#There was always a form for myself in my head but it was like... a shadow person

[screampied]

Hello my love🩵 I know you’ve had a similar request to this before but I just love the way you write him so can we get soft dom choso who an obnoxiously big dick😵‍💫 like reader is trying to act like she can take it but he just knows she can’t so he just stays buried inside them and rubs their clit until she cums and is finally comfortable enough for him to move

trying to take big dick choso ★

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom choso, size kink, praise, whiny choso, cowgirl.

“just lie back baby,” you whisper against the shuck of his ear, gawking lovingly as his pretty long lashes flutter from your words alone. choso’s heart flutters dramatically by default, you’re hovering over his leaky tip and he can’t help but exhale out a low sigh of what’s to come. he’s all pent up and frazzled—he’s had a long day with dealing with irksome enemies and you told him you’d help relieve some of his stress. “wanna ride you.”

“o- okay,” he swallows, gently bringing his perspiring-coated hands towards your waist. choso’s touch was always so delicate, he stares at you all doe-eyed like and tries hard to suppress his moans once you finally hover over his top. you inhale, glancing down at his wide, mushroom tip that was leaking with various amounts of viscous candied pre. “you’re so pretty.”

his words of affection only make you pulse more between your thighs as you prepare to take him. inch by inch, once his tip bedaubs near your soddened entrance in such a sloppy fashion, you whine. choso’s overwhelmed with how pretty you look like this — in such a position, straddling him. he bites his lip as you’re barreling his length. with a brief jerk forward, he’s slowly easing his way into your folds before your jaw gradually swings itself open it utter surprise. then it hits you,

he’s fucking big.

almost right away, you feel the thick impact of choso’s stupendous girth,

you’re barely even moving but you’re still trying to take him fully. he hears the sudden change of patterns from your breath — they’re all trembly and erratic. with a cute look of worry, he nips a few kisses near your collarbone. “baby,” he whimpers, albeit it’s in the more form of a question. the softness of his fingertips brush against your skin as he feels you struggle to take him. “h-how is it? ‘s it okay? should i hold your hips?”

“i’m okay, ‘cho,” you huff out, almost positive at this rate you were gonna cum. you look down, feeling the pressure inside of you weaken only to then arise. as you grind your hips forward, you bite your lip with your head slightly throwing itself back. “f-fuuuck,” you’d croak out, slumping your limp arms around his broad shoulders. choso awkwardly holds onto you tightly, moaning himself from the way your gummy walls try to swallow him whole. “y- yeah, jus’ hold me okay? just like that, baby.”

“so warm inside,” he purrs, a sheepish smile tugging against his lips as he slouches back. you had him whipped—he needed you in such a carnal way that the tips of his ears burn a feverish hot. he’s feeling all of you all at once, your insides mashing against his, it was pure bliss. so warm, your gloopy walls itself were seductive—loose and clamping down on him, wringing against him voluntarily. “you can take it baby, s-so good, fuckkk.”

you could barely bare around him, the plump head of his cock continues to squeeze around you before you stay still, dragging your hands toward between your thighs.

choso watches with hazy eyes, your own fingers ghosting against your clit. “is it okay if i touch myself, choso?”

“you don’t have to ask,” he whines, his eyes softening as he presses a wet kiss against your chin. for a few seconds, you rub your fingers against your clit before he’s fully in. you moan, feeling his cock just sit still inside of you. choso swallows the lump residing in his throat before he holds onto your right hip with one hand. “even if you’re not riding me, you still look so b-beautiful.”

it makes his mouth water, you’re squeezing around him so tight, his breath is coming out in short pants as he’s just stuffing you full of his inches. choso’s big, you and him both knew that.

the raw stretch makes your mouth open ajar, you try to shift your hips forward but he’s just so big.

choso’s swollen sack sticks against your skin like glue. the lower undersides of his thighs burn, a scorching temperature of heat whilst you sit on him before he lies back. ripped abs of his curl and clench underneath his white tee as he suddenly starts to feel his own head theon back. with a low sigh, choso covers a hand over his face that was starting to brighten a cute tint of embarrassment.

“f- fuuuck,” and with that, you collapse right into your boyfriend. he catches you, soft inky pupils of his take in your beauty as you’re stuffed full of him. his cock remains still as a statue before you whimper once you feel his own fingers brush against your clit. “k- keep doin’ that baby, please. ‘m gonna cum.”

“i love your voice so m- much,” choso whines, feeling himself get sensitive himself from the hot warmth your clingy walls provide. it’s barely any friction happening but still — with his size, you’re basically getting fucked stupid. just without the delicious movement to back it up. choso starts to nibble on your neck, continuing to rub against your sweet drooling cunt. “praise me some more, please, t- talk to me, wanna make you cum.”

his voice— it was also sweet and shaky, you lift your head up to give him a quick kiss before moaning, “you make me feel so good, baby. keep rubbing me there, o- okay? jus’ like that,” and you press a kiss against the left temple of his cheek.

choso’s heart was about to explode— he was so in love, figuratively melting with his twitching shaft exploring your love cave.

“mmhn, cum for me. ‘s okay, make a mess so i can clean you right up princess.” he mutters back, hearing a familiar ring screech through his ears.

the pressure continues to alleviate, your entire body feels misty, everything’s a blur.

as choso’s thick fingers consistently strum against your sopping cunt, he’s still buried into your tightening walls before you finally let go. it’s as if everything’s going in slow motion.

your lips part and you gasp—a devoted, obscene orgasm finally rips out of your throat before your thighs shake over him.

skin to skin, body to body, he feels like you’re just stuck against him like a leech—clinging onto him like velcro, never ever letting go. that was perfect for choso because he didn’t want you to ever go anyway. you’re so pretty once you release though, eyelashes compressing together, jaw hung open, brows furrowing into a disbelieving curve—oh, you were in heaven.

despite how you weren’t able to ride him how you originally wanted— you were still a bit saddened by it, embarrassed.

choso notices the cute pout forming against your spit soaked lips before he cups your face. heaving heavily, he leans in to kiss your nose, a humming “mwah,” comes from him and your rapidly beating heart suddenly swoons. “i love you.”

“i- i love you too,” you puff out a single breath of fresh air, still feeling your thighs quaver from your recent teeth-shattering climax. as his dick was still tucked inside of your gripping walls, you mimic his gesture, kissing the tip of his nose. “you’re such a good boy ‘cho, did so good.”

“heh, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep praising me like that, baby.” he tries to joke— yet once he feels you shift your hips a little to move, he’s suddenly hard again. “o-oh fuck.”

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW!nightcrawler/GN!AFAB!reader

This is my fic for mine and @pompeii-for-elephants ' fic exchange!! Hope you like it!!! I know I said I was surprised at myself when I wrote the cable smut, but this??? HOT DAYMN. Also, special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their guide on german phrases for Kurt!

TWS: MNDI!!! Very tender Sex, PNV sex, shower handjobs, praise, cowgirl position, Nipple sucking, creampie. Kurt Wagner marry me I'm begging you

 You hated goodbyes, but worse than the goodbyes was the waiting. The nail-biting, anxious, unbelievably horrid waiting. 

  Kurt had been off on a mission with Logan and Rogue for about two weeks. You know it could be worse, understanding that some of these missions can take months at a time, but still. It was hard, being away from him for so long. You worried constantly about how he was, if he was okay, and if he needed anything. The moments where your mind was busy were moments of relief, as when you let your mind wander it always wandered back to him. 

  You’ve just dismissed your class for the day when Jean psychically gives you confirmation that the group of them would be coming home today, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost done grading assignments when you hear the jet above the school and practically scramble out of your chair. You hastily turn off the light and close the door, speed-walking down the hallway and then down the stairs to the bottom floor. You’re almost at the steps of the basement when you hear a *Bamf!* from behind you. You practically skid to a stop, whipping around and catching sight of Kurt with an excited smile.

