans in an effort to keep himself from touching her again. “How have you been?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but his gaze drips to her left hand, looking for any sign of a ring. And when there isn’t one, he feels a knot in his chest loosen a little.

“I’ve been….” Y/n trails off, as if the question is the hardest one she’s been asked in a while. In some ways, she supposes it is. Is she supposed to lie to Andrew? Tell him she’s fine and happy and her life is going fantastically well when the truth is she hasn’t been able to scrub the memory of him from her mind and she still buys his favorite brand of tea because when it brews, the smell makes her house feel a little more like home. “I’ve been alright,” its something between the truth and any lie she can tell; she is alright. Alive and healthy, if only a little sad sometimes – but who isn’t, right? “You?”

Andrew fumbles with his words, he’s not sure why but the question feels almost taunting. Why would she throw that back to him? Why wouldn’t she just assume that she’s stowed the best of him into a box and taken it along with her? Everyone else sees it, they tell him he hasn’t looked the same since she left, that he talks differently and he’s truly a little depressing to be around sometimes. “I’m…..okay.” Just okay – not good, not bad, but somewhere in limbo, surviving.

At his response, Y/n nods absently. God, he wishes he knew what that meant. He wishes he still knew her well enough to know what anything she does means. There used to be things that only he understood about Y/n. There’s a version of her in his mind that still whispers in the dark, even if they’re the only people in the room, and ensures all the cutlery in the drawer is packed in the same direction. There’s a version of her that might have tilted her head at his response, and told him that she knows that ‘okay’ is never just ‘okay.’

But this is someone else, someone he doesn’t know. But he loves her anyway.

He’ll love every version of her. But at least he’s only lost one.

“You’re probably the last person I’d expect to run into, here especially,” but maybe she doesn’t really know him that well anymore. Maybe he goes to the farmer’s market every Sunday now and they’ve just been missing each other.

Maybe he goes with his girlfriend - a wife even -and right now she's at another vendor. She's going to be back soon. And she'll be beautiful and Y/n will think; no wonder he let me go so easily, because he knew there was better was out there.

Shaking off the unsettling thought, Y/n adds, “you used to get everything at the grocery store.”

“You used to grow everything yourself,” he notes, not maliciously though. It's really just an innocent observation; he wonders why she stopped.

“I guess…..we’ve changed,” Y/n muses, and a little sliver of her wonders if they’ve changed enough to make it work for a second time around.

“Not too much, I hope,” but what he really means to say is; ‘I hope we’re still the kind of people that can love each other.’ “Ehm,” he clears his throat softly, and finally gathers the courage to ask what he’d been thinking about since he discreetly examined her finger, “seeing anyone?”

What a question! Simultaneously, it makes her want to laugh and cry. “Not right now, no.” Of course, she’s seen other people since their break-up, but nothing ever sticks, and that might be because every man is now measured to Andrew; does it taste the same when they kiss her? Hold her hand the way he used to? Do they tell the same sort of jokes or thread their fingers through her hair before falling asleep? “What about you?”

Andrew waves his hand dismissively, “no one serious,” there isn't really anyone at all, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s a complete wreck and one more white lie can’t hurt.

“Good,” the word slips out almost without thought, and Y/n quickly shakes her head when Andrew arches a brow. He isn't supposed to know that she's relieved; that he just quashed one of her biggest fears - that there's another woman that knows him as well as she does, but couldn't love him half as much, “well....not good. Just you know….you’re good at being on your own,” he was pretty damn good on his own even when they lived in the same house, “so I’m sure you’re doing good,” god, she wishes she had stopped talking three minutes ago.

Hesitating, he bites his tongue as the urge to tell her that he's not okay and it's all her fault wells up. Didn’t she see the lie in his eyes when he said he was okay? Is he that much of a stranger to her now?

Again, Andrew shrugs halfheartedly, “I’ve been okay,” he repeats before pressing his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t trust himself to add anything more, because then he’ll say he still misses her and its been far too long for him to still be mourning an empty side of the bed and the sound of her laughter in the drawing room.

He shouldn’t still go into his home studio and still expect her to come trailing after him, armed with a book with the intention of curling up on the sofa that gets just the right amount of noon sun. He shouldn't miss the way she looks while humming along softly to what he's working on, blanket draped on her folded legs, hazy light washing her face - he shouldn’t have left her blanket there after all this time.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, because the more he does, the more he wants to tell her. Beg Y/n to come back – to take him back because he’s really only half himself without her.

“I should let you –”

“You probably have –”

“Sorry.” Another clumsy, awkward apology, this one in aching unison. There’s silence for a while, and Y/n tugs her lower lip between her teeth. In a way, it feels like they’ve been standing there for too long, at least, like this. Not knowing what to say to each other, with the nails of her free hand digging into her palm so she doesn’t reach out to touch his arm. It shouldn’t be like this, she never wanted them to come to this; reduced to two awfully familiar strangers. “I should um….I have to….go…” She goes to say home, but the word doesn’t come, “I gotta go, Andrew.”

Swallowing the lump that’s been caught in his throat since he first saw fifteen minutes earlier, Andrew nods stiffly. “Of course,” he breathes. The last thing he wants is for her to leave, but he doesn’t really have any right to keep her. “I’ll leave you to it.” They both nod that time, shy and unsure but no one leaves. Not immediately. His eyes stay matching hers, and there’s a hundred things weighing down the tip of his tongue, but clinging to it like molten sugar.

I'm sorry I let you walk out, I'm sorry about everything. I still keep your ring in my nightstand, just in case. My mom still asks about you. I should've been better, let you in and I know that now. I'd do it now. I'm actually horrible on my own now, because you've ruined me in the best way - and the worst. But he doesn't say any of it; the moment is long gone and his pride does a pretty good job at keeping him quiet.

A shuddered breath escapes her lips upon realizing that she actually hasn’t moved an inch; Y/n doesn’t think she can be the one to bring herself to leave this time. She doesn't want to turn her back to him again. So she lingers, and she swears roots are sprouting from the soles of her feet, keeping her in place, staring into his eyes because lost in them is suddenly the only place she wants to be.

“I should go,” he eventually determines, glancing away. Though, the minute he says it, Andrew is lashed with immediate regret; he does not want to go. He doesn’t want to leave, but he suspects that this time its entirely on him to turn around and walk away.

“Right, right,” Y/n blinks quickly, then, just as he’s about to turn, she interjects, if only for the purpose of holding him there a little longer, “it was really nice seeing you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, not right then. Though, when he turns away and starts retreating to the other end of the small tent, squinting his eyes at the midday sun, catching him square in the face, he pauses. Throwing a cautious backwards glance her way, he finds that Y/n has returned to picking out strawberries and on a whim, Andrew finally allows himself a singular moment of weakness – perhaps in a way of giving her what she’s wanted since their very last fight. “I’ve missed you,” he utters.

Y/n’s head snaps up just as she hands the bag over to the vendor for weighting, “what?” Her brows are furrowed and her lips are slightly agape.

Hating the sudden vulnerability that comes with those three little words, he shakes his head, “nothing. I’ll see you around,” he spares her a short wave, and she does the same.

After that, not a single word is traded between them again; Y/n pays, plops the bag into her basket, and walks off, and he watches her go. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as she weaves her way through the busy market, and there’s a strange sort of finality in the moment where the last inkling of her green jacket disappears.

What if he never sees her again? What if that moment, in that tent, surrounded by fruits honeyed by summer’s warmth and the bitter heartache of something unfinished, constitutes the last fifteen minutes they will ever share?

What if she’s gone from his life forever and he’s damned to an eternity spent looking at her pictures and never hearing her voice again? Wondering what she’s doing and if she’s finally moved on from him?

Can he survive it? Truly? Without feeling like a shell just being shuffled around by the wind?

Returning to the assortment of ruby-toned apples, he struggles to escape the onslaught in his mind and Andrew finds himself unable to choose any, not even one, so he goes with strawberries instead.

To be continued.....

[confused-wanderer]

Duke pavlovs everyone.

He wants to help out. He wants to give back. But what can he do? He can’t teach anything to them that they don’t already know. Heck, every time he tries offering help, by the time they finish saying what he could do, the problem ends up being solved anyways.

However, not anymore. He’s trying to listen and not speak, observe as is the detective way. And as the recent and relatively normal addition to the batfam, he comes to a startling conclusion.

None of them eat.

And by that, Duke doesn’t mean that they go without food because they survive without it, he means that they genuinely forget to eat for long periods of time due to stress, long hours or other factors, and since vigilate-ing has been more or less their whole lives, they’ve forgotten what hunger even feels like, unless they’re actively reminded of it.

So, every time Duke comes over, he mentions that he’s starving. Then he goes into great length to describe just how hungry it is and what he’s craving. Ten times out of ten, everyone’s stomachs start rumbling before the entire family stares at the fridge in hunger.

And little by little, he starts making sure they associate yellow with him, and him with hunger. Every time he visits he makes sure to always wear or bring something yellow with him. Rubber ducky, high lighter, you name it. He even leaves little trinkets around the house, insisting it’s to give a splash of colour.

And it fucking works.

The whole family is on a stakeout, Batman and Red Robin updating everyone in how it’s going when suddenly there’s a pause.

Nightwing: .. Guys? Hello?

Red Robin: .. uh-

Spoiler: ?? Hello?? Did your brain short circuit??

Red Robin: *soft mumbling*

Robin: ?? Father? Could you compensate for Drake’s incompetence again?

Batman: … The gang is wearing yellow.

Robin:

Nightwing:

Batman:

Spoiler:

Red Robin:

*Stomach grumbling noises echoing over comms*

Spoiler: alright I think we’ve seen enough, move in?

Nightwing: Yes please before I start eating my batons

Batman: I’ve bought a restaurant. We can eat there later. Move in on three.

Red Robin: why the fuck do I suddenly want to eat the sandwich someone just threw in the bin?

Red Hood : JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOU BETTER NOT YOU FUCKING UNHYGENIC BASTARD-

——————— later —————

At the mansion

Damian:

Duke:

Damian:

Duke: ? You need something

Damian: You. You did this to us.

Duke: LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE I DIDN’T THINK ANYONE WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO WEAR YELLOW IF THEY’RE TRYNA COMMIT CRIME AT NIGHT

[biblomaniac]

Supercorp headcanon:

The realization is almost startling. Kara hasn’t called her by her name in what seems to be a long time. They’ve seen each other nearly every day in the months following Alex and Kelly’s wedding, and yet Kara had said her given name only a handful of times, and only out in public.

Once Lena recognizes this curious phenomenon, she decides, as a scientist, that she needs empirical evidence to prove she hasn’t deluded herself into believing a fantasy. Over a two week period, Lena record dates, times, events, situations, and surrounding bystanders, and how each correlates to a different pet names from Kara.

By the end of the fortnite, the brunette has amassed a relatively large amount of data. Lena found that Kara called her:

Baby- 27 times

Babe- 15 times

Sweetheart- 10 times

Honey- 4 times

Lena is astounded to realize that:

1. She and Kara spend A LOT of time together; and

2. Kara has only called her by her name three times (two at The Foundation during a press conference, and one at CatCo when Lena dropped by to bring her favorite new Editor in Chief lunch.

