#but I’ve been wanting to do a rewrite for a while

[bella-rose29]

Domestic Sweetness - part 1

requested by @oblivious-idiot: HI BELLE MY BELOVED you told me to make a formal request so!! can i request a lockwood x fem!reader - domestic sweetness, cooking for each other, lockwood giving reader his jumper, that kind of thing  feel free to go as wild and fluffy as you like hehe

"Love is wont to bring many calamities upon men" is the other thing I based this on and I feel like it's very fitting indeed

I AM SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME ACTUAL MONTHS TO DO THIS BUT YOU HAD UPDATES ALONG THE WAY SO I HOPE THAT HELPED

word count: 4.6k

warnings: painfully sweet relationship depicted, lockwood actually gets injured quite a lot (sorry to my boy), swearing, I think that's it? oh wait no there's like one or two slight innuendos whoops

“Can you pass the sugar, Lockwood?”

“Sure, here.” A heavy jar was placed on the counter next to you, and you paused in your stirring to measure out the new ingredient. He was smiling widely at you, a grin that could rival the sun with how bright and happy it was, and you almost felt bad about telling him that he’d brought the salt instead of sugar. His brow furrowed, and he checked the label again. “Damn. Sorry, darling, I could have sworn I picked up the right jar. The sun must have faded the pen; I’ll rewrite it.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before going in search of a marker, turning back momentarily to pass you the actual jar of sugar. 

George, Lucy, and Holly had gone out for the day, taking advantage of one of the last few warm days of autumn before winter started setting in and filled up their schedules with clients. Lockwood and Y/n had stayed in, making the most of the fact they had the house to themselves for a few hours and could make as much mess in the kitchen as possible without being shouted at. Besides, if the others did get mad then there would at least be cake to sweeten them up a little. 

Lockwood let out a small triumphant “Ha!” from across the kitchen, telling you that he’d found a pen. There was a brief pause, the only sounds being those of the spoon in the mixing bowl bringing all the ingredients together, and then the sound of a mason jar being opened. 

“Lockwood?” He hummed in response. 

“What are you doing?” You stopped stirring to look over at your boyfriend just in time to see him eat a spoonful of whatever was in the jar he’d just opened. “Wha… what the actual fuck?” He grimaced, pulling a face and sticking his tongue out repeatedly as though it would get rid of the taste. 

“…I had to check it was definitely salt.” He looked sheepish, a faint tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood with your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows at him. 

“Of course it’s salt, dipshit. I’ve got the sugar!”

“I didn’t want to get it wrong!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to see what a spoonful of salt tasted like?” He didn’t say anything, instead starting to write ‘salt’ on the label with far too much concentration. You sighed, turning back to the bowl. “Idiot,” you muttered, but there was a smile on your face regardless. 

~~~

Lockwood could still taste the salt. 

He’d washed his mouth out with roughly four cups of tea and six pints of water, but the tang of the teaspoon of salt he’d eaten earlier was still there. He couldn’t even complain about it either, because Y/n just laughed at him and said he had to live with the consequences of his actions. 

At least he now knew what a spoonful of salt tasted like. 

He heard you struggle a little from his place at the sink (he’d been put on washing up duty), and looked to his left to see you attempting to reach something on the top shelf. Drying his hands on the tea towel he slung it over his shoulder and stepped over, coming up behind to help. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, while the other reached up and took the second mixing bowl out of the cupboard. “Here you are, darling,” he whispered, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking directly into your ear, tightening his hold around your waist for a brief moment and delighting in both the involuntary shiver and small sound that left your mouth. He kissed your temple and let go, placing the mixing bowl on the counter and moving away to finish washing up. 

“You,” his girlfriend started, clutching the sideboard, “are evil, Anthony Lockwood. Pure evil.”

He just laughed in reply, and yelped when you dipped your hand in the sink and threw soapy water in his face. 

~~~

The cake had been sat on the side for a while now, sponges cooling down so that the icing that the two of you were currently making wouldn’t melt and slide right off. 

“That’s way too much icing, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll eat any leftovers.”

“Lockwood, you can’t just put everything in your mouth.”

“Icing won’t kill me, Y/n.”

You sighed, fighting back the smile that threatened to break through. “Still. You’ll probably be sick if you eat that much.” Lockwood didn’t bother hiding his grin, dipping a finger into the bowl to scoop some icing up. He laughed when you smacked his chest, smile never disappearing even when he nearly fell backwards off his chair. “Does it taste alright?”

“Yep. Tastes perfect. I could totally eat that whole bowl and not get sick.”

“Well,” you replied, standing up from the kitchen table and heading for the sponges. “You’re not going to find out if you can. The cake’s cool enough now. Here, take the spatula. You can lick it when we’re done. When we’re done, Anthony. Not now.” Lockwood pouted with the implement halfway to his mouth, sticking his bottom lip out so far it looked ridiculous, and you snorted and gave him a peck on the cheek. “C’mon, the cake won’t ice itself.”

A short while later the majority of the icing had been used, spread as neatly as possible over the cake that had now been assembled. “It looks pretty good!” Lockwood said, standing back to admire it. 

“I just hope it tastes as good.”

“Of course it will. You always doubt yourself and then make the most incredible things I’ve ever eaten, so I don’t know why you’re always so unsure.” He’d said it so casually, inspecting the spatula in his hand and leaning back against the counter, and he was talking about cake, but it meant a lot. He wasn’t wrong, and the fact that he’d said that as nonchalantly as he had made your heart clench in your chest. Looking at Lockwood now, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window and casting him in a soft golden glow, you found yourself wondering how the hell you’d managed to end up with someone as wonderful as him. 

Then he practically deep-throated the spatula, and the illusion of Anthony Lockwood as some magnificent and incredible person was partially shattered. 

“Anthony, what the-” you cut yourself off, staring in shock at your boyfriend as he took the nearly-clean spatula out his mouth and stared back, the picture of innocence. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad, not when he was looking at you with those wide brown eyes and titling his head a little in a silent question. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” 

“You- you just shoved the whole thing in your mouth!”

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t seem concerned about the fact he could have choked, instead resorting to licking the spatula like an ice cream to get the last of the icing off. For a moment, memories of his tongue doing a similar thing but in a very different context flooded your brain, not helped at all by the soft moan he let out at the taste of the icing. 

“Just, uh… you could have- you…” He had that innocent look on his face again, and it was difficult to remember what you’d been saying. “Don’t worry about it,” you muttered, gaze fixed on the spatula. Lockwood noticed, of course, and immediately a smug look took over his features. He exaggerated his movements, and the spell was broken. It definitely helped take your mind off of… other things, especially when he accidentally smacked himself in the face with the spatula. 

“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his cheek and frowning at the implement. 

“It’s your fault, you know. I have no sympathy for you.”

“Rude.” There was no malice in his response, and the glare he gave you was teasing. 

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the icing? There’s too much to put on the cake, but not enough to put on something else. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“Eat it?”

“You want to eat everything, Anthony.” He walked over to the sink, dropping the spatula in the water and cleaning it before moving to the kitchen table where the bowl of icing sat. “What are you doing now?”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you closer with his left hand. His right was dipping into the icing bowl again, but before you could chastise him for it he was gently taking hold of your waist and pulling you in to his side, lifting his right hand to your mouth. “Open up.”

“Wha- just eat it off your hand? When did you last wash them?”

“You literally watched me wash them about a minute ago, I’m not sure why you’re concerned about that. We’ve got to eat the icing up, so if you won’t eat it then I will.”

“Fine. Go on then,” you said, sighing and opening your mouth. He paused for a moment, hand a few inches away from your face, and for a split-second you thought you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. You should have realised that he would take advantage of the situation when his grip on your waist tightened, pinning you to his side so that he could wipe the icing on your cheek instead. A disbelieving scoff left your mouth, eyes widening as you took in the grin he was giving you. “Really? I thought you wanted to eat it?” 

He shrugged. “I can lick it off afterwards.” Under the icing your cheeks burned. Recovering quickly you reached into the bowl yourself, grabbing the back of his top to stop him lurching away when he realised that he was under attack.

“Not a fucking chance you’re getting away with this,” you muttered, spreading the icing over his chin (he’d jerked his head back at the last second, and given the awkward angle it was the only part of his face you could reach). Now it was his turn to huff in incredulity, and there was a brief pause where the two of you stood - still grasping each other to prevent any escapes - and looked at each other. 

Then something clicked, and at the same time you both made a mad scrabble for the icing bowl, hands dipping in to collect ammunition before attempting to smear the topping all over each other. 

When Lucy, George, and Holly came home roughly half an hour later desperate for a cup of tea and a quiet evening in, they found you and Lockwood lying on the kitchen floor, icing spread around most of the room and baking trays used as what looked like makeshift shields, wide smiles on both of your faces. 