  You’re the first to tackle him into a hug. He hisses in a bit of pain, and you quickly try to pull away when you realize that he’s hurting. He’s not having any of it though, keeping you held tightly against his chest as he holds you close.

  “Ich habe dich vermisst.” Kurt says, pressing his face into your hair and breathing you in. “I went to your classroom, but it seems that I had been just a tad too late.” You laugh at that, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away just enough to see his face. His smile is contagious, and you cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing your thumb against a dark bruise that looks to be forming under his cheekbone. 

 “Sorry to lead you on a chase. How are you feeling?” You ask. Kurt hums, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

  “Better now that I’ve seen you, Schatz.” You cock an eyebrow at that, and all he does is give you an innocent smile, albeit a tired one. You’re trying to be reasonable here, but god if it wasn't for a wave of cuteness aggression. You catch his lips in a kiss, so very thankful to have him back home. Kurt eagerly returns it, and you’ve certainly forgotten that this is still a school at this point. On cue, there’s a cough from somewhere behind you, and you separate from Kurt, only slightly embarrassed to be caught. It’s Logan, giving the two of you a knowing look and a bit of a smirk as he crosses his arms.

 “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but you’re still needed for the mission report, elf.” Logan says. Kurt winces, and you frown at the thought of being away from him again. But, procedures were in place for a reason. Kurt kisses you on the cheek, taking your hands in his just briefly before he has to leave.

The whole afternoon has gone by with Kurt still caught up with his responsibilities. You’re getting ready for the shower with only a towel wrapped around you when you hear Kurt enter your shared room. He gives you a greeting that sounds tired, and you can’t help but peek out of the bathroom door, spotting sweet Kurt as he sighs and sits on the bed, exhausted. You try not to stare as he begins to take off his suit, but it’s admittedly hard. You frown at seeing his exhaustion, and the dark purple bruises that he reveals as he peels out of the clothing. You think for a moment, but come up with something you decide was more than fair.

  “I’ll see you as soon as I can, Ja?” He whispers. You nodd, smiling in a way you hope is rather reassuring. He smiles back, before following Logan back into the basement.

  “Hey, Kurt?” You ask sweetly, leaning against the doorway. 

  “Yes, love?” He asks. He does a double take when he looks up, giving you a tired smile once his surprise wears off.

  “Join me?” You add on. His bright smile is all you need as an answer, and he scrambles to get out of the suit faster as you walk back into the bathroom. He teleports behind you as you start the water, dragging you backward into his arms to make you giggle.

  “Let me help you with that, Mein Schatz.” Kurt says as he unravels the towel from you. He hangs it on the rack before turning back to you, and you can’t help but get closer to him, holding his face in your hands as you place a kiss on his forehead. His yellow eyes watch you fondly, his hands falling on your hips and his tail swaying happily as you hold him. Your hands stroke his cheekbones, before trailing down to his chest, rubbing your thumbs across his collarbones as you look at the bruises on his chest and abdomen. You frown, trailing a hand to the area to gingerly stroke the skin.

  “You let Hank check you out?” You ask. Kurt nods, taking your hand in his own and pressing it over his heart.

  “Alles ist gut, Don’t worry for me, Liebchen. I’ll heal soon enough.” He says, and you sigh at him, giving him a concerned look. Kurt had always been a defender and protector, and yet he still brushed off his aches and pains. Even now he stands here, telling you not to worry. He gives you a sheepish smile, brushing a hand through your hair soothingly.

  “It’s wash night. Let me wash your hair for you?” He asks. You smile, but shake your head before pulling him to the shower.

  “I was hoping I could take care of you tonight.” You say. Kurt simply chuckles in response, following you into the warm stream of water. You start by washing his hair, being careful around his ears and eyes when you rinse. Kurt has no complaints as you lavish him with attention, almost purring as you wash him and cover him in suds. You turn him around to wash his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before continuing. You can’t help but be a little cheeky, hands trailing down south, teasing the skin around his hipbones before sliding back to grab a handful of his ass. Kurt jumps a little but only laughs, his tail swatting your hands away.

  “Cheeky.” He remarks, and you can tell he’s smiling. You let out a small “Can you blame me?” before your hands travel back around his front. You kiss the back of his neck sweetly as your hands wander up and down his abdomen. Kurt sighs as he leans back into you, relaxing in your arms.

  Your hands begin to wander, trailing down to his cock as you just barely brush your fingers along his length. Kurt gasps, tail curling around one of your thighs as his head leans back.

  “Schatz…”

  “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You whisper into his ear, hands moving to his thighs, tracing the sensitive skin. “I know you’re tired, so just… let me know.”

  “No... no. Please, continue.” He begs, the tip of his tail swaying idly between your thighs. You kiss the skin below his ear as you begin to caress him again, gently stroking him to hardness amongst the soapy suds. His gasps and choked moans are lighting a fire inside of you as you stoke the one in him. You nip and suck on the sensitive skin of his ear, addicted to the feeling of him against you, and the sounds he makes in your hold. 

  He lets out a curse as you thumb the head of his cock, collecting a bead of precum as you stroke it back down his shaft. Your other hand drifts a bit lower, teasing his balls before you give them a gentle squeeze. Kurt lets out a little “-ah!” and a whine as you build him closer and closer to the finish line. His cock twitches in your hands, his breath coming in shaky pants. His hands reach back for your thighs, clenching and unclenching as he reaches closer to his peak. You pick up the pace of your strokes, and he lets out a loud whine when he cums. You stroke and kiss him through it, sucking a hickey into his skin as his hips thrust and legs shake. His cum coats your fingers when you’re finished, sticky and creamy in consistency. 

  “Feel better?” You ask. Kurt chuckles in response, taking one of your hands in his own, still coated in his cum. He kisses it before ducking it into the stream of water, cleaning your hands off before he turns around and kisses you. His tail wraps around your waist as he draws you as close as possible, only letting you go once he's had his fill.

  “Let me have you,” He whispers. “Please.” You're breathless at the words, biting your lip as you think it over. You kiss him again, and then a second time for good measure.

  “I don't want you to strain yourself. You've had a long day.” You tell him. Kurt pouts at you. His tail tightens slightly around your waist. You sigh with a smile at the look he gives you, his eyes half-lidded and needy. 

  “Okay, but I just want you to lay back and relax, alright? Let me do the work.” Your palms are set on his pecs, slowly sliding up and down the area. “Let me take care of you for a change.” You whisper. Kurt smiles at you, his tail unwrapping from your waist as he backs you up to the wall of the shower. He's got you cornered into the wall, and he brings a hand up, shutting off the water after pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

  “As you wish.” He says.

  It's hard to keep up with what's happening between the shower and the bed, but once his back hits the sheets, you're engulfing him in love and praise, thankful to have him home and happy to serve him pleasure on a silver platter.

“You're so pretty, Kurt.” You hum, actively kissing across his fuzzy abs, a hand tracing the soft hair of his happy trail as you pay extra attention to the deep bruises he came home with. Kurt’s chest heaves, his hands clenching the pillow at his head as you lavish him in attention. The sight of him was stunning. Deep blue skin and pretty black curls… Kurt gasps underneath you as you drag your teeth bluntly across his nipple, and you can't help but smile at the sound. He's rock hard underneath you, flushed a pretty purple at his tip as his cock stands at attention. You don't let him stay painfully hard, stroking him slowly to scratch that itch he so desperately deserves to have scratched. 

  One of his hands unclenches from the pillow as you start to press kisses to his cock, teasing and licking the skin. The limb flexes by his hip, and you take the invitation to lace his fingers between your own. It was a bit awkward to figure out when the two of you first started dating, but there was no mountain you weren't willing to climb if it meant returning the love he gave you in such abundance. You know he would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. You stroke him a few final times, kissing the sensitive head of his cock and sucking it into your mouth as one last effort to hear him whine before you’re straddling him.