Armed with proof, Lena plans to confront Kara when they meet tonight before game night. Unsurprisingly, Kara has already begun setting up snacks and games when Lena unlocks the door to what has become her shared apartment with Kara. Surprisingly, Lena didn’t have to find any sort of awkward segue to begin the conversation.

“Baby, what last game do you think we should set out for tonight? We played clue last week, but the last time we played monopoly it kind of got out of hand.”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘out of hand,’ Kara.”

“Babe, you bankrupted everyone and refused to end the game until Alex admitted you were the queen of monopoly. We do not need to have a repeat performance of that now that Esme will be coming.”

“Fine, let’s just play Candyland. Esme will enjoy it and she won’t have to struggle to keep up with the adults for this one.”

“Perfect idea, honey. Thanks for helping me pick,” Kara says as she finishes setting up and turns back around to face Lena.

Knowing there is no better opportunity than now, Lena asks if they can talk. If Kara swallows after she agrees, no one has to know. Lena leads Kara to the couch; they sit close enough to grasp hands if necessary but far enough to move their arms or legs without brushing against one another.

“Kara, why have you been calling me all these nicknames?”

“What do you mean? I’ve just been calling you by your name.”

It seems Lena didn’t factor in the possibility that Kara herself hadn’t realized she amassed such a large repertoire of pet names for Lena. A pink tinge crawls slowly up pale cheeks.

“Kar, you haven’t addressed me by my name outside of our jobs in months.”

“Okay, but we see each other every day. What have a been calling you?”

It seems Lena will have to shove her embarrassment in a little box so she can admit her findings to Kara.

“Well, you’ve… you’ve been calling me various terms of endearment.”

Kara chuckles at Lena’s overly formal response.

“Lee, just tell me what I’ve been calling you. It can’t be offensive, or you’d have brought this up ages ago.”

“You’ve been calling me ‘baby,’ and… and ‘babe,’ and ‘sweetheart,’ and—”

“Oh. Okay, did it bother you?”

“Well, no. I just—“

“Because if it has, I can totally stop. I’d hate to cross any boundaries.”

Boundaries. Since what Nia dubbed the “Friendship Breakup of the Century,” boundaries have been blurrier than ever. Even before Lex revealed Kara as Supergirl, boundaries between them were murky, tiptoeing back and forth over the line of friendship and something more. Lena has managed to keep her feelings stuffed into neat little boxes. She has never been certain if Kara felt what she did, never wanted to rock the boat of their relationship by calling to attention just how…intimate some aspects of their relationship are.

“What boundaries are there really left to cross, Kara?”

“What do you mean?”

It seems Lena will have to buck up and spell it out.

“We sleep in the same bed, for gods sake!”

Kara tilts her head, looking a bit like a confused puppy.

“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked it!”

“I—I do!” Lena runs a hand through her wavy locks, growing increasingly frustrated by Kara’s inability to understand how odd their friendship is.

“So what’s the problem?!”

Lena jumps up, pacing back and forth in the space between the coffee table and the couch. She taps her fingers rhythmically against her crossed arms, trying to calm herself down.

“Friends don’t do this! The nicknames, sharing beds, and lunch dates, and movies nights cuddled up on the couch. Don’t you see how, how romantic this all is?!”

Kara jumps up, standing in Lena’s way, gently grabbing Lena’s shoulders. The blonde slowly uncrossed Lena’s arms, trailing her hands down until she is grasping Lena’s trembling hands. In the most soothing voice she can muster, Kara says,

“I mean, I guess. But we’ve never had a typical friendship, Lee. We’ve always been so much more, it doesn’t seem right to not do any of that. If you aren’t uncomfortable, and you don’t want me to stop, maybe…maybe all we have to do is stop being friends, and start being girlfriends.”

Girlfriends. Girlfriends? Lena can barely believe her ears.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, baby, be my girlfriend.” Kara gives Lena a beaming smile, watching as the brunette flounders to give her an answer.

“Girlfriends, like romantically, or…” Kara chuckles at Lena’s disbelieving tone.

“Yes, romantically! Like you said, there aren’t any boundaries left to cross but this one,” Kara moves her arms to Lena’s waist, leaning down slowly, giving the former CEO time to decline if she wants. Lena stares up at Kara, kryptonite green eyes roving between her lips and crystal blue eyes. With barely centimeters left between their lips, Lena surges forward onto her tiptoes, arms winding around Kara’s neck to pull her downward.

Seconds, minutes, even hours could have gone by before Kara breaks the kiss.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Lena happily says, moving to hug Kara tightly.

“FINALLY!” A voice exclaims.

Kara looks up, having not noticed her sister peaking her head around the now open apartment door. Lena burrows her head into the crook of Kara’s neck, unwilling to part.

“You owe me $50, Nal!”

“Ugh. You guys couldn’t wait one more week? You just cost me big time,” Nia grumbles, fishing through her purse for Alex’s winnings as the Superfriends pile into the apartment for game night.

Lena finally pulls back from Kara’s neck, moving to welcome their friends, but isn’t able to stray far when the reporter wraps both arms around her waist, pulling the brunettes back flush to her chest.

“Kara!” Lena squeals, a pretty red blush blossoming up her neck and onto her cheeks.

“What, you just agreed to be my girlfriend, I’m never letting you go again,” Kara tells her as she leans down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Later, when they leave, we can test out all our new boundaries,” Kara whispers quietly, placing a final kiss to the shell of her girlfriends ear before dragging Lena to the couch.

“Let’s play!”

*************

If Lena makes a point to win every game as quickly as possible, nearly shoving their family out the door at the end of the night, it’s no ones business but her own.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, so I am a lover of angst, hurt/comfort is my favorite. Anyways if it is okay may I please request an injured gn s/o (maybe s/o took a hit meant for them) either Sunday, Dan Heng, Argenti, basically as many or as few of the hsr men as you want. But if you don’t want to do this that’s okay, you are the author after all so yeah. Anyways love ya and have fun darling /lh

Sunday: he doesn’t take news of your injury lightly. At all.

You getting hurt was unacceptable and Sunday will let that be known as he demands a search party to look for the person(s) responsible for your injury.

He becomes incredibly suffocating during your recovery period. He will want to do everything for you so that you’d never have to raise a hand yourself.

He’s waiting on your hand and foot as he slowly grows more and more infuriated with the lack of progress made with the hunt search for your attacker.

He’s been told not to focus on such trivial matters and pat more attention to matters regarding The Family, but in his heart of hearts Sunday knew he couldn’t fulfil his duties as head, not when you were bed bound by your injuries and rendered helpless.

It’s not the first time he’s been reprimanded for such behaviour and actions before, but at some point Sunday just didn’t care enough to head those warnings as he spent most of his time feeding you, bathing you, clothing you and overall monitoring your health as he didn’t trust anyone outside to do so without the usage of foul play.

He’d might even use this as an opportunity to show you that you were never going to be safe if you stray from his side, for he couldn’t protect you if you were to wander far from his sight.

He wants you by him 24/7 and if you were to go anywhere, it was to be with his approval and administration.

Was this controlling? Yes but he was doing this for you, don’t you see? Nowhere is safe because everyone knows your relationship to him and they’ll use that to their advantage. He can’t keep you safe if he doesn’t know where you are all the time and if he had it his way, you’d never leave the house at all.

Sunday knows best, so you’d be wise to listen to him from here on out.

Argenti: utterly heartbroken and enraged that someone would dare hurt his beautiful flower.

He doesn’t take your safely lightly.

It was his solemn duty to protect and preserve all things beautiful and you were high up on his list of priorities.

He honestly wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, his rose, his most beloved and the most beautiful soul he’s ever gazed his eyes upon.

He makes up for the fact that you were injured by staying by your side, offering reassuring words throughout your healing journey, and always being there to catch you when you fall.

He’d even go as far as forgoing taking care of himself in exchange for making sure that you were bathed, clothed, fed and so on. He looks perpetually tired but yet so beautiful with that soft smile gracing his lips as he gazed at you with all the affection he could muster.

You naturally had to force him to take a break from caring for you and have a power nap with you instead as you couldn’t stand another moment more of Argenti ignoring his own needs for your own.

‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you my flower. I’m meant to be your knight, but you became mine instead when I got distracted in battle.’ He says.

‘I’d gladly be your knight all the time in gratitude for everything you’ve ever done for me Argenti.’ You replied softly, holding his hands and watching him melt into your touch, revealing in your warmth. ‘So please don’t take my injury to heart, even though I know you’ve already have. I just don’t want you blaming yourself for something that happened out of our control.’ You finished as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

‘I can’t promise anything dearest, seeing you hurt wounds me deeply as though I’ve been the one injured instead, but I’m willing to try. For you my heart.’ Argenti said and he truly meant it, but during the heat of battle that’s when he took his position as a knight seriously, as he would guard you with everything he had whsilt also staying true to his chivalrous nature.

Dan Heng: the moment he saw you get hurt, he’s mentally zoned out as his body takes over as he finds himself hovering over your body protectively, weapon in hand.

He refuses anyone to get near you as he’d lash out on instinct to protect you, his beloved.

He hates, no, despises the fact that he couldn’t protect you and will blame himself for it, until Welt has to step in and tell him that this mindset isn’t the mindset he should be having right now, not when you needed him as your pillar during your recovery.

That snaps Dan Heng out of it really quickly as he focuses on helping you recover and he takes that responsibility seriously. Though that never stops the guilt that he felt whenever looking at your healed scar, it served as a reminder of his greatest failure in protecting someone he loved.

It sickened him that after all this time he could still be proven to be weak in moments where he needed to be strong. He feels as though he’s failed you as a partner, but you never hold it again him as you reassure him while softly kissing his face.

‘It’s not your fault Dan Heng.’ You’d tell him frequently.

‘Then why does it feel like it is?’ He asks as his eye linger on your scar with melancholy.

He was so close to loosing you that day that whenever you were to fight, Dan Heng would be close by watching your back and covering your weak spots like he was made to know your fighting style as intimately as he did.

Nowadays he’s over protective and hovering over you 24/7 from the shadows, fae enough to give you space but close enough to protect you should the need arise.

He’s still trying to make up for the fact that he failed but to himself rather then anybody else, for no one held him more accountable for your injury then himself.

[filmologetica]

I’LL MAKE YOU FORGET YOU’RE GAY — soldier boy

pairing: soldier boy x demigod!reader

the one where: the reader tries to make a tiktok with ben.

warnings: +18. soldier boy (y’all know he’s pretty much a warning himself), language, mentions of sex, established relationship, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine.

a/n: english is not my first language and this is my first time writing.

Ben was aware you were awake for quite some time now. He knew that because even from far away in the big apartment he could not only hear your giggles while still in bed, but he could also hear all the Tiktoks you were watching. Which, by the way, he thought was the stupidest thing ever created.

He drank his coffee silently on the couch, trying to focus on the newspaper in hand. The whole supe thing was a lot, but the super hearing was what got him the most. Living in New York was noisy enough for humans, let alone for superheroes. Sometimes it took him quite a while to be able to focus on what he wanted, and you knew exactly how frustrating that could be, after all, being a supe wasn’t easy on anyone you’ve ever seen. Your case was slightly different. You weren’t a supe after all, just a demigod.