George nearly had an aneurysm at the state of the kitchen, but after he made the pair of you swear to clean it before you went to bed and left the room in a huff he couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face. 

~~~

“Did we run out of teabags again?” Lucy called from the kitchen. It was incredible how far her voice could carry, really, since you and Lockwood were in his room a floor up with the door closed and music playing, and yet could still hear her. George yelled back something about how he’d meant to go the other day but forgot, and he couldn’t right now because he was doing yoga. Holly had already gone home, and when Lucy appeared at Lockwood’s bedroom door a few minutes later you sighed. 

“Why do we have to go? We just got comfy in bed,” Lockwood said, even though he was the only one currently under the covers and was still in his day clothes. You had been changing the music over, having grown bored of the previous record. 

“Because I need to wash my hair? And George is probably butt-naked so he can’t go. You two are already dressed anyway, so why does it matter?”

“She’s got a point, Lockwood,” you started. “It’ll be fun! Besides, we’ll have some time for just the two of us, and-” You didn’t even get to finish before he was launching himself out of bed, grabbing your wrist, and hurling the both of you down the stairs, already reaching for his coat and shoes. 

“See you later!” Lucy called, heading up to the attic. “Oh, and we need bread too!”

“Got it!” you yelled back, stifling your laughter at how frantically Lockwood was moving. “Why’re you going so fast? No, slow- slow down!” He had pulled your own coat off the rack and started putting your arms through the sleeves, and was now wrapping his yellow and brown patchwork scarf around his neck. 

“What? Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you? Alone?” He waggled his eyebrows around at the last word, leaning in close and aiming for a kiss, lips pursed comically as he shut his eyes. You pushed his face away, snorting at his theatrics, and put your own scarf around your neck before heading for the front door. Stuffing a bag in his coat pocket (you would never understand how he could fit so many things in them, they were stupidly deep) he followed after you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were walking down the road hand in hand (or rather, hand in arm; your palms always got uncomfortably sweaty whenever you held hands for too long, and Lockwood had long since learned that letting you nestle your hand in the crook of his elbow was much better for both of you). 

“Teabags and bread, right?” you asked, double checking with Lockwood that you hadn’t got it wrong in the five minutes since you’d left the house. Lockwood hummed in response, a soft smile decorating his face. He turned his head to look down at you, and while his smile was still small you could see the happiness in his eyes. It was strange: before meeting him you hadn’t ever thought that someone could look at you like that, but here was Anthony Lockwood, gazing at you like there was nothing else in the world - in the universe - that mattered more than you. 

Maybe he should have considered that other things did matter, because barely two seconds later he walked face first into a lamppost. 

You desperately wanted to comfort him and check that he was alright but instead laughter burst its way up and out, making you double over and wheeze. 

“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed, clutching his nose, but there was a badly concealed grin under his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, except you were still laughing and probably looked everything but sorry. “You just- you just walked straight into it!”

“Funnily enough,” he started, wincing as he prodded his nose with his index finger, “I was aware of the fact I walked into a lamppost. Not sure what it was that made me aware of it; maybe the way my entire face hurts has something to do with it?” Your laughter had died down now, one or two small giggles still breaking through, and you moved closer to inspect his face yourself. Knocking his hands away, you brought your own up, feeling along the skin to check for… well you weren’t really sure what you were checking for, but his nose didn’t seem broken, and he didn’t have any cuts or bleeding. He might end up with a bruise or two, but he’d wear them just as proudly as the slight blue tinge on his hand from years ago or the very large eye bags he couldn’t seem to get rid of. 

“Sorry,” you said again, meaning it a little more this time. You paused for a moment, a slightly guilty look appearing on your face. “I really wish I had had my camera with me to catch that though, is that bad?” He stared at you in open-mouthed shock, but the amusement glistening in his eyes told you it was just pretend. 

“How… dare you!” He lunged, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch you, but you spun away just in time, laughing loudly and jogging away down the pavement. Lockwood rushed after you, and his long spindly legs made the distance you had created seem like nothing. He wrapped his arms around your midriff from behind, pulling you back against him and lifting you up in the air all in one go. He spun the both of you around, unable to stop his own laughter as you kicked and squeezed your eyes tightly shut, and after what felt like far too long (but in reality was probably no more than five seconds) he put you down again, twisting you around by his grip on your waist so that you were facing each other. “So rude,” he muttered, grinning while he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “So rude.” Lockwood pulled back, releasing your waist and moving to the outside of the pavement while dramatically doing a little bow and offering up his arm. 

“Are you sure your face is alright?”

“I’m sure. A bit sore, but I’ve had worse. A cup of tea when we get back will help, I think.” He was still bent a little in the middle so you took his arm and let him stand up straight and lead you down the road again. 

~~~

“Is that all we needed?” you asked, walking back over to where Lockwood stood with the shopping basket. “It doesn’t seem like a lot given we came to the big shop.” Lockwood looked a little sheepish for barely a second, quickly schooling his expression back into one that looked more like ‘I’m so happy to be out with my girlfriend’, but you caught it regardless. Narrowing your eyes, you spoke again. “We didn’t need to come here, did we.” It wasn’t a question, and Lockwood shrunk back a little. “We could have gone to Arif’s; you saying he was shut was a lie!”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all.” How could you stay mad at him when he was looking at you like that? Those brown eyes would be the death of you, you were sure of it. 

“Fine,” you replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re buying biscuits.”

“Happy to, since it means we get longer together before you have to go home.” The pair of you started walking again, heading for the biscuit isle, when Lockwood stopped abruptly in the middle of the store. “Did you need anything? You know…” he waved the hand that wasn’t holding the basket in the vague direction of your body. “I seem to remember you saying you were running out of something? Pads, maybe? Or was it the liner thingies? Oh! And painkillers, we need more of those. George used the last for a headache he had the other week and I forgot to restock.”

“How… you remember me saying that?” He started dragging you away from the biscuit isle and instead towards the toiletries isle, seemingly nonplussed about the fact he’d remembered one off-hand comment you had made ages ago. 

“Of course I do. I keep a little list in a notebook so I don’t forget anything. Ah, here we are.” He stopped walking to frown at the display of products before the two of you. “Actually… I have no idea what I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s alright,” you responded, reaching out for the things you needed. “I would have completely forgotten if you hadn’t reminded me, and that would have been a disaster.” As soon as you were done, basket just that little bit heavier, you both turned and left for the biscuits for the second time. 

“You pick,” Lockwood said as you neared. “I picked the biscuits last time and the others aren’t here, so tough luck for them.”

Despite you all calling it the Big Shop it was only a small amount larger than Arif’s, and as such the aisles weren’t all that much taller - you could often find Lockwood’s head floating above the shelves which made it easy to not get lost - but it did mean that if anybody was below the height of the aisles, they were practically invisible. Unfortunately someone had been just around the corner of the biscuit aisle, hidden behind a board advertising a brand, and you didn’t have time to correct your course. 

“Oof! Watch it!” 

At first you thought you’d bumped into a small child, possibly around six or seven years in age but just above the average height, and that he was in need of a personality check for the attitude he’d just given you. Then when you blinked and the child stood up after being sent flying across the floor, you realised that you were in fact looking at Bobby Vernon instead. 

“Sorry, Bobby,” Lockwood said, trying not to smile while the other agent brushed himself off. “Didn’t see you behind the display.”

“Lockwood, that display is the size of a large rat at most,” Bobby scowled, inspecting a non-existent rip in his Fittes uniform. You had only met Bobby Vernon once before (a few months ago, and he hadn’t said a word), and you were surprised that he apparently hadn’t gone through puberty yet. There was the odd crack in his words when he spoke, but otherwise his voice sounded like what could only be described as a mouse’s feet gently pattering over a tin roof, or perhaps something akin to a child talking to you in high tones very far away. 

“I’m aware of that,” replied Lockwood, having given up on hiding his grin by now. “What are you doing here?”

“I was getting supplies for a case that we have tonight. Not sure if you remember what those are, Lockwood, but we’re fully booked for the foreseeable future.” He puffed his chest out, giving the impression of a fairy trying to make itself look bigger than it was, or a small pufferfish going up against a whale. His tone had gone all smug and holier-than-thou, and you didn’t much like it. 

“Actually,” Lockwood started, with a look that told you he was about to start lying, “we’re doing quite well ourselves.” There it was. You’d spoken to Holly earlier that day, and the biggest job that Lockwood and Co had for the next week or so was hanging up lavender in a hotel a couple of streets away. Bobby raised an eyebrow (or tried to; it looked a lot more like he’d been told that someone had just adopted a pair of gerbils for him and named them Harold and Nancy or something ridiculous like that) and scoffed. Lockwood didn’t falter though, his smile staying plastered on his face and his posture confident (seriously, the boy had to have had dancing lessons with a back that straight), and after a few moments Bobby gave up scrutinising him. 

“Well I’d best be getting on,” the Fittes agent said, straightening his jacket and sniffing. “Busy life and all that. I hope you fall in a river, Lockwood. Or set another building on fire so that they can finally take you out of the game.” You huffed an incredulous laugh, not believing how someone who looked so small and mouse-like could say something like that. Before either you or Lockwood could respond Bobby Vernon had walked off, his rapier dragging against the floor a little and nearly tripping him with how long it was compared to his body. 

“He was nice,” you mused, turning to grab some biscuits. Jammy dodgers were the first to go in the basket, since George always ate the lot of them and rarely bothered with any others. 

“Bobby’s always a joy to be around,” Lockwood replied, reaching his hand out for yours. You shook your head and put a packet of bourbons in the basket instead, already going for some chocolate covered hobnobs and digestives. Lockwood had started grabbing at yours, so you cast one last look at the basket and the shelves before indulging him. “Is that everything do you think?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, keeping his lips there while he waited for you to respond. 

“Yeah, I think so. We can always pop out again tomorrow if we missed anything.”

Just under ten minutes later the pair of you were out of the shop, Lockwood carrying the bags in one arm and your hand resting in the crook of his other. It was darker now than when you’d left the house, the evening properly drawing in and clouds darkening the sky, but with Lockwood by your side the world could never be anything but bright. The wind picked up, ruffling his hair (that somehow managed to still look great while you looked like you’d been dragged backwards through a hedge) and threatening to pull his scarf away. You reached out to grab it before the end could break free, effectively making the both of you grind to a halt. “Thanks,” he grinned, probably completely unaware of how he made you feel. A sudden urge to kiss him like those scenes in the movies overtook you, and you took your other hand out of the crook of his elbow to grab a hold of the other end of his scarf. Tugging harshly on the fabric, you yanked Lockwood down to press your lips to his, closing your eyes right before contact. 

Contact never came. 

Not for you, anyway. Lockwood did make contact, but with the floor instead of your lips, and there was a painful sounding thud when he landed. “Oops…” you murmured, hands now held up by your face instead of holding Lockwood’s scarf. 

There was a moment of silence where Lockwood was just lying on the pavement, face down while splayed out like one of those white chalk body outlines in crime reports, and then you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore. 

