#have you ever tried throwing yourself off a cliff

[rovethings]

Sometimes I see Supergirl gifs of Lena and Lex and I get kind of... disappointed that they made that relationship so horrible?

Sure, Lex and Lena's relationship in comics is not the best. Their currently story is that he left her to live with her aunt and never spoke to her again after not being able to help her when she got sick. Then when he did he tried to hide her from the world of fear of not being able to protect her. She grew resentful of him after that and tried to kill him (which was so valid of her actually).

But it sucks to see that Lena so alone because besides all that, Lex loves Lena, she was once referenced as the only person Lex was truly capable of loving, and it sucks that they didn't let her have that.

Like, sure, he deserved to get shot for crying his ableist tears everytime he said he couldn't stand to see her in a wheelchair because he failed or wtv. But at very least he does lover her in his Lex Luthor way.

(then there's also the fact she's not disabled in that series, and as far as i know she also doesn't have her telephatic powers either so i wonder who that Lena was ever supposed to be lmao)

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Meat.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word count: 4.5k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Branding/Burning, Prolonged Imprisonment, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Descriptions of Gore, Implied Stalking, Mentions of Pregnancy, and Suicidal Ideation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You always thought you would wear red on your wedding day.

It was a family tradition – passed down with dutiful care for as long as anyone could imagine. Your grandmother had given her dress to your mother who had gifted it to you, her only child, on your eighteenth birthday, years before you would so much as think about getting something as permanent as marriage. Still, you safeguarded it with a religious devotion, never going more than a week without laying it out to check for signs of moths or mold. When you found yourself on a boat set on a course for Inazuma and could bring nothing but what could fit in the space underneath your bunk, her dress was the only item you truly could not bear to leave behind.

It was one of the few things Ayato let you keep, when he first brought you to his estate. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d known that you’d throw yourself off the nearest cliff if anything ever happened to that dress. You still would, if he so much as touched it without your permission.

The kimono you were being fitted for now was not red. The fine silk was pure white, the detailed embroidery along the hems and sleeves dark blue and bright, shining gold. The symbol of his archon glowed violet on the swell of the train – meant to appease the other factions of the tri-commission who protested when Ayato announced his intent to not only marry a commoner, but a foreigner. You hated that embellishment most of all, more than the sickly way his colors crawled over your body, more than the irritating smoothness of his favored silks where they hugged against your form and groped at your skin. It marked you as a tool, something to be used to one end or another. It marked you as a sacrifice – and an unwanted one, at that.

“Just as exquisite as I knew you’d be,” Ayato announced, his voice strong and unabashed. You’d begged him not to, but he’d insisted on sitting in on your appointment, making sure you couldn’t correct seamstress or overrule any of the choices he’d made on your behalf. The tailor hummed as she fastened a temporary sash around your midriff, tight enough to press uncomfortably against your ribs. If you needed to cry on your wedding day (which, in all likelihood, you would), it would have to be loosened. “How do you like it?”

You hated it.  You despised it. You wanted to claw it apart with your own pristine nails, separate each thread and seam with your very own teeth. You would’ve set yourself on fire just to see it turned to ash that much sooner.

“It’s perfect.” Your own voice sounded distant, distorted. There was no façade of sincerity. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could force onto you that you wouldn’t loathe, and you knew that any word uttered as to your hatred for him outside of the privacy of your shared bedroom would result in a collection of fresh rope burns to decorate your wrists, the better half of a night spent bent over his knee. “So long as it pleases you, my lord.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, attempting to spare yourself what suffering you could, but your resistance didn’t matter; you could hear the sharpness of his smile, picture the way his head tilted to the side as he basked in his own self-satisfaction as he went on, addressing the tailor. “If there’s a veil, you can get rid of it.”

You didn’t think you would ever get used to the way his voice seemed to grate when he was happy with himself.

 “I think my heart might give out if I’m not able to see my beautiful fiancé’s lovely smile.”

~

After meeting Ayato, you began to dream in red.