“Morning, handsome.” You purred, hugging Ben from behind on the couch and kissing his cheek before hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Bed’s so cold without you.”

“You’re a daughter of Apollo.” He says, without even looking away from the paper.

“So? You’re a different level of hot.” Ben can’t hide the smirk on his face after hearing you. Leaving the cup on the center table and the paper on the couch, he looks at you, pulling you to his lap.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard around.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. He winks at you, nonchalantly. “Thought you were gonna spend all day watching those stupid fucking videos. How are you fucking able to see the same fucking thing over and over again and still find it fucking funny?”

“Dear gods, how can you kiss me with that mouth?!” You playfully push his shoulder with a frown.

“You know I can do so much more with that mouth, Doll.” You could feel his voice getting lower and his hands start to roam over your naked legs. “Need a reminder?”

“Maybe I do.” You moved your hips a little, adjusting your positions making your ass fit perfectly where you could feel his cock. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll grant you the best head you’ve ever had-”

“Deal.”

“Let me finish!” You roll your eyes once again. “I’ll give you the best head you’ve ever had if you make a tiktok with me.”

“Fuck no.” Ben pushed you out of his lap, grabbing the empty cup and taking it to the kitchen.

“Please!”

“No.”

You followed him around like a lost puppy. “It’s a free blowjob!”

“Well, I already get lots of these. Think of something better.” Ben crossed his arms looking at you with no hints of humor.

“Period sex?” You knew how hard it was for him to spend days without fucking you when you had your period.

“Done that.” He slapped your ass before leaving the kitchen unimpressed.

“ANAL!” You yelled and Ben stopped in his tracks. Turning around slowly you regretted the whole conversation. He watched you smirking mischievously. That dirty look on his face making your panties wet.

“Grab your fucking phone, Sunshine.”

Positioning your phone at the center table was easy. The image was good and clear. You were sitting on the couch wearing one of Ben’s big shirts and he had an amused face thinking about how easy it was going to be. But well, you had your tricks.

Pressing the record button, you were fast with your words. “Ok. So, this is a simple trick I’ve learned on Tiktok and it actually works. Ready?”

Ben frowned in his place, moving closer to the camera with full attention and no idea what you were talking about or what was about to happen. “I guess.”

“From the minute I snap my fingers you’ll forget you’re gay.” Snap.

The look on Ben’s face was confused as hell. “What? I’m not gay!”

“IT WORKS!” You laughed amazed with the scene. Maybe dating an old men was really fun after all.

“What works? I’m not fucking gay, Y/N.”

“You really forgot! Oh, gods! That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I’ll show you how gay I am while my fucking cock is deep inside that pretty little ass of yours fucking you raw.”

And you pressed the button to stop.

[vibingandsimping]

Literally NOBODY asked me this in my inbox. Got tired of waiting, smh… So I wrote it. Consider this my community service. Halsin teaching an inexperienced reader how to give a handjob. That’s it.

EDIT: Getting back into posting and this is a wip I’ve been working on. I added a little more to it for some length but this will likely be all. Unless you all want to see this finished.

———————————-

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected to get this far. Nor did you have any clue what to do at this point. Things between you and Halsin had intensified in a short period of time. His passion as a whole was almost infectious. He gave you a sense of comfortability in your self. Always putting you at ease whenever he was in your company. Short pecks turned into long kisses. Fleeting touches into longer embraces… more intense touches. What was a make-out session now Halsin laying under you hard. The feeling of his hard length against the inner of your thigh enriched the pre-existing butterflies fluttering inside you. He trailed a hand down your side before kissing along your neck, earning a whine of pleasure. The intensity of flame between your thighs gradually increased with each touch. You needed to do something to alleviate this itch inside you. With a shaking breath- you spoke.

“Can I touch you, Halsin?” The words were timid. Nerves shook your voice and made you tense. The man-bear chuckled and slid his arms down your back to your waist. Sitting you upwards before he spoke himself.

“Of course, my dove. Let me teach you.” His large hands shifted his pants down his hips til his engorged erection bounced as it escaped it’s confines. It was intimidating, frankly. The tip red and swollen, along with the shaft reflecting a similar pink. He stared at you affectionately as you took in the sight of him. He understood- he was a large man. His fingers interlocked with yours and he raised your hand towards the head. With precarious movements, and a reaffirming look (which you mutually shared), he wrapped your fingers around it. It throbbed at your touch and felt impossibly hot. Like his groins were truly aflame. You did this all to him by yourself?

“Slide your hand down. Slowly, and work around the tip each time you go back up.” You nodded attentively and promptly followed his instructions. Te precum drizzled from his cock as you gently pulled the foreskin down. Of course he was uncut, as Astarion would say, this man is all about nature. Each jerk slowly worked it down slower before you had his full length exposed and reddened. His stomach tensed and released from the stimulating friction. Drawing his lip into his teeth.

“Good. Keep doing that…” He uttered firmly. His dominance enraged the fire inside you and you returned to stroking him with newfound vigor. ‘Shlicking’ up his length and back down. His precum dribbled onto your palm and aided your journey to helping him achieve orgasm. You studied his face and watched as each feature changed with your movements. His lip remained in his teeth- seemingly drawn tight. He reached a hand down to your hip and held you in place. Confidence bubbled to the surface with his motion. In turn, you began rubbing your thumb over his slit with each jerk.

“Holy. Gods, you’re such a minx. Mm, just like that.” He laughs out loud as he speaks. You can’t help but smile cheekily at his response. Even when being jerked off he was still Halsin. His stomach and thighs began to shake and his head tilted to the side. If you had to guess he seemed close. Already? You pondered mid-stroke. Hand working harder on his hard cock as the wet shlicks filled your ears. He began to softly moan in response to the rapid increase in pressure and pace. It was only a few minutes before he began to spurt his seed across your chest and hand. Growling out primally as he reached his climax. Hands holding your hips so firmly you were sure you’d bruise after. Halsin’s face squished in a look of ecstasy. Tinged with embarrassment. He flopped down after and released his harsh grasp.

“Apologies. I just find you so captivating that I couldn’t hold myself back. How about I return the favor, honey?” Yeah, that sounded nice.

[ohnococo]

JJK Men react to Reader on their Period

Gojo, Ijichi, & Sukuna

Gojo’s kisses start so light and teasing that you can never know when they’ll last one minute or twenty. If you knew you’d have warned him outright of what to expect, but you didn’t. So here you are, pressed to him and panting as he slides one thigh between your legs, tugging at your hips to guide you into riding it.

But he’s ultimately focused on something else, and he asks outright as always, “Wanna ride me?”

He says it like he’s pleading, and it only makes it harder to turn him down.

“I’m on my period, Satoru…”

He pouts, “C’mon, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you right?”

His cute whines have blood rushing to your face, and you turn away smiling, “I dunno, I don’t want to make a mess.”

Gojo's long fingers grasp your chin gently and turn you right back to lock eyes with him, wanting his face to have its full effect as he makes a compromise. “At least let me play with your clit, huh? You can jerk me off too.”

It’s a valid suggestion, and by the way you bite your lip he knows you’re keen on the idea. He gives you another kiss, already sliding his hand into your pants.

Ijichi’s had his head on your lap for ages, looking up at you, listening keenly as you talk while you both relax on the couch. You see that change in him eventually though, blush on his cheeks, eyes getting glassy as he starts looking more and more lovesick just from being so close to you and hearing your voice.

It’s not exactly subtle with the way he’s been tightly clutching a cushion over his lap to hide the erection you very much knew was there.

“Can we…” he doesn’t need to finish the question, sliding the cushion away and revealing that he’s been hard in his pants for some time, thanks to the wet patch giving him away.

“Ijichi, honey, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh…” he looks away for a moment, considering his words, before his soft brown eyes are back on yours, “I don’t mind if you don’t?”

You think about it, smiling down at him, but the silence has him worried as he sits up and takes your hand in his. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” you squeeze his hand, reassuring him, “I’m glad you asked. I’d like to do it.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering as he looks into your eyes. You kiss him softly, and when your tongue meets his he lets a little moan slip out of his mouth and into yours.

“I’d like it a lot, actually.”

Sukuna is kissing you, groping at your body hungrily in his usual path downward as teeth and tongue keep you from any gentle protests when he nears your pussy. When his hand finally reaches into your panties you push a little harder to stop him, clenching your thighs together and turning your face away from his barrage of kisses to speak.

“Hold on, I’ve got my period.”

“Oh?” There’s that wicked sparkle in his eye that lets you know you’re in for it now. He retracts his hand, to your surprise, settling it on your abdomen and rubbing firmly. “Does it hurt?”

His brows are raised, lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout meant only to mock you, “Shall I kiss it better?”

You aren’t given a chance to respond as he pulls your panties off of you forcefully, using his full weight on your thighs to keep them spread wide as he lowers his mouth to your cunt.

[bearieio]

we've got a date!

date night + morning with ellie! (+ a couple headcanons)

warnings: fluff! fem!reader (reader wears a dress & heels), modern au???? kinda, not really, but STILL! IDK!!! ALSO, mentions of pot/weed/reefer/mary jane/ganja... u know ;)

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for WEEKS! like seriously.. i forgot about it… also ty for 100+ followers?? i’ve only had this acc for a few weeks? sooooo ty!!! (´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

getting ready for date night with ellie takes longer than the date itself! 

she always wants you to do her hair (she picks the same style almost every time) and her makeup (usually a little bit of concealer, dark eyeshadow, some mascara, and more often than not, a dark-reddish lip tint/lipstick)

but of course, it’s all an act to get you to be close to her and so she can get a good look at you :)

by the time you’re finished getting the both of yourselves ready, it’ll be too late to go to the fancy restaurant that you‘d had a reservation for. 

“it’s fine, babe. we’ll stay in.” she says, her head tilting as she studies the way your dress hugs your waist and your hips, a grin forming on her face. “yea… we’ll definitely stay in.”

the one time you guys end up being ready on time, she wears a loose-fitting suit (becuz she’s classy like that), she prefers the darker shades to match with the makeup you did for her. 

her accessories include TONS of rings, including the matching promise ring that she’d gotten for the two of you. i feel like she has 2 silver necklaces, one being a sorta chunky silver chain and a heart locket with a picture of you in it :(

and guys…. wouldn’t it be so fun and so silly and goofy if ellie wore matching underwear set with the reader? like….. HELLO?

during dinner (whether it’s at home or at the actual restaurant), she’s always staring at you, into your eyes, at your hair, at your body. 'god, she’s gorgeous.' she thinks to herself, watching as you eat your food. 'fuck.. i'm so lucky to have her.'

omg ellie has PAGES and PAGES dedicated to you in her notebook. if she could fill up her entire notebook with drawings, poems, and little details about you, she would. but obviously she can’t because she needs it for her missions, and it’s best to travel lightly on them.

periodically, you’ll look up to see her sketching in her notebook. but when you try to take a peak, she covers up her pages with her hands. “babe!!” you whine, “let me see!!!” she groans and places her notebook in your hands.

as soon as your eyes hit the pages, you see detailed and pretty accurate drawings.. of you. “are these all me, ellie?” you gasp, and look up at her. she’s already looking away, a flustered and palming the back of her neck. 

she mumbles something under her breath, but you can’t quite make out what. “what? i can’t hear you..” you reply to her mumbling. “i said… yes.” she responds, turning to face you, her freckled cheeks still flushed.

as soon as the two of you leave and get home, you shower her with kisses, placing your lips all over her face, neck, and face (basically wherever you can!)

i feel like ellie would be the type of person to order chicken tenders/a burger at whatever restaurant she’s at.  she doesn’t like changing up her orders too often, but she’ll definitely end up eating half of your meal as well :’)

it’s usually super late when the two of you get home. as you set down your stuff, you can feel ellie’s guitar-calloused fingers feel up and down your arms, her lips peppering soft and light kisses against the back of your neck and your shoulders. 