  You grind your wet folds against his cock, perhaps a little more sensitive than usual. Kurt's lost in a world of pleasure, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you. You're absolutely soaked, already feeling like you could take him in entirely, but you continue to grind against him, spreading your slick across his shaft to make sure that there won't be any struggle on either end. His other hand comes down to rest on your hip, kneading the skin as you move. You squeeze your intertwined hands, resting your free one on top of the one he's placed on your hip.

  “I love your hands, you know that?” You murmur. Kurt responds with a moan as his hips jerk up, moving against yours. “-and your arms, your tail, and fuzz and- a-ah…” You bite your lip as the head of his cock catches on your clit. You're beginning to get impatient, even though you were the one who chose this pace in the first place. He just felt so good and warm against you- hitting all the right spots without even being inside you yet.

  “Please, love, let me- hng… I enjoy your words, and your praise, but perhaps too much. Spare me, please.” Kurt breathes. His grip on your hip has gotten rather tight, his tail winding around your thigh once again, like he does when he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He's waiting for you, you realize, and you want to do nothing more than kiss him silly.

  Instead, you do exactly what he asks for, and spare him. The head of his cock notches against your slit before he slides in without any effort, settling in comfortably for the both of you. Both of your moans greet the air at the action, surprised at the utter lack of resistance. You'd think that you'd have to be well prepared for this kind of thing, but no, seems that all you needed was Kurt.

  “That was… You feel…” Kurt’s struggling to get the words across, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure. You're trying your hardest not to balance yourself by leaning on him as you begin to slowly work your hips.

  “Believe- me, you did most of the -ah- work, handsome.” You say breathlessly. Kurt’s yellow eyes flicker open as you start moving earnestly, watching you ride him with conviction. Both of you moan when he happens to hit that spongy spot inside of you that feels so good. 

  “Danke, danke… Love- ah, fuck!” Kurt moans, his voice coming out breathlessly toward the end of his sentence. He doesn't curse like that very often, and it makes a flicker of heat light you up from the inside.

  “So good Kurt, you feel so good.” You gasp, each bounce of your hips causing his cock to stroke your insides just right. His hand on your hip begins to move up to your waist before it goes further to just barely brush against your sensitive nipples. You gasp again at the feeling, letting out an almost embarrassing moan.

  You're caught by surprise as Kurt is sitting up, letting go of your other hand to push you against him. He leans forward, his tail now flicking excitedly behind him as he sucks and nips at the skin of your chest. You rest your hands against his shoulders as you pick up the pace of your hips, addicted to the feeling of Kurt’s hums and moans as he sucks on your nipples.

  “I’m…I'm close-” Kurt barely separates from your body to say the words, his hands clenching against you has he begins to tense and twitch.

  “Ye-Yeah?” You ask, one hand tangling itself in his still-damp hair. “Okay, handsome- ah- I've got you.” You can feel him begin to twitch inside of you, each and every movement bringing both of you to your peaks. Kurt lets go of your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, catching you in an urgent and passionate kiss.

  “Cum for me, please.” You say in between his kisses. He simply moans in response as your hips begin to falter, a telltale sign that you're about to reach that sweet, sweet pleasure.

  Kurt cums first, tensing and shaking underneath you as spurts of his cum warm your insides. He brings a thumb to your clit to help you meet your own orgasm as you work him through his. Stars flash in your eyes as you hit that peak of pleasure, grinding against him, once, twice, three more times before you collapse against his chest. Kurt chuckles contently beneath you, rubbing your back and kissing the parts of you he can reach as you rest against him.

  “You okay?” You ask the moment you're back down to earth again. “I didn't hurt you in any way, did I?” Kurt shakes his head at you, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

  “No, not at all, Liebling.” He says fondly. “I'm not sure you could if you tried.” You can't help but smile at that, sighing into him as you rest against his chest. It feels good to have him back. He slips out of you before he lays both of you back down against the cushions, where you take your chance to pepper his face with kisses.

  “Ich liebe dich.” He says softly. “So much. Much more than you know.”

  “I love you more.”

[gilverrwrites]

Best friends to lovers, but it's Dick Grayson.

≈1.3K words, CWs: F!Reader, cunnilingus, dirty talk. Pet-names: Princess, baby girl, pretty girl. Rating: 18+ MINOR DNI

Your best friend Dick Grayson has no boundaries.

He helps himself to your food, swapping and changing dumplings for noodles, carrots for celery, dips his fries in your milkshake, without even asking.  

He leaves his dirty clothes in your washing hamper, ‘borrows’ your lotions, and leaves his streaming services logged in on all your devices. In the winter he puts his cold hands under your shirt, stealing your warmth, and laughs when you flinch. “But you’re so hot!” He whines, hugging you tighter, “Let me hold you a while longer, please.”

In the summer he struts around your apartment, shirtless and sheening with sweat, eating your ice cream, pumping up the AC so he and Haley can chill out post-run. Not that you mind, it’s just that ‘oh, no, he’s my best friend’ is a hard sell when you bring dates home.

At random hours of the early morning, he wakes you up by crawling into bed with you, clings to the over-sized shirt you're sleeping in that is clearly his and makes fun of your tattered old underwear. “They’re comfy!” “They’re… something...” He trails off, all dreamy and quiet, refusing to expand before falling asleep, and is gone by the time you wake up.  

Your best friend Dick Grayson brings you gifts from all over the world. Chocolates from that one mom-and-pop you once mentioned in Keystone, jewellery, and perfume he probably paid way too much for from market vendors in cities like Paris and Istanbul, risqué pieces of underwear from Milan.

On late nights, he rests his head on your tummy, settled between your thighs as you watch your favourite film series for the nth time, smiling to himself as you babble on about your favourite scenes, about facts he already knows because you already told him, but he wants to hear you say it again anyway. When you start falling asleep on the couch, he lifts you, bridal style with ease, and carries you to the bedroom. “Come on then princess, let’s get you to bed.” “I can do it myself.” “You can’t even keep your eyes open, let me.”

He brushes stray pieces of hair out of your face when you’re too engrossed in something to do it yourself, when your hands are too full to reach, or when he wants to get a better look at you, just because he loves looking at your face.

“Um, what are you doing?” He nonchalantly hooks his finger into the waistband of your trousers, disappointed when he gets a not-too-subtle peek at neither your endearing threadbare usuals, nor the lacey Italian ones he’d bought for you.

Your best friend Dick Grayson flirts with you blatant and publicly;

“The red or the blue?” “Neither.” “I have to wear something!” “I’d love to see you wearing nothing.” “Wear the blue, always the blue.” Jason would never let it go otherwise.   “What do you want?” “You.” “I meant to eat.” “Same answer.” “I could never be you.” “What? Why?” “Must be tiring, being that cute.”

He texts you when you’re not together. “Good morning pretty girl” “saw this and thought of you.” “What are you wearing?”

One day you text back a picture, a mirror selfie from behind, your skirt hiked up, showing off the tiny navy-blue thong and he doesn’t text back. You worry that you’ve taken it too far, overstepped a line. 

Until your best friend Dick Grayson is waiting for you when you arrive home, sporting a nasty black eye and a smile the size of titan tower. In actuality, that image was exactly what he’d been hoping for every time he messaged. That image had been ingrained in his mind since you sent it, and it was one thousand times better than he’d imagined. That image was his hook, time to reel you in.

“Sorry I didn’t text back, I was speechless. No really, I got this” he points to the purple bruise forming around his eye “because I was distracted, thinking about you.”

“It’s cool, you didn’t have to say anything.” You lie. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 

“Can I see it again?”

In the middle of your cramped kitchen, your best friend Dick Grayson lifts your skirt above your waist and drops to his knees, brazenly eying your folds. On request, you take the skirt from his hands, holding it up, exposing yourself as you do a little twirl for him, letting him see the full picture. 

When he lands a playful smack on your ass-cheek he grins, thrilled by the playfully petulant look you fire at him over your shoulder. When he runs a finger over your clothed slit, he’s even more delighted by the way your body shivers, by the hint of wetness he can feel seeping through the thin piece of fabric.   

