#and like not to sound Vain or Full of Myself

[bhaalsdeepbat]

i literally walked into this space knowing NO ONE, sat off to the side and told them, "I'm sorry, I'm like a cat. I have to just watch for a second, then I'll socialize more." and like. the entire group was just like YEAH MAKES SENSE. no one took it wrong. they just let me observe until i was ready to mesh in more. and now almost two years later I am now burrowed so deeply into this troupe that i wouldn't have the friends or opportunities i have without it.

[ozymoron]

hate when im reminded im actually talented and that most people cant draw the kind of shit i can draw and that its actually kinda incredible i can do what i can do and that im just so used to being in art spaces that i forget its a genuine skill most people dont have

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Very rough sex! Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

“Sukuna!”

Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you as you cry out his name. You’re behind him, unable to see where he was stabbed, but blood is pooling at your feet. 

The man who attacked you is suddenly thrown back, his body slamming into the deck. Sukuna turns to face you, and you see that the dagger has stabbed completely through his forearm. It frightens you, but you can’t help being relieved that he hasn’t been hit in a vital spot. 

Several other pirates run over and grab the attacker, holding him down. His face is shoved down against the deck. 

“He must have stowed away at the port,” one of them says to Sukuna. 

The captain walks over to the man, seeming completely unfazed by the knife stuck in his arm. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But your plan was weak.”

The man grunts in frustration, trying in vain to break free. “Murderer! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done!”

Sukuna grins down at him. “Maybe I’ll fuck your fiancé when I get there. Oh wait, you said her body was found on the ship. She must have been an ugly, worthless cunt if I didn’t bother bringing her to my ship for my men to fuck.”

The man’s face twists in rage and despair, and he screams. No words, just a guttural howl of fury. And mid scream, Sukuna brings his boot down on the man’s head, cracking it open like watermelon. You turn your face away. You’ve seen bloodshed before, on your own ship, but it doesn’t make this any less gruesome. And even though the man tried to kill you, you can’t help feeling sorry for him. He lost someone precious to him in a horrific way. That would drive anyone to madness. 

Sukuna turns to you. “Let’s go back to my quarters.”

You look at his arm and then back to his face. “But, the dagger! You need to-“

“I need a strong drink!” he says, grinning to his men. They cheer their captain, and one of them hurries off to get that drink.

Sukuna takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. On the way back to his cabin, one of the pirates hands him a full bottle of rum. 

Once inside, he shuts the door and heads over to his bed to sit down. He opens the bottle of rum and takes a long drink. 

“Don’t you have a doctor on this ship?” you ask, moving over to him. 

“I do, but I’m not going to him.”

“What?! Why not? You’ve got a dagger in your arm! When you pull it out, you’ll bleed to-“

“I’m the captain of this ship,” he says firmly. “I can’t show weakness in front of my men. It would be better to die from an injury than to be killed in a mutiny and have my legacy tarnished.”

“That’s ridiculous!” you shout, realizing a second later that it’s the first time you’ve raised your voice to him outside of your screams during sex. 

He puts one hand on the hilt of the dagger. “It’ll be fine. I’ve had worse wounds.”

“Wait!” you yell, then hurry over to the dresser to pull out a fresh sheet. You rip it into strips. “You’ll need to bandage it quickly!”

He takes another drink of the rum, then jerks the dagger out and drops it to the floor. Blood begins pouring out of the wound at an alarming rate. He pours some of the rum over it, not even wincing at the burn, then reaches for the strips of cloth. 

You rush over and grab them, holding his arm out and beginning to wrap it up. Sukuna pulls his arm free. “I can do it myself! I’m not depending on a woman to-“

“Twice now!” you suddenly say, cutting him off. “Twice now you’ve told me to touch you as I please! This is how I please! Will you go back on your words, Captain?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs. “You’re right. Do as you wish then.”

He holds still from then on and lets you bandage his arm tightly. It takes more cloth than you expected, forcing you to tear up more strips, and Sukuna finishes off the rum. When finished, you sigh and sit on the bed beside him. “We’ll have to change it every couple days or so, and watch out for infection. But I think this has stopped the bleeding.”

He looks at you, his eyes slightly glazed from the rum and the blood loss. “Why are you doing this? You should be trying to kill me yourself.”

“You only got stabbed because you stood in front of me,” you tell him. “Why did you do that?”

He scoffs, looking away from you. “I told you before. I’m not done playing with you yet. I intend to enjoy you thoroughly before the end of this voyage.”

It strikes you then that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Injured and weakened, while still maintaining his smug persona. But there’s something in his demeanor, in his eyes, that feels different. He leans just slightly against you, the shoulder of his injured arm touching yours. 

You reach one hand over and place it carefully on his bandages. His body feels warm next to you. “Thank you for protecting me,” you say quietly. 

He meets your gaze, wearing a mysterious expression. “I’m an injured man. Are you going to comfort me, woman?”

You suddenly feel hot, almost feverish. You realize there’s a part of you that’s been wanting to touch him all evening. You stand up from the bed and move to stand in front of him. As he watches, you slowly pull off the lovely new dress and drape it over a nearby chair, then you step closer until you’re standing between his legs. 

His uninjured arm circles around you, pulling you so that your body is pressed firmly against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and he tilts his head up slightly. You kiss him, deeply and passionately, your lips smashed into his, your tongue slipping into his hot, rum coated mouth. 

You feel a hand softly squeezing your breast, and look down to see that he’s using his bandaged arm. You wonder absently if flexing his fingers like this hurts his wound. But then his mouth moves down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone before  closing around your hardened nipple, his wet tongue flicking at it. 

Your breathing gets faster as you snake your hands down to open his pants. Unsurprisingly, he’s already hard, his huge cock standing up straight and proud. You position yourself above it, then slowly sink down, wincing slightly at how he stretches you. 

He’s staring at your face, his expression calm, as if he hasn’t just been stabbed, as if there’s not a naked woman currently in his lap, struggling to take his entire cock. You want to make him react, to see his handsome face display the pleasure you give him, so you lower yourself further down, gasping when you feel that he’s all the way in. 

You sit there for a moment, your arms wrapped around him, face pressed into his shirt, giving yourself time to adjust to his massive size. It’s a luxury you don’t normally get. Strangely, he doesn’t rush you to begin moving, or thrust up into you. His good arm simply remains wound around your back.  

Once you’re ready, you pull back slightly to look him in the eyes as you gradually begin moving up and down. Your hands slip down and begin unbuttoning his shirt. You’re struck by the urge to feel his muscled torso against your skin, to see those alluring tattoos. Once his shirt is open, your fingers slide beneath it, your palms rubbing over his chest. 

You know you’re playing a dangerous game. These feelings you’re experiencing will only bring you pain. Another pirate sneeringly told you that Captain Sukuna never keeps or releases his women. Without exception he always either kills them or hands them over to his men once he’s done playing with them. The pirate seemed to think it would be the latter, and you cringed when his eyes roved over you. 

How will you feel when he decides he’s tired of you? When he’s stabbing you to death? When he’s laughing and watching his men take turns with you? 

You can’t imagine it, but you also can’t fight what you’re feeling right now as you sink down to the base of his cock again, taking quick shuddering breaths as you maintain eye contact with him. 

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

Sukuna still doesn’t know exactly why he protected her. He tells himself it’s probably because he didn’t want to lose his plaything for the rest of the voyage. But the truth is, he moved without thinking, as if it were a reflex. 

And now, that beautiful, delicate flower he protected is riding him so well. His instinct is to throw her onto the bed and fuck her violently, but there’s something appealing about watching her take the lead, watching her take his cock so very deep of her own accord. Her motions are slow, but deliberate, intimate. She clenches him tightly, her eyes full of lust, her lips plump and swollen from their kiss. 

She leans her head down, and he feels her wet little tongue on his chest, licking along the black lines of ink. Ah, such a sweet maiden. He could stay buried inside her forever. 

What is he going to do with her? The thought of any of his men touching her, experiencing her tight, velvety pussy for themselves, fills him with intense anger. And he can’t bring himself to snuff out her existence. 

He pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind. No use thinking about it now, while she’s wrapped around him so pleasingly. She pushes down again, taking him all the way in, and her soft hands tremble as her breaths hitch. Her face looks blissful, her expression rapturous. 

“You’re… so deep… inside me,” she says, now gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Feels… so good!”

Sukuna has never done this before, never allowed a woman to climb onto him and fuck herself on his cock as she pleases, going so slowly and carefully. He’s always only cared for his own pleasure, which he got from pounding into women as roughly as possible, enjoying their screams and the friction of fucking them so hard. 

But looking at the unbelievably beautiful woman before him, he’s beginning to understand the appeal of fucking this way. Watching such a pure, innocent maiden’s face glow with pleasure just from having his cock inside her is making him feel heated in a way he’s never experienced before. 

Her eyes are locked onto his, and she suddenly appears shy. Funny, considering she’s completely naked, breasts bouncing in front of his face as her slick pussy moves up and down his shaft. “Does it… feel good… for you?” she asks as she continues moving, clearly craving validation from him. 

He grins at her. “Feels so good, I’m going to completely fill your womb with my cum.”

She sighs, closing her eyes as if she’s content. Then her arms are around him again, her body pressed to his, and he can feel her heartbeat through her skin. It’s beating so fast as she moves her hips in a circular motion, moaning when his cock hits the right spot inside her. 

When she cums, she clamps down on him, and he can feel her shuddering as her heart races. Sukuna has never truly felt another human being so deeply before, been so connected to another person, and for a brief moment, even he is overwhelmed. A throaty moan escapes his lips, and she immediately looks at his face, her eyes wide. In the heat of the moment, he only wants to feel more of her, so he pulls her into a kiss, their tongues mingling, until he reaches release.

As promised, he fully coats her insides with his seed, wanting to dye her in his colors completely. 

The pain in his arm is all but forgotten as they stay there on the bed, melded into each other. 

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

For the next several days, things are back to what you call normal on this ship. Sukuna goes back to being rough with you, but your body has slowly begun to enjoy it, to a certain degree. 

For as long as you live, you’ll never forget the sheer intimacy of that night, when he was gentle with you for the first time. You felt like the two of you became one, if only for a few moments. You long to experience that again, but Sukuna has shown no inclination towards repeating that night.

The end of the two weeks is quickly approaching, and you feel dread building in the pit of your stomach. Your only plan is to beg Sukuna to kill you swiftly, because dying by his hands would be preferable to being handed over like a piece of meat, discarded and unwanted. 

So on the eve before your last day, before the ship will dock at their destination, you feel extremely anxious as you wait in Sukuna’s quarters. When he walks in, you stand up from the bed, holding your hands in front of you nervously. 

“We’ll reach land in the morning,” Sukuna tells you. “We’re just spending a few days there to resupply and rest.”

You nod, wondering why he’s bothering to tell you. 

He looks at your worried face, and he’s silent for a moment. You have your plea prepared in your mind. You’ll as him to give you a quick and painless death. But he sighs and sits in his chair. “When we dock, you’ll leave the ship. I’ll give you enough gold to buy passage to wherever you were going.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. “What?”

“I’m letting you go,” he says. “You can return to whatever life you were living.”

Your fists are now balled at your sides. Your whole body is shaking as tears sting your eyes. “How dare you!” you suddenly shout. 

Sukuna blinks, surprised by your outburst. 

“You kidnap me,” you begin, “have your way with me, make me fall in love with you, then send me away?! How could you?!”

His eyes widen slightly, then that smug grin you’ve grown to love spreads over his face. “So you’ve actually fallen for me?”

You feel your cheeks burning. You didn’t intend to confess your feelings this way. But the cat’s out of the bag now. “Yes, I have. And I won’t be thrown off the ship like a stowaway!”

Sukuna stands up and steps over to you. “If you stay, I can’t guarantee anything. I might end up doing something truly heinous to you.”

You look up at him. “I understand.”

He puts one hand on your face, his thumb grazing your lips. “I won’t go easy on you just because you love me. I’ll still fuck you whenever I want, as hard as I want.”

You swallow, then slowly nod. “I can accept that.”

His eyes seem to soften. “But I suppose… fucking you gently every now and then wouldn’t be so bad.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, you steel your resolve and say, “I have a request.”

There’s a hint of surprise on his face as he says, “Oh? And what would that be? More dresses? We can get some when we dock.”

“No more women,” you say. 

He laughs. “Jealous already? I don’t intend to take a woman for myself while I already have one who pleases me.”

“No, I mean… no taking any women. At all.”

“The men will hate you,” he says, though he’s still smiling. 

“I was thinking about this. There should be women willing to come aboard and… entertain the crew if they’re paid or perhaps given free passage to somewhere they’d like to go.”

“You mean whores.”

That’s not a word you’re comfortable using, but you nod. “Yes. And wouldn’t the men be better served by women who choose to be here, who have experience pleasuring men?”

“I’ll consider it,” he says, then he suddenly jerks your body to him and wraps his arms around you. His wound seems to be healing well. “Now take off this dress before I rip it off. You’ll need something to wear when we disembark tomorrow.”

You slide the dress up and over your head. “Will you be gentle with me tonight?” you ask. 

His hands are already exploring your body. “Not when you ask me so sweetly. It only makes me want to ravage you more.”

Your fingers are tracing his tattoos. “But I wanted to feel you tonight, all the way to my core, while I ride you.”

He pauses, looking into your eyes. “You’ve bewitched me, woman.”

You smile at him as he takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Your true voyage has only just begun. 

[yorshie]

Hiya! This was an ask on AO3, thought I'd upload it over here as well just to keep everything even. I couldn’t keep myself from making it a continuation of the turtles fav clothes ask.

Bayverse TMNT X Fem Reader

SFW, though apparently I was in the mood to write the turtles falling over themselves so it's a bit suggestive.

Donnie

Donnie landed a little bit harder than he meant to on the roof of your building, catching sight of the sheet and projector a little too late and assuming someone was already using the space. He ducked in an unconscious effort to hide, knowing it was folly, only to pop back up at the sound of your giggle.

“Love?” He asked, looking around, sure he had heard you.

“Hey baby. You ready for our date?” Your voice came from the far side of the sheet, and he snorted in amusement as the fabric gave a little shimmying ripple.

“Is that what you’ve been planning?” He asked, taking careful steps towards the chairs set either side of the projector. When you didn’t answer his snout swung around curiously, but the only other things he could see was a cooler set up as a coffee table with a few styrofoam containers up top. “Baby?”

“Here.” You called back, and he blinked at the low curse that followed. “Just- having technical difficulties.”

He smiled, starting for the sheet. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re dating a technical tu-” He cut off with a choke, stalling at the sight of your bare back presented to him, your hands trying in vain to reach the zipper that was getting caught on a bit of…

His eyes trailed down, taking in the way the city lights glittered off the purple sequins covering your dress, a small, strangled noise escaping his throat at just how much of your legs were not covered.

“It was suppose to be a surprise.” You half whined, pouting at him over your shoulder, and your words reseted him, his eyes trailing back up your back to give you a strained smile.

“I- It’s very surprising.” He blushed at the break in his voice, but when you only giggled he took a step closer, hands hesitantly raising towards your own. “Can… I can help?”