“let’s go to bed, angel..” you hear her grumble behind you. she guides you upstairs, her hands placed on your hips, lightly pushing you up the stairs. 

ellie LOVES to take care of you. taking your heels off, helping you out of your dress, taking your hair down/putting it up. the whole SHEBANG!!  but she’s also a big softie and loves when you return the favor :(  she absolutely loves your touch and feeling your soft hands and your delicate fingers gliding up and down her skin. 

cuddling with ellie is usually short, but sweet. she likes to be little spoon most of the time, but since she falls asleep so quickly, she almost always ends up wiggling her way out of your grasp. 

on the contrary, when you’re little spoon, her grip on you is so tight that you guys wake up the next morning in the same position. and thats how you know the sleep was good. 

“so… how would you rate our date?” she asks, her eyes closed, already drifting off to sleep.

+++

you find yourself waking up the next morning to ellie’s side of the bed empty. “..ellie?” you call out. no response. as soon as you get up and walk halfway down the stairs, your nostrils are hit with a mixing aroma of both pot and…. bacon?

when you spot ellie, she has a spatula in one hand and the other is gripping the handle of the pan. 6 thick slices of bacon dance on the face of the pan as ellie exhales smoke through her nose.

when she finally realizes you were standing at the edge of the counter, she makes her way over to you, slightly blowing smoke into your mouth as she leans in to kiss you “good morning!" she says, taking the joint out of her mouth, and placing a deep kiss on your lips. "mmm my sweet girl.” she hums.

"hey, help me set the table!"

constructive criticism is appreciated !!!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {2}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Unexpected allies and strange changes are happening both on and off the track. Warnings: 18+ only, mature content, we got another period WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three

Round One - Bahrain 2023 “Nice work out there,” Lance said as he clapped you on the back as you began your return to the motorhome smelling like champagne. 

“You too, not a bad start at all,” you said with a grin. It was the first race and already you had scored a podium for Aston Martin, albeit behind both Red Bulls. 

“Not sure your boyfriends would agree. Have you seen them yet?”

You sighed and shook your head. Charles had out-qualified you, both Ferrari’s starting a row ahead, but in the end he hadn’t been able to finish the race. Lando wasn’t much better, coming in last with who remained in the race. 

“I’ll hunt them down after I find my mum. She’s probably lost and confused by now.” 

“She’ll get used to the paddock soon enough. It must be good to have her finally come to your races.”

“I’m not sure she would say the same thing,” you chuckled. “Did you see how nervous she was at testing last week? Thought she was going to have an aneurysm when she heard my top speed.”

“Dad was like that when I started too.” Lance opened the door for you to the Aston Martin motorhome and grinned at the cheer that erupted. The race had only finished an hour ago and already the motorhome was being dismantled to move on to the next destination.

“One more race like that and we’ll already have more points than we had all of last year,” Lawrence said as he threw his arms around both you and his son. “Sensational! That’ll show the bastards at Red Bull they have a competition on their hands this year.”

“Can’t wait,” you smirked at the idea.

Lawrence squeezed your shoulder. “Show them what a mistake they made, alright?”

“With pleasure. Thank you for giving me the chance.”

Lawrence sighed and took a seat at an empty table, pointing you to the one opposite and he sent Lance off to get changed. “You’re a great driver, there’s no disputing that, so I’m happy to have you on the team - especially if you keep performing like you did out there. You could have an entire harem for all I care.”

“I’m happy with two, thanks,” you said with a laugh. “It does suck not being able to go out and celebrate though.” 

You had received a warning letter before the season began with an outline on which countries you would be arrested in for showing any PDA, same with Lando and Charles. Bahrain was one and the next stop in Saudi Arabia was another. Lewis had tried to speak up but his influence couldn't change the laws that were going to be upheld and there would be no leniency. 

“I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail so early in the season.”

“I can cover bail, just don’t rip up my contract,” you joked. “Please.”

“That wasn’t right. I have a daughter so I know full well the different treatment you ladies get no matter what you do.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, “They don’t even seem to remember Checo’s scandal in Monaco last year. It just goes to show that it wasn't because their ���core values’ were breached. Red Bull is led by misogynists. End of.”

“Well don’t hold back, Mr Stroll.” You grinned at your boss and sat back in your seat feeling even more comfortable with your choice in employer. You had offers from Williams and Alfa Romeo, as well as a reserve driver for Mercedes, but you were glad you took the Aston Martin seat, even if green wasn’t your best colour. “I feel like I should set you up on a soap box outside their garage.”

“I’ve found they don’t pay much attention to words, we’ll just have to beat them instead,” he said as he rose from the table and wrapped his knuckles on the wooden top. “Have yourself a good evening.”

“You too, boss.”

After showering and searching the motorhome and failing to find your mum, you went in search through the paddock, finally locating her in McLaren’s hospitality. 

“One race and you ditched me already,” you said to her as you stole one of their bottles of water from the fridge. 

“I knew you were fine, so I thought I would check in on sweet Lando,” she said with a sad smile. “He’s not too happy with his result.”

You snorted a laugh and she slapped your arm as she shhh’d you. “What? No one jumps for joy at last place. It’s kind of obvious.”

“Just go and check on him okay? I’ll see you all for dinner later.”

You watched her navigate her way out and trusted that she could find her way back to Astin Martin. Kristian was staying in the same hotel so she was going to get a ride back with him while you rode with Lando and Charles after finishing the debrief and interviews. She had the endless patience of a saint, except when it came to the media.

You rapped your knuckles on the door before opening it and found Lando pacing the narrow space, his phone to his ear. “-least yours was a mechanical failure, my car is just shit. Oh, she just got here. We’ll see you soon. Love you.”

He tossed his phone onto the table and opened his arms, welcoming a warm embrace after the terrible performance he had endured. His chest was still damp from the shower and he smelt edible like a key lime pie when you kissed his collar bone. 

“Proud of you,” he murmured into your neck where he buried his face and inhaled your body wash too. 

“Proud of you too.” 

He pulled back and shook his head like he didn’t believe you and you caught his face in your hands, forcing him to face you. “I am proud of you, baby. What you did today was much harder than me…the fact you still finished the race and held your head high shows how resilient you are. I probably would have done a Kimi and just fucked off mid-race.”

His chest bounced with a small laugh because you both knew it was true. 

“You are going to be a world champion one day, I know it,” you swore as you pressed your forehead to his and felt him shake his head. “You don’t have to believe me, Lando. I believe in you. You deserve it, you have the raw talent - and one day you will have the car to match. Then you will be unstoppable.”

The door swung open as Charles let himself in and you delighted in the way his face lit up upon seeing you both opening your arms for him to join. “Mmmm,” he sighed as he closed his eyes and tipped his head onto Lando’s shoulder. “What a fucking day…Can we go home yet?”

Round Four - Baku 2023 You were a shoo-in for a podium place. It was in reach for the fourth race in a row, until the pain began. Sudden and strong, you nearly missed the corner as the ache in your abdomen grew to a point you couldn’t ignore it. You felt even bump in the road, every force of the turns, the pressure from your harness.

“Fuck,” you growled through gritted teeth. “How many laps left?”

“Five, why? Woah, your heart rate is through the roof,” Chris exclaimed, not nearly as calm as Nicholas would have been.

“Yeah, kind of happens when I’m in pain,” you retorted as you thought you could probably handle five more laps. There wasn’t another option anyway. 

By the penultimate lap Charles had overtaken you and you saw his helmet turn your way ever so slightly, like time slowed as he passed. There was no way to see under his visor but you knew there would have been a look of concern on his face.

“Try to at least maintain your pace, Sainz is currently gaining.”

“I’m fucking trying alright.”

You managed to remain in fourth position as you crossed the finish line and then returned to the pits to see Charles’ Ferrari taking the last podium parking spot. You would have liked to have parked there but if it had to go to someone else you were glad it was him. 

“Where’s Lando?”

“Ninth.”

You laughed happily at the news that he had also made it to the points again and turned off your engine to start unstrapping yourself. You reached between your legs for the buckle and swore under your breath as you felt the sticky residue on your race suit that was definitely not sweat.

Charles had been celebrating with his team before the final weigh in but when he returned to take a drink of water he noticed you still hadn’t climbed out of yours. He could see Lando’s car a few behind as he arrived but even he was touching down on the tarmac and pushing his steering console back into place.

“Charles, you’re up,” Max interrupted the step he took towards you. “What’s she doing? She’s not crying because she lost, right?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered half distracted before realising what Max had said and rolled his eyes. “She’s not crying.”

He seemed proven wrong when you pulled your helmet off your head and he saw tears streaming down your face. Max turned to Sergio and pointed to the interviewer waiting by the Sky News cameras. “Mate, can you go first?” They didn’t wait for an answer as your face contorted with pain and your head fell forward. 

“Baby, you alright?” Lando asked as he reached you first, reaching in and taking your steering wheel out for you as you shook your head. “Here, let me help you out.”

“I can’t get out of the car,” you admitted as tears of embarrassment wet your hot cheeks. 

“That's okay, I can carry you,” he murmured as he reached for you but you slapped his hands away. 

“I can’t get out of the fucking car!” you snapped, immediately getting the attention of Charles and Max who had arrived too, only increasing the anxiety that you were feeling. “Please, just get my pit crew to jack up the car and wheel me to the garage.”

“Why?” Max asked as he crossed his arms, but then they dropped as he barked a laugh. “Did you pee in the car?”

“Fuck off, twat,” you grunted as Charles hit him on the shoulder with a, “Mate, it happens, leave her alone.”

You hunched over and clutched your abdomen as a cramp wracked your body and a pained groan slipped out. “Oh, oh shit,” Lando reacted first, knowing exactly what was happening after surviving three of your menstrual cycles over the winter break. 

“Charles, Max, interview time.” 

They both glared at the FIA official but Lando nodded his head. “Go, I’ll take care of her.”

Three Days Later Your knee nervously bounced as you sat in the doctor's room. “I never get periods during the racing season, something must be wrong.”

“Well, your test results were all normal.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose as she changed the folders she was looking at. “Are you feeling stressed?”

You pondered the question for a moment, not really having realised how different life was in Aston Martin and not having to hide your relationship. “Not really, no.”

“But you used to be,” she noted as she read through her past comments on your file. “Stress, as you know, can upset your hormonal balance quite significantly.”

“So I’m getting my period again because I’m not as stressed? That’s inconvenient.”