It was more of a pink, at first – during the first few weeks of his courtship, when the extent of his intrusive affection was a few dendrobiums left on your doorstep and a lingering glance as the handsome young commissioner passed your stall during his weekly stroll through the city market. For a short while, after his possessive habits began to rear their head and you were able to catch his guards in your peripheral more often than not, your subconscious was tinted a near-violent shade of scarlet, the kind that would leave you drenched in your own sweat and half-suffocated by the time you forced yourself to wake up. Recently, since he announced your engagement, they’d taken on a darker shade; choking velvets and deep crimsons blurring the distorted setting as Ayato’s faceless body moved on top of you, as his mouth unhinged and his lashing tongue dragged you down his waiting throat. On your worst nights, he’d tear you apart with his hands, first, divide you into neat, orderly pieces that he could slip past his lips and savor one at a time, one after another, until there was nothing left of you. He’d always preferred you in your most consumable form.

It was ironic, really, considering just how little red he let seep into your waking life. Maybe you had a deficiency; like a pregnant woman craving fish to make up for a lack of calcium. The closest you got to red from the doorway to his study were a few cherry blossoms fluttering past the window, their color dulled by age and their tree nearly stripped bare by the approaching winter. He looked away from his paperwork as you shrugged past the screen door, his pale eyes lighting up as he saw the tea tray in your hands. It was Thoma’s handiwork, but you doubted Ayato cared. He wanted to see you in the role of a caretaker, playing out the part he wrote for you to the best of your limited acting skills. What happened behind the curtain was none of his concern.

“To what do I owe the honor?” he asked as you set the tray on his desk. “I can’t remember the last time you visited me on your own.”

You flashed him a small smile. “Can’t I dote on my soon-to-be husband freely?”

He visibly straightened at the word ‘husband’, a familiar zeal infecting his expression. There was a quirk to his grin, a light tap to his thigh, and the tea went ignored as you obediently fell into his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you snug against him. If he was a monster, he’d be one with a thousand hands and a million fingers; he couldn’t seem to go a full minute without clutching at your hips, groping at your chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep, relieved sigh. “Husband,” he repeated back to you, all spellbound awe and deceiving wonder. “Archons, I can’t wait to be your husband.”

You wondered, sometimes, if it was his childhood that made him the way he was. After so many years of loneliness, so many tiny disappointments and frigid betrayals, you could only imagine he’d be eager to grab the first warm body he could and refuse to let you go. But, he let Ayaka come and go as she pleased, and seemed to take a certain delight in sending Thoma off on long-winded, far-flung errands. Whatever cruelty his upbringing had bred, it was clearly reserved for you.

His hand slid underneath the slit of your yukata, his breath turning hot and unpleasant against your collarbone, and you drew back with an airy laugh. “I do have an ulterior motive,” you admitted, hoping his curiosity would offset his insatiability, if only for a few seconds. “It’s about my wedding dress.”

“The breathtaking and priceless dress I’m having made by the nation’s most talented tailors so that all of Inazuma will know that I’m marrying the most beautiful person in Teyvat?” He raised his head, clicking his tongue. “What about it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you said, because he wouldn’t listen to you if you didn’t and you needed him to listen to you. “It’s just— I’m such a long way from home, and I know my family won’t be able to come, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing back the bile that threatened to spoil your sweet smile. “I was hoping we’d be able to incorporate my mother’s dress, somehow. If it’s not too late.”

It wasn’t. You’d been tracking the progress of his tailors meticulously, counting down the days until your wedding like a prisoner waiting for their execution date, and if it was one of his whims, another row of bedding added onto the sleeves or a new embroidery pattern worked onto the train, you knew that there’d be all the time in the world to make any adjustments he asked for. Still, his smile wavered, a brief sigh slipping past his lips as he shook his head. “My love,” The petname lulled off of his tongue as if it’d been coated in sugar and syrup and all the worst things you could think of. “That’s quite the risk to take. The poor thing’s so old, it might fall apart as soon as the tailor’s needle touches it.”

He'd been crueler, before – called the dress a rag as he looked at you with disdain-tinted pity, swore that your reliance on the filthy relic must’ve been caused by some inherent failure of your homeland – but your heart still clenched just a little tighter in your chest at his veiled disdain. “I’d like to try, at least.” Your hands curled around his collar, your frown taking on a more pleading note. “Please, my lord?” A pause, a tightened hold. “Please, Ayato?”

It was his given name, loving and tender and so rarely spoken in your voice, that did him in. He relented with an airy groan, letting his head roll forward in faux exasperation. “We’ll see.”

You beamed, but he was too lost in you to notice, already preoccupied with pressing open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your neck. The sash of your yukata was drawn loose, your sleeves pulled down to your elbows and your body shifted onto his desk, where he could spread your legs apart and bury his face between them. Your eyes drifted back to the cherry blossoms trickling past the window, but whatever tree they’d been falling from had finally been stripped bare. All you could see was the bright, cloudless sky – blue enough to leave you burnt and begging for a storm.