“Please.” You asked, dropping your hands and arching your spine to hold the fabric taunt.

Donnie tried his hardest not to touch or think about the soft skin beside the zipper, straightening the little piece of metal and pulling it seamlessly upwards until it reached the little latch at the top. “There.” He stepped away quickly, rubbing his thumbs against the side of his first finger in an effort to keep them grounded and to himself.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly, turning slowly to show him the full outfit. “What do you think?”

Donnie’s head tilted, looking you over, taking in the high collar and the swish of sequins as you moved. The dress was a beautiful dark purple, jewel toned and looking more like it belonged on a fun trip around town, not cooped up on a roof with him. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly, flicking his gaze up towards your face. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You smiled at him, reached forward and clasped his hands, lifting one to twirl yourself around and closer into his arms. “I got Chinese food.” You whispered up at him, grinning. “And those grape sodas you love so much.”

Donnie swallowed, golden hazel eyes caught on the way your eyes bloomed when you looked at him, and quietly let go of the anxiety that said you were better off without him. “That sounds amazing.” He said instead, twirling you back out and following in a small side step dance that let him see the way the sequins covering your dress caught the light. “Maybe we could dance for a bit, first, though?”

Your answering laugh was bright and happy, and his heart soared at the sound.

Raph

A locked down arcade was not the place Raph expected to roll up on when you asked him to meet you somewhere not your apartment, but he wasn’t alarmed until your text said to walk in the front door like he owned the place.

Not knowing what to expect, half his mind worrying you’d been abducted and this was a plot to corner him without backup, he nervously turned on the cctv jammer Donnie had given each of them and cautiously walked inside.

The game lights were still on, soft 80s rock filtering through the speakers, and he stalled, not quite sure what was going on exactly.

“Hey there, tiger.” He turned sharply towards your voice, hackles rising when he couldn’t’ immediately pick out your location before relaxing as your crinkled eyes peeked over a tall pony wall. “Glad you found the place ok.”

He huffed, feeling that adrenaline slowly seep back, unconsciously returning his sai to their proper place. “Jesus, baby, give me a heart attack why don’t ya.” He raised a brow at the high pitched giggle you gave in answer, mind flipping to the gutter in an instant. “Whatcha doin’ over there?” He asked lowly, taking a step closer when you skipped away further down the wall. 

“Nu uh, you stay right there, I’m coming over.” You insisted, and he heard the click of heels on the polished comment floor. He followed the bob of your hair around the corner, smile faltering when you reappeared and he caught sight of what you were wearing.

“Uh…” He trailed off, eyes locked on the swish of the red skirt and the frothy petticoat peeking with every swaying step. “Damn.” 

He kept enough of his head to whistle long and low when you did a twirl for him, but in truth the only thing he could think of was how this was the most girly thing he’d ever seen you in, and he loved it,

“That good, huh?” You asked cheekily, and he was surprised by the instinctual rumble that escaped him as you stepped within arms reach, his hand snagging out quick as a flash to catch your own. 

Real good, but he made his mouth say something else. “You dressed up for me?” He twirled you around again, eyes darting between your face and the swirl of the skirt. When you faced him once more, his free hand dipped, fluffed the bottom of the skirt just to watch the arcade lights reflect on the color.

You laughed, walking backwards, holding onto his large hand when it became clear he was too busy staring to watch his feet. “I thought I could demolish you at the motorcycle games and then we could eat some burgers.”

He almost didn’t hear her words, head dipping to indicate his agreement, before a few syllables made it past the *Skirt* filter and he stopped hard again.

“Motorcycle?” He asked, tearing his eyes away to look for the mentioned game, before returning to your skirt. “You… you’re gonna play in that?”

You smirked, stepping back into his space to tap a finger against his plastron. “I’m gonna kick your ass in this.”

You thought he was broken for a long moment, before a sound ripped out of him. Expecting the deep rumble your teasing usually got, you were shocked to hear a high pitched chirp that you’d heard Donnie or Mikey let loose, every once in a while, but never from your boyfriend in red. 

A visceral shot of panic lanced through Raph’s chest at the slow, understanding smile you leveled at him in answer.

Leo

Leo navigated onto the small balcony outside your apartment with ease, brow furrowing when he noticed all the lights were off, only the flicker of candles on the kitchen island to great him. He opened the door silently, stepping inside with a deep breath. 

Only the scent of you and the scented candles greeted him however, and it eased him enough to call out. “Darling?” 

“Here, babe!” Came your voice from your bathroom, and his shoulders loosened, hands coming up to undo his harness and set his swords against the wall next to the balcony door. “Give me just a minute.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, not really sure if you could hear the low sound, before he stepped towards the table to take in the plates and cups set out in a neat array, belted napkins folded over the clean ceramic. “Are you setting up for something?”

“Well, if you must know,” came your amused voice, “I was planning on surprising you with dinner. It’s keeping warm in the oven.”

“It’s a very welcome surprise.” He assured you, crossing over to the oven and opening the door a little to peer in at the aluminum foil packages inside. “What is it?”

“Your favorite.” You called back, and his heart pinged softly at your words, one hand reaching inside to try and peek at the biggest dish.

“Hey, what happened to patience?” Came your teasing voice from right behind him, and he smiled, hand retreating and closing the oven while turning to give you his attention.

“I was just peek-“ He trailed off, and you smiled at the way he blinked long and slow at the sight of you posing at the edge of the hallway leading to the bathroom and your bedroom in a blue dress whose length kissed the floor.

“Blue?” You asked, taking a step closer. “You ok?”

He took a step closer abruptly, herding you back until your back hit the corner where the kitchen transitioned into the next room, arms coming up to softly touch the silky midnight fabric that he swore matched his eyes better than his mask. 

“Where’d you get this?” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, thumb rubbing across your hip in a way that would read as absent minded if not for the sharp precision in his gaze.

“Found it on sale.” You whispered it to him, hands skating along his arms. “Judging by this reaction, I’d say it was a good gut purchase.”

“Very good.” He agreed, finally moving from your space only to clasp your hand with his own and pull you further into the living room. “You look beautiful.”

“Beautiful in blue?” You guessed, teasing gently as he raised your clasped hands and convinced you to twirl for him. A rough sound punched out of him when he saw how low the back dipped, a long tailed bow that was familiar hiding the top of the zipper at the base of your spine.

“Beautiful in anything.” He explained, “but especially in blue.”

You chuckled low at the feeling of his other hand sneaking in to press right above the bow. “We should probably eat, then, before the food gets cold, and then maybe we could bust out the playlist and dance for a while.”

He tilted his head, and you could tell he was considering convincing you to just skip dinner, but you purposefully nabbed the little placard from the restaurant that was sitting on the island, placed it under his nose until he could focus on the name embossed across the little card. 

“That’s evil.” He said, tearing his eyes away from the two words, and you laughed out loud at the pout that crossed his lips.

Angelo

Mikey wasn’t expecting anything fancy, though he knew you were planning something. There were too many questions in the text chain the last couple of days, too many times you’d double checked his preference for something or the other to be anything but a surprise. He looked forwards to it gleefully, especially when he got the text asking him to come over Friday night. 

You weren’t anywhere to be found when he let himself into the small place you called your own, shucking his backpack and chucks noisily and whistling so you’d hear him. A white box sitting on the coffee table with a well known bakery logo stamped across the top had him audibly swallowing, fingers itching to get ahold of whatever confections he hoped was hiding inside.

He must have made some instinctual noise, because a light giggle floated through the apartment, and he tilted his head, grinning as he heard you moving around in your bedroom.

“My, what great pastries you’ve got here, babes.” He called, hopping over the back of your couch and snagging the box.

“The better to tempt you with.” You called in a sing song manner, and he hummed in agreement, listening to the sound of your feet carrying you closer as he chose one of the chocolate filled varieties and bit into it with a little sound of enjoyment.

You snorted, from the kitchen now he thought, and listened as you shut something in the microwave before hitting a few buttons. “Save some room for the pizza, Angelo, it should be here any minute.”

“Ooo, baby, you spoil me rotten.” He set the box back on the table, used his free arm to roll himself back over the couch and landed with a thud. “M comin’ to help you with those fizzy orange drinks.”

“How’d you know I got those?” You sounded amused despite the accusation, and he grinned as he rounded the corner into the little kitchen.

“Cuz my baby always gets-” He cut off, pastry halfway to his mouth, eyes bugging at the little orange velvet loungewear you were wearing.

As if you could hear his eyes popping out of his skull, you threw a smile over your shoulder from where you were stretching up towards the top of the cabinet. “Hey, babe, come give me a hand?” 

Mikey stuck the whole pastry into his mouth and crowded you against the counter, hands proffered to show you that he in fact, had two he could offer you. 

You snorted, pointing upwards with a smirk. “The popcorn bowl, Mike. I can’t reach it.”

His eyes were slow to tear away from the two large collar and the way it slipped off one shoulder, baby blues flicking to your eyes before following the extended finger to the large metal bowl on the top shelf. 

“Mm, ye~ I cef gef che thef.” He swallowed, tongue all but shoving the pastry down the hatch, before he reached up without moving and snagged the bowl easily. “Here ya go, one bowl retrieved.” 

You tried to hide the smile at the fact that he was still all but trapping you against the counter. “Angelo?”

“Yeah babes?” He asked, eyes back to being glued on the little strip of stomach he could see between the matching top and bottom.

“You gotta move so I can get the popcorn.” You explained, popping one hip out and smothering a laugh when his eyes jumped to the movement.

“Uh huh. Popcorn. Right.” He said, fumbling to set the bowl down with one hand and snagging one of yours with the other.

When he made no further move, you rolled your eyes fondly and pushed lightly on his plastron. “Baby. Popcorn. Then cuddles?”

“Cuddles?” He parroted the word, and it was like the synapses fired correctly that time, because he all but jumped to complete the task to get one step closer to the reward.

You chuckled fondly, turning to the fridge to retrieve the ‘fizzy orange soda’, pretending not to hear the chirp behind you when he obviously saw what you were doing.

[ghostedgrim]

She's all that is about the popular guy being dared to date the "nerdy girl" by his so called friend, he takes the dare but ends up falling for her. She finds out and they have a fight and break up. He wins her back in the end. Take it anyway you want! I do want Eric to be jealous as hell after they break up when other guys start taking an interest in reader!!

She's All That pt.1

Pt2. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️: Getting dared to pretend to date someone, implied violence, jealousy,

"Eric, with all so respect, you're a Dauntless leader, yet you've been single since day one." The music in the bar is so loud that for a moment Eric almost didn't hear him.

"Personally James, I don't see how that's relevant. I have enough hookups to satisfy me plenty, I don't need some girl or whatever. Relationships I just a bothersome hassle."

"I bet you don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

"That's what you think, James," the bartender hands Eric a plate of food and leaves her number on the receipt. "Now if I were an unromantic man, that woman wouldn't have given me her number just now."

"Okay whatever, we both know you're good at getting men and women into your bed, but can you handle a full on relationship?"

"Yes, I just prefer not to, I don't need it" Eric shrugs.

James smirks and holds up his wallet. "Prove it then, date y/n then, the ex Erudite girl from your iniation class. You don't have to love her back, just make her love you. Do it and I'll pay for your next tattoo."

"Fine, how long do I have?"

"I'll give you about a month."

"Then we have deal James."

Is drinking by the chasm stupid? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not, not when I've been on a week long trip to Amity to handle Dauntless soldiers who forgot their mission and decided to play with the Amity girls. My job is to train and direct Dauntless soldiers, yet most days I find myself spanking ass because they don't know how to behave.

"God I should've stayed in Erudite." I groan. Obviously it isn't true, the people there were cruel, liars, manipulators, vain, but I must admit I missed all the reading and research I'd done throughout my time there.

"Saying stuff like that would get you killed," I damn near jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep rumbling voice behind me. I turn around to see Eric standing right behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist to stable me, and guide me away from the chasm as I sway. "Long day?"

"More like a long week," my hard scowl meets his cold grey eyes, "What do you want Eric?"

He looks at me with a prideful expression, "I wish to take you out on a date. Don't worry about work tomorrow I'm assigning you a day off."

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "Me? Hookup with you? Not interested."

Eric falters for a moment, a small tick in his jaw, before returning to that prideful arrogance. "Good, I'm not interested in a hookup. Meet me tomorrow at 8pm by the train, I'd like to get to know you, nerdy and all."

Before I could even argue he walks away, that entitled ass really thinks I'll just go where he tells me because he said it's a date. I wonder if he uses that method with every girl he hooks up with. Either way I'm not going.

"I'm not going." I remind myself for the uptinth time today. I'm laying on my stomach atop a skyscraper, sniper rifle in hand. Every shooting range in Dauntless is underground except for the rifle range. Every target is at least a mile away, and every night they're moved to a new spot, hidden somewhere on the streets below, or hidden in a new room within the buildings around me. Sometimes, the targets are put on conveyors so they move around, and sometimes some are hidden so well you can only see a tiny sliver. To handle a gun that can shoot from miles away takes practice, and extreme smarts. Constantly I must calculate how the wind may effect my bullet, how far before gravity pulls it down, the most effective place to hit a target, arm to disarm, leg to stop them from running, chest or head to kill.

Only 7 people here in Dauntless have been trained and can handle a rifle and I'm one of those seven. It's one of the few jobs I can use to challenge myself. Kinda fascinating how using a gun takes so much math and knowledge in physics. None the less, I still train at least twice a week like the others.

I'm not fucking going! BANG!! My gun jerke violently, the bullet flies through the air landing perfectly onto the head of a far away target.

I look at my watch, "6:15." I'm not fucking going.

I readjust. BANG!!

I wonder what Eric could possibly have in mind for our date. Wait, why the fuck should I even care? I'm not even going.

It would be rude to stand him up though, and maybe he does actually like me, maybe he's finally going to be in a relationship and he actually chose me. I scoff, nah that's fucking stupid, as if Eric would think to pick me our of all the women already obsessed with him. I'm sure he'll live if stand him up.

BANG!! I miss by a whole 5 feet. "Fucker."

BANG!! I miss again...

It's 7:58, I'm standing by the train tracks wearing my nicest black dress, combat boots, and my favorite gun and dagger holstered to my thigh beneath the skirt of my dress. I even did my makeup. Fuck me, why the Hell did I fall for this crap?

I watch the train approach. "Where the Hell is Eric? Is this a prank?" I fail to hear the frantic footsteps from behind me. I barely have time to process anything before there's an arm around my waist and I'm getting dragged into a train car.

"Sorry I'm late, had some last second paperwork to handle. Thank God I made it in time to catch the train. You okay?" Eric is wearing his typical black cargo pants, combat boots, his black shirt is tight fitting and pared with a black jacket, his hair is in it's signature style and everything. Why the Hell am I about to swoon?

"I'm uh, yeah I'm fine." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I regain my footing. "For a moment I was scared you stood me up."

Eric scoffs, "Stand up a beautiful girl like you? I'd rather punch a brick wall." He sits down on the threshold of the door, letting his legs dangle out of the traincar as we race through the city. "Come sit," he pats his thigh.