It bubbled up, and at the small groan that escaped your boyfriend you tried to stop, pressing your hand over your mouth in an attempt to prevent any more laughter. You were unsuccessful, instead laughing even harder when he lifted his head to show the red print of concrete on his cheek and scowled up at you. Luckily the shopping had stayed in the bags, so when Lockwood pushed himself up off the floor and brushed the stray bits of pavement off of him, all he had to do was pick up the bag. He gently touched a couple of fingers of his free hand to his nose, testing for any injuries, then nodded when he felt satisfied that there wasn’t anything too worrying. He caught you hiding your grin and gave you one of his own before opening his mouth. 

“Kiss my nose better?” 

You snorted, stepping closer to Lockwood but not yet obliging. You checked for any damage to his nose yourself, not trusting him to have done a good enough job. “What makes you think I will?”

“Well I think I deserve some sort of compensation for my injuries,” he replied, using his spare hand to pull you into his chest by your waist. 

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” he said, voice growing quieter as he leaned in. His nose brushed against yours, warm breath on your face a pleasant contrast to the chill in the air. The wind was still pulling at your hair and clothes, rustling the plastic shopping bags in Lockwood’s hand and making your cheeks sting at the cold. 

“Alright then, if that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“It is,” Lockwood muttered, but the end of his sentence was lost in your lips. 

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire, @isimpfor-everyone, @furblrwurblr

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and of COURSE @oblivious-idiot for the request

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

[numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit]

Met Melchor, Allura’s older brother for a voltron rewrite I’m probably doing! He’s very dear to me, and I have so many plans for him.

[scionshtola]

thinking about cori and shtola making the transition from friends to romantic partners and i don’t think there was any nervousness there at all like once they kissed it was just so natural and they knew they were in it for good…and this is why they say i love you day 3 of the relationship

[waywardstation]

May I share a small idea?

You could use the poll as some sort of list for some future WIP Wednesdays. The most popular choice is first and then the next in line comes on the next Wednesday when you got the time and so on.

It could save you plenty of time to prepare something and may lessen the pressure a little!

Obviously it’s up to you but I’m leaving the suggestion here for you to think about.

Hope you’re having a good time and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself~!

Oh this is a fantastic idea!! I think I will do this!! (Though I am hoping at least three of the options on there will be going up within the next several weeks, all of them are so so close to completion!!)

I will do this though!! Thank you very much for the suggestion friend, it’s a great idea!!

[cherrysnax]

I’m gonna call and fill out a thing for my meds because golly this is ruining my life

[kalinysu]

💮 Hello, I was wondering if you could do a muzan × reader where they're married, so he's the demon king and she's the queen, and they have been together way before he was a demon, so he turned her. She's also pregnant, and he won't allow her to go on missions anymore. I would like to know if he would keep her by his side or would he lock her in her room. She can also walk in the sun. Please take your time. 💮

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏. — Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gentle Muzan with slightly harsh words, stubborn reader.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Very cute request! I’ve never written for Muzan and a pregnant wife, so it should be fun. Might rewrite, this was a little lazy 😭

“Darling, please lay down.” Muzan said with a sigh. You two had been going back and forth all night, and you were keeping him quite busy, busy enough to the point he had to ignore his other tasks and focus on you in the moment. “Stop!! Don’t you have any missions for me to do?— I mean, I can’t just lay here for 8 months straight.” You said, trying to sit up and get out of bed.

Muzan kept you away from the other demons, well more specifically Douma. He was far too handsy with you even if you were of a higher status and deserved just as much respect as Muzan. He preferred keeping you locked inside of his room when he couldn’t have you near him, such as when he worked on experiments or had meetings with the ranks. You were too distracting and required every of his attention, which he was willing to give when you two were alone and he wasn’t busy.

“Woman. Lay down, now.” Muzan said, furrowing his brow a bit. His hands were placed on your shoulders, occasionally switching to your waist, trying to be as gentle as possible with you even if his words weren’t. He let out a exhausted sigh, getting into bed with you. He then wrapped his arms around you, holding you just firm enough so you couldn’t get up from the bed. “Missions—“ You said, still trying to free yourself from his grasps. “Darling, I’ve made it clear that i’m not letting you go on any missions while your pregnant, go to sleep.” He said. He was right, besides, you hadn’t slept in days, but you wanted to do something, anything but be in this room.

“Let go—stop it! Stop!”

Muzan eventually had to lock you up inside of your room, not allowing you out at all. He had practically began to neglect you after the first few days of staying by your side. He did bring you human flesh to eat sometimes, and spend short amounts of time with you before going back to his work. If you got into too much trouble while on your own, he’d have Kokushibo or Akaza watch you. And they watched you like a hawk. They treated you as if you were a human, and any minor injury would be treated majorly.

Muzan wanted to be near you, but he just had too much to do. Today though,Muzan had come to check on you while you were asleep. But when you heard the door open, you forced yourself awake. You felt Muzan pull the blankets over your body completely, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Muzan..?” You mumbled, turning over to look up at him. He gave you a small smile, before getting into bed beside you. “Upper 1 told me you were crying today. What’s wrong?” He asked, and you could barely believe it. You were about to slap him, but he had caught your wrist. He was just about to lecture and scold you, but you had burst out into tears before he could.

He didn’t know that this was also just your hormones affecting your mood, and thought you were just sad. “Darling, come here.” He said, sitting the both of you up and pulling you closer, allowing you to cry into his chest. “Y-you barely ever stay with me anymore!!” You sobbed, gripping his shirt. “My love, you know I have things to do..” He said, gently stroking your head. He was being honest, but there was another reason. He wasn’t sure how to take care of someone he actually cared for who was pregnant, so he resorted to locking you away to keep you safe and away from others.

“My apologies. I’ll take you with me from now on, how’s that sound, hm?” He asked with a smile when you finally calmed down a bit, tilting your head up to look at him. You sniffled, before nodding, wiping away your tears.

[im-sleepdeprived]

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again. 

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him.  The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away. 

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion. 

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged. 

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad. 

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch. 

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it. 

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved. 

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.” 

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place. 

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her. 

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight. 

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already. 

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything. 

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book. 

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving. 

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. 

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you. 

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together. 

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more. 

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter. 

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten. 

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge. 

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly. 

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe. 

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response. 

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird. 

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail. 

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay.  He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start. 

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that. 

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away. 

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay. 

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. 

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again. 

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault. 

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated. 

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you. 

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe. 

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit. 

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home. 

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away. 

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer. 

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead. 

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face. 

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!” 

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again. 

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him. 

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging. 

[physalian]

What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

[6gumi]

no second thoughts.

synopsis ﹒if your big brother doesn’t care enough about you . . then why not bang his friend to make him care ! ?

pairings ﹒ step brother!alhaitham x fem!reader x big brother’s best friend!kaveh (modern au me thinks)

cw ﹒suggestive (a little long n rushed). TW: stepcest ! read at your own risk. not proofread (so sorry if it doesn’t make sense on some parts oopsies) this is all consensual. meanie ! al haitham aaa, t!tplay, use of petnames (princess, baby, etc) al haitham is a meanie lowk, al haitham is a lil rough w u :((, a lil degrading, dirty talk !

note ﹒aaa aaa AAAA thinkin’ sm.. thinkin’ sm.. the demons won me over once again fellas . . i’ve lost another battle sighsssss . . i had 2 rewrite sm times cuz i didn’t like how it went n all that aaa ALSO ! i made the texts smaller cuz this is soooo long 🥹 + i’m lowk proud of how this one turned out so reblogs appreciated ! requests are still closed so i will only accept thirsts if u wanna send in some, or u can just interact w me ! — millie ♡

you’ve tried all methods to get al haitham to notice you at-least . . why didn’t any of those methods work anyways ?! you both agreed to have this . . secret relationship with each other, and do very “secret” things no one could no about, at least that’s what he said. you knew it was wrong, he might’ve too.. but you both really couldn’t control your undying lust for each other like this, especially if you both lived in the same house and saw each other everyday. this was wrong, it was . . but you two weren’t blood related so it’s fine, he says. but still, it still felt wrong whenever al haitham was bullying his huge cock into your cunt, whispering that you could take him just fine. in other words, your relationship with al haitham is a hassle to understand and comprehend. it felt wrong but . . you both never delved into it too much. he was being so nice and sweet to you a few weeks ago, what happened to that? why was he suddenly being so cold?

you didn’t understand it at all, you just wanted to be close with him. could he . . . have been all nice with you just to make you dependent on him? you didn’t know.

poor poor you . . you need his attention nearly half of the time! you craved it even! you began to debate about what he said, sure yeah . . you were his precious little sister and he wouldn’t dare let anyone else touch you. you can’t help it, you just need his attention . . but how come he’s always treating you this way? why was he treating you like someone lower than he is? it’s not fair.. it wasn’t fair. you tried your hardest to get his attention these past few days and weeks, walking around the house with only his shirt clinging onto your figure with none of your undergarments present.. your nipples poking out of your shirt while you hummed and walked around, bare underneath for al haitham to see. you only wanted him to notice you, you wanted him to give you the attention you needed. you’d even let him fuck you raw on the kitchen counter if that’s what he wanted! but yet, none of those methods have worked on him . . .

you were in your room, sobbing against the softness of your pillow as your lips were formed in a small pout . . you hated being ignored, especially if it’s by al haitham. you laid there with cheek pressed up against the pillow, one leg over your blanket. the only thing that could be heard from your room are faint sobs and cries, tears pouring down your cheeks.

then, you heard your door creak open.

glancing over your shoulder, your eyes widened before sitting up properly, wiping your sweet tears off your face. “al haitham!” you spoke, grinning as he made his way over to you. “what’s up with you?” he says, his voice was nonchalant as always. “i could hear you all the way from my room.” you could feel your smile fading from his coldness towards you. ah, he’s still the same. you wiped your tears before crawling closer to him, clinging onto his arm as you rested on his bicep. ‘i just want your attention’ is what you wanted to say, but no.. you couldn’t. you would never admit that to him no matter how much you wanted to. you tugged on his arm with a little hum, looking up at him. “i . . it’s nothing, really. i’m alright.”

he hummed, glancing down at you before cocking a brow . . his expression still blank as he opened his mouth to speak, words that you never expected to hear. but wanted to. “wanna fuck?”

you sniffled, wiping your tears one last time before you stared at him, blinking at his words. “. . huh?”