~

Two springs ago, the Kamisato Estate had been overrun with finches.

It’d been a comedy of errors, in hindsight. Ayaka had taken up a fondness for a new kind of flower – one native to Sumeru, introduced to her by an outlander with golden hair and knowing eyes. Thoma, the miracle worker that he was, quickly found a way to propagate it in the estate’s garden, and within the month, little violet blossoms had consumed all that they could reach despite the best efforts of the gardeners to keep them in-check. It would’ve been a delightful problem to have on its own, but the peak of the infestation happened to align with an annual migration of a type of finch that happened to hold a particular shining for a plant with a similar shape and color and— well, anyone could’ve guessed what happened next.

It was a nightmare for Thoma and the other groundskeepers and, since Ayato was staying in the city on business, paradise for you. You spent your days in the courtyard, showing the servants’ children how to braid crowns out of vines and press flowers between the pages of books stolen from Ayato’s personal library. You and Ayaka fed seeds to the red-crowned invaders and coaxed them close enough to pet and sketch, as little talent as you had for the latter, and she listened as you rambled excitedly about the crane-headed whistles you used to make every summer for a very wealthy ornithologist with very slippery fingers. She was just as lonely as her brother, albeit significantly less deranged, and you – trapped, isolated, desperate you – were the perfect victim for her. The two of you were never quite friends, but you came close that spring.

And then, Ayato returned. The flowers were uprooted, the children sent back to their chores, and the finches driven away with nets and stones and salt. You sobbed for hours the day the final flock left, and by means of consolation, Ayato presented you with a blue-speckled wren in a cage of pure silver, silk flowers bound to the bars with yellow ribbons as a reminder of your lost haven. To this day, you still aren’t sure if he meant it to be as cruel of a gift as it was.

You made it all of two days before risking another month spent shackled to Ayato’s bed and sneaking past the guards posted at the estate’s frontmost gates, the golden cage tucked against your chest. You released it in the woods, somewhere with plenty of tree cover and places to hide while it remembered how to be a wild creature, and watched with a smile as it fluttered past the cage’s door and into the open air, eventually landing on the leaf-littered ground.

It hopped all of three tiny steps before a fox emerged from the underbrush and swallowed it whole.

~

“Are you still with us, love?”

You should’ve gone limp. You should’ve acted as if the pain had gotten to you. You should’ve pretended you were dead to the world and that you couldn’t feel his cock languidly thrusting into you and that you’d gone numb to the searing iron slowly cooling into against the small of your back but, for as resentful as your mind was to him, your body was entirely subservient to Ayato. You tried to respond verbally, and when your voice caught in your throat, you forced yourself to nod, the motion small and shaky. Ayato rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a fleeting touch to the curve of your spine. A hundred pinpricks of purified agony accompanied his touch.

The silver brand had been commissioned from the finest metal crafters in Inazuma City, made to resemble the warped camellia that was the Kamisato Clan’s crest, and you let out an agonized scream as Ayato drew it back and pressed a calloused thumb into the tender patch of burnt skin. “You always do make such pretty noises for me.” He circled the shape of the white-hot bloom, drawing out another ragged whimper. “It’s a shame I only get to hear them when you misbehave.”

You wanted to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness, but try as you might, you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d done wrong. You hadn’t tried to run away. You hadn’t talked to any of the servants. You hadn’t done anything aside from smile and sit beside him as he spoke with the head of another clan – an older man whose eyes burnt into you for the entirety of their brief conversation. As far as you could tell, he was just a particularly shameless nobleman trying to decipher the curiosity that was the Yashiro Commissioner’s reclusive bride, but Ayato hated letting other men gawk at you at the best of times. Such prolonged exposure would’ve surely brought out the worst of his possessive habits.

You felt something tighten in your chest, catch in your throat, but you only realized you were crying when Ayato’s lips ghosted over your cheek, the gentleness of the gesture quickly replaced with the brutality of his fingers tangled in your hair, your head forced down and into the plush of his bed. You body threatened to collapse, but his free hand fell to your hip, keeping your back arched and your ass raised as he ground lazily into your cunt, in no rush to put you out of your suffering. “I think,” he groaned, lust heavy in his voice. “We’re going to have a big family. Half a dozen kids, at least.”