“It’s how your body should function.”

“I need it to stop.”

Reaching into her drawer, she grabbed a few pamphlets and laid them across her desk. “There’s certainly options, but they could have other side effects.”

You left the office with a prescription in hand but you weren’t sure how your boyfriends were going to take the news. They were always concerned about your health and wellbeing that it could go one of two ways.

“I thought the hormones would mess with you,” Lando said as he shook the box and heard the rattle of the foil trays inside.

“They are messing with me now.” You dropped down onto the couch as he passed the box over to Charles to read. “Who knew Red Bull could be so stressful?” you mused.

“Pierre, Albono, Kvyat,” Lando listed with a smirk. 

“I think you should take them, if you think it will help,” Charles decided as he placed the box back in your hand.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you shrugged, cracking the foil seal on the first tablet. “Plus, we’ll save a fortune not having to buy condoms.”

“Wait, what?” Lando’s face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “I thought this was to stop your period.”

“I mean, it stops them, as well as having babies, like a two-for-one deal.”

“I could get on board that.” His lips curled up into a sexy smirk as he dropped into the space beside you and draped his arm across your shoulders. His body was already stirring at the idea and he looked up at Charles who had gone to get a glass of water for you. “Tell me you haven’t dreamt of this day.”

Charles rolled his eyes but didn’t refute him as he handed the glass over and watched you swallow the little pill. “Of course I have, mon cher.”

“Sorry, boys, it takes seven days to work. You’ll still have to wrap it if you want to tap it.”

It was mean but you took some pleasure in the collective groan they made.

“Block out your calendar,” Charles chuckled as he bent down and kissed you. “Seven days and we plan to absolutely ruin you.”

You squirmed at the thought, imagining the feel of their cum dripping from you after they filled you and it drove you feral. You grabbed Charles and pulled him onto the couch as he laughed at the sudden urge you had to feel his body on yours. 

“Tell us what you need, chérie,” he teased while Lando’s lips found your racing pulse.

Your core clenched and reminded you of the emptiness within. “You,” you begged as your hands disappeared up their shirts and felt the hard muscles beneath your palms. “I need you to ruin me.”

Click here for part three.

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[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Eight

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None except for like one cuss word

Notes: Hot off the press - I just spent my day packing my house up to move tomorrow and I’m up past midnight to get this out... You guys have been so freaking supportive and I’m excited for this story to pick up!

Word Count: 3158

Series Masterlist

• March 11th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Emotions.” Jasper says by way of greeting, placing his backpack on the picnic table that no doubtibly contains his art supplies.

“Everyone has them, yes?” I reply, my forehead wrinkling in confusion at his peculiar single-word statement.

“I can control them.” He answers, visibly nervous as if he were afraid he just opened a can of worms.

I watch him pull out his well-worn sketchbook and pencils as I decide how to respond to this new bit of information.

“Say something, doll.” Jasper looks almost pleading, worry setting in on his face.

“How does it work?” I question him, I’m in shock that he volunteered such important information in the middle of a school day at lunch as if it were a typical topic to talk about.

“Well, it started off as just being able to sense the emotions of humans and vampires in my vicinity,” he lets out a sigh as he begins shading whatever it is he’s working on. “Then I quickly figured out I can influence them. I can either enhance what someone is already feeling, take away their emotions altogether, or replace them entirely and give them something completely different.”

“W-wow,” I stutter, “that’s honestly impressive.” I raise my eyebrows as his eyes meet mine.

“I can also do small things since I’ve had time to hone my power, like it’s easy to find people I’m familiar with in a crowded area, within a reasonable distance. As long as I can get to know the person, orient myself with their emotions, it’s quite easy.” He glances down at his drawing as he finishes his explanation.

“That has to be rough, feeling everything everyone else is feeling all the time. You can turn it off though, right?” I muse out loud, I can’t imagine having a power that doesn’t come with an ‘off’ switch.

“Unfortunately I can’t, my family is usually pretty good at regulating the intensity of their emotions when we’re gathered at home. At school though… Sitting out here alone with you during lunch is a welcome reprieve.” Jasper turns back to his sketch as he admits that last tidbit of information.

“Do any of your other siblings have super powers like you?” I tease him, not ready to dive into that nugget of information about how spending time with me makes him feel.

“Rosalie and Emmett don’t, neither do Carlisle and Esme. Unless you want to count the staggeringly strong self-control my adoptive father possesses.” Jasper pauses, “Alice can see the future, subjectively though - she has to be searching for that person’s intent and as long as they make a decision, she can see it and the immediate effects. Edward on the other hand, can-“ but he’s interrupted by the bell signaling the end of the lunch period.

“You’re not off the hook now that you’ve enlightened me, I expect to finish this conversation.” I tell him as I stand and meet him on the sidewalk leading towards the school building.

“I would never leave business unfinished with a lady.” He says rather cheekily, trying to get a rise from me, but all it earns him is a huff of a laugh as we walk in a comfortable silence.

“Thank you for sharing that information with me, I promise not to tell anyone.” I vow soberly, meeting his eyes as we stand outside of my next class.

“I was never worried.” Jasper replies, backing away as students finish milling about in the hallway. “See you in History, darlin’.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I stood in front of my open locker, quickly shuffling through the books I needed for my last class of the day. It’s almost like his gaze seemed to burn me alive as I felt it travel across my skin, the hair on the back of my neck rose due to my heightened state of awareness I had towards this gorgeous man. Does he know the effect he has? Is he even aware that I am utterly at his mercy? I hate to fall in line with all the other girls that must throw themselves at his feet, most of them much prettier than I, so why me? Why does he want to take me on a date?

I glance over my shoulder in the direction I know his own locker is in and sure enough, liquid gold is locked onto its target. A steady unwavering gaze stares back, so solid and intense that it constricts my chest for a moment with the pure force of it.

I turn back to my locker and grab a pen before slamming the door shut, the warning bell signaling one minute before everyone still occupying the hallway is tardy. As I turn to hurry my way to History, Jasper has made his way to stand right behind me.

“Do you like baseball?” He blurts out quickly, as if to not lose his nerve.

“It’s probably the only sport I understand, so yeah. Why?” I counter, tilting my head in question.

“My family and I were thinking of playing a game Sunday. Would you like to tag along and spectate? Bella Swan will be there, I’m sure she would love your company.” Jasper tacked on the last part as if I needed more reason to go than just spending time with him.

“As if I could say no to you and your family.” I tell him with a smile.

“Good, so you’ll want to meet them tomorrow?” He asks with more confidence than the last request, slowly taking steps backwards down the empty hall and I gravitate with him.

My mind blanks, not prepared to be sprung with such a big step in… whatever is happening between us. First he tells me he wants to take me out on a date, now I’m meeting his family? Is this some lucky alternate universe where the insanely attractive boy falls for the incredibly average girl?

No-no way, friends bring their friends over to meet their entire family before a family outing, right?

“I-I-uh-“

“Noon tomorrow, they’ll love you.” Disappearing around the corner of the hallway with a smirk in place, probably because I was gaping at him in the middle of an empty hall.

I glance around - an empty hallway! I’m late for class! I can’t even be mad, Jasper Hale has effectively monopolized my weekend and I’m more than happy about it.

• March 11th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

“Hey, mom?” I ask, poking my head in her open bedroom door.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Putting down the book she was reading and pushing up her reading glasses, my mother sits up in bed to give me her full attention.

“So,” I take a seat at the end of her bed, “Jasper Hale invited me to his house tomorrow, to have dinner with his family and just hang out I guess.”

“Oh?” My mother sounds intrigued, eyebrows raising. “A date with a cute boy?”

“Not a date!” I immediately correct her, “it’s just dinner, or whatever.”

She laughs as I pick at her bedspread. “Honey, of course you can go, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?” She questions.

“He also asked if I wanted to play baseball Sunday with his fa-“

“You? Play baseball?” She blurts out, incredulously.

“Mom!” I draw out the word. “He’s invited me to hang out with his family this weekend - you’ll be cool, right? When he picks me up? No interrogating?”

“Me? Interrogate the cute boy stealing my daughter for a weekend? I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing you.” She teases me with a wink.

I stand and begin to leave, “You are insufferable, woman.”

“I love you, sweetheart!” She yells after me as I round the corner to my room. Flopping onto my bed with a smile, I’m both giddy and equally nervous for the next two days.

• March 12th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •

Reader

“This is my adoptive father Carlisle and his wife Esme.” Gesturing to the two beautiful adults patiently waiting in the foyer as we walk in their home.

Thankfully my mom was at work when Jasper picked me up, giving me another day to prepare myself for the potential train wreck of them meeting tomorrow.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen.” I give them a smile as I shake their hands.

“Trust me dear, the pleasure is all ours!” Esme responds excitedly, her smile wide and beaming.

“The others are in the living room, beware of what you’re throwing her into.” Carlisle warns Jasper with a smile.

Throwing me into? I glance up at Jasper with my brows furrowed, a little concerned.

“C’mon, I’ll protect you.” He jokes with me, I must be missing the punchline.

As he leads me to the living room in his house, I gape at the beautiful artwork spaced throughout. “This is gorgeous, Jasper.”

“Esme is pleased you like it.”

Not having heard his mom speak, I turn from where I was ogling a painting that appeared to be ancient. “But she-“

“Can hear you from her study and I can feel her emotions, remember?” He winks at me, show off.

Finally we walk into the space where his siblings are and I realize what Carlisle meant: Mario Kart.

Alice and Emmett are sitting on the edge of the couch, deep in concentration while Rosalie seems bored from her perch in the corner by her significant other.

“You’re fucking cheating!” Emmett bellows, frantically mashing buttons on his controller.

“It’s not cheating if you’re playing someone that sucks.” Alice taunts him, a wicked grin on her face.

“You can see the future Alice, cut him some slack.” Jasper chides his sister as he leads me to an empty section of the couch.

My eyes widen in amusement as I observe the small dark haired girl, “That’s right! You can-“

“See everything I try to do!” Emmett yells, frustration setting in as his character is hit with a shell.

It’s almost laughable, Emmett’s character Bowser and Alice as Princess Peach. I sit down next to Jasper, a few inches between us as I cross my legs and he lays an arm behind me on the back of the couch. I try to keep my breathing even as I sit here, but the excitement to be spending time with him is almost overwhelming.

I watch as Princess Peach zaps the other players into miniature size and Rose reminds Emmett not to throw yet another remote at the ground, when Jasper leans in close.

“Want a tour of the house?” He asks in a whisper, creating goosebumps down my arms.

“Yes.” I respond, probably sounding breathless, but he’s standing and offering his hand before I have the chance to feel embarrassed.

“And this is my room.” His tour coming to an almost close, since I’m still patiently waiting for a peak at all their cars.

I walk in the doorway he pointed to, stopping just inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bookshelves lining the wall opposite of the floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to be a theme throughout the house. His room was much darker than all the others, warm and inviting with the shades of black and dark wood tones. Stepping closer and skirting the immaculately made king size bed, my eyes close in on some familiar titles on the shelves.

“I always see you reading and since I have quite a bit of free time, I thought I’d pick up a few.”