If he's dissapointed I didn't sit on his lap he doesn't show it as I sit across from him. Unlike him I keep my legs inside the train car. "So uh..." I click my tounge, "why did you ask me out in a date, and why did you do it without the intent of hooking up? Last time I checked you never had time for a girlfriend."

"You've never been asked out before-"

"Oh so you're asking me out as a joke? Or pity? Because I'm not staying if that's the case." Eric appears to panic for a moment and quickly grips my shoulder as I try to stand.

"I wasn't finished," he states defensively, Eric's eyes stare deep into mine, their color cold as a winter storm, yet my cheeks warm and my heart stutters. I should probably check that with a doctor. "You and I came to Dauntless and went through iniation at the same time, if I recall correctly you ranked 10th place out of 35 initiates. Now you're not only training and directing Dauntless soldiers, but you're also apart of the only seven people here in Dauntless capable of handling a sniper rifle. I think I have every reason to be curious about you, because the fact that nobody has asked you out is baffling, especially considering how stunning and powerful you are."

Never have I expected a man like Eric to say such words. Stunning? Powerful? I know I'm strong, no idea where he gets the idea I have good looks, but honestly, I feel like I'm the hottest girl in Dauntless after hearing those words. Eric's hand rests atop mine, warm, strong, calloused from rigorous training, his eyes seem to trace my face, and suddenly I'm 16 and freshly transferred to Dauntless again. Eric was terrifying, but hot back then, he still is now just more tame.

I soon realize I've been gaping like a damn fish for minutes now and Eric's small chuckle breaks me from my trance. "I take it nobody has told you that before," he brings a hand to my cheek, his expression soft, "let me be the one to change that, to show and tell you just how amazing you are."

I used to imagine how his lips would taste. t

Then I turned 17 and pushed it from my mind because I was convinced Eric would never love me. He would always be too busy chasing tail to even notice me. But now his eyes are on my lips, his tounge even darts out for a moment to lick his bottom lip. He then looks back at my eyes, he leans in the hand on my cheek pulling me closer. "You smell like strawberries." Our lips are almost touching, his warm breath fanning across my jaw, he smells like gunpowder, cedarwood, and whiskey. I can barely hear anything over my pounding heart. I close my eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between us.

"Shit!" I open my eyes as Eric frantically pulls himself away from the door and the traincar is encased in darkness for several seconds until we leave the small tunnel. "Fuck," Eric laughs, "nearly lost my damn leg." I can't help but to laugh with him.

"That would certainly be quite the traumatic first date." We settle down again the wall both looking out the open door across from us. "How about we just keep all our limbs inside the train for now?" Eric sighs, and we both relax taking in the sight and sounds of the dark clouds rolling in and the distance thunder. The train rolls through the miles of green, flat land between the city and Amity. You can still see the bright lights of the Erudite buildings. It's peaceful, and I can't help but just enjoy the moment rather than talk.

"I once lit my hand on fire." Eric says it so casually as if he were talking about the damn weather.

"You what! Please do tell." I smile like a little kid excited for candy. Eric smiles back and dives into the story of how in chemistry he accidentally covered his hand in lighter fluid, then instead of washing it off he thought it faster to just burn it off. Fortunately the fire lit and burnt out too quick to cause any permanent damage.

It's pouring by the time the train reaches the Dauntless sector. Eric jumps off, then I jump right after. I barely have time to finish standing before he's wrapping his jacket around me. "I would hate for you to catch a cold. Now let me walk you home."

I'm starting to think this is a dream.

Asking her out was one thing, I never meant to get attached. We've been dating for almost a month now. Every time I see her my heart stops, and all I can do is admire her like some dumb schoolboy with a crush. Never in my life did I think I could actually fall in love, and never did I think I would stay up all night imagining what it would be like to kiss a girl, let alone replaying the sound of her laughter in my mind over and over. She's strong, smart as Hell, arguably smarter than me, and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous I could drown in her arms. Honestly if she suffocated me I'd probably thank the damn woman.

"I'm fucked, I'm so utterly fucked." I spend maybe another hour in bed with nothing but my boxers on. I'm already running late, but fuck it, it won't kill Max if I'm late for work just once.

I'm quick to change clothes and rushed out of my home to search for y/n. I find her in the training room running a small squad through some drills. Without a single care I kiss her cheek, "Good morning, my dagger. Sorry for interrupting, but I just needed a small taste of you to get through my day." Her cheeks are dusted in red, and fuck she's just so damn cute it stabs my heart, and then her expression snaps back to stone and she shoos me away.

I catch James in the small squad of men, he's smiling and my heart drops as I remember our bet. I take my time walking up to my office. "How the Hell am I going to escape this?"

Today was exhausting, and I received far to many lewd comments about my relationship with Eric than I'd like. But now I can finally go visit Eric at the bar. For a guy known to be heartless and terrifying he's an amazing boyfriend.

Many people, especially Four, had warned me that Eric was likely dating me as a joke, but I highly doubt he'd continue fake dating me for a whole month as a joke. It's definitely not a joke. Yeah he can be mean, really mean, and cruel, especially to initiates, and yes he's heartless to seemingly everyone here in Dauntless but he has exceptions for certain people... I'm important to him, he's not dating me as a joke, sure he's capable of being that cruel but... he isn't doing that... right?

I try to shake the uneasy thoughts from my head, their just stupid fears, that's all. I pull on Eric's jacket and quickly make my way down to the bar.

I've been sitting alone at this table for nearly 20 minutes, and I can feel the eyes on me. My stomach is a storm of unease, and my doubt is ever growing. This isn't the first time Eric has been late to a date. When we first started dating, he had been cocky, full of himself, half the time it sounded like he was trying to talk me into bed. Despite our first date, it had taken me a while to finally, truly open up to him, to trust him, and believe he wouldn't hurt me. Yet here I am, sitting alone at a table a week later.

It's been a fucking hour, and I swear I can hear the whispers, feel the eyes. The waitress looks at me with contempt, as if she's won something and I lost at whatever she was winning it. My unease eventually turns to frustration and soon I'm walking through the dimly lit halls in search of Eric.

"Fuck me man, and here I thought you were incapable of a relationship." James, without a damn doubt that's his voice.

"Well I'm full of surprises." Eric? That's definitely him. Why the Hell is he with James instead of me, and why are they talking about relationships?

I stalk closer to where I'd heard them speaking, James is running his mouth about a girl's ass making it easy for me to find the two men, and watch them while remaining unseen.

"Have you both kissed, better yet fucked?" James asks and it makes my stomach turn sour. Kissing is fine, but asking about my sex life is not. Not that I have one, yet.

Eric huffs, "no we haven't had sex, and unless you count kissing on the cheek, then we haven't kissed yet."

"Ah, so in that case it isn't love." James has a concerningly victorious look.

"Just because we haven't kissed doesn't mean she isn't in love with me. She's never kissed a guy before, let alone have sex." Eric sounds somewhat annoyed.

"Well damn, a virgin, and unkisssed, I think I may need a taste myself. It's been awhile since I've tried a girl like that. Though-"

"James," Eric warns, his voice deep and posture tense. I wish I could see Eric's face, but all I can see is his back.

"Fine, fine, so you claim she's in love with you. Now I can argue that, but I saw the way that girl looked at you when you visited her last week. She looked at you the way a girl looks at a puppy." James shrugs, and then his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. "It seems I've lost our bet Eric. You can be romantic, and you are capable of making any girl, even ugly miss grumpy, genuinely fall for you. I can't wait to watch her face and see her cry when you tell her you're whole relationship has been fake."

"James-"

"Then aging you should definitely keep dating her. Think about it, maybe she'll stop being so closed off and grumpy, better yet, she'll stop being so strict on my squad. Perhaps you can make her give me a few promotions."

"Playing with her emotions to make her date me and fall in love was-"

I don't think, I just run. I don't stop running, not until my legs give out and I find myself sitting in a train car. That asshole! I trusted him, I loved him, and yet that fucker was using me for his own sick gain! My comm link keeps ringing, and in my frustration I stupidly throw it out of the train.

I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe, my chest hurts like Hell, and my vision is so blurry from tears that I can barely see shit. It was fake, it was all fake. Everything he said was fake! I was nothing to him! Absolutely nothing!

I curl up, and I hate myself for doing it, but I pull his jacket tighter around me. "Gods how can I be so fucking stupid... they warned me, so many fucking times and I ignored them like an idiot."

The sun is rising by the time I get off the train. It's freezing cold, snow covers the street and snowflakes fall from the sky. I glance at the cameras as I walk back to the compound. No doubt Four is watching me through them, or is already at my apartment with a whole essay of a lecture awaiting me. I don't even know if I have the energy to keep walking. So I just lean against a brick wall inside an alley.

I don't know how much time has passed, I'm shivering uncontrollably but I just can't seem to move.

"Y/n." His voice is deep, soft, and full of warmth and I find myself crying all over again.

"Four, I... you were right I-" He interrupts me with a tight hug and kisses my forehead.

"Later, let's just get you home and warm." Four bundles me up in a spare jacket and scarf he brought before picking me up and carrying me home. The exhaustion hits me hard and I unwillingly let myself drift asleep.

I'm bundled in thick warm blankets when I wake up, two warm hands hold one of mine. I finally open my eyes. I'm in my bedroom, Four is leaning against the wall near my door, his knuckles scabbed, and splattered with blood. Confused I look to my left to see who the Hell is holding my hand. To my suprise it's Eric. His gaze is locked on our hands, eyes are rimmed in red, bruises decorate his jaw, right eye, and possibly other places, even his nose looks broken.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Eric's head snaps up and he looks at me in such a way that I'm convinced he actually does love me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, what happened- no, what I did was wrong. You didn't deserve any of that." A tear slips down his cheek and I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt of gaining my pity. "Yes, James and I made a bet with him betting I couldn't make you fall in love with me. It was wrong, and it was cruel for me to manipulate you like that-"

"Get out." I snap.

"Hear him out, trust me," Four interrupts. "We both know Eric isn't the guy to let himself get beat up, especially without throwing at least one punch back." It dons on me that Four beat the shit out of Eric, but that's not what suprises me, it's the fact that Four is utterly unscathed. Eric actually let Four beat him up after what he did to me.

"I- at first it was fun, but then I started to develop feelings and holy shit I fell. I fell hard and fast and I didn't know what to do." Eric's voice breaks and he looks away from me. "You were like a goddam dagger, burrowed deep into my heart and seared into my brain. I thought, maybe to could just let myself win the bet instead of calling it off, you'd never have to know and we'd get to keep dating. You don't have to forgive me, but please know ever I've told you, it was the truth and I do love you. I love you so much it hurts."

"A part of me wants to believe you, Eric. However, the other part of me knows you're nothing more than a lying manipulative snake. I don't want to ever see you again, don't talk to me, don't even look at me."

Defeated Eric finally rids himself from my room.

"What happened to James?" I ask Four.

Four smiles, "Eric broke his jaw."

I sigh, deep in thought, "Did Eric actually let you hit him."

"Pretty much. I found him outside frantically looking for you, I punched first before asking questions. I had already seen all I needed to through the cameras. He didn't fight back once, just stood there and took my beating. I yelled st him for quite a bit before dragging his ass here then returning to the security cameras and waiting for you to step off the train."

"Four?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. And if I ever act that stupid again, slap the shit out of me."

[skybluewritings]

Last Summer Part 2, Felix Catton x Fem!reader

word count: 2K

Masterlist

She would be staying with the Cattons for a month then return home a couple days before her flight to finish packing and give her tearful goodbyes. She paused the track on her iPod when she saw him pulling up to the station. Felix had insisted on coming himself to collect her despite her insistence that she was happy order a taxi.

The car came to a stop, she picked up the handle of her suitcase and walk down the steps of the station. Felix got out of his car, despite having seen each other only a week ago she couldn’t contain the rush of joy that seeing him brought. Her suitcase was momentarily discarded, she squealed as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist, he laughed as he lifted her a little. The wood and spice smell of his aftershave was intoxicating.

Once he had set her down she unwrapped her arms from his neck, grinning up at him. She glanced down noticing his arms were still around her waist, his palms resting on the small of her back. He also noticed this and immediately pulled away from her.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Heat spread through her stomach. “No it’s uh quite alright.”

Neither spoke for a moment, Felix clapped his hands together. “Right, shall we?”

“Yes, yeah, let’s go!”

She went to pick up her suitcase but he had beat her to it.

“I’ll be taking that.” He told her.

She scoffed. “I think I’m more than capable of carrying a suitcase.”

He shrugged. “Nope don’t care."

“You vex me.” She sighed, opening the car door and dropping into the seat.

“You love me really!” He sang, taking the suitcase and opening the car boot.

He was closer to the truth than he would ever know.

*

The car sped through the countryside, it was a bright and blazing day. The roof the convertible was down, the wind making her hair dance all around her. The upbeat tempo of music vibrated through the vehicle. She rested her arm against the window ledge, choosing to subtly gaze at Felix through her cat eye sunglasses. It was unfair how good he looked in his ray-ban sunglasses, her eyes traced the sharp curve of his jawline.

“I can feel you staring.” He said.

“I was very much not!” She replied defensively, looking away from and at the rode ahead.

“I’m not blind.” She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smirking.

“You flatter yourself too much.” She teased.

“I don’t think I flatter myself enough.” He replied, she playfully smacked his arm knowing he was joking. It may have seemed like a narcissistic thing to say but when it came down to it there wasn’t much about Felix that was self obsessed. He was not unaware of his own attractiveness but he didn’t carry himself in the way most vain men would.

“So how much further?” She asked.

“Another couple minutes I reckon.”

“Is there anything you haven’t told me that I should know? Like that your family is actually a coven of aristocratic vampires.”

“Just my mum!” He told her, before shaking his head. “No, there isn’t much that you don’t know already. My family can be somewhat traditional but pretty welcoming overall.”

“Will I be presented to your mum in the fashion of a debutante at court?”

He laughed. “Yes then you’ll be forced to dance a waltz with my dad.”

This made her laugh. “Sounds sexy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come I really do appreciate it.” He told her taking her hand and giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezed it back. “You’re welcome, I’m always here for you.”

“You too.” He said finally letting go of her hand.

Her pulse was far too fast and so was her spiralling mind. How was she going to manage a month with him?

*

They finally drove through the gates of Saltburn, as cliche as it sounded her mouth nearly fell open in sheer shock. It was the most elegant home she had ever seen. She knew he came from a lot of money but was still taken aback by the extravagance of it all. The car drive came to a stop inside a large garage full of a variety of old expensive cars.

 

Felix came round to her side opening the car door for her, in a gesture she thought only happened in old films.

 

“Thank you.” She told him with a smile.

 

He smiled back. “My mum would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

 

“I would have thought someone else parked your car for you?” She pointed out.

 

“Sometimes I like to do things for myself.” He explained matter of fact.

 

She supposed that was a fair answer, truthfully, she had no clue how the rules of anything of this worked. This was an extreme version wealth which she had never encountered before.

 

He opened the boot of the car, and she took out her suitcase pulling it behind her as they left the garage.

 

They reached the main foyer of the house, it had wide cavernous ceilings with various patterns carved into it. An older man in a suit dipped his head at them politely.

 

“(Name) this is Duncan the head Butler.”