“i said, wanna fuck?” he spoke again. “maybe that’ll make you feel better, yeah? c’mere baby.”

—

and there you were, face planted down against the pillow you were crying on earlier before . . loud sounds of skin slapping against each other was one of the only things you could hear, his balls slapped against your ass as his large hands had such a death grip on your hips, he was rough . . you had to admit. but yet, you kept thinking to yourself . . you wanted comfort, you needed al haitham’s comfort. you didn’t need this but you accepted anyway. choked moans were left muffled as your head was further pushed down against the bed, al haitham’s thrusts grew more rougher and deeper as the minutes passed . . it was clear to you that he had no intention of comforting you at all. no . . he was only using you for pleasure at this rate. “mmh . . you like this, huh? you like when your brother fucks you hard to relieve your stress, isn’t that right?” he whispered in your ear, inhaling the scent of your hair as his other hand reached down to rub your clit in a circular motion, licking his lips as he down on the blade of your shoulder. “fuck . . you’re such a sweet girl, are you? taking your brother’s cock like it’s nothing. taking it like the good slut you are.” he flipped your body over to face him, grabbing your knees as he forcefully pressed them down against your chest, squishing your breasts as your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, tongue lolling out in pleasure while his thrusts quickened, you were sure he was gonna break you at this rate. “naughty girl . . look at you, letting your brother fuck you as he pleases.”

this new position allowed al haitham to access more of your deepest areas, areas you never knew could even be explored by his cock! you whined as you felt his hands on your cheeks, pressing them together. “tell me, why were you crying earlier?” he brought his hand down from your face, pressing them down against the bulge on your stomach as he could feel himself going in and out of your slick pussy. “i-i just..” you whimpered, trying to ignore how good his cock felt pounding into you like that. swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally spoke up once again. “you.. ah— you’re being so cold to me lately, al haitham . . it’s making mmh! me think otherwise of our relationship, i don’t wanna . . keep going on like this with you if you’re hah!— gonna treat me like i’m nothing to you” you admit. you were half expecting him to kiss you and pamper you all over, but that all changed when you could feel his thrusts quickie even more. god.. you had to admit, his stamina was insane. “so you want me to act differently towards you? is that what you’re implying?”

“mmn.. if it means you stop being so cold to me, then yes . . that’s exactly what i’m asking fo— ah!” he pinched your nipples, shutting you up completely . . all that left his mouth were low chuckles. “i’m not being cold to you, i’m just acting like my usual self. if you expected me to kiss you, spoil you and pamper you whenever and wherever you please, you’re simply mistaken.” he gave your ass a light slap at that, before you cut him off. “but— hah! it’s not fair, al haitham . . why are you treating me like i’m nothing? i don’t get how you can just— hng . . fuck me and act like you don’t know me the day afterwards!” you could feel the tension in the air, and in his thrusts as he flipped you over again, immediately shoving his cock back in your pussy with a loud slap. “and i don’t get how you can’t shut the fuck up.” he grabbed a fistful of your hair, threading his fingers through your locks as he pulled you towards his chest as his cock proceeded to ram itself into you roughly, sweat trailing down your body while putting a hand over your mouth. “maybe i could shut you up if i breed this little pussy to the brim, huh? do you want me to do that? fill you up with my cum?” your eyes widened, as much as you loved your brother . . you didn’t want him doing anything as far as breeding you and filling you up, let alone . . getting you pregnant. “do i have to fuck my cum into you to get you to shut up? make you stop questioning my methods of caring for you?” he didn’t care about you like you cared about him. you knew that. so why was he even . .

his thrusts were starting to be more rougher and harsh now, but not enough to hurt you. “don’t you love your big brother, [name]? you love him right? why are you questioning his way of showing he cares for you, huh?” he whispered in your ear. your back arched at his words, you could almost feel just how tight your cunt was sucking him in at this rate. “you don’t want me to leave you don’t you? leave you in the streets with nothing but a pretty pussy for anyone to fuck, you don’t want anyone else’s dick in this slutty cunt now, do you?”

that’s the thing. you didn’t want him to leave you.

you shook your head furiously at the thought of him coming inside of you and leaving you in the streets for another person to take, you tried to tell him you didn’t want that but his hand only tightened around your mouth. “good, then don’t bother questioning about any of my acts of care for you. you know i love you, so just be a good girl and take my cock whenever and wherever i want, yeah? be a good little slut and don’t question your brother’s can you do that for me?” he was only saying that to put you over the edge and cling onto him more . . but did you realize that? not really. you sobbed as you nodded, trying to endure the soreness of your back and lower half when he released your hair, pulling out of your drenched pussy as he came all over your ass, stroking cock at an awfully fast pace . . your face scrunched as you could even feel some of his essence leaking from your ass and down to your bedsheets you cleaned earlier. “there, feel better now?” he asked. ‘no, i don’t.’ was what you wanted to say, but you held your tongue . . you were too exhausted to protest anyways.

—

your body was sore, you needed al haitham’s comfort and his attention . . but he was oblivious and never gave you what you truly wanted, you were getting tired of how his automatic response to comforting you is by fucking you into oblivion, you cursed at yourself for liking it . . you cursed yourself for even enjoying the way his cock pushes itself deep inside your velvet walls, you hated how you hated it, his methods to be exact. he was comforting you right? that’s what he told you, he was only making you feel better and this is his only way of comforting you, right? no. you knew this was another one of his tactics, and you always hated these tactics . . no matter how much you wanted to snap at him for disregarding your feelings and you as a whole, you couldn’t. he always found ways convincing you what he was doing was right when it wasn’t.

it has been awhile since that last session you both had, and yet again . . he began to ignore you once more. you knew it was coming but it infuriates you how much he doesn’t care about you as much as you care about him. so . . you tried something. when al haitham left the house one day, you managed to invite his friend, kaveh over. kaveh himself surprisingly knew of al haitham’s way of thinking since he was friends with him long before he met you, so it only made sense that he gave you advice and asked you if his behaviour improved. you were sitting on your bed, sniffling as kaveh had a hand on your shoulder. the blonde was much more nicer and gentler with you than al haitham was, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief whenever al haitham himself brought kaveh over after hanging out with him. you felt more comfortable and safe with your big brother’s best friend more than you could ever imagine. “you okay now, princess? i’m sorry he’s acting this way towards you but it’s just how he is, you can’t just magically stop someone from acting how they usually act, you get me?” his soft voice.. his reassurance. kaveh was your own personal safe haven.

as safe as you felt with kaveh, kaveh never knew or even found out about your dirty little secret and relationship you had with al haitham, not like you wanted him to know. the blonde only thought of this as friendly sibling feud, al haitham being nonchalant towards his doting little sister while you’re over here trying to get him to treat you properly as his sibling by asking his friend for some advice! oh . . he could have never been so wrong, it was more than that. but yet .. who knows if he ever found out one day? will he . . leave you? you knew it was wrong to even act like this towards your own step brother, but you two weren’t blood related so . . maybe he would be a bit weirded out but— no! you couldn’t bare to have kaveh leave you, not when he’s your only source of comfort. you wouldn’t dare to even tell him anything about you and al haitham’s dirty relationship with each other . . you wouldn’t dare.

“maybe we can try a different method . . ? i don’t know.” you mumbled, leaning closer against him. kaveh could feel himself scoot a little to give you more space and to prevent himself from getting too into your personal space. “maybe we could . . do it?” you suggested, earning a choked cough from the blonde. “i— what? are you implying what i think you are?” he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly . . but he thought about it. it’s risky, yes . . but will it really work? sure, he thought you were sweet and only viewed you as his friends little sister but. . was this really right? “yeah . . i’m suggesting that we should do it.”

“princess are you sure? you don’t have to force yourself to do it just because you want him to notice you, it’s risky . .” kaveh whispered that last line under his breath, patting your shoulder. “he’s definitely gonna kill us, angel. are you really really sure you wanna risk it just to get his dumb head going?” without warning, you caught your lips with his as you put a hand on his thigh, lifting yourself up gently as you kissed him with passion. well . . that answered his question pretty quickly. you wanted this alright, and you were showing him exactly how much you wanted it. in a blink of an eye, you were pinned down against the soft sheets of your bed, kaveh’s hands slowly trailed up your flesh. the architect gazed up at you with those pretty eyes of his, pretty eyes you wanted to be on you forever. “you’re positive right, gorgeous? you want me to touch you? no second thoughts?” “no second thoughts.”

that was kaveh’s green light.

a kind smile spread across kaveh’s face at your green light. it seemed you really were an impatient girl. "you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you gorgeous? my little naughty girl." the blonde male chuckled before he leaned and kissed your neck slowly and sensually, slipping his hands inside your shirt as he cupped your tits while pulling at your nipple, your body needed this contact . . your body needed someone to touch it and kaveh will gladly be that person to fulfill its wishes. “naughty naughty girl you are, mhm?” he coos as his lips gently traced your skin, leaving a trail of tingles on your neck. “mhm.. get on with it already kaveh, ‘want you to fuck me now.” a chuckle rumbled in his chest with satisfaction, knowing he had won. "and who am i to deny this princess’ request?" you could almost sense the lust in his voice, his tone still full of seduction almost as the hand he had on your cheek gently slid down towards your neck, slowly rubbing it as his lips moved downwards, lifting up your shirt. kaveh was skilled with his mouth, you knew that. your body jolted as you could feel his mouth attach itself onto your long neglected nipple, placing soft kisses on the spot his hand was, sending shivers down your spine. kaveh’s tongue worked wonders on your nipples, his other two fingers tugging and rubbing at the other.

your breath hitched feeling the tips of kaveh’s fingers running along your plushy thighs, lifting your skirt up all the way to your stomach, pushing your underwear aside as he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers, feeling your wetness on his fingers. “you’re awfully wet. you really do get all riled up way too quick, princess.” his eyes couldn’t help but wander seeing how hard your nipples gotten from his sucking and fondling. his mouth caged around your hardened nipple once more, forcing an angelic whine to leave your pretty lips. he loved the noises you made, especially if he was the one making you feel good. the blonde architect kept this up, suckling on your tits like there’s no tomorrow while his other hand toyed with the other breast. he hummed softly before letting his slender digits enter your pretty pussy, adding another finger almost immediately afterwards. “you want me to fuck you just as good as anyone else has, gorgeous?” he rubbed your fingers in a circular motion. he knew you were at his mercy, and he loved every second of it . . your moans, you little whines, your jolts and slight flinches to his touch, he loved them too.

although . .

i don’t think the person peeking through the gap of the door would think otherwise anyway.