I turn to look at him with my mouth parted in surprise at his thoughtfulness, his hands are clasped behind his back like he’s bashful for getting found out.

“Jasper-“ but he interrupts me.

“The garage is next.” I watch him turn on his heel and disappear down the hallway.

I look down and brush my fingers on his black comforter as I smile to myself before following him, so Jasper Hale isn’t immune to his own feelings - he just doesn’t like to show them.

Walking into the garage, my eyes skip over the beautiful cars and land on a sleek little thing in the back. A Ducati 848 to be exact, it draws me in like a magnet. Immediately I knew it had to belong to Jasper, no one else seemed like the type. Rose had her red convertible, Emmett had his Jeep, and Edward had his mom-car. Alice and Esme didn’t bother with vehicles and Carlisle had a reasonable, albeit expensive, commuter.

“Wow,” my voice quiet as my fingers brushed the gas tank, “I’m impressed, Hale.”

“You know bikes?” Jasper asks with a hint of curiosity.

“Not really, but I know enough to know that this Ducati is basically a rocket and that it must’ve cost you a pretty penny.” I replied, eyes still glued to the beautiful machinery. “Why didn’t you tell me you drove a motorcycle?”

“Not many parents let their ‘teenager’ drive death traps around.”

“Touché.” I pause, “Take me for a ride?” Swinging my leg over to straddle the beast, I lean over the tank and glance at Jasper.

I know I’ve successfully distracted him by the amount of time it takes for him to respond. Grinning, I sit back and look at him expectantly.

“Absolutely not, darlin’. No way I’m risking-“

“You have safety gear, don’t you?” I tease him as I get off and walk behind him to snag the helmet placed on the counter along the back wall.

Jasper groans and tilts his head back in mock-frustration as he fishes the keys from his pocket. I squeal as I pull the helmet on and hop excitedly towards the bike.

“You’re wearing my protective gear or no deal, sweetheart.” He lays down the law as he stalks over to a cabinet, retrieving a thick coat and gloves.

I almost protest, but he’s pulling the jacket over my arms and zipping it up my chest leaving me breathless before I know what’s happening. Even with the helmet covering my face, I’m sure he senses the heat in my cheeks as he finishes checking me over.

“You sure about this?” Jasper asks, finding my eyes under the visor with his supernatural vision.

“Are you sure about this?” I counter, the unease floating around is practically choking me in this enclosed space before it vanishes in a snap.

He flips up my visor, “Riding with someone requires trust-“

“I trust you, Jasper Hale. Completely and without any reservations or doubt in your abilities to keep me safe.” I swear my words stunned him, his mouth parted slightly as I blurted the confession. As if he realized the doubt that was flowing earlier was from him and not me.

“You are…”, he mutters his response low enough that I can’t hear as he swings a leg over the motorcycle and turns to me seriously. “Number one rule, don’t let go of me. Lean with me on turns and stay tucked in. If you need to stop, tap on my chest. Any questions, doll?” Jasper asks.

“Where are we going?” I climb on behind him and scoot close enough to wrap my arms around his waist lightly, this is the first opportunity I’ve had to be this close to him and it’s amazing. I let out a small gasp when he grabs the backs of both knees to tug me closer, bracketing my hips around his to tuck me in close. He then grabs my arms and places them over his chest, the side of my helmeted head coming to rest on his large back.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, ready?” I feel a teasing chuckle rumble in his chest, so I simply nod, excitement tingling all over from where my body touches his.

The Ducati roars to life in the enclosed space and I feel it lean to the right as Jasper taps the garage door button on the wall to open our exit. My arms squeeze him a little tighter as we launch forward down the driveway, I’m tempted to wave to Esme smiling from the porch, but I decide against it remembering his number one rule of not letting go.

This is single-handedly the best idea I’ve ever had.

Jasper

This girl will be the death of me, I know it for certain.

She could ask me to bring her the moon and I would have it in her hands in a heartbeat. Taking her out on my motorcycle? Easy in theory, extremely difficult in practice. I’ve never felt as I do right now with her arms around me, her completely pressed against my back and squeezing me at every jolt and turn I make.

Heaven and Hell, having my greatest temptation in such close proximity.

She trusts me. Completely and without doubt - her fucking words. I’m positively speechless, I’ve never had someone to myself that trusted me so wholly without needing any kind of explanation or-or proof-

And her leaning over my bike in the garage? I nearly swerve us right off the road thinking about the arch in her back, the way her chest pressed against the tank, her toes barely able to touch the ground… it took nearly every ounce of control to remain rooted while she was seated atop my motorcycle.

My only regret is not showing her the garage sooner, that image of her will forever be seared into my mind. On second thought, I’m sure my mental images were extremely loud and clear in the garage - it’s a mystery how Edward can manage to be around the couples in our family. For me at least, the emotions get too much sometimes and I need breaks.

I’ve noticed that I’ve needed them less and less since Y/n literally slammed her way into my life - breaks from everyone else that is. She not only elicits a physical reaction that no one else has ever managed to coax out of me, but she has also become a mental safe-haven. Being around her energy is as easy and mindless as breathing, if only I could breathe around her without inhaling molten lava. Everything about her completely consumes me, tears me apart and builds me back up, unmakes and makes me over and over, infinite bliss and unending torture. My singer, her blood is a symphony and I am her rapt audience hanging on to every beautiful note and praying for an encore.

My singer.

The revelation clangs through my soul and grants my body with a new purpose; her. She is mine to protect, from this day onward. My left hand reaches up to anchor myself where Y/n’s hands rest on my chest, her arms not quite long enough for her fingers to meet in the middle. I smile to myself, maybe I can allow myself this one bit of happiness, to let her in.

Next

[thepremedthatwrites]

Handle Yourself

Hey! Could you do a a fic about riding Edmund's thigh while he's studying??? Or A nsfw Alphabet for Edmund please? Thank you so much!

warning: smut below the cut

I let out a huff as the book fell from my hands and onto the bed. My eyes had started to hurt as I strained to read the small text and I felt the need to take a break. Edmund turned from his seat at the desk, a smirk on his face. “Need a break already, love?”

“And what if I do?” I asked, rolling onto my back and stretching my body. “I’ve already been reading for a good fifteen minutes, which is a lot for such a boring book.” He let out a chuckle as he turned back around, already starting to refocus on his own work. I stared at the book sitting next to me in disgust, not wanting to even think about picking it up again. Instead, I turned to look at Edmund who seemed to be deep in thought as he read from his chemistry textbook. I’d always admired his work ethic and how he was able to continue studying for long periods of time, no matter how tedious the subject may be.

His back muscles were tense as he hunched over the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He rested his head in one hand, the other assigned to flip the pages of the textbook. I admired how his biceps flexed slightly underneath his t shirt, making the fabric wrap tightly around his skin. His lips were slightly apart as he read. I wanted to kiss them so badly but I knew he was too focused to do anything. 

But what if I were to convince him otherwise? I wondered what it would take to break the spell of concentration Edmund was under. I imagined running my hands through his dark hair, letting my breath tickle his neck. Would that do the trick? Or would he need more stimulus? I doubted it. I knew just a look could send him into a frenzy if I tried hard enough. I walked over to him, resting my hands on his shoulders. I slowly started to move my hands, working his tense muscles. He let out a soft hum at this. I felt him started to relax. I leaned down so that my mouth was next to his ear. “Why don’t you take a break?” I suggested in a low voice. His took a deep breath before turning to me. 

“You know I need to do well on this exam, (y/n),” he said.

“I know, but you also can’t tire yourself out.” I gave him a soft kiss on his neck, right behind the ear, and I felt him let out a shudder. 

“You’re only saying that because you want something. Isn’t that right, love?” I let out a soft chuckle.

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling you want it as well.” He let out a strangled moan as I planted another kiss, this time near his jawline. I allowed my hand to rest on his thigh as I leaned over his shoulder to look at his textbook. “You can’t possibly be able to read this for such an extended amount of time.” Edmund placed his hand on top of mine, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on my hand. 

“Look, I really need to at least finish this chapter. Why don’t you be a good girl and handle yourself until I can help.” I let out a dissatisfied noise before climbing into his lap. Edmund let out a chuckle as his hands grabbed onto my waist. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I need your touch,” I whispered, already starting to grind onto his crotch where I could feel something start to grow. 

“(Y/n),” he said in a half-moan. “I need to be able to focus. Could you please move? Just a bit.” I relented so that I was now straddling his right thigh instead of his lap. I let out a soft gasp at the friction as I moved. “That’s a good girl,” Edmund said in a low voice, giving me a soft kiss on my neck.

I started to move my hips, feeling the wetness between my thighs grow as I moved. I let soft moan escape my mouth, making sure they stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t distract Edmund who continued to read his textbook. One of his hands rested on my waist, offering me some support, while his other hand remained designated to flip the pages. I started to move faster as the pleasure grew. Edmund had started to chew on his lip and although he seemed to be concentrated on the page his was reading, his face had started to turn a light pink. My moans had started to become slightly louder and my voice jumped an octave when he lifted his thigh, adding more pressure. A smirk grew on his face as he did this and I had to bury my face into his neck. 

I savored his scent as I continued to grind on him. My moans had turned to desperate pants as I chased my high. It came to me in a wave, crashing over me and leaving me gasping for air. Edmund let out a low moan, his grip on my waist tightening as my body convulsed with pleasure. After a moment, I started to calm down and sat up right on his thigh. He didn’t wait to kiss me. It was rough and bruising and as he continued to kiss me, he lifted me up. I felt my back hit the soft material of our bed as he started to move his kisses from my lips to my neck. I barely had time to catch my breath.

“Damn you,” he said into my ear, his hands running up and down my body. “Now, after I fuck you, I’m going to have to reread my chapter.” 

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

It’s half past midnight as I’m starting this, who knows what time it will be when I finish it, let’s talk: Inej versus the Wraith.

Ok I’ve been thinking a lot about the distinction between Inej and the Wraith as a concept similar to the desperation of Kaz and Dirtyhands or Kaz Brekker and Kaz Rietveld, and I think I’ve noticed an actual trend in the books of using the epithet at certain times or in certain tones. For example, when the group find the pyre in chapter 19/20 and realise one of the victims is still alive, Jesper shoots them to end their pain. Kaz wanted Inej to do it since using her knives would be quieter than the gun, but she can’t bring herself to. In this moment, she is described exclusively as “Inej”. Later in chapter 20 she kills a parem-drugged fabrikator in order to save their lives, and is described as “the Wraith”. Not only is there the suggestion of a growing distinction between the two, but it is now being noticed by the characters as well as just the reader. For Kaz it’s really only the reader (and maybe Inej but I’d argue not to a full extent until Crooked Kingdom) who sees this distinction because we are closer to him than he lets anyone else get, we are the only people who really know what he’s thinking and see the two sides of his personality or the two potentials for who he could be. But with Inej it’s almost the exact opposite, we as the reader see the idea of the Wraith as an epithet invented by Kaz and an as empowering epithet designed to counter the dehumanising “Lynx” whilst still echoing the trauma of her past by linking very clearly to Inej’s descriptions of leaving her body behind and thinking “I’m already dead, I died in the hold of a slaver ship”, whilst the characters begin to almost refer to the Wraith and Inej as separate entities. I’m using Jesper as my example here since he’s the one to calll her the Wraith in chapter 20 - “trust the Wraith” - and the one to shoot the dying Grisha at the pyre, both to spare them and her from pain. It seems a sudden turnabout to go from a non-verbal or even any kind of communicatory acknowledgment that he needs to step in for her to expecting, trusting, and praising her for killing, but arguably that’s because he has seen a change in her during this short period of time.