 

Head Butler?! She thought. Was she in Pride and Prejudice?

 

Duncan gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She replied trying to mimic his formal tone.

 

“I will have your luggage taken to your room.” Duncan told her.

 

(Name) waved her hands. “Oh no really it’s okay I can take it.”

 

Duncan’s face became more pinched. “No please I insist.”

Yeah she was not going to try argue with him.

 

“Well thank you then.” She said awkwardly.

 

She looked on helplessly as Duncan commanded another butler to take the suitcase.

 

Felix clearly sensing her discomfort pat her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to the conservatory my mum will be dying to meet you.”

 *

 

There were three women in the conservatory, they were all sat on ornate chairs that faced opened glass doors. Two of the women were engrossed in a story the blonde woman was telling them. She stopped speaking when she noticed her friends had stopped paying attention to her and to instead the new arrivals. The blonde woman turned to see what they were staring at, her whole face lit up.

 

“My goodness darling you do know how to pick them don't you.” The blonde woman (who she had worked out was his mother) said to Felix.

 

She elegantly stood from her chair and practically sauntered toward them.

 

“This is my mum, Elspeth.” He told her.

 

“Lovely to meet y-“ Her words were cut off when Elspeth grabbed both sides of her face tilting it to one side then the other. (Name) winced at having her face manhandled.

 

“Mum stop that!” Her best friend scolded, gently swatting his Mother’s prying hands away.

 

Elspeth bought her hands to her chest. “I do apologise it’s just that I’m trying to figure out what it is about your beauty that draws my son in. I think it might be your eyes they’re rather lovely.”

 

It was a strange compliment, but still a compliment she supposed. “Oh thank you.” She said with a nervous smile. “However I’m pretty sure my physical appearance doesn’t really play a part in my friendship with Felix!”

 

Elspeth furrowed her brow. “Friendship?” She looked to her son. “Felix I thought she was your girlfriend.”

 

Girlfriend?!

 

He sighed. “Mum, I explicitly told you I had a friend coming to stay.”

 

“But the way you so lovingly spoke about her-“

 

“Anyway,” Felix said slightly too loud. “I am sure (Name) will want to get settled into her bedroom, we’ll see you for dinner.”

 

“But really it is wonderful to have you stay dear.” Elspeth told her kindly.

 

She found herself smiling genuinely. “Thank you.”

 

Felix led her out the conservatory with the same speed she led him out of the party.

*

Felix fell back onto the bed in the guest bedroom. He covered his face with both hands groaning into them. “Oh god I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.”

 

She perched on the bed next to him. “I-I mean it wasn’t too bad. Your mum seems to at least like me!”

 

“Yeah I guess.” He removed his hands from his face. “But how could she imply that you and I-as if I am not capable of just having female friends.”

 

“You seemed to be pretty good friends with a lot of the girls at Oxford.” She snickered, pretending it didn’t hurt to know that.

 

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

 

She flopped down next to him and playfully elbowed him. “I mean you weren’t exactly subtle in hiding it everyone kind of knew.”

 

 “Is that really how you see me?”

 

She turned to lie on her side. “No of course not-sorry I was only teasing.”

 

He didn’t look at her, instead picking at the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t like the idea that a bunch of people can just decide something about me, like they know me. I always made it clear I never wanted anything more from the people I was with. I’m not some heartless fuck boy. It makes me feel uncomfortable that some people might have that view of me...”

 

“Well I don’t.” She said softly. “No one’s perfect but you aren’t a bad guy, people know that even if they see your exploits differently to how you did.”

 

He now looked at her. “What do you think of me?”

 

Where should she start? “I think you’re just one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and that well-I can’t believe I’m existing in the same room as you.”

 

Maybe the last part was too much, but she couldn’t help it if she meant it. His lips parted at her words, he seemed at a momentary loss for words as he stared at her stunned. His full lips looked so inviting parted like that, it wouldn’t have taken her much to lean forward and find out. She chose to sit back up this was becoming too dangerous for her.

 

She cleared her throat. “Do with that what you will.”

 

He seemed to snap back to reality gradually sitting up next to her. “I’m sorry it took me a minute, it’s just- no one’s ever really said anything like that to me before.” He swallowed hard.

 

“Maybe it’s time that someone should.” She admitted.

He gave her a grateful smile that made everything inside her melt away. The moment passed when he stood up from the bed and offered out his hand to her which she gladly took as he pulled her to her feet. “Come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Tag list: @emitaylorsverson

[blackmistral]

Bound by Love - Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader/OC

Omg first of all - HI! so no one knows me here (😞) but if any of you ever wrote a fanfic about Alcina, i most probably read it bc i'm literally in love with her! I began writing this a long time ago for myself and decided to finish it to publish it here! My first language isn't english and I originally wrote it in french so I hope the translation isn't too bad! Please feedback for any mistakes! (it's so goddamn short ngl)

The path to the village was by no means hard to access. The only real dangers were the traps and the lycans - who nevertheless kept a relatively safe distance from the young woman. But on this day, there was no such danger.

   Laura made her own way to the village to go to the night market, claiming she didn't mind the task. Alcina Dimitrescu's three daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela, had all offered to accompany her, but she had told them she'd be quicker on her own. So, she dressed warmly, given Romania's capricious October weather, and went out with nothing more than a sorrel basket and a small purse. She hadn't gone to notify Alcina of her departure, since she was still working in her office and wish not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.

   So, she headed down towards the village, keeping an eye on her surroundings. The trees around her looked threatening, as if they were warning her off. As she went deeper into the forest and looked back for a moment, she noticed that she could no longer see the castle in the fog. Clenching her fists for courage, she started walking faster. Each step seemed to lead her back towards an uncertain danger; and she widened her eyes when she spotted a large shadow behind her. It must have been there for some time, but the bad weather had prevented the young woman from seeing properly. A hand came to rest on her right shoulder, and she jumped. Thinking at first of a lycan, she was, for a moment, calmed by the realization that the figure behind her was not a monster but a man. But when she looked at his dirt-covered face, she was astonished to discover that there was nothing human about his gaze. He was glaring at her bitterly, as if she wasn't really to his liking. A wry smile appeared after a few seconds, however, and she suddenly remembered that she was alone - and defenseless - against this stranger.

   “Did you get lost, pretty girl?”

   His voice sounded to her like a low growl, meant to be threatening. Laura tried to step aside and answer, but the hand on her shoulder moved abruptly to her throat and grabbed her neck. It was hard to breathe now, and the realization hit her once again. Not only was she alone, but she wasn't expected back at the castle for at least another hour. Alcina, she thought. She imagined her face until the grip around her neck tightened and the man pushed her to the ground. She tried to catch her breath, but her assailant came dangerously close, giving her no respite.

   She wondered how this had happened. Alcina had told her, warned her, that she shouldn't go out alone. Laura had found her reasons somewhat foolish before, until now.

   He threw himself at her, a terrifying smile plastered on his face. She began to cry now, her tears falling into the mud. The man grabbed her jacket and blouse and yanked them off, tossing the clothes aside. She was now in her underwear and bra, her face twisted in fear, trying in vain to scream for help. She felt naked, humiliated. He moved his fingers towards her chest, ignoring her pleas and cries, forcing one of his hands over her mouth to silence her. It was when he touched her breast that a ferocious growl was heard, stopping the man in his doing. He frowned.

   “What the hell?”

   Behind him, a shadow nearly ten foot tall made him break out into a cold sweat. He turned around slowly, and Laura recognized her. She'd recognized her by the rumble in her voice. Alcina. She now approached at full speed, growling again, and sank her outstretched claws into the mortal's throat. Blood splattered onto her white dress, but she paid it no mind, her gaze fixed on the one she was about to kill.

   “My wife. My partner. You dare lay your hands on her? Prostule!” she exclaimed almost breathlessly, the rage consuming her.

   He choked as he tried to answer, but she dug her claws into his chest, and he stopped breathing. Laura watched the scene before her, torn between relief and fear. Alcina dropped the lifeless body to the ground, seeming to regain awareness of what she had done. She rushed over - still with the same elegance that fascinated Laura - and knelt beside her, taking her in her arms.

   “My darling,” she murmured.

   Laura noticed that Alcina was trembling too and put her arms around her neck.

   “Alcina... Alcina,” she sobbed.

   “I'm here, comoara mea.”

   The vampire ran her gloved hand through the young woman's hair and embraced her, rising to her original height. Laura wrapped her legs as best she could around her broad torso and rested her head on her breasts. She was still sobbing, shocked by the events that had taken place in such a short space of time. Alcina stayed silent and walked carefully to the castle.

***  

   Inside, the oil lamps were still burning brightly. Laura's skin was pale, slightly bluish at the tips, and her teeth were chattering. Alcina went straight across the central courtyard and into the building where their apartments and luxurious bathroom were located. A bathtub, with gigantic dimensions to match the vampire's supernatural size, was set in a corner of the room, near a window overlooking the forest below. Alcina placed Laura gently on the cabinet and sat her down, then tried to pull away; unsuccessfully, in view of the small, trembling hand that held her by the sleeve of her dress.

   “I'll just run some hot water, darling. I'll only be a moment.”

   When the young woman nodded softly and let go of the cloth, Alcina moved to the bathtub and turned on the hot water tap. She added one of her wife's favorite foaming soaps, then returned to her. Laura had never looked so fragile. True, she was a “tiny” woman, but this was one of the only times she'd seen her so terrified.

   It was a sight she never wanted to see again.

   She approached again and slowly ran her hands over the marks on Laura's neck.

    “My beloved... Forgive me for not having been here before. As soon as I knew you were in danger...”

   The vampire lowered her face to her wife's throat and planted her canines delicately in the mark she had given her at their wedding. Laura stroked Alcina's hair as she kissed the bruises. The brunette took Alcina's face in her hands and gave her a tired but sincere smile.

   “I'm fine now. You saved me, as you always have.”

   Yet, despite her reassuring words, Laura was still trembling. Alcina stepped aside, undressed and removed Laura's remaining clothes with ease, then led the young woman to the bath. She placed her at the front of the tub and settled herself behind her before pulling her back against her chest. Warm and tender kisses were placed on the nape of her neck and Laura sighed.

   “For a moment, I thought... it was too late,” she whispered.

   The big arms around her instinctively tightened and Alcina nestled her nose in his neck.

   “I'll always be there to protect you. From anyone and anything. I sensed you were in danger the moment you came across that... horrible lucru stupid de om.”

   Alcina growled softly, then tenderly kissed the back of the young woman's neck.

   “When I sensed your fear, your anguish... the first thing I did was look for you all over the castle. The girls came to see me and told me you'd left... Why didn't you warn me? You know the risks of leaving my lands alone, my angel.”

   “I didn't want to bother you,” Laura admitted. “You're so stressed with the investors these days…”

   “Those stupid incompetents - and my wine - are not my priority. You are my priority,” Alcina whispered, turning the brunette's head to rub her cheek against hers. “I apologize if I let you think otherwise.”

   Hearing these words, Laura turned in her wife's embrace to face her.

   “I didn't mean it that way. Even though I often find it hard to believe, I know you love me,” she said, smiling sheepishly, her cheeks flushed. “And I'm enormously grateful. Without you and our daughters... I'd be nothing.”

   Alcina ran a hand through her companion's sleek hair and smiled back.

   “Just like us, darling.”

***

   When the water turned cold and Laura had fallen asleep, Alcina decided it was time for them to go to bed. Their daughters had probably gone hunting, and it was late in the night by now.

   Once settled comfortably in their bed and dressed in a light nightgown belonging to Alcina, Laura looked peaceful, the vampire thought. She lay down beside her and wrapped her arms around her again. Alcina was by no means an insecure woman. She was afraid of nothing and nobody. But in the presence of such a fragile being... She couldn't help wondering if she would ever be too late.    She frowned. “No one's going to take you away from me. I love you too much for that to happen.”

[phoenixyfriend]

If you still do the ask meme: nr.1 for a timetravel Jangosoka?

26 Family Prompts Ask Meme

Accidental Baby Acquisition

This contains both intentional and accidental acquisition. (They'll give it back! Probably.)

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

"He's mine."

Jango looks at the woman he has, somehow, managed to fall for.

He looks at the baby.

He looks at her again.

"You adopted? Without asking me?"

"No, birthed him myself."

That baby is human. Fully human. There is no chance, in any way, that Ahsoka managed to have a fully human child. There's some shit about placentas or whatever. A tog can't surrogate a human and vice versa.

"Jetii--"

"Oh, I'm in trouble," she giggles, entirely too enthused about his annoyance.

"Jetii," he tries again, "please tell me you didn't steal a child."

"I did not steal a child," she confirms. "I just... acquired one."

"Acquired one."

"Yeah."

He waits in vain. He breaks and asks, "Ahsoka, how did you acquire this child?"

She smiles at him.

--

The child's name is Ferus Olin. He was not stolen, but given willingly by his parents for Ahsoka to take to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"You could have just said so," Jango gripes as he fires up the engines. She laughs at him, and hikes the tot higher on her hip. "Don't act like it's not within the realm of possibility that you'd randomly pick up a kid and forget to warn me about it."

"Sure," she says, "but consider this: it was funny."

"You are not nearly as funny as you think you are."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes and addresses the kid instead. "What do you think, Ferus? Am I funny?"

The toddler--baby, really--stares up at her silently. There is something up with that kid, but Jango figures that's par for the course with Force Sensitives.

A slightly wet, very chubby hand lands on a lekku.

"That is saliva," Jango notes aloud, mostly because Ahsoka looks a little disgusted, and likes she's trying to hide it from the kid. "Baby drool."

"Oh, fu--shove off."

"Classy."

--

So like. Here's the thing. About carting around two almost-Jedi:

One of them is his age, and hot, and weird, and he's a little bit in love with her.

The other one is less than a year old, and should be relatively safe and sound to leave alone for five minutes while napping so they can do things like use the bathroom, or argue over the nav, or knock against the walls doing things that babies probably shouldn't know about.

Ahsoka says that Ferus was a rule-abiding guy in the future, uptight, even.

This means nothing, because the ship jolts out of hyperspace without warning while Jango's got his hand up a hot tog's skirt, and they both have to rush to the cockpit to find the literal baby has crawled onto the pilot's seat and somehow turned off the nav.

The baby continues patting, full-palm, at the controls.

"What the fuck?" Jango demands.

"Language," Ahsoka sniffs, and then picks up the baby and swings him around. "Who's a little troublemaker? You are!"

"What the actual--"

"Language!" Ahsoka snaps, a little harsher this time. "There's a baby."

"Yes, I noticed, it just knocked us out of hyperspace."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. "It's fine. We just need to keep a better eye on him."

"This could have been deadly."

"Eh, doubt it," she dismisses. "I mean, with a normal kid, yeah, but I bet you ten to one odds that he did this because the Force told him to."

"I cannot explain how much that doesn't fill me with confidence."

She ignores him. She settles into the chair, toddler on her lap, and closes her eyes. This lasts for several minutes, and Jango tries to keep his impatience under control so he doesn't 'project' it into the Force or whatever it is that the Jedi are worried about. It would distract Ahsoka, and possibly more importantly, it would upset the baby.