You don’t stop him when he hooks a finger in the crotch, pulling the obstructing lace to the side, or when he runs his fingers through your now exposed lips. Deft fingers tease you, ghosting over your clit with no real fiction, making your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Want something?” The sight of him at your feet, watching you through defiant eyes has you weak.  

“Yes, touch me.” The sight of you, spread and writhing has him near feral, but he wants something more. 

“I’m already touching you, Princess.” He laughs, his warm breath against your slick tingles. If his breath is enough to make you quiver, he can’t wait to find out what his tongue will do to you. “Ask for something else. Nicely.”

You’re not sure exactly what he wants you to say, so you stammer the first words that come to mind; “Please Dick, stop teasing. Just do whatever you want to do, I want it too.” 

It’s enough. 

Your best friend Dick Grayson lifts you by your knees, setting you on the counter and securing your thighs over his shoulders as he descends on your folds. He’s messy and desperate, unable to get enough of your sweetness, darting his tongue in every direction until he finds the select few motions that have your fingers curling in his hair, have you panting his name between loose lips.

When you start to roll your hips, using his mouth for your own pleasure he can’t help but moan, the reverb sending further vibrations through your body that has your toes curling. He’s rock hard, itching to palm his cock, to grind it against the closest surface, but that’s an afterthought. He won’t get off until he’s lapped up your climax at least once. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” His words are slurred, muffled between your legs, unwilling to pull away long enough to get his words out cohesively. “I want you to cum all over my face, okay baby girl?”

If he wasn’t already salivating against you, Dick’s mouth would water at the sight of you. Your body begins to jerk, your back arching, head thrown back as your orgasm hits you, his firm hands tighten around your legs, locking your lower body in place until all your tension is gone, and his face is soaked with your fluids. 

As you come down from your high, he savours the flavour, occasionally licking up stray droplets from your skin. He admires the way you look, head lolled to the side, eyes static under heavy lids, jaw slack, until it’s too much, until he needs to see you high on his doing once more. Without warning he lifts you. The collar of his shirt is damp, his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable for round two.” Your best friend Dick Grayson says as he cradles your body in his arms. 

[sodaabaa]

reunited a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

tw: none

Five months. That’s how long I’d been trapped with Tamlin and his court of thorns. Once upon a time I was happy here, happy with him. Now, it took everything I had to control myself from scratching his eyes out every time he looked at me. Every word he said, every condescending explanation he gave me as to why he thought, why he believed that Rhys had manipulated my mind, drove me insane. Leaving this godforsaken place with Rhys all those months ago was the best decision I’d ever made. Now I was stuck here all over again. Caged in a rose covered prison, suffocated by piles of tulle and chiffon and silk.  

I hadn’t shown Tamlin, or anyone, any of the powers I had. I didn’t tell him what I was. Rhys and Amren had figured out that I was an angel. Centuries before the fae emerged, angels ruled the heavens and the Earth. Once the fae were created after years of evolution, the angels died out. But while the physical form of these beings may cease to exist, their souls don’t. Their souls are still here, roaming through the heavens. I guess the angels knew war was imminent in my lifetime so they breathed an angel’s soul into me when I was born and I’d gone all those years unknowing of what I was, what I was capable of. Until I had found out what Amarantha had done to Rhys. 

As if one cue, a piece of paper appeared on my nightstand with a coal black pen. 

“You’re thinking about me aren’t you” I could hear his arrogant smirk in those words.

I smiled, that bastard always knew, even if we were thousands of miles apart. I picked up the pen to write back but as I was doing so, the door opened and I quickly hid it under my pillow. My smile fell.

“I brought you some paints.” Tamlin paused, unsure of what to say next.

I merely looked out the window and said, “I have no inspiration.”

He frowned, “you’re in the Court of Spring, what more inspiration do you need?” 

The swirling night sky. The shimmering golden lights of the City of Starlight. His black, satin wings that carried the midnight sky with him. 

Oh, how sweet, your description of my city and my wings flatters me darling. 

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from smiling like a fool. 

Tamlin must have taken great offense to my comment, he left without giving me a chance to respond. Good. 

I anxiously pulled out the pen and paper. 

“He could have seen the note, be careful next time you prick.” 

I set the items on the desk and within seconds it vanished, and reappeared just as fast.

“I miss bickering with you. I miss you.” Such simple words yet my heart ached with longing.

I wrote back, “I miss you too. Just a few more days, I need to convince him to side with us.”

The paper vanished and never returned. 

I shifted in the bed I’d been in for hours, refusing to socialize with anyone at the manor. Everyone was blindly loyal to Tamlin and I knew if I left the manor grounds, they’d instantly report to him so I had no reason to even bother faking a smile towards those vipers. I looked out to the night sky, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the velvety blue skies of the Night Court but it was still a reminder of who ruled those skies and it comforted me regardless. With that thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The voices of Tamlin and Lucien could be heard from a mile away. They were arguing over my freedom. I paused on the stairs, my blush pink dress swaying with the movement.

“How long are you going to keep her locked up hm? You can’t keep her here forever.” Lucien spat.

“Until Rhysand isn’t a problem anymore. Until I know he won’t come to take her again.” 

I rolled my eyes. Imagine being deluded enough to think you could beat Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. I scoffed. Their heads turned in my direction. I covered it by clearing my throat and smiling, resuming my path down the stairs.

“Good morning my love.” I held back a gag. 

Tamlin smiled, the fool really thought I was in love with him. “Good morning, we were just finishing up our conversation.” He shot a pointed look at Lucien. 

I smiled, lips in a thin line. He wanted to keep me locked up like a prisoner, still. 

I took a seat between Tamlin and Lucien. “Can we speak in private please Tamlin.” 

He gave me an exhausted look, he knew what I was going to ask. Despite that, he sent Lucien away with a wave of his hand. 

“I know what you want to say and you already know my answer.” He said.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“It’s been three months since I saw something outside these walls. Send an escort of guards with me if you want but let me go somewhere, anywhere.” I shouted.

He looked at me through his brows. “You know better than me, I could send an army of guards with you and Rhysand would slice through the brigade like butter to take you away. I won’t risk it.”

He was standing now, trying to intimidate me into compliance. 

“And I won’t be kept here like a prisoner! In what world is this love?”

“I’m protecting you!” He growled

“You’re suffocating me!” I yelled.

“Enough. There will be no further conversation about this matter.” 

I stilled. And then I felt it. I could sense him before he’d even arrived. I looked past Tamlin and to the doorway. 

Rhys. 

He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, ever the nonchalant High Lord. His violet eyes looked over me head to toe, scanning for any signs of injuries. 

Tamlin must have noticed I was looking past him and turned. He moved to shield me, beginning to shift into a beast. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in my body was shouting for me to run to him. So I did.

Tamlin shouted after me and guards ran in but they froze as soon as they ran into the room. It felt as if I’d been running for miles before I crashed into his chest, he stumbled back but his arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. My entire being relaxed into the embrace as I held him tight. 

“Miss me?” He breathed into my ear. 

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded into his neck. He let me down just as Tamlin was approaching, rage burning in his eyes.

I stood in front of Rhys as Tamlin began charging. I crossed my arms and Tamlin met with a wall of light. He bounced back but got up instantly. Like twin flames, Rhys and I let out our wings, his midnight black wings contrasting with my soft white.

Tamlin froze, he hadn’t known about my abilities.

“What are you doing? He’s manipulating you, turning you against me.”

I scoffed. “You turned me against you.” 

“I love you.” He said in a not so loving tone. 

“Rhys loves me. And I him.” 

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away and lunged for Rhys who easily dodged his advances.

“You’ve gone soft Tamlin.” Rhys taunted. 

Tamlin lunged again, this time he managed to grab Rhys, who was unimpressed. 

“I’m going to skin you alive.” He said through his teeth.

Rhys merely rolled his eyes and looked at me as if to say, ‘look at this guy.’ 

Rhys grabbed Tamlins arms and twisted them, kneeing him in the gut and throwing him onto the floor all in one swift motion.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to even land a punch, dear Tamlin.”