You beat your fists against the mattress, shaking your head violently, and he twitched inside of you. “They’ll have your eyes,” he went on, a sadistic delight in his voice. “And my swordsmanship, and I’ll love them as much as I love you.” He paused, the head of his cock scraping against something deep and vulnerable inside of you. “Well, almost as much as I love you. As much as I can.”

You tried to struggle, to get away from him, but Ayato held you close, his grip as unrelenting as his slow, aching tempo. With a calculated sort of grace, he leaned towards you, slotting his chest against your back and bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. “You don’t think it’s too soon to start, do you, darling?”

All you could do was try and fail to scream in response.

~

The first gift Ayato ever gave to you was a necklace the color of freshly split sapphires.

He insisted that you not think of it as a present, that you consider it little more than justified repayment for an item from your stall broken by the clumsy fingers of one of his couriers, but it was a present, it couldn’t be anything else. His courier had paid for the ruined pottery days prior, and yet, he’d sought you out in person to apologize with that sun-bright smile, to let his fingertips brush against yours as he passed you a satin-lined case with a perfect, ocean-blue velvet choker tucked safely inside. It was a beautiful thing, embellished with silver and dripping with transparent crystals, but you’d liked the color most of all. It’d reminded you of Ayato, and there’d been a time when you treasured any excuse to think of him.

You’d worn it the first time you saw each other properly, too. The occasion wasn’t formal enough to warrant something so needlessly extravagant, but you couldn’t seem to stop smiling for the entirety of your brief-meal-turned-seven-hour-conversation, and as your night came to an end, perched on the edge of a cliff underneath the Raiden Shogun’s palace and breathless from laughing, he told you that if you weren’t careful, he might just fall in love with you. You’d told him that, if he waited a few more days, you might fall in love with him, too.

You’d been wearing the same necklace when he broke your heart for the first time. It’d been an overcast day, the sky a clouded blueish grey and the shogun’s fury just barely audible in the far distance. He told you, with that perfect grin and those lonely eyes, that it really was terribly improper for the lover of a commissioner to run some meager stall in a sweat-soaked market, that he owed you better than a cramped room on the outskirts of the city where you had to wade through hours of farmland to reach anything of importance. When you said that you enjoyed your work, that you adored the back-breaking labor of your craft and loved having neighbors who would leave baskets of cabbage and lavender melon on your doorstep in exchange for misshapen cups and off-pattern bowls, he laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss deep enough and sweet enough to make you forget whether or not you’d agreed with him.

You were brought to the Kamisato estate less than a full month later and had yet to leave since.

~

The final garment was delivered two weeks before your wedding day. You watched from your pavilion as Ayato met the courier at the estate’s gates, accepting a large package wrapped in scarlet silk and brushing off the guards’ attempts to carry it on his behalf. You were embroidering, that day – a delicate, time-consuming art that Ayato praised in comparison to the messy, unpredictable medium of clay. You loathed the monotony of it, the strictness of the patterns, but it meant Ayato was less likely to break your fingers when he found you scrounging away spare mora in the hopes of some perpetually eventual escape and so, you embroidered.

“My mother’s dress,” you said, as soon as he was close enough to hear you. The wooden hoop was forgotten in your lap as you stared up at him, hope written clearly across your expression. “Do you know what they did with it?”

His grin widened. “Eager, are we?” You nodded frantically, and he added, “If I’d didn’t know better, I’d say you care about a dress more than your own betrothed.”

He settled next to you, the package laid across his thighs. He moved to unwrap it, then pivoted – his attention shifting as his gloved hand took hold of your wrist. He’d been touching you more delicately, lately, something you couldn’t help but link with his long-brewing but only recently materialized desire for children. It was a problem you elected to deal with later on, after the wedding, if only for your own inability to process just how horrific of a problem it was.

(There was a part of you which knew, even before your conscious mind could bear to accept it, that you would never be able to love something he put inside of you. Ayato’s obsession was enduring, able to feed off of nothing and contort reality to suit its needs, but your love had always been a rational thing, bound to end the moment it became inconvenient to house. Your love for your homeland died with your mother. Your love for Ayato died with your abduction. And, whatever love you could’ve had for a child— no, a shackle would die the moment the foul creature was born. You could hold no affection for a child that was made in Ayato’s image, that would be cleaved from your flesh for the sake of his happiness, and if by some miracle you did love the monstrosity, then you could only assume it would be because you’d abandoned all hope for yourself. Both futures seemed equally grim.)