"I've got it," she finally says. "A direction. He pulled us out a bit early, but the fact that we didn't overshoot it is a bit of a shocker in and of itself."

"A direction to what?"

She shrugs. "We'll find out."

--

The direction is to a fresh-faced teenage Duros by the name of Cad Bane, who's been floating around the guild's gossip lines for a few years now. He's good, for eighteen, but Jango hasn't met him before, and Ahsoka really doesn't like him--Jedi don't hate, supposedly--and that's enough for Jango to have zero interest in really networking here.

Also, Bane has a stolen toddler. Jango knows the toddler is stolen, because she's dressed in far-too-fancy clothes for Bane to bother with, and screaming her head off, and trying to bite him, and yelling about how she wants to go home. Surprisingly eloquent for a toddler, actually. She can't be more than four.

Jango wants to get involved. He's itching for a fight. He does not get one.

He gets the smaller baby, and is told to take care of said baby and be ready to catch the bigger baby--toddler--while Ahsoka handles the fighting.

It seems kinda personal. Jango leaves her to it. It's not like they need both of them to fight this literal teenager.

(He's right. They don't.)

--

There are now two small children on Jango's ship. One of them is barely-almost a toddler, and the other is barely-almost not.

"I am Padme Naberrie of Naboo," the little girl tells him, all care and important grandeur. "Thank you for saving me. When may I return home?"

Naboo. The noble kids from there are damn creepy. Also worth a good ransom or a better bounty, to some. It's not exactly surprising that Bane went for one of them. the family must be pretty influential somehow.

"Not sure," Ahsoka says. "We were on our way to Coruscant... do you have a number we can call? Maybe one of your parents can meet us on the way."

"That is ac-cep-table," the little girl sounds out. She even bows, a touch wobbly. "Thank you, Master Jedi."

Ahsoka is not a Master, and is only sort of a Jedi. She does not correct little Padme, because that would be a little mean, in Jango's estimate. The girl's just been through something harrowing, and even he's not that much of a dick.

"Do you know their contact info?" he asks instead.

--

They aren't on a convenient hyperlane for Naboo, so they're meeting Lady Naberrie on Corellia. It's several days there, which is still faster than trying to get to Naboo from where they currently are, and Padme spends an hour or two talking to her mother before the woman enters hyperspace and comms are no longer an option. Then she talks to her father, and asks about someone called Sola, and Jango's not paying enough attention to keep track of who's who in the life of a child that is not his.

He doesn't have enough beds on the ship for this.

He empties out a small armor crate and lines it with blankets, then sets it on teh floor by the end of his bed. It's big enough for Ferus, who probably doesn't care much for fancy things. Padme gets her own bed, because they're strangers and it would be odd to suggest she share with Ahsoka as a gender thing. The other, larger bed is then for Jango and his somewhat irritating and entirely too lovely Jedi.

He laces his fingers with hers, once they're in bed, autopiloting down the hyperlane. Padm's breathing has finally evened out, and Ferus hasn't woken up yet either.

"Do you want them?" he asks.

"Hm?" Ahsoka shifts, and when she speaks, it's sleep-heavy and muddled. "Want what?"

"Kids," he says.

She's silent, long enough that he starts to wonder if she's fallen asleep, but eventually she shrugs. "I'll take an apprentice one day, probably."

It's basically the same thing, for Jedi.

"Did I ever..."

He tries not to ask too much about his personal future. He knows how Galidraan would have ended, and knows that somehow, he had been involved in a clone army that tried to kill Ahsoka when she was seventeen. She tries not to tell him too much.

"One," she says. "Boba. A few years younger than me. And..."

She doesn't finish.

"And?"

"Maybe another time," she says.

He's gotten that response more than once. He knows it for the wall it is.

"Alright," he says. "You could... tell me about Boba in the morning?"

"Maybe."

Noncommittal. He's not entirely surprised.

"Okay," he finally says. He presses a kiss to her lek. "Goodnight, Ahsoka."

"Night, Jango."

[se-agapo-skywalker]

Silence at the Cliffs of Dawn

Celebrating one year of the blog 🥳

CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), finger (cybernetic) sucking, oral sex (f! and m! receiving; blowjob/face sitting/69ing)

WC: 3.5k

"...All I ever do is make myself unlikable. You know that," Luke says, "Why do you even bother staying?"

The two of you are laying down in his bed, pressed together tightly to avoid accidentally pushing the other off the already small space--how you managed to convince Luke to let you sleep with him, you have no idea... Of course, you did sleep with him. Your current state of undress is evidence of that; in a move showcasing a rare display of his kindness, he allowed you to hog the majority of the blanket while he chose to rely on the warmth of his nightclothes.

Propping your head up on the pillow, you look at Luke and frown.

"I don't think you do it on purpose... for the most part, anyway," you tease. He raises an unamused eyebrow at you, before shaking his head and letting out a quiet almost-laugh.

"I can't even tell anymore. I guess I've really grown into it."

You fall silent for a moment. "What were you like? Before... When you were a Jedi?"

More silence. The rain outside is just starting to clear up, you notice, but it's still dark out. Luke's features are too dim to fully discern, but even then, you can notice the pain in his eyes... the conflict.

Strangely enough, he laughs. An actual laugh.

"...I looked a lot nicer. Dignified, you know? Not like some hobo hermit living in the middle of nowhere." He sighs. "In all seriousness, though... things were different. I can barely even recognize who I am now, nor can I the man I was before."

"Let me guess..." you smile, trying to picture a younger version of the greying man before you. You've seen the old propaganda posters--shockingly handsome ones, portraying him as the gorgeous golden boy of the Rebellion. "Plenty of admirers? Paramours, even?"

Luke shakes his head with something akin to embarrassment. "People certainly tried, but... that life wasn't for me."

Intrigued, you decide to press even further. "Well, what was? The daring pilot with a life full of adventure, or the wise, contemplative Jedi who liberated entire planets with the wave of his hand?"

"I did my fair share of both, but the truth is far more complicated than that. For a while, I did chase the feeling of being a hero..." His gaze grows distant. Regretful. "But it was all in vain. The people you save get killed. The things you build get destroyed. This galaxy, everything in it, it's all... temporary."

You sit up, blanket sliding off your nude form slightly and catching Luke's attention; as much as he tries to hide it, he can't help the way you affect him. For a moment, you smirk, but with the better view of his face you can see just how tormented he is.

"I mean, the galaxy isn't all that bad... it brought us together, right?"

"But it took so much in the process," Luke mutters in response.

"I-"

"Don't tell me it was worth it. It wasn't."

He moves over onto his back and covers his face with his left hand--hiding tears, no doubt. Tears he isn't yet ready to let you see.

"...The rain is over. You can leave if you wish."

"I'm not leaving," you say, maneuvering yourself over him. Luke peeks up at you through his fingers before you gently grab his hand and move it away from his face. "Not when you need me."

He exhales slowly, sadly, but he makes no move to shove you off him. With your other hand, you brush away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Let me take care of you, alright?"

Just as Luke instinctively opens his mouth to protest, he immediately concedes, settling back into the pillow. He's old, and he's tired, what use is it trying to fight you off? Besides, he wants this--needs it, he discovered at the onset of the rain--so the last thing he's going to do is stop you.

The room is silent, save for the sound of baited breath, as you finally lean over to kiss him. Using your free hand to stroke the fringe out of his eyes, other hand still holding his, you kiss the lines of his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, and finally his lips.

Luke doesn't think he's anything special; you think he's extraordinary. Not for being the hero of your dreams, but for being the man he truly is--as broken and as vulnerable as he may be, he's yours. And that's enough.

Despite the few times you've kissed him, you both take to it like a pikobi to water. You take the lead; his are quite shy, but by the time your lips meet, Luke noticeably relaxes beneath your touch.

His mechanical hand moves to your bare back, tracing the shape of your spine as you arch over him, the texture of the leather glove making you shiver. It moves from your back to your waist, slowly climbing toward your chest, where he graces your nipple with a firm pinch--not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to show his desire. Yes, Luke Skywalker desires you.

Although still sleeping, you can feel the stirrings beneath you as his arousal grows. You're fully awake, restless, hungry. Luke, on the other hand, needs a bit more time, time you're more than willing to give--you know the prize will be worth it.

"Master..." you purr, wiggling your hips slightly as he twitches at the sound of the nickname. "You've seen me. I haven't seen you yet."

"I-I'm nothing worth looking at..."

"You are to me."

Luke moves his cybernetic from the valley of your chest to cradle your face. You silently kiss the palm of his hand, mechanical fingers flexing within the leather, before taking the material between your teeth to pull it off.

"Wait-"

The leather doesn't catch on the metal; instead, it slips off like a raindrop sliding down the stone roof. Luke makes no move to halt its movement. The mechanical fingers are revealed to you, one by one, grey metal glinting in the slivers of moonlight streaming through the window.

"Beautiful..." you whisper, barely loud enough to be audible. But Luke hears you; if he were to respond, he's certain he'd just about cry.

Being linked to his nervous system, he has enough "feeling" in his cybernetic to control its movements and sense external stimuli, but without the synthskin, he can't truly feel. Hence why he barely uses it to touch you, let alone in a sexual context. All you have to do is show him he can.

In a swift motion you barely even stop to ponder, your tongue comes out to explore the metalwork; a metallic flavor--no surprise to you--accompanies the cold, and Luke refrains from flexing his fingers in your mouth.

Stars, he can't even register what you're doing, let alone why you're doing it. He watches you, blue eyes full blown to near-blackness as you suck on his fingers like they were a cock. Speaking of which, his throbs uncomfortably in the confines of his pants. Your movements in his lap feel incredible. Peeking down to look at your bare pussy grinding on him is enough to make him come... well, almost.

You, however, are not a fan of the cloth boundary between you; sure, it adds extra friction, but it's nowhere near as electric of a sensation as skin against skin. You've seen Luke's face, and his flesh hand, and his cock, but that's as far as you've gotten. Is he insecure about being old? It's not a problem to you, and he knows this, but you doubt he's fully internalized it. Being a (former) Jedi Master, you're sure he's covered in scars from the countless battles he's fought in... scars on his arms, his chest, his thighs-

"Y-yes," Luke pants out, seemingly reading your thoughts. "You can..." He can't even finish his sentence, flesh hand moving to grab your free hand and bring it to his clothes.

"Are you sure, Master?"

"Just do it already."

Delicately pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of spit connecting them to your lips, you pin Luke's right arm over his head, just like he did to yours earlier that night. He looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal, a small smile of disbelief forming on his lips. You have plans--and you can't wait to show him.

The material of his sleep shirt is a rough wool of some kind, the cut of it a simple wrap-tunic similar to his Jedi robes. It gives you easy access to his chest; considering just how much Luke likes yours, you believe it's your turn to enjoy his. Ghosting your fingertips beneath the fabric, he shivers at your touch, and you raise an eyebrow at the texture you discover. Coarse, fuzzy, thick--you hadn't expected him to be just as hairy on his chest as he is on his face, but stars, you aren't complaining.

Luke is just about as red as a gundark by the time you pull his sleep shirt open. Of course, his embarrassment is no match for his stubbornness, which quickly bubbles up again to hide his discomfort. Typical Luke.

"Sure took you long enough."

"It did."

"Now what?"

"You'll see..."

Placing both of your palms flat on his chest, you lean over to kiss him once more; your mouth meets his, and then his neck, where you brand it with a startlingly red hickey. At the same time, you're scratching down his torso and tugging at the greying hairs.

Beneath the layer of fur is a web of tendril-like scars, stretching across his body like lightning. You can't help but wonder what dramatic battle between Jedi and Sith must have caused them... but stars, they're beautiful. You're determined to show him this.

Luke groans against your lips--if he had it his way, stars, he'd flip you over and pound you senseless. But no, he has already done that... and he's tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired of being in charge. For once, he'd like to experience what it means for someone to take care of him. Just once.

Taking care of yourself isn't even on your mind. Yes, you're horny beyond belief, skin on fire as you grind your dripping cunt against his still-clothed cock. Force, it isn't enough, it'll never be enough until you get the real thing. But... you want to try something different. You have a feeling he might want to as well.

"Where are you-" Luke begins to ask as you reluctantly pull yourself off him, only to be cut off by you running your fingers down his happy trail before shoving your hand down his pants. "Shavit, sweetheart!"

"Who are you calling sweetheart?" you smile, enjoying the thrill of feeling him before seeing him. His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, and much to your delight he neglected to wear any undergarments. As much as you enjoy the groans that escape his lips at the way you run your thumb over the already leaking tip, the devious part of you desires to tease him even more; removing your hand from his member, you move to squeeze his tightening balls.

"Fuck... fuck..." Luke moans. He's gripping the sheets with his cybernetic, flesh hand resting over the upper half of his face.

"Such language, Master... and such a light touch, too," you say, "I'm starting to worry you won't last for me."

When Luke finally manages to look out from under his hand, there's something strange in his eyes--lust, desire, conviction. To do what, you don't know.

"Sit on me."

"Are you sure? I don't think you're ready-"

"Not my cock. My face."

Now it's your turn to be surprised. All this teasing, all this bossing him around, yet he can't help but turn the tables and remind you who's in charge. That damn Skywalker is impossible to figure out, but you wouldn't have it any other way--in all honesty, that's why you're here. Why you stayed, even when he tried to push you away.

"Very well, Master... but I want a taste of you as well."

Before maneuvering to climb over him, you pull his trousers off his legs in one swift motion, his cock standing at full attention as it springs from its confines. Fuck, just the sight of it is enough to make you want to bounce on it until you're both sweaty and screaming. But not yet.

Your eyes are just keen enough to notice the way Luke blushes at you eyeing him up in the dim light. Stars, he is hairy--not that you're complaining, of course. You just didn't expect the wise old Jedi master to practically be a Wookiee beneath his clothes. He squirms a little under the intensity of your gaze, cock twitching in anticipation. A bead of precum glistens in the faint moonlight and dribbles down the veiny shaft... Licking your lips, you decide to do something about it.

Luke steadies you with his arms as you maneuver to climb over him. Soft apologies and awkward giggles are traded between the two of you as you try to figure out your bearings, metal hand accidentally pinching soft flesh and weight being distributed uncomfortably, but not painfully.

"I-I've never done this before," you breathe out, breaking your previously seductive demeanor.

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Luke's low voice chuckles, "but I think as long as you don't break my neck, we're doing it right."

Your current predicament involves you straddling his neck and facing his chest; you're bent over him, just barely hovering over his face, and his hands are gripping the soft flesh of your ass. The cybernetic in particular digs into your skin in a deliciously painful way, and you know it'll leave marks after--marks you'll wear with pride. Not that anyone other than him will be seeing them.

Luke quite enjoys the view he's getting--it takes practically all his willpower not to pull you down onto his face and go to town, damn the consequences (although a sprained neck at his age in the middle of nowhere is most certainly a bad idea). After having gotten a taste of your pussy before, he's insatiable; he'll do anything to get his fix.

Balancing your weight on your knees and your forearms, you lean forward to assess your target. The slight upward curve of his cock gives you easy access to it; licking down his happy trail, you nuzzle through wiry hairs before greeting his aching, impatient member. The Jedi Master may be able to hide his impatience beneath his actions and his demeanor, but, given his anatomy, his body can't.