This time, Tamlin didn’t get back up. Rhys was holding him down with his mind. 

“We’ll spare your life on one condition.” I spoke to him. 

His nose flared, he’d rather die than submit to Rhys.

“You ally yourself and your army with us for the war. Hybern will slaughter your people and take your court as soon as the war is over and you know it. Don’t lead hundreds of innocent lives towards their death because of a grudge you hold towards Rhys.” I continued.

“I’d sooner die than work with him. And you. After all I did for you, traitor.” He spat.

I could feel the anger roll off Rhys. He stepped in front of me but I grabbed his arm.

“After all you did? After Amarantha, I was wasting away. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. And all you did was lock me up like a caged animal. You couldn’t even look at me longer than a second.” My voice rose.

“Do you know what the first thing Rhys did to me when he took me away on our wedding day?” I didn’t give him the time to respond.

“He looked at me, listened to me, he made me feel alive again. It’s ironic isn’t it? Living in the Spring Court where all bloom to life. Except me. I withered away like a dead rose. But I blossomed with Rhys at the Night Court, the realm of death so many call it, but it breathed life into me again.” 

Tamlin stared, blank. “Go to hell.” 

With that, I left the Manor and let Rhys have his fun. 

We landed in Velaris, my beloved City of Starlight. I was ecstatic and Rhys felt it as we walked up the steps to the town house. Home. The word kept repeating in my head, I still couldn’t believe it. 

When we walked in, we were greeted by Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They kneeled as we stood in the doorway. 

My hand slipped from Rhys’ and I ran towards them, dropping to my knees. 

“Please don’t kneel. I just want a hug from each of you.” Tears fell from my eyes. I missed these four with my whole heart. Last I’d seen them, Cassian’s wings had been shattered, Azriel and Mor were bloody and bruised. I was worried sick. 

They all hugged me at once, I was squished in between the four of them. I let out a laugh as we withdrew from the group hug and Rhys chuckled behind me. 

“You bastards never react that way when I come home.” He walked towards us. 

Amren sent daggers at him with her eyes.

“Maybe we don’t like you as much Rhys.” Cassian said. 

“Then maybe you can find a place at the Court of Nightmares instead of Velaris, Cas. They’d be happy to take in an invalid such as yourself.” He threw. 

Cassian shook his head laughing. “You’d miss me too much.” 

The five of them began to bicker, their voices booming throughout the house. My eyes fleeted between them, trying to keep track of who was saying what. 

I smiled, It felt like I never left. 

[museaway]

As requested, here's how I trained myself to wash the dishes pretty much daily.

Dishes and laundry have always felt insurmountable to me. It's probably because they never end. I live alone and I don't have a dishwasher, so I have to do the dishes whether I like it or not. I would much, much rather watch YouTube than do chores, so here's how I get around that.

(It's long so I'll put it behind a cut.)

Disclaimer: What works for me might not work for you. We all have different lives and situations. Take what works for you and leave the rest.

--

Solution #1: Make it low commitment

Sometimes I look at the sink and think, "I have to wash all of these?? It's going to take FOREVER. I'll do it tomorrow."

On those days, I challenge myself to wash dishes for the length of one song. It doesn't matter how many dishes I wash, just that I wash them for as long as the song plays!

Sometimes the song will finish and I'll feel up to washing for just one more. Usually, I end up listening to three or four and clean the whole sink. But if the song ends and I want to go do something else, I'm allowed to.

Try working up to multiple times a day.

Make a playlist with songs that make you feel energized! I use anime OPs because they're loud and fun to sing to.

Be gentle with yourself. If you washed one cup, that's great! That's a clean cup! That's one more clean cup than you had one song ago.

You're taking care of yourself by doing this. Really, it's a great kindness you're doing yourself and your family by cleaning something! You deserve to be taken care of!

This method also works with putting away folded laundry. If you don't want to use music, set a timer. Work for 3 minutes and stop.

--

Solution #2: Gamify it

When I have a little more energy, the goal changes:

"Can I clear the sink before this song ends?"

"Can I wash all of these within three songs?"

"Can I wash this cup before the chorus?"

This technique really motivates me. I tend to focus and work efficiently since I'm trying to beat the song. If I don't make it, I usually give myself another song or two. It's rare that I stop until the sink is clear.

Whether you beat the song or not, you've washed a bunch of stuff, so you win either way!

This technique also works for putting sheets on the bed, dusting, taking the trash out ("can I get back before the song stops??"), etc. Timers can replace music here too.

--

Solution #3: Use a habit tracker

The above solutions got me to stop leaving dishes in the sink for three days, but I was still leaving them overnight. To train myself to wash the dishes every single day, I made it a nightly chore for a solid month.

I used a habit tracker so that I got to check it off every day! I love checklists, so this was terribly satisfying.

I've tried a slew of habit trackers and hate all of them except for this one by TheFor. It's simple, has color coding, supports habit-based goals (like dish washing 7 days a week, or sweeping the deck once a week), and displays an overview so that you can check if you missed any days! Free on the Apple and Play stores. This isn't sponsored; I'm just a fan.

It took a month for my new habit to form, but it did! I'll now go wash the dishes when I see them in the sink, although I still use the first two solutions to keep it from feeling like a chore again.

--

Hand-washing tips:

Dish gloves will save your hands! Get a pair you like

I like a wooden dish brush with a replaceable head

I think it helps to like the scent of your dish soap

Get big, easy-to-clean things out of the way first. They take up a huge amount of room in the sink and make the situation look worse than it really is. Think colanders, cookie sheets, the pot you only boiled water in.

Wash things in categories. For example, I like to wash all of the mugs at once. It seems to go faster that way.

Leave the hardest-to-clean stuff for last so it can soak.

Paring down my mug collection sincerely helped the mug overload. Maybe put spares in a drawer for a while.

Sing while you work

--

Here's my dish washing playlist

[nerdyloverparadise]

IM DONE STARVING YOU GUYS!!

Pt.3 of Chuuya Fanfiction/Headcanons.

2.2k Words

Disclaimer: This is basically like a fanfiction to the Headcanons. Explaining the course of which the reader and Chuuya "nurtured" their relationship. This is only the first part of the story because I didn't want to continue starving the people for so long so please enjoy it. This scene was recommended by someone also to include so I did my best. It contains the following things: groping, harassment (not from Chuuya!), choking, cursing, unspoken tension. ENJOY!!

Months went by of working in the Port Mafia together and upon analyzing how well Chuuya mentored you, Mori decided to partner you both often on missions. Oftentimes it was you, Chuuya, and one other person who was a strategist. The partner hated tagging along due to you and Chuuyas banter but it's just a regular occurrence at this point.

JEALOUSY

Now that we’ve set the groundwork… How did you two end up falling for each other? It all started when Mori assigned you both to a mission—one that would reveal just how jealous Chuuya could be when someone else laid hands on you.

The mission involved seducing a big-shot gambler to draw him away from his table long enough for Chuuya to search his belongings and determine if he needed to be eliminated. The man might be innocent, but Mori’s philosophy was always better safe than sorry.

Mori: I have a task for both of you.

Chuuya and You: What is it?

Mori: This man might be in cahoots with a well-known gang around Yokohama. I need you to locate him and search him for any leads.

-

Chuuya: I could handle this by myself.

“As if, you always need me.” You nudge Chuuya’s shoulder, and he immediately wants to toss you out the window.

Chuuya: I do not NEED you!

You: Yeah, right. You need me like you need your next breath.

For some reason, this line struck a nerve with Chuuya. Not because it angered him, but because it sparked a twinge of desire. He enjoyed bantering with you, realizing that his days without you were a blur compared to the ones you spent together on missions. He grits his teeth and clenches his fists, his cheeks growing red as his breathing becomes shallow and jagged. Mori, of course, notices Chuuya's sudden silence, his hand raking through his hair to appear casual while his face flushes crimson.

Mori: I have an idea, Y/N. You’ll play an imperative role in this mission. I need you to seduce the gambler. It's a quick and easy way to ensure our success.