[milolunde]

SO SONIC FORCES!!!

Always thought it was interesting. I don’t actually think I heard anything about the game before buying it, I just knew that it was a Sonic game. yippee!!!

Immediately after my initial whimsy wore off I started treating it like all my favorite media: a project to be rewritten to my liking. That was maybe five years ago, when I was gung-ho on the angst factor of the story above the Sonic factor.

After watching through the game’s Japanese dub and realizing the simple differences in word choice single-handedly enhanced the story, I started rewriting it AGAIN…. Here’s some of that <3

vvv

I’ve drawn Sonic after escaping Eggman “giving him hell,” and NOT after torture (I want to know the translator/script writer who thought that was a good idea, by the way), worse for wear, but excited to be free and stick it to the Freaks who thought they could kept him locked up and take over the world.

After Sonic narrowly escapes the Death Egg in the Slow-Down Shoes (you can clap) and finds Gadget (or “Buddy”) they head to the Arsenal Pyramid… after a change of shoes and a bite to eat, of course.

Sonic continues through the game in a set of spare shoes which make his in-game boost gauge deplete faster. His shoes, as well as his fatigue, keep him from winning out, leading to his partial-victory against Infinite, and landing him and Silver on the sidelines. Gadget takes on missions with other resistance members at his side while Sonic recuperates with Silver.

Tails hears the news Sonic is alive and quickly arrives to the HQ to reunite with his brother. He supplies Sonic with a pair of his iconic shoes, an extra set from the supplies he was able to grab before Eggman took over his labs. Officially recuperated enough, by his standards, Sonic and Tails are officially back in it and ready to get back to the fight.

^^^

You know… I don’t think I’ve ever shared my “rewrites” anywhere but with my friends. Sometimes it gets so complicated in my head it makes it really hard to get everything on paper. A lot of my “Forces rewrite” is handing the characters differently and how that changes the story.

In general, Forces is a… fine enough idea, but SEGA has a reputation for floundering good ideas and for forgetting you can appeal to a young audience while also allowing older kids to enjoy it without making a flat story.

Hearing the difference of “they’ve been torturing Sonic,” (ENG.) and “they’ve been giving him hell,” (JAP.) and “Tails has lost it,” (ENG.), “Tails is still missing,” (JAP.) I realized a lot of what I didn’t like- what I was rewriting- was the tone. It’s one of Force’s biggest issues: it doesn’t know what it wants to be. The Japanese dub seems to have an idea, but that can’t save it from the fact Infinite is A Big Loser and Sonic actually has no reason to be afraid of him, especially if Infinite wasn’t present during his time on the Death Egg… So I’m doing it myself

[friendshiptothemax]

 Hi all! You may have heard there might be a writer’s strike soon. The reason for this is that every three years, the Writer’s Guild (which represents basically every television and movie writer) negotiates with the studios and networks (collectively called the AMPTP) to hash out an agreement of what guidelines the AMPTP have to follow if they want to hire a Writer’s Guild writer. If they can’t make an agreement by the time the contract from three years ago expires, which is on May 1, then no one will be able to employ a Writer’s Guild writer until a new contract is reached. That’s what a strike is. I don’t know if one will happen or not. Everyone, including the writers, deeply hope we’re able to make an agreement before May 1 and everyone will keep working. That being said, our last contract expired right at the start of the pandemic and everyone involved just kind of said “hey everything is weird right now so let’s not fight” so essentially we’ve got six years’ worth of grievances to talk about -- that is why this one seems especially contentious.

So that’s the background. The WGA and the AMPTP started negotiations this week. This is expected to continue throughout April -- no one expects to know either way until the end of April. Something very important I want everyone on Tumblr to know -- while negotiations are happening, the WGA has committed to a complete media blackout. No member of WGA leadership or the negotiating committee will be speaking about how things are going to the media. This means that if you see an article talking about the WGA’s position, whoever gave them that information is not talking for us -- and, since this is a two-sided negotiation we’re talking about, are probably talking directly against us. Use critical thinking on any negotiation-related articles you read -- does what they’re saying make sense? Who benefits from saying this?

Why am I saying this now? Well, yesterday, Variety published an article claiming that the Writer’s Guild is advocating for the use of AI. The article was full of twisted facts and confused falsehoods. The article took the WGA’s position that you can’t replace credited writers with AI and touted it as “the WGA is okay with AI as long as writers are credited!” That is an extremely bad-faith twisting of our position.The WGA had to issue a clarification of our position on twitter and now I’ve seen articles taking bits of THAT out of context -- specifically a Gizmodo article that implies that the Guild wants to take advantage of AI because it can’t be copyrighted, but their proof of that is a snippet from a section saying the reason we’re CONCERNED about AI writing is that it can’t be copyrighted.

And just, like....think about this for a second. Why on Earth would the Writer’s Guild WANT to replace writers with AI? Literally the organization whose entire purpose is to protect writing as a job? There’s no organization on Earth who would be opposed to it more. Every meeting I’ve been in has been unequivocally clear. WE ARE AGAINST AI. The second tweet in the thread I linked above says it outright: “AI can’t be used as source material, to create MBA-covered writing or rewrite MBA-covered work...” 

It just seems to me like it would suck if we do head into a strike in May, and everyone is pissed off at us because they believe we are striking for something that is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what we want. 

The WGA is in a media blackout. Be very skeptical of anything you read claiming to represent our position unless it comes from an official WGA source, like the one I linked above.

[undertheorangetree]

Conquerors Reborn

Summary- Helaena has a plan to ensure her favourite lady-in-waiting remains at court.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. DUBCON due to persuasion. Female reader. Threesome. Overthinking. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Handjob. P in V sex. Loss of virginity. Targcest. Praise kink. Titty sucking.

Author’s Note- debatably the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written besties and it’s suffered a handful of rewrites. Link to the full story belowwww

dividers by firefly-graphics

"I know something you don't know," a familiar voice sings.

She looks up from her needlepoint just as Helaena collapses beside her, her skirts spreading out like a large pink puddle in the grass. She adjusts her own to make room for her, waits as Helaena shuffles closer and rests a hand on her leg in greeting while she sets her needlework aside.

"I imagine you know many things I do not."

Immediately, Helaena shakes her head. "Not about court. I know something you do not about court."

She smiles at the excitement in the princess's voice. "Will you tell me then?"

"Mother has decided it is time for Aemond to marry. They're going to start searching for a wife immediately."

She feels herself tilt her head, brows drawn. That is not the news she had been expecting Helaena to relay, especially when it has not been so long since she and Aegon had been wed. That had been a grand affair- though smaller than Princess Rhaenyra's wedding had been to the late Prince Laenor, she heard- and she had overheard the maester of coin complaining of the expense during the festivities. She had not thought another royal wedding to be on the horizon for quite some time.

Despite the shock, she tries not to let it show lest she ruin Helaena's good mood. "Are they? I imagine you'll be receiving a rather large influx of invitations in the coming days then. That and plenty of new friends vying for your attention."

It is common knowledge that the prince favours his sister over his brother. Should someone wish to earn the prince's favour, it would be easily won by spending time with the princess, showing interest in the things she enjoys and having her present the idea of a betrothal to the prince. He would be hard pressed to deny her when he so enjoys making her happy, something she has been witness to more than once.

What is not so well known is the intimate relationship Helaena shares with him, of the fact that she lays with him as often as she does her. Aegon has always taken to warming the bed of every servant, whore, and noble lady who would have him and it had been agreed early into their betrothal that Helaena could bed whomever she wanted so long as it didn't threaten the legitimacy of any children. Becoming Helaena's lover had been an easy choice for her but she had never asked for details concerning her nights with Aemond.

Helaena purses her lips, reaching up to take her hand. "I do not want new friends. I have you, that is all I need."

They are much more than simply friends but she does not bother to contradict her. If she looks closely enough, she can still see the edge of the bruise her mouth left behind on Helaena's breast, just peeking over the edge of her bodice. The sight of it brings a small grin to her face and she squeezes Helaena’s hand comfortingly.

"You are all I ever needed."

Read the rest here

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you

[nomazee]

open up

sebastian (sdv) x reader

word count: 3.5k

content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word

notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here,   and part two here! 

oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah) 

<><><><><>

Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything. 

It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test. 

So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you. 

In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm… 

So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have? 

You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.

While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem. 

It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt. 

This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers. 

Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh. 

Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator. 

A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were. 

…

Okay, well. You lied to yourself. 

It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle. 

Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating. 

“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead. 

You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often. 

“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate. 

Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.

“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation. 

“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed. 

There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this. 

A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf. 

“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well. 

The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again. 

“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.” 

Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness. 

“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck. 

“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”

He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit. 

“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times. 

“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!” 

“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip. 

You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out. 

“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself. 

“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you. 

The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.” 

“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?” 

Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though. 

“Hussy.” 

“What?” 

“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”

This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers. 

He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?! 

“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”

There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them. 

“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.

Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight. 

“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times. 

Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective. 

It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.) 

“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!” 

It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too. 

“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”

Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean. 

“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare. 

Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means. 

“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square. 

He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips. 

“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.” 

You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. “Dinner plans.” 

You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that. 

And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways. 

You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language. 

And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really. 

You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course. 

[wint3r-h3art]

Ride the Lightning | Thor x Reader

Summary: They say lightning never strike twice. Thor begs to differ.