Leaning forward, you greedily stick out your tongue to lap up the bead of precum already leaking out. It's... salty, and slightly bitter. You're still not sure about the taste, but it's him, so you want it.

Luke groans beneath you at the feeling of your tongue on him. The vibrations from his voice dance cruelly on your clit, the phantom of pleasure yet to come--before he finally grants you mercy and pulls you down onto his waiting lips.

The gasp that escapes your lips is muffled by you taking him in your mouth to gag yourself on his cock. He felt so massive when he was inside you, but like this... you almost can't handle it. Figuratively, and literally--you stop right before he hits the back of your throat, taking in just enough to really drive him wild without hurting yourself.

Luke drowns his moans in your soaking cunt, his noises and the movement of his hands beckoning you to start moving on his face.

Come on, sweetheart, his voice says in the back of your mind--another Jedi ability, you're sure. You won't hurt me.

Hips and mouth begin a slow, rhythmic pace on him. You can't help the way you tremble ever so slightly, unsure about the pressure of your movements or the depth of your strokes, but that anxiety becomes an afterthought as your senses dissolve into pure pleasure.

Luke fights the temptation to start bucking into your mouth--no, you've been far too good to him, you don't deserve to be treated in such a way. You're his angel, his saving grace, the being he isn't even worthy of touching (yet somehow is). Whatever he did to earn your affection, he wants to repay tenfold--you're his to use as you please.

He uses his tongue on you with as much fervor and hunger as he did earlier that night, if not even more. The taste of you on his lips lights a fire in the pit of his stomach and fully has him drunk on your essence. Reverently Luke alternates between fucking you with his tongue and swirling it around your clit, just as you alternate between sucking and stroking his shaft.

It's so wrong, a master and student behaving like this... Your cheeks flush at the utter indulgence of the act. Whatever afterlife the Jedi of old reside in, you can only hope they aren't witnessing your liaison.

Luke, however, doesn't give a fuck. He hasn't given one in quite some time--why should he live by the rules of the dead? That dogma nearly destroyed him. It ruined everything he ever cared about, everything he never allowed himself to truly love. No, "attachment" was forbidden. Anything that could become a pathway to the dark side was to be shunned.

Luke never understood how for so much of his Jedi training, so much of his life, his emotions were regarded as an inseparable part of him, passion and love he had harnessed to help countless others during the war. That all changed when he saved his father. He had defied Obi-Wan and Yoda's instruction to kill Anakin; therefore, his feelings were misguided, wrong. And it became his duty to suppress them.

But not anymore. He is no longer a Jedi, not in the way he was "meant" to be. He's just Luke, just a hermit, just an old man learning to love again--or, perhaps, learning to love for the very first time.

Luke's cock twitches and kicks in your mouth, threatening to spill at any moment. Teasingly, you pull him out of your mouth--earning a harsh groan into your cunt--to kiss the swollen, purple head.

"Oh, master..." you whisper, tracing his veins with your fingertips, "let go for me. I'm here, I'm ready."

A final squeeze of his balls urges him to finish on your tongue--and, capturing him in your mouth once more, he does. Spurts of hot liquid spill inside you, albeit in a different spot than before, and you choke slightly on the sheer load of it all. You're milking Luke for all he's worth, and he rewards you by practically breeding your mouth. Hips stutter and still as he calms down and starts to soften, so you slip him out of your mouth, gracing the overstimulated head with a final lick.

Your clit throbs at the taste of him cumming in your mouth, the knot forming within your belly signaling your own impending release. Beneath you, Luke is patiently at work drawing it out, exploring the depths of your sacred spot with his tongue. Now you're fully free to ride his face with reckless abandon--a task he encourages you to do with the guidance of his hands squeezing your thighs and groping your ass.

"Luke... Luke..." you moan, letting the sound freely escape your now unoccupied lips. No 'Master,' no titles or nicknames, just his name; his true name, the one he hasn't heard anyone call him in the past six years. If your senses are correct, coupled with the scratchy sensation of his beard, you can feel him smiling into you as he eats you out. He's positively making out with your cunt, kissing you just as he had kissed your other set of lips when you first came to him.

The orgasm that approaches is entirely unlike the one you experienced before; it approaches slowly, like a wave off the coast of the Temple Island, growing and growing in intensity before finally crashing against the shore. You buck your hips on his face, feeling the friction of his beard against your clit as you chase the delicious sensation bubbling beneath the surface.

Soon enough, Luke grants it; your Force bond burns white-hot as you tremble and come undone on his face, slicking his beard with juices he laps up as happily as a massiff. You're sure the cries that escape your lips are audible all the way in the Caretaker village. Luke chuckles beneath you, large hands--the ones that surely left bruises on your skin--coming up to help you slide off his face and into his lap.

Silence. No more rain. Just beyond the cliffs, the twin suns of Ahch-To begin to rise; much like the dawns of his youth, you imagine. You turn your gaze to your new lover's face as the first slivers of light stream through the opening of the window.

"That was..." you start, laughing breathlessly as you run your fingers through your hair.

Luke props himself up on his elbows, wiping his face with his flesh hand. A rare smile appears on his face.

"...Good. Very good."

[arpmemething2]

Agent Carter quotes

Send one for my muse’s response.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"She's a cute broad. When she's not punching me in the face. Who is she?"

"I think you're a man out for his own gain no matter who you're charging."

"How refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the finer things."

"Then we may get hurt, there'll be a spray of bullets."

"Does anyone else feel a chill going up their knickers?"

"I used to strap a chair to my ass and take long walks around the neighborhood, too."

"Your line of work requires support. People who care about your well-being, who'll be there to stitch up your wounds."

"He can be thoughtless. Inconsiderate. Vain. Childish. Unreliable. Arrogant."

"Because unless I have your reports, your coffee, or your lunch, I am invisible."

"It's so hard getting straight answers out of people nowadays. Whatever happened to a nice cup of tea and a civilized interrogation?"

"Promise you'll get the son of a bitch who did this. Say it!"

"You were trying to do something good, and I believe you accomplished it."

"Well, that was a bit premature."

"What? I hate small spaces. What if the chain snaps and I fall to my death?"

"I was angry. That doesn't mean I want you to die."

"You have one chip to trade on, fear, and fear is the one tool that little girls who grow up handcuffed to their beds learn. I however am not afraid of you."

"I'd rather be the cowboy."

"To you, I’m a stray kitten left on your doorstep to be protected. The secretary turned damsel in distress. The girl on the pedestal, transformed into some daft whore."

"And I suppose the confession portrays me as what? A patsy? A doe-eyed idiot succumbed to the charms of America’s mustachioed Casanova?"

"The necklace is equipped with a tracking device so that I can monitor your location at all times. And if you attempt to move the beacon or break even one link in the chain, you will be injected with a neurotoxin which will kill you in 35 excruciatingly painful seconds."

"I wonder if I might request a sick day."

"I'm not here to make you talk. I'm here to make you sing."

"I imagine strange women traipsing through the property isn't a completely unusual occurrence."

"If I allow people to get close to me, I'm putting them in danger."

"How would you feel if we smashed that mirror with this table?"

"Darling, you have no idea."

"Never speak again."

"Get the drop on them?" You've been in custody all of an hour, and you're Jimmy Cagney."

"Am I being fired?"

"Keep your eyes open."

"I like it. I don't think the audience is ready yet."

"You weren't really going to shoot me, were you?"

"Stop wahooing and help!"

"I know my value."

"All of my inventions are in your lab."

"Darling, you have no idea."

"But they're ready for a movie based on a comic book. Sounds like a dreadful idea."

"For all I know, you did steal your inventions."

"Comfortable back there?"

"Just another day at the office."

"I figured you'd never have a problem finding a man."

"My land lady gave me an idea."

"What kind of thing is that? The alphabet? I can teach you. Let's start with words beginning with "A"

"And one more thing... tip generously."

"Now, I go to work."

"Technically, we don't even know if it works. But, let's face it. I invented it. So, it works."

"You were happy out here, and then I came and mucked up your whole life."

"Maybe I was just fooling myself."

"Then why is your mustache so sad?"

"I'm just considering all the angles. It seems you have a lot of them."

"I, however, am not afraid of you."

"I could do with a hobby."

"In polite society, one telephones ahead before trespassing."

"I understand you're not happy with your meal."

"So, I've got two foreign agents with no voice boxes fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives."

"I'm so sorry. Truly."

"I have a terrible idea!"

"You're new to espionage, aren't you?"

"We're still attached to a table."

[mayorwatermelon]

I’ve decided for some reason to explain exactly what it is about being stuffed that is so hot for me. Maybe it’s so that I can understand it better myself? This will probably be kind of boring for some people, but in the tradition of using this blog as a locker for all the feelings that don’t have a place in the rest of my life, I’m just gonna fucking send it.

1a) The belly itself, MASOCHISM: pain in a sexual context turns me on; the pain of being waaay too full, feeling my stomach stretched to its limit, the pain of indigestion

1b) The belly itself, sounds and other sensations: the sensation and noises of digestion, and BURPING (relief from discomfort)

1c) Visual signs; being very visibly round, distended, the difference in size, shape between empty and stuffed

2) Exhibitionism: the process of getting stuffed/bloated needs to be witnessed. This is why, no matter how hard I try, I can never manage to stay away from having some sort of belly kink blog for very long. The sensations are one thing, but without being SEEN, it doesn’t feel anywhere near as gratifying. Additionally, outside of the world of bellies, I have always had a kind of slutty desire to be seen and displayed for an appreciative audience. The idea of being someone’s eye candy is very, very hot to me.

3) Praise: related to exhibitionist tendencies, I want to be praised for my capacity, for how round and noisy my belly is, for how my burps sound. I also enjoy being praised for like, everything about my body. I am secretly (although it’s probably not that much of a secret to people who follow this blog lol) a little vain. Or maybe I just need a lot of validation. [Being degraded, described as a pig, all of that, is very hurtful to me because of stuff that happened when I was younger. Fortunately, almost everyone I’ve interacted with has been extremely chill and never assumed that I would want that (probably bc I am a guy, although I did run into some of that when I was on *shudders* feabie)]

4) Dom/sub dynamic: so there are certain situations and partners where I do enjoy being dominant, and that feels very natural, I have realized over the last few years that I am much more submissive. The thing is, I am also (usually but not always) much bigger (5’ 11”, 215) and (always) much stronger than my partner, so it always seemed more “natural” to the women I’ve been with that I would be the dominant one. And I mean, logically, if I can at least bench press you if not lift you over my head, how are you going to make me submit?

But it’s not all about physical domination! All the ways a could domme find to gain control of me without having to physically overwhelm me (or that would make physically overwhelming me much easier) are, in fact, much hotter to me. The fact that someone would want me, and to dominate me, enough that she would come up with creative ways to gain that dominance is so good. It’s hot because it breaks with conventional norms and roles, it’s hot because it means that a woman finds me desirable enough to flout convention and bend rules to take advantage of me and claim me. And the hottest way, by far, is taking advantage of my naturally outsized appetite to make sure I am too stuffed to do anything but give in to your designs for me…

5) The not very kinky but still very strong need for emotional intimacy involved in stuffing aftercare! Belly rubs are affectionate and good and sweet! It shows that not only do you think I was a good boy for you, but that you care, and that is just the best.

Anyway, this was very silly and self indulgent (so is the whole blog lol), but if anyone was curious about the “whole picture”, this is pretty close.

[sunnynwanda]

Friends & Enemies

The rain hits hard against their burning skin as Hero rushes down the street. Their clothes are wet, their eyes - even more so, but the rain has nothing to do with the latter. Today was a record day, and they… they were the champion.

How many people can disappoint a person in one day?

The stakes weren't particularly high, given that Hero had two and a half friends in total. The half being their new sidekick, who turned out to be a double agent that had infiltrated with the sole purpose of revealing Hero's identity and making them an easy target for the criminal minds of the city. Turns out, their parents were criminals that Hero had arrested.

They sigh loudly. I didn't even kill them, so what's the drama about?

But that was only the half of the harsh truth. The other two 'friends' of theirs, as Hero found out just now, had their allegiance changed by the mayor. Money can buy anything in this city, the man had claimed with the most disgusting of smiles. Even you can see it.

Hero could. Yet they refused to become a pawn in the game led by the highest officials. What devastated them most was the realisation that all of their hard work had been in vain, always drifted in the wrong direction. They felt like a clown that tried their best to do good but ended up as laughing stock for those using them.

They managed to escape with a gunshot that grazed their skin and a deeper wound to their self-esteem - the second one, despite not being physical hurt significantly more. Everything in their life had been a ruse, leaving them a puppet that never knew of their strings. Not one person had been honest with them, yet they were constantly blamed for not trusting anyone with their identity. Turns out that was the right call after all.

They cross the yard and sneak into their apartment building and up the stairs, careful not to attract attention. Their roommate has a night shift today, so they don't bother shutting the door to their room as they stroll into the bathroom.

Damp clothes discarded on the floor, they return to their bedroom, plopping face down on the bed with a satisfied groan when a familiar voice drags them out of their sleepy thoughts. "Anything wrong?"

Hero could as well fly in front of their roommate - that's how high they jump up. "Why are you home?"

Their voice is panicked despite knowing full well they sneaked in unnoticed.

"Why, I can't be at my own apartment now?" Amusement seeps through their roommate's voice.

"That's not what I meant." Hero props themselves up on their arms to see their interlocutor. "Aren't you working today?"

Hero begs them not to question their reasons for knowing a roommate's schedule so well. They don't. "There was a power shortage in the city, so we closed. Have you seen that shower outside?"

Hero almost growls. Even their bones are cold, muscles stiff as if the damp clothes are still touching their skin. They get up, moving to sit on the couch. Their roommate follows behind, a concerned look touching their eyebrows. "What's up?"

"Nothing." Hero hates the way their voice sounds so whiny. They don't want to talk about this. "I'm tired and cold after walking under that rain."

Their roommate nods, searching for a blanket before returning to their place. "Listen. I might be dense in many aspects, but this ain't one." They claim, watching Hero intently. "What happened to leave you all moody?"

"I'm not moody!" The side eye says everything their roommate doesn't utter. So Hero repeats. "Am. Not." They sigh, letting their head drop back. "I'm disappointed."

"In?" Their roommate is restless, which would be irritating if only they weren't so endearing.

"In everything. And everyone." The room is quiet for a moment. Their breathing and the rattle of the raindrops are the only sounds. "But most of all - in myself."

"Hey, I'm not sure what it is, but don't be too harsh on yourself." Their roommate starts. Hero can barely hear them through the sleep haze. "You're so overworked a mistake was bound to happen."

Hero smiles at the softness in their voice. Maybe the count of their friends wasn't correct after all. Maybe, it should have been three and a half. Except they never talked with their roommate unless it was necessary.

"Is it that bad?" They ask, shifting on the couch to face them while talking.

"To the point that I'm doubting if I'm on the right side." Hero blurts out without thinking.

"Of… what?" They freeze. Both of them. Hero can feel a chill run down their spine. Shit.