You: Alright, that's fine. Nothing difficult.

Chuuya’s eyes widen as he processes what Mori just said. Seduce? Seduce??

Mori: Unless… our fiery friend here has a problem with that. Huh, Chuuya?

Chuuya: Problem? No, there's no problem. Why would I have a problem, Boss?

Mori: Judging by the redness of your face, the sudden lack of aggression, and the sweaty palms… I just wanted to ensure you’d be okay with her seducing another man.

Chuuya didn’t quite know what he was feeling, so he vehemently rejected the suggestion.

Chuuya: What the… groans Let’s just find the guy, Y/N.

He's dragging you by the arm out of Mori’s office, his hat over his face to hide his flushed expression. He doesn't speak for a while, walking straight out of the PM with you stumbling behind, struggling to match his long strides. He must be really bugged by something; you didn’t know he could walk that fast.

Later, you both enter the casino, greeted by flashing lights and bustling aisles. Addicts play their hearts out, sending their money spiraling down the drain. You walk in front of Chuuya, your hips swaying fluidly with each step. Something clicks in Chuuya's head—his eyes are glued to the sleek motion of your backside instead of his surroundings. Shit… Why the hell am I so entranced by this? They've always worn this, what’s different today?

You’ve put on something more form-fitting for the mission, a little more business casual but not completely safe for work. Your curves are hugged in all the right places, and he can’t tear his eyes away. How your legs are so nice, toned, and thick, just like…

You continue to scan the area, and Chuuya makes his way to your side. “See anything, brat?”

“No, not yet, Chuus.”

“Chuus? Seriously, you're such a loser.”

“It’s just a nickname, don’t be a dick about it.”

As you both move through the casino, you spot a big, burly man at a table with a group of alcohol-reeking guys. He’s holding a deck of playing cards, spinning one on his fingertips. His chest hair peeks out over his half-buttoned shirt. Not only does he look like a big-shot gambler, but he also has a suspicious duffle bag under his chair.

Chuuya, that’s definitely our guy.” Before Chuuya can react, you’re already walking over and asking to sit on the man's lap. All part of the mission. Chuuya lingers in the distance, but his eyes are locked on you both. Watching as your hands grace the man's chest, seducing him into letting you sit in his lap. Your fingers trail down his neck, and you whisper compliments into his ear with your lips brushing the lobe as you speak. The man looks at you like you’re the hottest thing on earth, cards damn near spilling out of his hands as his friends watch in awe, and Chuuya is clenching his fist, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

“I fuckin’ hate that brat. No way.”

The man's rough hands wrap around your arm and pull you onto his lap. He adjusts in his chair a little before continuing his game. Throughout the entirety of it, you can feel his pants tightening underneath you, the groin area of it pushing against the swell of your ass. You use it to your advantage and grind down into him causing his breath to hitch.

“Ya like that?” You whisper into his ear, catching a glimpse of Chuuya out of the corner of your eye. He looks fine.

“Don't start sumthin ya can't finish, sweetheart…” He responds, his voice husky and smooth, like how a villain would sound. A large hand comes down to rest on your thigh, pulsing between light squeezes and ones with more pressure.

Chuuya’s eyes are piercing your skin like bullets now. It feels like his clothing is tightening on his body, leaching to his flesh as it collects sweat. His eyes are glued to the hand on your thigh, his mind wandering as he watches it ripple with each touch. Anyone who was watching him right now would see him unballing his fist and latching his hand onto his own thigh, squeezing it tightly in his hand in tandem with what he was seeing. Suddenly the burly man stands up with you still in his arms, his big thighs scooting the chair back for him. You look no less than cocky with a big grin on your face. The man has you in his arms bridally, your upper body reclining against the crook of his arm, head suspended in the air, and hair cascading downward under the pull of gravity.

“Got sumn to take care of now, boys. I’ll catch ya later.” He steps out from between the chair and the poker table, leaving the duffle bag under his chair as planned. This was supposed to be Chuuya’s cue to collect it, to search the contents for anything suspicious, but his feet felt cemented in place by the weight of his envy. Why? They were always at each other's throats, so why the sudden concern? Not even he could answer that, but the pool of warmth forming in his pelvis could. He eventually snaps out of it when he sees your arm waving frantically, echoing the look on your face as you mouth, “Chuuya, grab the bag!” The man rounds the corner, disappearing along with his muscular frame and you in his arms.

You barely had half a second to scrutinize Chuuya's face, and all you could see was pure aggravation. That's the only detail you could fixate on as you were whisked away to the casino's backrooms. Then, Mori’s words echoed in your ears, emphasizing the flush on Chuuya's face when you mentioned how indispensable you were to him—like his next breath. Were you truly that indispensable? It was meant to be a joke, but Chuuya's intense scrutiny of the man's hands as they cradled your thigh with a fervor that mirrored his gaze during heated confrontations left you questioning. That same blazing passion, usually only unmasked when you were at intense odds, was being applied to this situation too. The realization dawned on you with startling clarity---was he starting to feel something for you?

Chuuya darts over to the table, his mouth deduced to a thin line, masking any trace of emotion. The men at the table didn't pay too much mind to the bag being stolen so it was simple enough. He tucks himself away into a corner and starts to search the bag. There was money, obviously stolen, artifacts, and documents of certain government information which was supposed to stay under lock and key. “Yeah… we definitely got our guy. Great for me, I'm itching ta-” His remarks were cut short by a throaty scream. “Get the hell off of me!”

Chuuya knew that yell like the back of his hand, he'd encountered it time and time again back at headquarters when he was screwing around. He dropped the items that were inside of the duffle and looked up, his eyes skimming to the side slightly as if the sound were right next to him. “Whattt? Thought ya liked me, sweetheart?” He was damn near ready to hurl at the commotion. He knew exactly what was going on but his body was frozen momentarily, his mouth slightly ajar as he crushed the handle of the bag in his hands. “Pretty collar ya got there. Let me show you a good time, little doll.” A smug grin plastered on his face from ear to ear. “Come on, you were damn near riding my thigh earlier, I know you're just ready for me down there, yeah?” His lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and rank with liquor. Your little frame was smashed into the wall by his hunky one and he wasn't relenting, not even when you started to sweat and squirm, a look of terror in your eyes that didn't betray the fear shooting through your body.

It was almost as if Chuuya could hear the leather of the choker burning into your skin as that man's hand came down on it tightly. The slight squeak and scrunch it made against your flesh as your chin flew up into the air, throat straining for oxygen it wasn't receiving. His rough hands were unyielding, merciless, as they pushed your back flush against the wall. Your head was thumping now, blood running through it like a riptide as it bumped the wall several times, but you couldn't blow your cover, not even when his hands started to wiggle their way down in between your bodies, trailing down your stomach like eerily soft trickles of rain.

“Nngh.. Ah-hach! CHUUYA--Goddamit! TODAY PLEASE!” The voices were very faint but Chuuya could hear them perfectly clear. His knees steadied as he got up from his squat quickly, using his gravity manipulation to make himself a bit lighter as he darted to the corner he'd seetn you get whirled around earlier. His body seemed to take initiative before his brain did. What was happening to you hadn't even had time to register properly before he was already halfway to where you resided chaotically.

You were starting to gasp for air as the man's hand tightened around your neck firmly. Coughs littering the air around you.

“Who’s Chuuya, hm? Some twink, sweetheart? Doesn't matter, no one's saving ya.”

“He'll kick your-!”

“Ah… watch your mouth, doll. You put yourself in this situation and now… I'm gonna get my fix outta you.”

His hands seemed to pulse, allowing you enough air to keep your vision from going out. It felt like he was about to break the choker you received from Chuuya and that made a wave of anxiety shoot through you. A pit of uneasiness settling right above your pelvis. Your feet were starting to lift from the floor slightly, onto the tips of your toes. Your teeth clenched together in a desperate attempt to wiggle free ever so slightly.