It’s also worth noting that Nina almost always calls her Inej, in fact I don’t think she once calls her Wraith (at least to my immediate recollection, feel free to correct me) except when she uses the name to call Kaz out when he says “the Wraith can handle it” and she replies “the Wraith is a 16-year-old girl” and goes on to emphasise Inej’s injuries. But even in this scene, which is on the boat to Fjerda when it’s still unclear whether Inej will even survive and Kaz is talking about making her climb up the incinerator shaft at the Ice Court, Nina begins the conversation by saying Kaz can’t make Inej do that, and he comes back with “the Wraith can manage”. This suggests he sees a distinction between them as well, perhaps that Inej is a religious young woman who’s been left incredibly vulnerable but the Wraith is a hardened criminal with nothing to lose. By choosing to refer to her as the Wraith when he plans to put her through something so incredibly difficult, he is alleviating himself from the guilt of harming a vulnerable young woman by instead considering her as a hardened criminal. Nina calling him out in this shit (yeah I said it and I stand by it) clearly annoys Kaz or he wouldn’t have bothered arguing back to her, as he usually doesn’t. Arguably we could extend this to the idea that the others call her Inej when she’s the person they know and care about but the Wraith when she’s violent or commits crimes so they can actively choose to separate the image of warm, kind-hearted Inej from cruel or calculating Wraith.

Now everything I’ve said so far really comes down to perception so in terms of analysis it’s the kind of thing that you can say confidently and have accepted as accurate or at least as a reasonable interpretation, like when critics tell you that the dream sequence in Frankenstein can mean on of the following 5 things so you agree with them because they clearly know what they’re talking about. (Not that I’m saying the dream doesn’t mean one of those 5 things it can definitely be interpreted in those ways, it’s just an example of something in literature I’ve seen we kind of take as fact when it is, of course, all yo for interpretation). However, I want to be clear that what I’m going to say from now on can be considered a possible theory or interpretation of Inej surrounding her mental state and ptsd response. I’ve talked about it recently as part of other posts and I’m basically about to repeat myself word for word, but I wanted to compress this all into one post on the theme and include the stuff about the characters actually perceiving her that way too.

So first you we have a quote from the Crooked Kingdom Bathroom Scene™️, and what I’m going to say here is pretty much going to be exactly the same as what I wrote in my detailed breakdown and analysis of that scene, which if anyone wants to read is on my page or I can tag you if you’d like. The quote I want to talk about is: “I live in fear that I’ll see one of her - one of my clients on the street. For a while I thought I saw them everywhere”. Now I’m about to say there are 2 was to read this, but I mean this in a “I’ve read this is in two different ways” kinda way not in a “this can only be interpreted in these 2 ways” kinda way ok we’re embracing the de-classicising of literature here (I have no idea if that’s the right word or if that even makes sense but hopefully you know what I mean, I’m tired, bare with me) and we are open to any and all possible interpretations of things in any way they’re written so whooo if you read this quote in a different way let me know would love to hear it, these are the two ways I read it:

Firstly, that when she refers to “her” Inej means Heleen but edits her words as a continuation of this vulnerability she is forcing herself to share in this scene. If we exclude her being vulnerable with the reader, this is the most vulnerable we ever see Inej make herself - aka, this is the only time she allows herself to be deeply vulnerable out loud with another character. I think this closest other time we get is with Nina on the boat to Fjerda when Inej is trying to ward of flashbacks and she tells Nina why she doesn’t have the Crow Cup tattoo. However, that scene is written from Inej’s perspective and therefore gives her the opportunity to show the reader a lot more vulnerability than she shows Nina (eg when she has flashbacks the reader knows but Nina doesn’t because Inej is just egging her on to keep singing and distracting her; Nina knows something is happening but she isn’t being brought into the moment to share it because Inej isn’t in a position where she’s able to share her vulnerability) so our memory of this scene being particularly vulnerable is actually more about Inej being very honest with us, which of course isn’t an active choice, and less about her being very honest with Nina. Having the Bathroom Scene ™️ from Kaz’s perspective gives us the opportunity to have Inej’s openness and vulnerability in the scene far stronger since she has to say something out loud for us to know with certainty that she’s thinking it. Arguably if it had been a less vulnerable scene, Inej would have said “her clients” in reference two Tante Heleen as an added layer of the separation she practices, but here she changes it to “my” clients because she is forcing herself to be uncomfortable because she wants to be able to be more open with Kaz and she wants to continue this vulnerability that she’s allowing herself ti have with him. I feel like I just some variation on vulnerable like 20 times.

The second way I read it is linking back to our main theme of Inej and the Wraith as separate entities. “Inej talks a lot about how she would leave her body behind to exist only in her mind, in passages I find particularly reminiscent of passages in The Handmaid’s Tale (although please note soc is not very explicit whereas tht is incredibly explicit). But to take that idea further, I think there are certain hints, and I think this is possibly the biggest one, to imply that one of Inej’s ptsd responses it to actually view herself today as a separate entity from who she was during her indenture, effectively saying ‘yes these things happened to this body but they didn’t happen to this mind so that should make it easier’ to herself, which is massively self-destructive in nature because it almost creates this idea that she needs to get over who she once was and move on, very similar to the way Kaz Brekker represses Kaz Rietveld. Arguably, what she’s saying is the worst of it is this fracturing of the self that has been created by what they put her through and that she cannot seem to escape from.” (I put that bit in quote marks because I didn’t feel like rewriting it so that’s copy and pasted exactly from my Bathroom Scene™️ analysis post)

Ok there’s one other specific quote I want to bring up and it’s the end of Chapter 2 of Six of Crows, I did talk about it in my favourite quotes analysis of the chapter (which I am planning to continue btw chapter 5 up next if anyone wants to read these posts for the previous chapters let me know and I’ll tag you).

"Inej pitied the boy who might die alone with no one to comfort him in his last hours or who might live and spend his life as an exile. But the night's work wasn't over yet, and the Wraith didn't have time for traitors"

This I think, unless there are more I haven’t noticed/thought of yet is the only other time we get an suggestion of Inej perceiving herself and the Wraith as separate, and it’s arguably more concrete than the amendment of pronouns I just talked about for a ridiculous amount of time. To me, this quote shows Inej as being the girl she was, the girl she should have been, and the Wraith being a creation of necessity to aid survival. Inej is a religious young woman from Ravka who has been through far more than she should have done, but the Wraith was born and raised on the blood-soaked streets of Ketterdam and has every intention of surviving them - no matter the cost.

(That was also pretty much direct quotes from what said before)

It is now quarter past one in the morning. If you made it this far then thanks so much for reading I hope it made sense and was interesting, I feel like I’ve made enough “me rambling about grishaverse after midnight” posts that we can call it a series so if I think of a good name for it I’ll go through a tag them all so if anyone fancies trying to wade through all my middle-of-the-night-analysis nonsense you can find it all together because let me tell you something I never quite acknowledge just how much I’ve posted until I have to scroll back through to find stuff I’ve said in order to reference it in a new post. Anyway, thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed and if you have any thoughts linked to this or grishaverse analysis in general please comment or send me an ask I would love to hear it.

EDIT: sorry, correction, I just realised Inej didn’t kill the parem-drugged fabrikator she killed the parem-drugged squaller; the fabrikator was Nina’s childhood friend Nestor, he died from a combination of injury and the drug

[babydollmarauders]

WORRY — ETHAN EDWARDS

ethan edwards x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “Please don’t cry.” with Ethan.

i pace the living room of sophomore house, tears pricking at the backs of eyes, and a weight pressing on my chest. i should’ve gone to the game. i had a bad feeling about it already, but Ethan insisted for me to stay back and work on my english lit paper that’s due tomorrow; so i listened to him. i shouldn’t have listened to him. if i hadn’t, then i wouldn’t be sitting here, waiting for him to come home to assess the damage.

what if it’s bad? what if he’s seriously hurt?

i was watching the game on the tv as i wrote my paper, but i was unable to continue writing when Ethan took a bad hit in the middle of the second period. he struggled off the ice and wasn’t back for the rest of the game, so now i’m worried out of my mind. i haven’t heard anything from him and i can’t figure out if that’s good or bad news.

the sound of the front door opening snaps me out of my thoughts, my head snapping over to watch as the boys enter the house one by one. my breath is caught in my throat as i wait for my boyfriend to come through the door, and i let out a deep sigh of relief when he walks in, seemingly okay.

“you asshole!” i call out as he takes off his coat. he looks at me with wide eyed and parted lips, shock overtaking his features.

“w-what?”

“oooh someone’s in trouble.” Mark sing-songs, causing the other boys to snicker.

“i was worried sick!” my tears finally drop to my cheeks as i scan him head-to-toe, relieved that he seems to be okay. “i’ve been nauseous at the thought of you being hurt! and you sent me nothing! no ‘i’m fine’ text! no ‘i’ll be okay’!”

Ethan haze softens as he steps towards me, his hands resting on my arms.

“hey.” he whispers. “i’m okay. just a bit bruised up with a mild concussion. nothing i can’t handle.”

he wipes at my tears, pulling me into his chest.

“please don’t cry. i’m sorry. you’re right, i should’ve texted you. but i’m seriously okay.” his lips are pressed to the top of my head, muttering the words into my scalp.

the other guys take this as their cue to break off to their rooms, calling out quick goodbyes as they hurry up the staircase.

“i’m never listening to you again. i’m going to all of your games. i couldn’t take the not knowing. i thought you were seriously injured.” i tell him. “and then you just walked through the door like nothing happened and i was so relieved, but so mad at you for not letting me know that you were okay.”

i sniffle and burrow my face into his neck, letting him hold me tighter as the adrenaline that rushed through my veins finally eases.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’ll make sure to text you next time.” he replies.

“text me? yeah, right. good luck keeping me out of the locker room next time.” he chuckles, running a hand over my hair.

“i don’t know if coach will let you in there.” he confesses.

“then he can be the one paying for my therapy after all the emotional trauma you guys are putting me through.” i say. “god, you’re exhausting.”

“let’s get you to bed.” he snickers.

“i can’t. i have to finish my paper.”

“you still haven’t finished your paper? jeez, what’s taking you so long?” he furrows his eyebrows, pulling away to look down at my face, and i roll my eyes.

“oh, gee, i’m sorry, next time you have a paper to write, i’ll go get hurt and then not tell you if i’m okay. then we’ll see if you can write.”

-

[cat3ch1sm]

Idea:

Tamaki (Ohshc) with Fem!reader who dislikes him and finds him annoying. Reader always wears kimono dresses and has a little knife up her sleeve (FOR SELF DEFENSE PURPOSES ONLY). So sometime she hangs around with Haruki and the rest of the club come (she only tolerates Honey cause he looks a kid) and Tamaki starts his romantic antics and she gets pissed so she just swiftly throws the knife very close to his face saying "The next time I won't miss."