Word count: 3.4K

Warnings: pure brain rotting smut with a little plot, size kink, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, couch sex, male ejaculation, creampied, shower sex. Mutual pinning if you squint. a bit shy/awkward reader (because w’re all a bit awkward talking to our crushes 🥲) 

MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY

A/N: y’all know I’ve been wanting to read some filthy ass size kink fic. Well, if you want something bad enough, you gotta write it yourself. Here it is in its pure filth. No beta, so I’m sorry!! Feedback & reblog just mean a lot and greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this.

*** do not copy, repost, rewrite, or translate my works !!

You could feel him eyeing you across the room.

Another sip from your wine glass and you turn and pretend to listen to Sam and Bucky because God helped you, you can’t meet his eyes at all. You could feel the heat slowly blooming at your cheeks while your heart was practically hammering against your chest.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Sam asked you when he noticed that you were acting awfully suspicious.

“Please, don’t mind me. Just enjoying my wine. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.” you flashed him a sheepish smile. 

Bucky tapped his shoulder and Sam turned in the direction and nodded in understanding. It was a known fact that you have had a crush on Thor for a while now, and almost everyone knows about it, well except that you didn’t know that everyone knew about it. 

“Aren’t you driving tonight? Perhaps you should slow down,” Sam said as he carefully took your glass from your hand. “Chugging that in one go won’t do you any good.”

“Please, Sam. I’m a big girl. I can just walk back to my apartment.”

“First of all, you are tiny! Second, not a chance.”

“I can drive her back,” Scott came out of nowhere and plopped himself back next to Bucky. The other man grimaced, clearly annoyed that he didn’t understand what Sam was trying to do here. 

“No,” Sam and Bucky said in unison, which Scott was taken aback by. 

“Well, geez guys. Thanks.”

“What they meant to say is that Thor should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Bruce stepped in. 

“Why Thor and not me?” Scott was clearly offended, and it was so obvious that he was unaware of the situation as well. “What is so special about Thor?”

“What about me?” came Thor's deep baritone voice, standing there and towering practically over everyone.

“You should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Sam said as a matter of factly.

“Agree,” Bucky concurred.

“Wait? Why him?” Scott asked, and Clint had to cover Scott's mouth with his hand before he leaned in and whispered something in his ears. Sam, Bucky, and Bruce all watched Scott’s face slowly morph into a knowing look. “Right. Ok, yeah, Thor! Be a gent and walk her home!”

“Ok,” he said suspiciously before downing the last of his drink, which barely gave him any buzz. “My lady?” He offered you a hand and you stared momentarily before you took it. All the guys were watching you with a knowing smile before you waved goodbye.

The walk was awkward to the point where you were no longer buzzing anymore. Thor was being Thor and was trying very hard to make small talk with you. Only for you to nod and smile because you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was here with you.

Once you reached the apartment, you invited him inside out of politeness. 

“It’s a bit small, but y’know, it’s enough for me.”

“I think it’s a fitting space for you,” he commented as he seated himself easily on your sofa. You watched the way his mass frame took up the space, and it made you swallow hard, imaging yourself on his lap and just–

“I saw you were staring at me at the party earlier. Care to tell me why?”

The question took you by surprise because he sounded genuinely curious. 

“Uh….” 

“You’ve been avoiding me since I got back? Did I unknowingly offend you?”

“No. Not at all. I–it’s literally nothing, Thor. I promise. Wine?” you chirped as you tried to make an escape to your wine rack, only to find yourself being pulled back by a very strong arm. You didn’t realize a man his size could move so quickly and so quietly, but here you were being spun and landed right in his chest. 

Your heartbeat was practically drummed against your ears, almost deafening you as you stared up. He was so much larger and stronger. His scent filled your nostrils. He smelled so delicious that your mouth started to salivate.

“I know that kind of look, little dove, so either tell me or I’m forcing it out of you. And you know, I’m very good at the second one.” His eyes twinkled with a promise, and you had no doubt that he was capable of it.

You chewed on your lips and you watched the way his eyes seemed to darken like a stormy sky. 

“Don’t tease me,” you said helplessly, knowing that your admission might ruin whatever little relationship you have with him. “But I like you.”

“You do?” he asked with a genuine smile. You could see a hint of red dust on his cheeks, and suddenly you understood why you have a crush on him in the first place. The man was like a golden retriever. 

You nodded. “I don’t expect anything in return, so don't look at me weirdly…”

“Why would I ever look at a beautiful woman weirdly?”

Oh God, now he has done it. You could feel your breath leaving you. You forgot how charming he could be too. “You think I’m pretty?” you asked sheepishly. Your eyes suddenly couldn’t meet him.

“I think you are beautiful. Small, delicate, but capable. Every time I look at you, I just want to scoop you up in my arms and kiss you until I’m drunk.”

“Oh. Wow. Um,” you chuckled nervously. “You do?”

He nodded as he sat down on the sofa, his large hand was still holding you. “Yes. Like right now…” he said as he pulled you in until you were straddling him. “If you don’t want this, you can hop right off, and I shall return to the party. We can pretend like nothing ever happened.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m all yours, little dove.” 

You stared at him for a long moment before you leaned forward, your mouth covering his in a deep, hard kiss. His scent flooded your senses. 

He groaned when he could feel you sitting atop the hard ridge of his erection. It was obvious that he was as ready as you are. 

“Come here.” His voice was deep and husky, making your skin prick with goosebumps despite the warmness that radiated off of his body.

“Where?” you asked. Your voice was barely a whisper as you stared deep into his eyes, getting lost in them. If there ever was such a thing, his eyes were like fire in a bottomless ocean– the sort of passion trapped underneath a glacier that had frosted over millennia before, yet burned hotter than the sun. 

“My mouth. It would please me greatly if you let me lap up all that sweet, decadence honey of yours.”

You wanted to moan out loud by the way he finished off his sentences with a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. You hastily bunched up your dress and Thor helped you remove your panties. You forced yourself up slowly before you knelt astride his head; one knee on the edge of the couch while the other on the armrest of the sofa, spreading yourself out wide, giving him a clear view of your glistening pussy.

His large, calloused hands slid up your thighs, and his breath fanned over your needy cunt, making you shudder slightly. Thor slowly squeezed your ass, causing you to whimper softly. 

And then he started to lick you in a long and deliberate lap. His hand was kneading the back of your thighs as he settled into a feast, gliding his tongue along your list before he pushed into the folds, dipping inside you in shallow penetrations.

You couldn’t help but clutched the back of the sofa as you tried very hard to hold onto whatever was left of your sanity. Your legs shook slightly, almost wavering by the weight of the profound pleasure. You found yourself rocking your hips into his mouth, relishing the way his beard grazed against your inner thighs.

He would concentrate on that one spot that made you strain and cry out before he returned to stroke across your slit back and forth. He kept on doing this until your legs began to shake. 

“Do not come,” he warned. His deep rumbling voice seemed to send a tremor right through your throbbing pussy as he gave your ass another squeeze. 

You whimpered at that. How could he demand such a thing from you when he was so good at this?!

“I want to be inside you when you come,” he said before he gave your pussy another long, tantalizing lick. His nose brushed against your clit, and it made your thighs twitch a little.

“Please hurry,” you whined before you removed yourself from his mouth. 

This earned a disapproving grunt from him.  

“So impatient,” he said before he hastily removed his pants. He was long and thick like you’ve always suspected. Dark blond hair dusted the hard plane of his stomach all the way down. His cock arched up to his stomach. The pink, fat tip of his cock was already glistening as beads of precum leaked out of the slit.  

He was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and it made your mouth salivate. You know he was going to fuck your brain out and rearrange your inside.

You swallowed hard as your palm slowly wrapped around him. Thor turned and looked at you with half-hooded eyes. 

“Look how tiny your hand is. You can barely wrap your hand around me,” he said, biting his lower lips. “How is your cunt going to fit me, huh?” he asked.

“We’ll find out,” you said as he slowly pumped his shaft up and down. Your eyes are still glued on him, watching the way he inhaled through his nose. Thor spread his muscular thighs apart, giving you more room. 

You hummed at the obvious invitation. Clearly, Thor wanted you to do as you please. He was willing to be used by you, and that just made your pussy throb even more. 

A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as his palm slid down to your ass. You could feel the tip of his digits prodding at your entrance while the other was holding the base of his cock, slowly tapping the head against your cheek, urging you to open up.

You glared before your tongue darted out to lick the slit. His eyes gleamed as he grinned. A soft hiss slipped past your lips when he plunged his two fingers inside you.

“So tight for me, little dove. Are you sure you can fit me?” he asked again, but he didn’t let you answer. Instead, Thor grabbed the back of your head and shoved the fat tip right into your mouth. You could only answer with a muffled moan. “Your mouth can barely fit my cock. Come now, you can do better than this. Relax your jaw for me,” he mumbled as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. 

Thor would praise you when you moaned into his dick. The vibration pleased him greatly that he had to stop himself from thinking about fucking your mouth. He needed to hold out because he wanted to fuck that sweet cunt of yours, so dripping and so warm. He could see himself staying there and burying himself till the morning came.

“Alright, little dove. Let's see if you can in fact fit me,” he mumbled before he gently pulled your mouth off of him. His eyes glimmered at the way your drool was dripping down your chin, and the way you wet his shaft so nicely. 

You moved to straddle him again while he lined the head of his cock near your entrance. With both hands on his broad shoulders, you slowly sank down onto him, taking him inches by inches. You winced at the way he stretched you out. It felt like you were swallowing fire, only for it to feel like a never-ending mix of pleasure and pain. 

Thor sucked in his breath. His hands were clutching the armrest for dear life as you swallowed him slowly. Every part of him felt like being choked and squeezed to the limit. He tried his hardest to not plunge into you then and there, splitting you open till he filled you up with his cum.

You could feel the way his muscles strained and corded at the effort of sitting still. He knew if he moved too soon, he would risk making you come too soon. 