“How would your mother feel if she knew this was how you handled women?” A familiar raspy voice echoes from around the corner, followed by a blaze of orange and red light. His glare was deadly, barely any time had passed before he had the man crushed up against the wall, feet off the ground with drool dribbling down his chin. 'And just so were clear, I aint a twink.’

You’re watching the whole display from the ground, having fallen to the ground when the man released you, hacking and coughing for air while Chuuya handled the rest. When he’d apprehended the guy and freed you, he scowled at you with an intensity that rivaled a full on reprimand. His eyes were darkened and narrow, his lips stretched in a straight line. It’s like you could hear his thoughts, even in this half of a second. It wasn’t a normal seething rage, it was fueled by something deeper. Something so strong that his eyes seemed to talk on their own, like an “ill handle you later” type of glare.

[talesofadragon]

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

Summary: Like the ebb and flow of the tides, matters of the heart prove to be fickle. When love finds itself at a crossroads, each step forward holds the potential to either mend the fractured pieces or shatter the fragile bonds. As the path ahead becomes a dwindling maze of secrets and emotional infidelity, Y/N realizes that some promises need to be shattered for others to be forged anew.

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader, Theodore Nott x Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 1.9K

ACT TWO I miss what we never were.

Silver Promises Masterlist | All Masterlists

ACT ONE (You can also choose to read this part as a stand-alone)

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧,” Y/N whispered in my ear, her words like a mantra that never ceased to fade. 

Hours ago, when I was forced to agonizingly watch Draco propose to her, I felt as though the entire Wizarding World lacked enough air to fill my lungs. I didn’t recognize who I was, losing parts of myself to the enmity I felt toward Draco, the compunction that gripped me as I realized I had no right to hate him at the moment, and to the wistfulness of having to watch my little sprite potentially become something I could never offer her. The privilege to become somebody’s wife, somebody’s jewel, somebody’s Y/N.

I didn’t think it could get any worse. In hindsight, Y/N's answer, be it acceptance or refusal, would’ve been more merciful than watching her eyes roll to the back of her head. If I couldn’t breathe before, the moment made sure I was on the brink of death.

One moment, Y/N was falling, and the next, my feet crossed the distance, completely ignoring Draco kneeling above her unconscious form.

Waiting for her to wake up was pure torture. Partly because the sight of her frail body twisted my insides and majorly because the thought that she might wake up and accept Draco’s proposal made bile rise in my mouth.

“You’re not, Y/N,” I reassured her while playing with her hair as her head rested against my chest. “Breaking up with him doesn’t mean you’re horrible.”

She didn’t respond, and I knew she had drifted away to the memory of her saying no.

After she had woken up, she asked to see Draco. He harbored a scowl during his entire time waiting outside, and had it not been for Pansy’s intervention, Y/N wouldn't have been the only one lying unconscious under a healer’s care.

The Malfoys didn’t take too kindly to my behavior either. Luckily, Narcissa had calmed Lucius enough, too worried about Y/N’s well-being to reprimand anyone.

Watching Draco be the first to cross the distance between the waiting hall and her room at St. Mungo’s was torturous. Waiting outside for them to finish the conversation was worse. But then Draco walked out, tucking the velvet box in his suit. His face, always the veneer of apathy, revealed nothing to anyone.

Silently, Draco asked his parents to leave. Narcissa followed, albeit bemused, with Lucius in tow. Immediately, and without thinking about her parents or our other friends, I marched into Y/N’s room, searching for that bloody ring. Perhaps it was selfish of me not to look at her first, but I knew my resolve would crumble if I laid eyes on her, knowing she would be Draco’s wife in a few months.

When I looked down at her beautiful, nimble fingers, the absence of the emerald filled me with enough relief to look at her bejeweled eyes. But my heart reverted to its broken state when I saw the tears welling up in them.

Before I could help myself, I pulled her tight and kissed her forehead. Her sad eyes lifted. With a gentle nudge to her nose with mine, I blurted the first words that came to mind, “I missed having you in my arms, little sprite.”

I looked at her after noticing the slip-up, and I swear I saw her eyes light up. It was an unspoken rule between us that whenever one of us got into a relationship, we would refrain from getting too close to the other due to several misunderstandings in the past.

Nonetheless, Y/N smiled. She snuggled deeper into my chest, placing a hand on top of where my heart supposedly lay. “I missed this more than you know, Theodore.”

My fingers absentmindedly found their way back into her hair, weaving in and out, making her heart and mine fall into the same rhythmic pattern. The side of my lips lifted slightly at the reminder of my name tumbling from her lips. While everyone called me Theo, the little minx opted to address me by my full name, claiming that she wanted something that was her own. The thought alone made me smile.

“Little sprite?” I ventured, and she hummed in response. “Why did you say no?”

She fiddled with the hem of my shirt.

Nervous. Y/N was nervous as she supplied in a meek voice, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

I scoffed. “Figures you’d answer a question by asking another one.” She gave me a glare as if to say, “I’m serious,” and that immediately shut me up. “Alright. I do,” I sighed, catching her gaze drifting to the bed sheets.

“When I was thirteen, you told me something. Do you remember what it was?”

“You have to be a bit more specific, love.” She shivered, and I had no idea if it was because of my voice, the unexpected nickname, or something else. But I wrapped my arms tightly around her regardless of the reason.

Y/N kept her gaze low, replying shyly, “You told me I was your soulmate.”

“You broke up with Draco and refused his marriage proposal because of something I said ten years ago?” I asked incredulously without a second thought.

She glared at me again, which made me immediately drop the judgment and, to put it nicely, shut the bloody hell up.

Y/N cleared her throat. “When I asked why you said that, you told me it’s because a soulmate is supposed to make you feel whole. They’re supposed to be the missing piece you subconsciously yearn for.”

“I remember that,” I nodded.

“I know you didn’t mean it romantically,” she quickly added. “But the thing is, you were right about how a soulmate makes you feel. And I guess I never felt that way with Draco.”

I never recalled seeing Y/N’s eyes shine bright when it came to Draco. He was... is her friend, too. We’d known each other since infancy. Yes, she was happy-ish, but whenever he hugged or kissed her, her eyes remained the same. And I know, more than anyone, that Y/N’s eyes change color whenever they light up with excitement or wonder. It’s not a noticeable change, just a slight color shift; perhaps that’s why no one other than me ever noticed it. Not even her.

She tugged on my shirt, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Draco can’t be my soulmate,” she admitted. I waited with bated breath to hear her reasoning. “I don’t love him. Not in the way I—" she cut her sentence short, unaware that I was on the edge of my seat. But then, she added determinedly, "Not in the way a lover does.” 

A part of me knew, but another part refused to believe it. Every time Draco told Y/N he loved her, I never once heard her say it back. She'd kiss him instead, a chaste peck on the lips that lasted two seconds at best. Whenever he pulled her in for a long kiss, she’d pull away and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, preferring to hide her face in the crook of his neck. I don’t even think they were intimate with one another; the thought alone made me want to punch that bastard in the face.

“You’re such a sap,” I blurted, earning a slap across my chest. “Ow! Stop harassing me!”

“Not until you stop making fun of my misery!” Y/N retorted.

“I’m not! I just don’t understand why you dated him if you knew you didn’t love him!”

“Because...” she started angrily, cutting herself off, the word hanging heavily between us in the silent night. “Because,” she stated calmly this time, “he was like a haven. He was honest about his love for me, and he is one of my best friends. Not like you, though! No one can be like you,” she whispered the last part, and my stomach flipped. “He’s a good person. But that’s not the kind of love I want.”

“You want a partner in crime,” I said matter-of-factly, taking in the soft gasp that escaped her lips. “Someone who wakes up at three in the morning and spontaneously apparates you to the top of the Eiffel Tower to eat the best croissants, undetected. Someone who isn’t afraid to distract the receptionist at a restaurant while you discreetly search her list for the guests who have a reservation, owl under their names, and cancel to get the table yourself.”