"Forget it." Is all they can muster, knowing full well it's not going to satisfy their interrogator.

"Wait, no." The shakiness in their voice should be alarming, Hero thinks. Yet they cannot bring themselves to care. "You can't say something like that and then request me to forget it. What are you talking about?" Hero shakes their head, moving to get up when their roommate places a hand on their forearm. "I have a feeling this isn't about selling ice cream anymore."

Hero knows this is a bad idea. They know they are going to regret it. But the loneliness consumes their entire being, and honestly… can it get any worse at this point? They don't know. What they do know is they want to pour their heart out to the most random person in their life. Well, at least they are still in their life, unlike their so-called friends.

Ah, fuck it. "I'm Hero." They say matter-of-factly. They can sense the breathing pattern of their interlocutor accelerating. "And today, I discovered that everyone I trusted is a traitor."

Their roommate is gaping. Appropriate reaction. They keep chattering to ease the tension.

"I know it's shocking, and I shouldn't have unloaded this on you. I'm sorry." They shake their head, already remorseful. Too big of a secret to share with a neighbour. "Forget I said anything. Let's think I was drunk."

"No, no, no, no. You cannot backtrack from this. Not after this kind of a revelation." They sound panicked as if Hero's identity matters more than it presumably should. They pause, looking blindly into the darkness of the room. "You're Hero? You're Hero! God damn it, my roommate is…"

"And this is exactly why I never told anyone before." Hero interrupts their monologue of thoughts with their own. "Shoulda kept doing that."

"To be honest," their roommate starts, focusing on the conversation. Their mind is reeling, but Hero has no need of knowing that. "You are on the wrong side."

"Huh?" Hero turns, looking at the flushed face of their newfound friend. "Are you a Villain apologist or something?"

"Suppose I am." They admit with a barely concealed smirk. "Can you blame me for it?"

Hero stops. Entirely. Their brain collapses for a long moment before they can restart it.

"Are you alright?" Worry laces their roommate's voice when they touch Hero's arm again.

"Yeah." Hero squeezes out, licking their lips to collect their thoughts. "Apart from realising I was looking for the enemy in the wrong place this whole time." They shake their head, rubbing their eyes with the palms of their hands. "They're not the evil one, are they? Villain."

"Well, no? I like to call them a villain with a cause." The claim makes Hero chuckle.

"That's quite fitting." They accept, wondering what their nickname would be. A loser with no brain? Their roommate offers them a crooked smile before getting up. Dazed, Hero doesn't realize they are thinking out loud when they say. "The whole leather aesthetic makes more sense now."

"Hey, what's wrong with my aesthetic?" The words roll off their lips before they can stop them. They bite their tongue, but it's too late.

"What did you just say?" Hero is staring at them with the widest eyes they have ever seen on a human.

They know they fucked up. Doesn't mean they cannot try to salvage the situation. In the dumbest way possible. "N-nothing."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Ooh, you can't backtrack from this one." The excitement of the revelation tingles their fingertips. And then it dawns on Hero. "Damn. You're my hot archnemesis? You?! Out of everyone?!"

"Excuse me, I'm your what?" Villain's voice reaches an uncomfortably high pitch on the last word, scratching the back of their throat. Hero beams at how flustered Villain is by their unintended confession.

"I do think I was on the wrong side." They admit, standing up to face their nemesis without any masks in the way. "Not anymore."

"I'm still not over the fact you called me hot, but…" Villain starts. They laugh when Hero rolls their eyes at that. "Want some hot chocolate?"

"By all means, yes!" Hero sits by the bar of their shared kitchen, watching their foe-turned-friend fuss around, making hot chocolate with adorable smiley marshmallows. They still feel like an idiot for being blind all along. But, the disappointment eating at them dissipates with every little gulp.

Sometimes what the city needs is not a noble hero to save the day. Sometimes it's a villain with a cause, ready to dirty their hands to fix the problem at the root. Once and for all. And Hero? Hero has chosen their side.

Masterlist

[goldenempyrean]

can you do some 'angst' one like, Lizzie's her assistant and Lizzie's being a bitch to her but her assistant is so nice that she even blame her self for that but one time her assistant had a sick/accident so lizzie will take care of her.

Yes Ma'am

〚 Notes - I wrote this when I was meant to be sleeping so we’re gonna excuse how awfully written this is, my sleep deprived brain isn’t good at wording things ;) 〛

〚 Pairing - Lizzie Olsen x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Dealing with your boss was exhausting, but after you get sick and push yourself to the point if exhaustion it seems Lizzie is finally ready to change. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1530 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Working for one of the biggest news publishers in the country was your biggest achievement. Reaching your position at such a young age was almost unheard of in this field. Everything was perfect…

Well, almost perfect. Your boss was a nightmare. To anybody else, Elizabeth Olsen was a strong, independent, and nurturing boss. Even just working in her department was considered a privilege. But not for you.

Every effort to impress her was met with cold, harsh resistance. She scanned through every page of your work with a fine-toothed comb, critiquing every last detail. Hell, she even criticized the font you used.

Despite her criticisms, your work had been recognized numerous times by other departments. Honestly, you'd lost track of how many transfer requests you'd received from other departments asking you to transfer.

Yet every time you'd gone to Lizzie and asked, no, begged her to sign off on your transfer, she'd decline. She never explained why either, just flat out refused. Eventually, you gave up even asking.

You tried your best to ignore her constant criticism and focused on improving your skills. You spent hours perfecting your writing, researching new topics, and attending seminars to learn from industry experts.

However, it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't meet Lizzie's high standards. You began to feel frustrated and demotivated, wondering if all your efforts were in vain. But still, you pressed on, pushing harder and harder every day. Honestly, even getting four hours of sleep a night was a rarity.

It wasn't a surprise when you got sick. You'd felt it coming too, that residual stuffiness that never seemed to go away, the small tickle at the back of your throat. But still, when you woke up feeling completely awful, you couldn't help but muffle an exhausted, raspy groan into your pillow.

You dragged yourself out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were bloodshot, and your face was pale. You knew you needed to take a sick day, but the thought of calling in and facing Lizzie's wrath made your stomach churn.

After a few minutes of deliberation, you finally mustered up the courage to call in sick. Lizzie picked up the phone, and you could feel her cold gaze piercing through the receiver.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her tone sharp and impatient.

"I'm not feeling well," you replied weakly, your voice barely audible.

There was a moment of silence before Lizzie finally spoke again, “Tough, we're majorly down on our readership. We need everyone working at full speed. I expect you to be on time. Do I make myself clear?”

You couldn't believe how heartless she was being. You knew you couldn't go into work feeling the way you did, but you also couldn't afford to lose your job, “Yes ma'am.”

After a few minutes of contemplation, you decided to push through and make your way into work. You arrived at the office feeling like a zombie, barely able to keep your eyes open. As you sat at your desk, you struggled to focus on your work, feeling fevered and dizzy.

By noon, the pile of tissues in your trashcan was threatening to overflow, and the sound of your ceaseless sniffling was the background track of the office, much to the displeasure of the colleagues around you.

“Hh’tshoo!” Your head bobbed down as you sneezed into a crumpled tissue, sniffling thickly before trailing off into a series of crackling coughs.

“Bless you…” A distinct voice said from behind you. Lizzie cleared her throat as you turned around in your chair, expecting to be met with her cold eyes and a tongue-lashing over the lack of work you’d done. 

But instead, you were surprised to see a concerned look on her face. "You really are sick…” She sighed, she almost sounded surprised. 

You sniffled, reaching over to snatch a tissue only to be met with an empty back, “Why did you think I was lying?” You tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as more of a fatigued mumble. 

Lizzie hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off that way. I just… I've never seen you take a sick day before." 

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After all the times you had begged for a transfer, after all the times she had criticized your work, Lizzie was finally showing a hint of empathy. 

“How about we talk in my office?” She asked quietly, overly aware of the over listening ears of the office gossips. 

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had always thought of Lizzie as a harsh and unyielding boss, but now it seemed like there was a different side to her. Perhaps she was just trying to push you to be the best you could be. 

Feeling curious and a little nervous, you followed Lizzie into her office. As soon as the door closed behind you, you noticed a distinct change in her demeanour. She was no longer the cold and critical boss you had grown accustomed to. 

"Sit down," she said, gesturing towards a chair in front of her desk. 

You sat down, feeling a little apprehensive about what was to come. Lizzie took a seat opposite you and leaned forward, looking at you with a serious expression. 

"Listen, I know I haven't been the easiest boss to work for," she said. "I can be tough and critical, but it's only because I want you to succeed. I've seen a lot of potential in you from the beginning, and I believe that you can go far in this industry." 

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope in your chest. 

"But you need to understand that this is a tough business," Lizzie continued. "Readership is down, budgets are tight, and we're all under a lot of pressure to perform. I need my team to be at the top of their game at all times, and that means pushing you to be your best." 

"I understand," you said, feeling a sense of clarity wash over you. "But why won't you let me transfer to another department?" 

Lizzie leaned back in her chair and sighed. "The truth is, I don't want to lose you. You're one of my best writers, and I need you here. But that doesn't mean I can't help you grow. We can work together to develop your skills and help you become the best writer you can be." 

You felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. The weight that had been hung over your chest finally felt like it had been lifted. 

“I realise now that I may have gone too far. I haven't been giving you the support you need to reach your full potential," Lizzie continued, her voice softening as you coughed again, “You really don’t sound well though, I’m sorry I made you come in. Do you feel like you have a fever?” 

You nodded weakly, feeling grateful for the concern Lizzie was showing. She immediately got up from her seat and walked over to you, placing a hand on your forehead. 

"You're burning up," she said, her voice full of worry, “You shouldn’t drive home like this, do you have anyone to pick you up? Girlfriend, boyfriend maybe?” 

You shook your head, feeling grateful for Lizzie's concern. "No, I don't have anyone to pick me up." 

Lizzie paused for a moment, considering her options. "Alright then, I'll take you home myself. I have a meeting that I can’t reschedule for the next few hours but I’m more than happy to let you rest on my couch for the meantime.” She nodded towards the black couch set against the wall. 

You were taken aback by Lizzie's sudden kindness. You had never expected her to offer to take care of you in this way. You nodded gratefully, feeling a little overwhelmed by the situation. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lizzie smiled warmly, her eyes softening. "Of course. It's the least I can do." 

With that, she helped you to your feet and led you over to the couch. You sank down onto the soft cushions, feeling the weight of the day's stress and illness start to lift off your shoulders. 

Lizzie disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a glass of water. She draped the blanket over you and handed you the glass. 

"Rest up," she said, her voice full of concern. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you." 

You nodded weakly, feeling a deep sense of gratitude towards your boss but there was something else As you closed your eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at the sudden care Lizzie was showing towards you.  

There was something about her tone of voice, or maybe it was that deep caring look behind her eyes. Whatever it was, just the thought was enough to make you feel a little warmer inside. 

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[epickiya722]

Your recent posts about Gojo... It's literally why I interact less and less in fandom. People see hot characters and project stereotypes on them without a care of what they are

It can sound petty especially with how it doesn't matter in the long run but it's like seeing people saying that in a no curse au Sukuna would be a playboy... Like yeah it's an au, he will be a bit different (like not being a mass murderer cannibal) but that is just... Seem so ooc to me, even in an au.

But well yeah. They just change them into male lead of romance novels. They don't matter in another context to them which is why you'll see me blow up about how vain it all feel like

Another example is how interesting Jogo is but nobody care about him because they don't want to fuck him. Like his last fight with Sukuna? The fact that he's the first person Sukuna ever praised for being strong in the story? A "stand proud. You are strong." Like? When I game to this moment I was zo shocked because it's not expected on Sukuna at all. And how Jogo mourned the death of Hanami and Dagon too?!

Yeah you know I just know now that outside of fanworks it's better to just ignore fellow fans because they have nothing to say beside how hot a character is

It really does suck that when it comes to liking a character some people just stop at their appearance and that's it. Nothing else intrigues them and they go as far as to misinterpret them -> leading into misinterpreting the story and having terrible ass cold takes that just feels like they need something to say to make them sound "logical".

And it's people like that who are the loudest. So when others want to engage in the story and they check out meta posts and reviews for it, they'll see that trash first and run with it.

When JJK first came out, I did see it was quite popular but at most I saw fanart for it and kind of just ignored everything else. I went ahead with watching the anime and then went to see what people were saying and honestly? What the hell?

Gojo is a character that has a bad case of "likeable character, unlikeable fans".

I truly do believe that some of his fans only take to him for being attractive and powerful. When it comes to his story? "Eh, what's that?"

Look, I'm all for finding characters attractive. I, myself, find some characters attractive. But I don't see the thrill of stopping there when that character also has a whole story you can explore.

I know Gojo fans are mad, but... his pretty ass is in a story that is meant to be written tragically. People will say "he should be the MC, that's my MC". Well, guess what? He's part of the main cast, so his ass is getting that full experience.

I like Gojo a lot, too, I do. But watching the first season, something deep in my soul told me "oh, he's a sad one", so I guess a part of me was already prepared for something like 236.

This is going to sound harsh, but when he said "I would win" way back in the beginning? I clocked in that he, in fact, wouldn't. That fight against Sukuna was going to be a lost battle. Oh, I believed in Gojo and I wanted him to win. But whenever a nearly, seemingly invincible character say they are going to win... most likely they're going to lose.

And again, it's JJK. There's going to be loses and agony. It also doesn't matter sense for Gojo to win when YUJI STILL EXISTS!!! Like, sometimes, I feel like some of the fandom just wants Gojo to take the frontlines just so Yuji can't do anything.

I didn't expect for him to die, no. Still hurts. But... come on... the manga wasn't ending that soon.

The fanon interpretations I see of him (Gojo) is just... if you asked me to pick one I hate the most it is the "Gojo is a womanizer/playboy" interpretation. Same case for Sukuna, I do not see it. Especially, when in canon this guy just does not care for all of that. But it's fanon stuff and since I don't like it, I just steer clear of it.

And good point about Jogo. I'll be honest, I find that the Disaster Curses were interesting antagonists of the beginning of JJK. They were the first real threats for our cast. They were challenges.

They were curses made from humanity's fear of disasters and other humans. And yet, even with being curses, they showed "human" qualities. They were able to talk, a rare case for curse spirits, and feel other emotions. Mahito often displayed joy, example. Dagon and Jogo displayed sadness. They were a group that did hold some care for each other.

And yeah, I would say because of their physical appearances they're often ignored. (Unimportant, but I actually loved Hanami's design, that's my favorite design right there.)

[klausysworld]

Hey could you do a smut klaus x blackreader the reader is marcels sister visiting him but klaus doesn’t know that reader is marcels sister so klaus and reader hookup and when marcel finds out he flips out?

Shit. Marcel.

i was lead across a sofa waiting in one of the living rooms in the compound like my brother had requested when someone stormed in. I knew immediately who this once, Marcel had warned me plenty. I looked him over noticing his lean body, you could still make out his muscles through his slightly too tight henley, it clung to him perfectly. His arms were crossed over his chest, he was giving a dominant stance, he was in a bad mood, that was clear. The fabrics of his clothing were obviously to the best quality, it looked soft to touch. I glanced down at his jeans, the dark material must have been new on, they didn’t look worn at all. His leather boots also looked untouched, vampire or not i still wear the same clothes pretty frequently, how many outfits did he have?