You bit your lips as you continued to glide slowly up and down his long shaft. He filled you too full and too much that was hard to even think. Your brain is filled with nothing but the feel of being stuffed by his cock. His heat and his hardness took your breath away every time you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs; the head of his cock struck deep, and the sound that slipped from your lips was nothing you ever thought you were capable of: raw and needy.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, hands stroking your thighs as his back arched, pushing his muscular chest against yours. You mewled at the way your hard nipples brushed against his hard chest. His calloused hands were still on your ass, holding you and guiding you when your movement got too clumsy.

Occasionally, he would help lift you up when your thighs gave out, sheathing you all the way down before lifting you up again with little effort. 

“Shh, it’s ok,” he cooed when your thighs gave out entirely. Your body slumped forward, legs shaking. His rough fingers stroked your spine, murmuring sweet nothing. “I’ll give it to you. Let me take care of you, little dove.”

Thor lifted you up as he pushed his hips upward, stroking you with breathless thrust. His name slipped from your lips as you buried your face in his neck. Fire and pleasure licked your inside every time he hit that one spot again, making your breath hitched in your throat. 

He lowered you again before lifting you up, fucking you upward into your greedy hole. The squelching sounds filled the room along with your panting and mewling. His chest rose and fell against your breasts, eliciting a new kind of pleasure.

“How’s that feel?” he panted as he held your hips in place. He could feel you close to falling apart in his arms as he began thrusting with determination. He was relentless, withdrawing himself all the way out before plunging balls deep inside you.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” you sobbed. You tried very hard to hold on to his shoulders–just something to brace yourself for the slap of his hips against yours. He felt too good and you were more than ready to be ripped apart by your orgasms and Thor could feel it too.

“Come for me, sweet dove,” he spoke through his gritted teeth as he brutally thrust into you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you flushed against his body. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”

You came with a loud shout. Your body spasmed as rapture ripped through you with a white-hot release. The rippling wave of your orgasms washed over you. Your pussy was practically squeezing his thick cock, milking him till he couldn’t help but moan.

Thor was still fucking you, using you so he could reach his own release too. He easily flipped you over. His large body covered yours while he drove his hips in and out of you with vigor. Each thrust sent your body forward while you laid there, too paralyzed from the afterglow of your orgasms. 

Thor hauled your legs upward, hands pulling you back to meet his thrust. He was so impossibly deep that every time he pulled back, no noise came out of you.

 His lips pulled back into a snarl. His nostrils flared, and fingers dug into your skin as his release exploded, filling you up with nothing but his sticky, white cum. His body strained above you as he crushed you to his chest. If you weren’t too cock drunk already, you could have sworn you heard a crack of thunder outside.

You didn’t know how long both of you stayed there. The soft panting and heavy breathing filled the silence as the rain began to slowly pour outside. Perspiration dampened his forehead. His golden lock stuck to his neck and he pulled back to look at you. Adoration filled his gaze as his lips moved to brush against your cheeks. 

You were still warm and feverish from one hell of orgasm he just gave you. “I’m scared if you pull out now,” you mumbled, nuzzling his neck. You could feel his dick soften inside you.

Thor chuckled. “Why so?”

“Well, you did come inside me…and like you came a lot, Thor.”

“And?”

“This couch is very expensive…if you pull out now, your cum will get everywhere. Like everywhere.”

Thor chuckled. “You are so strange, little dove. Fine, if that’s worrying you, we shall go wash up.”

You barely have time to ask him when he easily picks you up, his dick still inside you while he easily walks to your bathroom. His larger form dwarfed everything inside your apartment. 

With one arm still wrapped around you, Thor turned on the shower. You moaned at the way the hot water felt against your skin. Slowly, he set you down and the moment he pulled out, you winced at the way his cum was dripping down your inner thighs. You shuddered slightly.

“Holy shit, Thor,” you mumbled as you looked up, he only flashed you a charming smile. His large hand was on the nape of your neck before he leaned in and kissed you. He was so soft and so gentle, a duality from earlier love-making sessions. 

You could feel his cock slowly getting hard again, and your palm mindless found him once more. 

“You’re going to kill me with your appetite,” you mumbled as he stroked him. Thor rested his chin on your head. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his cock slowly came to life once again.

“Killing you is the last thing on my mind,” he murmured before he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his taut waist. Thor pressed your back against the shower wall as he slowly ground his hips against your aching cunt. Every part of you came alive as fire flowed in your veins. 

Once again, you found your pussy throbbing and pulsating when he just filled you up not too long ago. The hot water didn’t help either when all you wanted was to be fucked hard and rough.

You and Thor moaned in unison when he entered you swiftly, thrusting inside you with intent. He wasn’t being careful anymore as he crushed you against his large body. You were groaning with desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck. Incoherent moaning filled the bathroom as hot water splashed against his back. It wasn’t long till Thor pulled another orgasm out of you, making you slump in his arms. You felt spent and weak.

“Please, I can’t,” you pleaded with him. Thor only kissed your neck once more before he pulled himself out. “You killed me, Thor. How am I going to function now?”

“Please, this is just the beginning, little dove. I’m just getting started,” he winked and you knew you were in for a long weekend with the God of Thunder. 

Meanwhile, at the party, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce clang their beer together with a knowing smile on their faces as another lightning struck out in the far distant sky. Scott once again was the only one that was oblivious.

“They fucked didn’t they?” Clint asked as he stared out at the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was practically pouring outside. The other three men nodded before taking another swig of their beer. “Good for them,” Clint said before he took a sip of his own drink. “Good for them.”

[miss-conjayniality]

♡ SUB!ENHYUNGLINE AS SERVICE TOPS ♡

genre: smut (+ fluff)

pairing: sub!enhyungline x femdom!reader

word count: 2930

warnings: mommy kink (heeseung), cuddlefucking (heeseung), face sitting/face riding (heeseung & jay), daddy kink (jay), mistress x servant/slave (jake), reader wears bdsm attire (jake), bootlicking/foot fetishism (jake), mentions of rope play and chastity cages (sunghoon), slight objectification of all four of them if ya squint, overall themes of power dynamics (i made all four of them extreme simps for reader), reader is afab and uses fem gendered terms

A/N: god….this took fucking FOREVERRRR to finish. I had to rewrite jake’s section SEVERAL times cuz it was harder than expected to combine mistress kink with soft subby service tops. It’s ironic because you’d think that such a pairing is a walk in the park to write about. but the reason it was difficult is because mistress is normally depicted as such a ‘hardcore’ kink while service tops mainly operate in the realm of ‘softness’. funny enough…after overcoming the severe writer’s block i had for jake, i now feel very inspired to write an in-depth fic about jake’s portion.

heeseung.

heeseung is such a shy, sweet little thing. so sensitive. he’d do anything for mommy. whenever he isn’t being a mischievous brat, he’s the most soft-spoken sweetheart ever. he’s head over heels for you. he’s super affectionate and always wants to cuddle with you. there isn’t a single moment where he doesn’t want his arms wrapped around you (or your arms around him). heeseung loves the warmth of your embrace and believes it to be the most magical place on earth.

he’s a loving, caring boyfriend who admires all that you do for him. the dictionary definition of a gentleman. he too wants to give back to you tenfold. heeseung is the kind of man who will beg and plea to please you. he’s eager to make you happy and is drawn to the thought of you using him as your pleasure dispenser. he just wants you to feel good :( there’s no feeling in the world he loves more than seeing his stunning mommy flooded with all the orgasms she deserves. pleasing you is what pleases him.

heeseung is the epitome of a soft sub 🥺 he’s a very attentive and receptive lover. he’s yearning to get his hands on you whenever he can. he loves seeing your expressions whenever you’re getting pleasured by him. and if he ever detects any form of discomfort from you, he stops.

he’s the type to get very soft, mushy, and cuddly and would totally be into cuddlefucking. showering his mommy with so much love and appreciation. and even crying when cuddlefucking because he’s just so thankful to have a lover like you.

“thank you, mommy. thank you for taking care of me. for loving and respecting me. for showing me what real love is, and so much more. you deserve the entire universe.”

heeseung seems like he’d be highkey into face-sitting. it gives him the opportunity to inundate you with bliss while also fulfilling some of his softer masochist thoughts. he wants you to fuck his face until he can’t think coherent thoughts anymore. he’d moan so much under you that you feel the sensations of his whines up your pussy.

“mommy can you pleeeeease sit on my face?”

his desperate pleas continue, “I so desperately wanna get a taste of you while you suffocate me with your pretty pussy. please i need it so much. it’s killing me. it’s all I’ve been wanting all day”

it’s hard to resist the pull of your lover’s desires. heeseung is such a good boy to you. after all, who could possibly resist his dreamy doe eyes? you’ve teased him enough with the distance and finally start giving into the relieved tension. as the two of you are about to head to bedtime, heeseung has a different type of “bed” time in mind. one that involves less sleeping, and more pussy eating.

jay.

i will FOREVERRRRRRRR stand by the submissive dilf!jay agenda!!!!!! he’s the epitome of a simp husband who loves his wife deeply. he has his bratty moments occasionally. but 90% of the time, jay is suuuuuuch a good daddy for his little princess. jay lives to serve you. on every level. making sure you always feel safe, protected, and cared for. he loves preparing mouth-watering açaí bowls for you, giving you foot rubs while you sip the delicious mango smoothie he made for you, letting you use his credit card to buy those pretty n’ pink satin VS robes that have been on your wishlist for a while, carry all your luxury shopping bags while you strut like a bad bitch on the way to his car, have spa days with you, do each others’ makeup and play dress up, and of course….follow your every command.

princess gets what princess wants. all jay wants is for his princess to be happy 🥺 he can’t stand seeing you sad or mad. if you wanna be eaten out or have multiple orgasms, jay will happily let you use him as your fucktoy. you may have many toys that he has bought for you before. toys you can use while he’s away. but no “toy” could ever compare to jay himself. he himself is THEE sex toy. his hair. his chiseled face. his toned, honey-glazed, dusky body. his calming voice accompanied by his smooth moans. his delicious intoxicating cock. the way he so greedily eats you out and fingers you. the way he kisses your entire body and worships it like a goddess. your pleasure is his pleasure. that’s the mantra he goes by. you’re the star of the show.

you may seem like a perky n’ chirpy bimbo at first glance (which you are, of course 😚💅🏼). but beware. there’s so much more to you than that. you may be the living personification of pink glitter, but you’re also lethal & deadly. jay may be the physically stronger one of you two, but you’re the psychologically stronger one. therefore, you dominate him just off emotions alone. just a simple “please daddy? 🥺” with a puppy dog pout is enough to have him at your whim because a good daddy is one who submits to his princess. good daddies follows their princess’ orders and spoils her with all their might.

you really inspire him to open up (both his feelings AND his legs). the moment he opened up to you about being a submissive, he initially felt a wave of embarrassment. after all, who could possibly ever expect a cold, chic, manly gentleman like jay to even consider being a sub? you’d be surprised. once he heard you express approval of such a kink on him, it felt like a breath of fresh air. it’s not easy to become vulnerable about such a thing.

jay never believed in conforming to traditional norms of masculinity where the man is an obnoxious chest thumping caricature who thinks that being “dominant” is the only way to be masculine. he believes a truly masculine man is one who has the guts to be vulnerable and make bold, unorthodox decisions that go against the grain of what society expects from men. he’s well aware of his hot daddy dilf essence. but he isn’t your conventional daddy. no - he’s a submissive daddy. a daddy who serves the princess and gives her that ‘princess treatment’ she deserves.

as jay kisses and caresses your entire body, he showers you with praise and observes your expressions closely.