Y/N laughed, probably at the fact that I know her better than she knows herself. I tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, memorizing the faint blush coating her cheeks. “But you also want someone who will welcome you home after a whirlwind of a day in the typical life of Y/N Y/L/N. And that someone could never be Draco.”

After moments of silence, with us staring at each other, she opened her mouth to speak. “Have you found her?” I raised an eyebrow, urging her to explain further. “Your soulmate. Have you found her?”

Something in her bright irises flickered. I couldn’t help but lean in to plant a soft kiss on her nose. She closed her eyes in response “I’ve been looking at her since I was fourteen.”

“Romantically, Theodore,” Y/N opened her eyes then. “That’s what I meant.”

“I won’t tell you before I tell her. It wouldn’t be right.”

She rolled her eyes while I smirked. “You’re insufferable!”

“I hope you know, little sprite, that leaving Draco was a brave thing.” She looked down at her lap, ashamed of the rejection she made our friend endure, disbelieving every word I told her. I hooked my fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “Your heart doesn’t beat for him, and even if you tried falling for him, I wouldn’t allow you to.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on her face, and I took that as a sign to caress her cheeks, coaxing out that smile I adore.

“I love you, Y/N. I hope you know that, too.”

I could see the familiar switch in color in her eyes, along with hesitation swirling in her irises. But she sighed, and the hesitation vanished. “I love you too, Theodore.”

I wondered if she loved me like I loved her, as I pulled her back to her rightful place in my arms and played with her hair. We stayed there for a couple of minutes before I felt her breathing even out. Glancing at the sleepy witch in my arms, my eyes drifted down to her hand resting on the bed sheets. Lost in our conversation, I hadn't realized our fingers had interlocked. The action was so second nature that I never questioned it. 

“You’re my soulmate,” I whispered, planting a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “I have lost you, and I have found you. And I’m never letting you go again, love.” The corner of her lips rose, giving me that sleepy smile I had missed so much. “I promise to make you my one and only. And no one will ever take you from me.”

I closed my eyes, my thoughts of her no longer just thoughts but reality. If there was one thing I missed more than having her in my arms, it was sleeping and waking up with her in them, always close to my heart.

Hi witchlings!! This marks the completion of this small two-shot! Although, for the first time ever in the history of my fics, the Silver Promises verse will remain open for extension. I plan to make this series a wealth of interconnected one-shots, linking back to the original two-piece storyline. I hope to come to this fic every once in a while to update it with snippets. So share with me your thoughts/ideas about any particular scene you wish to see before or after the story's main events via the owlery! 🩶

All-Works Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

Draco Taglist:@imabee-oralizard@ameliaphoenix@arcana-greenleaf@dittos-blog-dylanobrien@ye0nvibezzn

[theeio]

i found some old art of my oc Plague way back in 2018🥲 and i tried doing some redraws, 6 years later!

i tried redrawing the first five here

[tenowls]

august 2022/july 2023 life drawing improvement RAHHH

[six-eared-gremlin-ao3]

...Okay, fine; here's my 'Sona-

The color of their clothes varies, but the leggings and cardigan stay. Their feet are meant to be more digitigrade- they remind me of a jerboa mouse.

They have Permanent UwU Face; their mouth is just shaped that way. They don't usually show their ears; they're usually hidden under his hair. If he shows his ears around you a lot then he trusts you. And yes, the ears are Pan colors-

Grem is almost always up to Shenanigans, or sitting and listening to his two favorite people hyperfixate on something. They like tea and flowers and rain and tackling people as a love language.

I do accept drawings and fanart and such; that's why his ref is unshaded.

[dykeinthedark]

venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)

[toastsnaffler]

everyone say thank u to my roommate for going to visit her parents this weekend so I can jack it loud and nasty 🙏

[atalana]

having one of those nights where i'm just. extremely frustrated about fatphobia's existence and the fact that whatever i do to try and change it will be a drop in the ocean and there'll always be people who think i'm just saying this because i'm lazy

[peanutblowandjobsandwich]

me when i am faced with the reality that other ppl esl my 'old' peers are smart. or rich or at least very financially well off. don't have anxiety. are achieving things. or sometimes all 4 simultaneously

[knowlesian]

my last post and the shameless mountain goats reference i threw in there got me thinking about one of my favorite story beats, because it combines a lot of character work and thematic oomph in one: ed being a victim of his own legend and ability to protect himself by hiding in plain sight + codeswitch into the version of himself that best suits the company/situation he’s in, in many ways but often most visibly through his interactions with izzy.

my take on “is blackbeard real or fake” has always been “yes”; blackbeard is pieces of ed filtered and strained and assembled and pruned down in ways that scarred him even as they kept him safe, in ways that are very sad and often stretching the definition of safe as far as ed’s personal definition of murder. nonetheless: it got him to the place he's at, still alive. could he have done it another way? who knows! that was the way he did it, it's the way he knows will work because it did work.

or: he thinks he knows that. but the legend was never all of ed and in fact demanded he spotlight pieces of himself he doesn't like so much a lot and repress a lot of the things that make him feel good, it’s not helping/hurting anymore. it’s just dragging him down.

so ed is sick of the blackbeard schtick; and here’s the rub. if he’d been worse at the art of personal fuckery alongside the pirate type, maybe none of this is happening. the world never knows his name; or worse, once he gets spotted as a man who won't kill they mock it. 

that version of ed does not attract izzy ‘ask me about my boner for the sunk cost fallacy’ hands, or does not keep him. because izzy has built his identity around ed’s legend; who is blackbeard’s first mate, if there is no blackbeard? who the fuck even is izzy hands, if he’s not seated at the right hand of edward teach?

now. you would hope, in a better world, that izzy would be like you know, edward, the thing here is: you wanting something different involves emotional consequences for me. i would have to figure out my whole life over again and i am simultaneously con o’neill’s age and emotionally sixteen like the real world me was, so you can see that would be super complicated. i have so fucking much baggage and you are just adding to it, and i do not like that. also: this fucks up my work situation and my home life at once, it makes me feel sad and abandoned and itchy in ways i do not wish to label with words because they would be gay ones like ‘please don’t leave me, i love you and i thought it was mutual’ so like... world rocked, thoroughly and in ways that make me want to rant until past last call, in conclusion this sucks and i think it's twenty mistakes in a trenchcoat, some of them maybe life threatening! i wish you would not.

and then he would step back and let ed make his own fucking choices anyway and either do the work to figure himself out in the same space or finally grab those cds from the car and find his own place to do the same, because a shitty fact of adult life is sometimes people cannot be what we want or need. sometimes that is because they suck: sometimes, it’s just because they can’t or don't want to, and that isn't them being mean or withholding. they don't owe us more than the basic kindness and dignity we all owe to each other just because we put in our hours longing for them to do so. that’s some toxic, entitled shit. understandable! an impulse i share at times! but we should never be That Guy (gender neutral) because the friendzone doesn’t actually exist and nobody deserves to win someone else as a prize for hanging around long enough and driving them to the airport. that’s just called being friends, etc.

izzy is sadly currently stuck on being That Guy. so instead of realizing ed is an adult man and can make his own choices, even if izzy thinks they're bad ones, he fucking panics and starts swinging around and finally runs to big daddy england to make stede bonnet stooooooooop (messing with ed’s brain).

and of course he does something like that! he thinks a relationship is when you metaphorically own each other and when you can only be tender after putting your right foot in and then putting it out before once again putting it in and then proceeding to shake it all about, violent rituals unlock love style. he’s a desperate man in a hell entirely of his own making.

and so is ed, in this entirely different way but stuck in his own fucking orbit as firmly as izzy, only ed is trying to claw his way up and out to see what else he can be, while izzy would do juuuust about anything (including lick the king’s boots) to stay the same forever.

that’s some tragic shit. i love this writing team, the end.

[weenhands]

im more aware about my behaviors/pattern of behaviors and i have clarity and understanding about them after realizing i was autistic but the trauma from middle school really makes me wish i took that awareness and hid every single special interest of mine