She goes to unplug the knife from the wall, accidentally caging Tamaki between her and the wall.

Honestly I have no more ideas,so just go ahead and finish it as you like.

🐸~ hi!! missed you in my inbox <33 thanks for your request! i hardly ever write for ohshc😭 hope u enjoy, ily

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ fem!reader, knives

“It’s nice to spend some time alone with you,” Haruhi confessed, smiling a little awkwardly with a small laugh. “The host club has been all over me lately. I can hardly go to the bathroom without one of them on my tail.”

You and your friend, Haruhi Fujioka, were sitting outside in the courtyard of Ouran High School. Cherry blossom trees surrounding you and the occasional petal or two fluttered down into either of your hair, a gentle breeze blowing on your long dress. It was a free period, meaning students could simply do as they pleased for forty-five minutes. You hadn’t gotten to see Haruhi as often as you used to, so you were glad to steal your friend away for at least a little while.

“I agree.” You nodded, smiling as well. “Only time I’ve gotten to see you lately is when you’re with that infernal host club- and you know I can’t stand them.” Your smile faltered a little, and you folded your arms across your chest, the sleeves of your kimono rustling. “And I only tolerate Honey because he literally looks like a little kid. It feels morally wrong to hate him.”

Haruhi laughed out loud. “Senpai- sorry, Tamaki still bothering you?”

“To no end,” you replied bitterly, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, he can be pretty persistent. There was a phase for a minute when he was absolutely obsessed with me.” Haruhi cringed as she recalled it. Then she smiled again. “Luckily, when you came into the picture Tamaki totally forgot about me.”

You pursed your lips in a sour manner. “Yeah, you owe me for the rest of your life.”

“I know, I know!”

Haruhi’s amusement was contagious, and the two of you just sat there giggling for a minute before your laughter was cut through with a shrill scream of “Haruhiiiiiiiiiii!”

Haruhi immediately stopped laughing, her expression dropping as her eyes widened. You made a face, recognizing the yell instantly.

Tamaki came barreling towards the two of you, followed from a distance by the rest of the Host Club, tearing through the throngs of students until he finally reached you both.

“Haruhi! I’ve been looking for you all over!” Tamaki cried dramatically, throwing his arms around Haruhi in an exaggerated embrace. Haruhi let out a groan and thrashed around in his grip, snapping at him to get off, but he wasn’t listening. “Daddy was so worried when you weren’t in the music room! Free periods are our busiest time, and we can’t operate without our star host- well, second star host,” Tamaki whined.

“Senpai, I’m with a friend right now,” Haruhi grunted in annoyance, trying to pry his arms off of her. “Do you mind?”

“What friend could possibly be more important than being with us at the host club?” Tamaki demanded, turning vehemently- and that’s when he caught sight of you. You let out a weary sigh, already knowing what was coming next as the blonde’s eyes widened and that irritating lovesick expression softened his face. “Oh- it’s you, Y/N!” Tamaki exclaimed joyfully, abruptly releasing Haruhi and coming to stand in front of you. Haruhi dropped to the ground with a yelp, but when you moved to help her up, Tamaki blocked your way.

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered, dropping your head in exasperation. So much for a quiet period with Haruhi.

Tamaki, as usual, was oblivious to your obvious disinterest. “Why, Y/N- you’re looking even more radiant than usual today! Your skin is absolutely radiant in the sun.” He had that familiar gleam in his eye, the one that usually made girls’ knees buckle and cheeks flush, but all it did was piss you off. “May I humbly ask you to accompany the Host Club and I back to the music room? Such a dull place it is without your lovely presence…” Tamaki sighed as if in distress and placed the back of his hand on his forehead like a swooning maiden. You could practically see the sparkles gleaming off of him, and to be honest, it made you nauseous.

“Mhm,” you answered flatly. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

The rest of the host club had caught up with Tamaki by now, Kyoya and Mori helping a disgruntled Haruhi off the ground where Tamaki had dropped her. One of the girl’s arms in his grip, Kyoya glanced up from behind his glasses, watching the scene between you and Tamaki. “Clearly, Tamaki, she’s very interested in joining you,” he remarked sarcastically. “What a ray of sunshine, hm?”

“Like you’re much better,” you muttered in response. Tamaki hardly noticed Kyoya’s disdain, though.

“You’re interested?” he exclaimed, and before you could react he took your hands in his, twirling you around in a very theatric fashion that, much to your dismay, drew the attention of passersby. “Wonderful! To have someone like you join me at the Host Club… truly you are the most beautiful of them all.”

Your expression remained stony as you broke away from Tamaki’s grasp, smoothing down your kimono and blowing stray strands of hair out of your face. “You say that to every girl you meet,” you answered sourly.

Tamaki paused for a second in surprise, a slightly guilty expression appearing on his face. “Well, yes, but I only really mean it when I say it to you,” he offered sheepishly, hitting you with another one of those disgustingly blinding bright smiles. You let out a heavy sigh in response, and with your patience thinning you thought it best to not say anything.

“Wow, is free period almost over?” you asked offhandedly, checking an imaginary watch on your wrist. “Maybe I should be going-“

“Nonsense!” Tamaki exclaimed. “We still have twenty-five minutes left.” He suddenly reached for your hair, and before you could duck he plucked a pink petal from your head. Grimacing, you watched as he gazed at the petal with a downright corny amount of fondness as he brought it to his face.

“This flower was caught in your hair,” Tamaki explained, his voice sickeningly sweet, and you fought the urge to hit yourself in the head. “You are such a radiant creature that even the flowers wish to remain by your side. I will cherish it forever- as a token of your beauty.”

Tamaki’s dramatic antics had drawn something of a crowd by now- really just a handful of fawning girls who clung to every word he was saying to you. At this last remark they let out a collective squeal that made you wince. Behind Tamaki, Haruhi sent you an apologetic look.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, thoroughly exasperated. “Well, that’s definitely unnecessary. I’ll be going now-“

“But, my love, wait-“ Tamaki started, grabbing your hands again- but by now you’d had more than enough. All in one move, you tore your hands out of his, reached into the large sleeve of your kimono, pulled out a throwing knife, and hurled it at Tamaki with alarming accuracy. It was sheer luck that Tamaki wasn’t impaled through the face, dodging at the last minute, and the knife instead buried itself into a tree directly behind him.

The people around you went dead silent. Haruhi’s eyes were wide as frying pans and the host club members besides Mori and Kyoya wore equally disquieted expressions on their faces. Honey rushed to cower behind Mori’s long legs. Tamaki, eyes wide as well, was frozen against the tree, the knife barely an inch from his temple.

Not even noticing the looks of alarm directed at you, you tsked in slight frustration with yourself for missing. Keeping your gaze straight ahead, you walked straight up to Tamaki, who didn’t move an inch but whose eyes followed you like lasers, and pinning him just beneath you you roughly yanked the knife from the bark of the tree. But before pulling away with your knife in hand, you placed your lips at Tamaki’s ear, making sure only he could hear what you were going to say next.

“Next time I won’t miss.”

[m0rpheusm0th]

Morpheus Relationship Headcannons

I have a series coming soon, here's something small to hold y'all over. We need more sandman content on here.

 Let's start off by saying that this man loves you totally and completely. Anything you are insecure about he sees as perfect. Because of this, he will never use his powers to alter your appearance. Instead, he will help you to overcome your insecurities.

The only exception to this is if you are trans. If this is the case, he will give you gender affirming alterations. This will not include weight and things like that.

My man lives for simple domestic things. Come up behind him and give him a hug when he's talking with Lucien, brush a stray feather from his cloak, bring him snacks during long, tiring meetings. Sure he doesn’t need to eat, but he is very starved of affection and relishes in acts that show him how much you care.

He loves to spoil you. He’s very bad at words, so he will show how much he loves you by giving you gifts no mortal man could. It’s not like he just absentmindedly pulls hins out of the fabric whenever he wants, he really takes his time with each gift. He’ll spend hours shaping each and every one to perfection. You deserve nothing less than the best.

Going off of that, his proposal? Oh my gods. He spends months crafting the ring. He would finish one design, then spot one slight imperfection and scrap the whole thing. It needed to be as perfect as you, but he eventually learned that wasn’t possible, and settled for the best he could get. (Let me know if you guys want an entire set of headcannons on your and Morpheus’s engagement/wedding. I have severe brain rot).

Please for the love of the gods call him by his name. Not my lord or Dream, but Morpheus. Pet names are okay (Darling, Love, or anything that has to do with an inside joke are his favorites) but nothing tops the sound of your voice saying his name.

If you choose to live in the dreaming with him, you will share his quarters. He’ll let you do anything to alter them to make them more comfortable for you. He loves to walk into the once bare rooms to find a new plant added to the collection by the windows, or a stack of books next to the overflowing shelves.

On that thought, he loves seeing the remnants of you throughout the dreaming. A notateted bookmark in the pages of a book he hasn't opened in months, a jacket forgotten on a chair in the library. Or, if you're an artist like me, smudges of dried paint on desks or a crumpled up sketch in the dining hall. 

If you choose to spend the day in the mortal world, then he will provide you with the house of your dreams. Again, he loves to spoil you. 

After Lucien and Deaths encouragement, he finally learns to give you less extravagant gifts as well. Maybe every once in a while you’ll even find simple handwritten notes. Often, they are book recommendations or something small like that. His handwriting is either very elegant or very messy. No inbetween.

Very old fashioned lover. Holds the door for you, leaves you flowers at your doorstep, covers the corners of sharp tables with his hands when you lean down. 

I’ve talked about gift giving, but I think his main love language would be quality time.  He’s a very busy man, and doesn’t have the time to spend on a lot of one on one with you. Please please please sit with this man while he works and do your own thing. Lay across his lap as he studies in the library, come with him as he visits various dreams across his domain. Spend as much time with him as you can, even if he can’t give you his full attention. I promise it will pay off.

If you have a period, you will be completely cared for. You’ll be relieved of all your duties (if you have any in the dreaming) and get to relax in Morpheus's unfairly comfortable bed. You’ll have heating pads, painkillers, and food galore. Anything you could possibly want he provides. He will spend every moment he can with you (as if he doesn’t already). 

If you get along with Death, that’s automatic bonus points for you. Same with Hob, but more so with the former. Death absolutely loves you, and tries to knock some sense into Morpheus whenever he’s being petty or oblivious. She is also the one who convinced him to ask you out in the first place, if you weren’t the one to initiate it.

Speaking of his siblings, the only other one he would want you to meet is Delirium. If you treat her like an endless and give her the proper respect, that is another huge green flag in his eyes. She will really love you if you’re willing to hold friendly conversations with her.

He’s very bad at communicating. You need to force him to sit down and have a civil conversation when there’s a problem, and he often ignores or blows you off. Just keep pushing it, and he will eventually get it through his thick skull. Often, you will recruit Death to help you. 

Despite being one of the most powerful creatures to ever exist, he is incredibly insecure. Please give him reassurance whenever you can. Tell him that you love him and that he’s everything you could ever want and more. 

Overall, he’s a dense but incredibly caring lover

Let me know if you guys want more :)))