“princess, you have the most gorgeous body to ever exist and I want to take in every bit of it,” he vocalizes as he fingers you. “sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe that i’m in the presence of a lovely lady like you. daddy always wants to be good for you.”

his fingers penetrate deeper and his gaze darkens as he sees the sly smirk forming on your face.

“even when i’m at work, all i can ever think about is how my pretty princess is feeling. you deserve to be spoiled. don’t ever listen to anyone who shames you for being a spoiled brat or gold digging whore. they misunderstand the love we have for each other”

jay takes the fingers out of your pussy and replaces them with his mouth instead. the tent in his pants only grows stiffer and inundates his mind further. your heat possesses him to submission and he gets absolutely lost in your dripping slick.

“a good husband always submits to his wife. and i take great pride in submitting to such a bedazzling pretty princess like you.”

as he attacks your pussy with his sweet, loving kisses, he innocently looks up at you with the cutest pout ever and asks, “p-princess….am I p-….pleasing you right?” 🥺

jake.

jake is the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever. he has the most heartwarming love for physics, dogs, his family, his friends, and of course……YOU - his mistress. he’s a nerdy little simp who caters to your every whim. all the other nerds envy him for having a drop dead gorgeous gf like you.

jake’s unwavering adoration for you shines through in every gesture and word. his chirpy demeanor is the most endearing quality about him and you think he’s the absolute cutest because of that. he possesses the kind of cuteness that makes you want to pinch his cheeks and shower him with kisses. you love him with all your heart and he loves you tenfold.

in vulnerable moments, jake finds solace in your embrace, relishing the safety and security that your presence provides. he trusts you implicitly, surrendering himself completely to your care and guidance. your approval means everything to him, and he achingly seeks to earn it through unwavering devotion and obedience.

can he be a brat? certainly. jake has his moments when he likes being tamed by his ruthless, sexy mistress. but the majority of the time, he’s mistress’ good little boy.

despite his “nerdy” tendencies, jake possesses a mischievous streak that emerges when he wants attention from his mistress. he might playfully tease you or engage in witty banter, reveling in the opportunity to provoke a reaction from you. yet, beneath his playful facade lies a deep-seated need to be controlled by you. he is a slave to your desires.

throughout your relationship, jake’s submissive nature became increasingly intertwined with his geeky identity. he has a borderline scientific obsession with your body and wants to know everything there is to know about it. he’s longing to discover what pleases you and how to best serve the needs of his mistress.

his love for you is like the gravitational pull of a black hole – inescapable and infinitely powerful. every moment with you feels like a scientific discovery, unraveling the mysteries of love and desire. your dominion is his north star. it guides him through the darkness and into a place of boundless subservience.

servitude is jake’s middle name. his respect for you extends beyond mere words and gestures. he delights in showering you with thoughtful gifts, whether it’s a handcrafted origami flower or a meticulously prepared home-cooked meal. each gesture is a testament to his boundless affection and desire to make you feel cherished.

one might assume that a wholesome nerd like him isn’t into anything freakish or wild. however, the opposite actually rings true. after all…he IS a scorpio man….

you see, jake has a HUGE weakness for you in black leather, latex, pvc, etc. because he knows that once you’re in your kinky attire, there’s no going back. i could totally envision jake being into something like bootlicking. picture this - you sitting on edge of the bed with your pretty OTK black leather boots on, and he licks those boots from the top of the knee all the way to the bottom.

or even better…..you going, “jakeyyy I need help putting on these boots 🥺👉🏼👈🏼”. and jake, being the servile prince he is, is more than willing to take the time tie every intricate knot of your boots. it’s a sensual sight for both of you. he’d also love to do the same thing with your other bdsm attire like fishnets, corsets, etc. because he adores “helping” you put them on.

jake is definitely a body worship guy. he wants his mistress to know how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. he wants you to know he’s always there to pamper you when you need it. all soft and kissy. 🥺 to him, just your mere presence is orgasmic. he feels that the moment you’re scantily clad, his brain is scrambled. even when you aren’t touching each other, you dominate him on a deep, emotional, symbolic level. he’s deeply fixated on you. it’s as if you casted a spell or induced deep hypnosis on him. something about you makes him want to obey you and carry out all your wishes. through it all, jake remains your loyal companion and devotee.

as jake finishes tying every lace to your sexy OTK leather boots, he adorably looks up at you, welcomed by your sultry, penetrating gaze.

“embracing my role as the slave to your desires ignites a spark within me that surpasses the excitement of any laboratory experiment,” he declares as he hugs and kisses your boots, “and i am more than eager to undergo every trial and test in your presence.”

jake begins the bootlicking from the bottom up, his sly smirk never leaving his face. the way he so confidently makes eye contact with you while licking away drives you fucking crazy. this man is so freaky and you love it. taking his sweet time with each foot.

as he makes his way up to your knees, he kisses and caresses them both with gentle, tender softness. “with every command you issue, you rewrite the laws of my existence, molding me into the perfect servant for you, my mistress.”

sunghoon.

don’t be fooled by his intimidating, stone cold front. because beneath it all, sunghoon has THEE softest, mushiest heart ever. he rarely falls in love. but whenever he does, he falls HARD. and you were the one who shook his world and lit up his universe. sunghoon is often afraid to display such a raw, vulnerable side of him to others. after all, love is tough and scary. and sunghoon’s personality is widely misunderstood by others. there’s more to the surface than you’d expect.

but something about you makes him want to unveil himself bit by bit - both figuratively and literally. you make sunghoon want to surrender himself to you. he will move the earth and sky for you and is merely putty in your hands. he’s protective of you like a knight & shining armor with his queen. he will treat his lover like a living deity. he views you as a goddess and is the type of man to get down on his knees for you, hug your legs, and bow down to you the same way ancient civilizations revered goddesses. that’s the level of power you possess over him.

in your presence, sunghoon’s tough exterior melts away like ice in the sun. you become the center of his universe, your light guiding his every step. he finds solace in your embrace, comfort in your presence, and strength in your love. with you, he discovers a vulnerability he never knew existed, yet he embraces it willingly, knowing that you hold his heart with the utmost care. your influence over him is undeniable, like a force of nature bending to your will. sunghoon becomes not just a lover, but a devoted servant to your happiness, ready to move mountains and cross oceans to ensure your well-being.

sunghoon is such a simp for you in a way that would leave heejayke shocked. so much to a level where it’d put soft boyfriend heeseung, submissive dilf jay, and geeky simp jake to shame. they’d never expect someone like him to get so lovesick. they’re so used to his icy facade that they’re unaware of the fire beneath. it takes a special type of person to awaken that out of him. no one could ever foresee such an esteemed man of logic and restraint behave so irrationally for you.

goddess - that’s what sunghoon addresses you as. because it’s true! your dual nature of being kind & nurturing, yet fierce and ruthless is reminiscent of how ancient goddesses could bless or hex you in an instant. it’s what he respects about you. you possess the depth and breadth of the divine feminine. whenever he looks at you, he sees you as someone who commands respect.

and i just KNOW he’s one of those subs who repeatedly says “thank you thank you thank you” over and over when inundated by pleasure from his beloved. 😢 sometimes he feels guilty for receiving it all because first and foremost, he gets off on getting you off.

sunghoon is intrigued by the idea of you with black heels, stockings, a short skirt, etc. while those big, buff, beautiful arms are tied behind his back and you pull him in to suck your pussy. he likes when he’s fully naked and you’re (somewhat??) clothed. it puts on a specific power dynamic that he very well gets off of. he’s willing to bare it all for you, both symbolically and literally. sunghoon is totally the type to cry happy tears of gratitude while he messes with your pussy. he loves it when you have your way and you do whatever you want to him.

he gets off on situations where he can’t touch himself but he can touch you. such as his arms tied back as mentioned earlier, OR a chastity cage so that he doesn’t jerk off while he gets you off. you honestly don’t mind if he jerks off while pleasuring you. you find it hot. but he insists on the resistance anyways because he believes that such a buildup leads to a more intense climax for both of you later on.

just imagine….him with a sweet, pouty face and his loving words towards you as he kisses your thighs and dives into your slick with his lips…..

“mmm…m-my beautiful love goddess,” he cries. “thank you. thank you so much. i am all yours. i exist just for your pleasure. i hope you realize how much I love you. you’re my everything.”

tears start dripping down his eyes because of the immense gratitude he feels for you. the act of eating you out gets him into a deep trance. once he starts, he just can’t stop.

“goddess….your existence is a blessing. i worship you because your presence illuminates my world. i surrender completely to you, devoted to fulfilling your every desire.”