A throat cleared and i looked back to his face, stubble ran across his jaw, only really noticeable when close up. His lips were perfect, a lovely shade of pink, maybe a tint of red? They’re full and look so soft. His nose had a slight curve to it but i could tell his side profile would still be highly attractive. The apples of his cheeks fit his face well, maybe he’d have dimples? I met his pale blue eyes though they seemed to somewhat darken as i studied them, the smallest traces of green danced within them, turquoise maybe? One brown raised and only then did i realise he had said something, his lips now pulled into a smirk, a very very distracting smirk.

“i know that i’m a nice view love but i don’t enjoy repeating myself” his accent was stronger than i had imagined, then again i also sort of pictured him to be more bulky, hard features and dark hair for some reason, maybe to suit his oh so dangerous reputation.

“uhuh well could you just this once, i wasn’t listening” i smiled sheepishly as i turned over to lay on my stomach facing the man over the edge of the chair, i wetted my lips and adjusted my hair.

“yes that much was obvious, i asked who you were” he looked annoyed but somehow adorable at the same time, i’m not sure if his lips were purposely in a slight pout or naturally. His foot tapped slightly gaining my attention and he look thoroughly amused

“y/n” i stated simply looking to his hair. He used top quality conditioner for sure. His curls were natural and went well with his his face.

“right well y/n could you tell me why you’re in my house?” i made a long ‘mmm’ sound before pursing my lips thinking it over. If he knows i’m marcels sister he’ll probably get all cocky. If he thinks i don’t know much then he’ll be a little more chill.

“I’m one of Marcels vampires” i decided to go with an easy option

“i haven’t seen you before” great he’s just as paranoid as my brother said.

“well there’s a lot of us so i’m not surprised” i muttered rolling my eyes

“yes but i think i would remember you, i wouldn’t forget a face like that” ah smooth. I let out a laugh at that which had both his eyebrows rising as he watched me push a hand to my mouth

“really? why’s that? am i just that beautiful? am i like an angel that dropped from heaven” sarcasm dripped from my voice as i giggled through it. If Marcel were here he would’ve been on the floor, this guys 1000 years old and you can just tell he’s going to be cheesy. I glanced up at him to see a more genuine smile on his face as he watched me calm down

“well i would have argued you were very beautiful but now i’m not so sure you need the flattery” he mused walking closer and sitting on the arm of the chair i was on, i decided to stretch my arms over his legs before turning round to lay on my back, i leant back using his thigh like a pillow

“well what can i say? perhaps i’m just a vain person, look we already have something in common” i clapped enthusiastically until his hand came down a grabbed both of mine keeping them together. I couldn’t help the little wave of excitement it gave me seeing his hand move to grip my wrists, his hands were much bigger than mine, i followed the veins from them up to his forearm, his sleeves were slightly pushed up allowing me go see his strong arms. I groaned at the idea’s running through my head and i heard a him chuckle lowly

“you’re either a new vampire who can’t control their lust or just haven’t been satisfied for far to long” he squeezed my wrists with one hand and pulled them up over my head, my arms now over his thighs as-well.

“maybe i’m just bored” i muttered watching his other hand move to touch my torso. I was wearing a tight top, it was cropped too allowing his fingers to feel my rich skin. I could feel my panties dampen under my shorts and i shifted a little to become more comfortable

“well it just so happens i have nothing to do, perhaps you and i can help each other” he murmured putting his hands under my tank top, my bra was strapless and so he easily pulled it from my body making me gasp. The pads of his fingers lightly stroked across my nipples and i arched up to meet his hand

“i’m meant to be waiting for Marcel” i muttered trying to remind myself that if my brother walked in i would be very much dead and so would Klaus

“what could he have that you want?” he questioned with a pinch and i moaned softly

“oh fuck it” i huffed vamp speeding him flat on his back on the sofa straddling his waist. I leant down and forcefully kissed his sultry lips, it was a kiss of raw need, lust, desire whatever you want to call it. It was rushed and sloppy. A fight for dominance with our tongues which i eventually gave into and was immediately flipped back around, his crotch rubbed against mine as i pulled his head closer, my hands were now in his fluffy hair tugging harshly making him grunt into my mouth. His hands gripped my hips in a bruising manner, i wrapped my legs around his hips pulling him as close as possible. His chest touched mine as we parted, both panting heavy breaths and i lifted the henley over his head throwing it to the floor before reaching down to his jeans. He quickly kicked them off before dragging my shorts down, he didn’t waste a second before removing my underwear as-well. I groaned as the cool air hit me

“so wet for someone you just met” he muttered leaving open mouth kisses down my body. My top was the only thing i still had on but he let wet patches on the fabric where his mouth was anyway. I spread my legs wider as he sucked along my thighs, i sighed bringing my hand down to run my fingers through his hair making him look up at me. I didn’t look away for a second as his tongue licked a strip all the way up my pussy, i gaped slightly as he pushed his mouth against me, sucking at me like i was his last meal, i forced my eyes open to keep on his.

“fuck you’re good” i laughed breathily as my nails scratched his scalp lightly, he groaned and plunged his tongue deeper inside me, curling it and just touching my spot, i pulling his locks closer getting him to hit the spot better, i moaned out lowly while watching him. His eyes went back to my core and he let his nose brush my clit, i gasped at the shot of ecstasy running to my lower stomach.

“we don’t have time for this” i mumbled mostly to myself than him and reluctantly pushed him away. The confused look on his face was priceless as i moved to sit up

“what are you doing?” he questioned seemingly offended

“i don’t have much time, i’d rather your cock than your mouth right now” i muttered crawling towards him and claiming his lips with mine once again to keep him quiet…and maybe because i just liked his lips. I pulled away sooner than last time and moved my hands to feel his pants. He was very much ready, and very well endowed, i’m not sure why i was so surprised but i definitely wasn’t disappointed.

“aw so hard for someone you just met” i quoted him mockingly and his jaw clenched

“you’re the one who couldn’t keep your eyes off me, you were desperate before i even walked in” he definitely doesn’t like being embarrassed, his cheeks were turning a shade of pink as he spitted his words back at me

“says the man who immediately went to touch my tits, you want me to stop Klaus?” i whispered as i pulled him from his boxers and stoked him slowly. His hips jerked slightly as i brushed his tip with my thumb before he grabbed my wrist with a growl

“i think you’re overestimating your power sweetheart” he murmured shoving me onto my back, both wrists were pinned above my head tightly as he gripped himself in his hand. He paused for a second and glanced at me, he was asking me? i gave him a little nod and with that he pushed inside me, i moaned out feeling his size stretch me, my eyes closing as my back arched to him

“struggling to adjust are we love? is my cock too big for your tight little pussy?” i groaned at his words while he fully seated himself inside me

“you’re accent is far too pretty to say such dirty words” i laughed as i squeezed around him a few times waiting for the discomfort to pass.

“what would you prefer i say?” he asked sounding shocked at my honesty

“i’d prefer you just fucked me” i whispered with a roll of my hips gasping as he slid out a little before back in as my hot walls swallowed him again this time only pleasure coursing through me. He began moving his hips to mine slower than i expected him too, it allowed me to feel every vein of his thickness as his hard dick caressed my walls making me groan deeply.

I opened my eyes to see his shut tightly, his lips parted as soft breaths escaped them, he looked peaceful sort of. Content maybe. His hand’s grip went slack against my wrists letting me reach my hands out to touch his angelic face. My thumbs stroked his lips lightly and he picked up his pace, i sucked in a breath as he got deeper inside me, a familiar knot twisting inside. I wrapped my legs higher up his body getting him to hit just right as he now pounded into me harshly, brows furrowed and his breathing now a pant. I quietly moaned his name as his tip seemed to rub my spot at a supernatural speed.

I moved my hand down between our bodies and let my index figure touch my throbbing clit making me whimper louder than anticipated. His eyes opened slowly, looking down to my hand before he guided away from myself and rubbing my stomach lightly

“sorry love” he muttered before having his own fingers circle my sensitive nub having me moan his name much louder. The combination of his hips snapping to mine, cock slamming into me and his warm fingers playing with me perfectly in time had my legs shaking slightly, back arched so much my breasts brushed against his chest bringing that extra sensation that had the knot inside screaming to come undone. I gripped onto his back feeling his shoulder blades flex beneath my fingers as i applied pressure with my nails. He twitched inside me while i clutched him tightly, my head fell back presenting him with my smooth bronze neck. I heard him groan as his lips pressed to my skin, my throat tingles where he touched, my clit pulsed faster and my walls tightened drastically

“can i bite you sweetheart?” he whispered letting his teeth graze my neck

“as long as it isn’t with your werewolf venom then yeah” i whispered back impossibly quietly but he still heard me

“i don’t think i would ever want to harm someone as heavenly as you” i breathed another laugh at that.

His teeth sunk into my flesh, the feeling utterly euphoric as my walls squeezed once more tightly as i came with a cry, he groaned against my throat, his hips stuttering before coming to a halt as he released thick ropes of himself inside of me, the full feeling making me moan loudly once again while his fingers slowed on my swollen clit before pulling away.

His face left my neck for a second before he brought his tongue back to swipe across the healing wounds

“so gorgeous” he muttered grabbing my jaw and kissing me once again, his tongue already dancing with mine as i tasted my own blood and pulled him closer.

The sound of my ringtone caused me to pull away making him groan as i reached out to grab my phone

shit. Marcel.

my eyes widened and i sat up way too fast, forgetting he was still inside me, i whimpered quietly as i pulled myself off of him. He sat watching blankly as i quickly got redressed holding the ringing phone

“hey uh, i’ll see you around yeah? okay. Thanks for keeping me busy, you were great” i kissed his lips quickly before stumbling out the room and answering the call.

———————————————————————

I had been staying in my own apartment while visiting my brother, we had learnt from past experiences that when we live under the same roof we just bicker and get pissed off. We love each other but that doesn’t mean we have to do everything together.

I hadn’t seen Klaus since, probably better off, he had a werewolf who was pregnant with his child and a blond psychiatrist who were probably swooning for him. He was a busy guy, if didn’t even think about him…that much, i didn’t think about him that much.

———————————————————————

Marcel and i had just been out for lunch, we were catching up on everything that had happened the past few years and how he felt about the whole originals situation. I had decided to walk him back to the compound as we were halfway through our conversation when we left the café and my apartment wasn’t far from him.

I came in for 20 minutes or so as nobody else was in, he showed me the changes to the interior he had done since my last visit and i met some of the new vampires.

Just as i was walking out of the door i walked straight into something hard. I swear i opened the door.

i looked up to see Klaus. ah shit.

he looked surprised and quickly wrapped his arms around me making me panic slightly knowing Marcel was just behind me

“wouldn’t want you running off again would we love?” he whispered pulling me flush against him

Suddenly Klaus was shoved off of me and Marcel had me behind him

“what do you mean again? don’t you touch her” he warned as Klaus went to step closer to me. I bit my lip nervously and grabbed Marcels hand

“we met- the other day and i left pretty quick is all” i smiled innocently and Marcel studied me closely before his eyes widened and he stepped back

“tell me you did not sleep with Klaus Mikaelson” i blinked at him, the second i opened my mouth he began talking again

“oh this! this! is fucking fantastic! I mean really you know that this is the wrong time to do something like this! wars are happening everywhere and you thought that was a good idea” he gestured towards Klaus aggressively and i shrugged my shoulders

“we actually only really covered the situation today and i fucked him the first day i was here soo…” Marcel brought both hands to run down his face as he sighed loudly

“neither of you ever, ever speak to each other again, that will never repeat, am i clear y/n” he was staring straight into my soul

“i dunno at this point i might just do it again to piss you off” i shrugged and glanced at an extremely confused Klaus, who was a combination of amused, slightly nervous and just lost

“you dare.” he whispered quietly as he pushed me out the compound quickly as i laughed. The door slammed behind me and immediately i heard yelling, objects shattered and the smell of blood. Fuck.

I vamp sped back inside and dragged Marcel off of a bloody Klaus

“would you just calm the fuck down for like two minutes” i growled as i held him back. Klaus remained sat on the floor clearly surprised at the outburst

“that fucking mutt put his hands on you, i’m going to end him if it kills me too” yea that seemed to bring Klaus back. His eyes yellow as he ripped Marcel from my grip and tossed him against the room. He punched him once, twice, three times before i sped in the way and took the fourth hit crying out at the force of his hit. Immediately both men shut up, no hands were thrown and silence took over the room. My eyes remained on Klaus’s as pure fear settled on his face, Marcel gently touched my cheek where i was hit

“i’m so sorry, oh god i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do- that! i wasn’t, i didn’t” Klaus was backing away quickly wiping his hand on his shirt nearly tripping over his own foot

“it was my fault, i overreacted and purposely got him mad, lets just get you home okay, i’m sorry y/n, you know i wouldn’t-“

“no it’s fine, i jumped in the way, i knew he’d get me instead it’s okay, i’m not hurt, I’m a vampire, i heal, both of you just apologise to each other and i’m gonna get a drink or something” i gave Klaus a small reassuring smile as i left the room.

By the time i came back they were both sat down quietly.

“i’m sorry i hurt you” klaus whispered and i gently pet his hair

“that’s okay, i forgive you” i mumbled rubbing my thumb over his pouted pink lips

“and i’m sorry i slept with your sister, i wasn’t aware”

“it’s fine i overreacted, it’s not like i’m not seeing your sister so you know”

“damn what a fucked up family” i muttered taking a sip of my drink

“right so i’m gonna head out, you two good? nobody’s gonna scream the second i leave?” they both nodded

“alright then, see both of you soon then okay?”

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” Marcel offered snd i nodded shrugging

Klaus looked at me almost hopefully before side-eyeing Marcel. I wrote down my number and handed it to Klaus ignoring my brother’s eye roll

“see you soon Klaus” i whispered and quickly kissed his cheek before going to my new home

[galaxywarp]

What I AM mad about was my meth dream last night lmfao

I’ve been having way less relapse dreams lately but that nightstand with a hidden meth stash has been hanging around instead. I dream about my childhood bedroom and a nightstand where I’m hiding my drugs

Well last night, for a split second, I had a full bag

It’s so crazy how vividly I can recall it. I remember how the crystal chunks felt pressed up against the plastic of the bag against my fingertips. It’s a feeling ingrained deeply into my body after all of those years. Crushing the pieces into powder. The tink of them hitting the glass of the pipe. The way the plastic bag felt if one of their sharp edges pierced the side.

And for a moment I was holding this bag, right? And it was stuffed full. It was like an entire 8 ball in a small plastic baggie. And it was all mine. And I was excited and ready and seeing myself already smoking the bubbler. The sound of the water. The thickness of the cloud

And then it fucking vanished

The bag was gone. And I couldn’t find it. And the rest of the dream was me obsessively tearing apart my childhood bedroom searching for it. Searching for anything

I took apart everything. Every page of the books sitting on my desk. Every drawer. Every nook and cranny.

There was nothing.

But I dreamt that I searched in vain for hours.