“Ayato,” you simpered, leaning against his side. “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, playing soft as he handed you the oversized package. “It should be wrapped separately. I said I didn’t want to see the finished product until the day-of.”

Your hands shook as you undid the many knots. A smaller bundle sat within, separate from the tumor of ivory fabric you forced yourself not to linger on, and you took it up with a desperate sort of keenness, practically trembling as you tore it open with no regard for the integrity of its packaging. The crimson silk was torn away to reveal—

Blue.

Dark, never-ending blue.

“The color came out so beautifully. I’m glad you protested the way you did – otherwise, I might’ve never known we were missing something on our wedding day.” This time, you didn’t fight as he tore the remains of your mother’s dress out of your hands, holding out a sash the shade of apathetic night. You searched for something familiar, for something you could use to ground yourself, but it was absent of all recognizability, desecrated to the point of being all-but alien to you. “It had to be dyed, of course, but I’ve been told the process only cost it a moment of its integrity. The tailors—”

You blinked, but your vision remained black when you opened your eyes. Your body was lurching forward, and then you were in Ayato’s arms, limp and buzzing. Ayato was laughing, as shocked as you were drained, and you made no effort to pull away from him. “My poor little wife. I know – the anticipation’s almost too much to bear.” He pressed a kiss into your forehead. “Why don’t we spend some time together, like we used to? I think I can push my obligations aside for the day, considering the occasion.”

You didn’t respond, but he gathered into his arms regardless. He had always seemed to prefer you as dead weight.

~

You did end up in red on your wedding day, but you doubted you’d be getting married, anymore.

His own sword slid and out of his back with a wet, gripping noise – only interrupted when the blade slipped in your hands and hit bone rather than viscera. Blood splattered against the white of your kimono with every plunge, staining the susceptible fabric easily and leaving you struggling to keep your feet underneath you as the puddle of scarlet grew deeper, as the screen walls began to drip and your lungs filled with copper and iron. Ayato, the ever-worried lover that he was, had come to check on you before the ceremony, fussing over your blank eyes and the tear-tracks that had ruined your make-up twice, by then. He’d been concerned, but giddy, unable to keep himself away from you despite his many promises of tradition and decor.

He'd made it three, maybe four minutes before beginning to toy with the clasps running down your chest.

You’d taken up the first thing you saw – a hand mirror gilded with shining rose gold – and brought it down on his head.

That, on its own, would’ve left him with a scar and little else, but you’d worked quickly, drawing the sword from its sheath on his belt and bringing it down into anything that seemed vital, anything you could reach, anything that bled calming, soothing red. He stopped moving on the fifth strike, his uncalled upon Vision going dull on the sixth, and on the seventh, you heard someone call for the guards.

You waited until you could hear their footsteps before falling to your knees, bringing the point of your blade to your stomach and clenching your eyes shut, praying to any archon who would listen that you’d hit something they couldn’t be healed, that they’d lend you a more merciful fate than another jail cell, another lifetime of entrapment.  You plunged the blade into your stomach and—

And were met with little more than a cold, blunt sensation and a bottomless pit of despair.

You opened your eyes, your gaze flickering from your ice-coated blade to the doorway of your dressing room, now occupied by Kamisato Ayaka, one hand raised and her Vision pulsing at her side. Guards rushed in on either side of her, grabbing at your shoulders and wrists, but your stare never left Ayaka, her parted lips, her flushed cheeks.

Her bright eyes, just as blue and just as lonely as her brother’s had ever been.

[wonusite]

Favorite

❝ When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention. ❞

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader

genre: teacher au, cam girl au, college au, smut

word count: 9.3k

warnings: illicit relationship, imbalance of power, age gap (reader is in her 20s and wonwoo is in his 30s), sex work, drinking, lots of pining, jealousy, misunderstandings, professor!wonwoo, student!reader, cam girl!reader, masturbation (f and m), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, office sex, car sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!wonwoo

a/n: this has been in the works for way too long and i’m so happy with how it came out. hugest shoutout to the nonny who sent in the ask that started it all. minors dni!!

You think you might actually die.

If you didn’t spontaneously combust from how embarrassed you felt, then you were going to go find a cliff to throw yourself off of. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this badly, and it doesn’t help that it’s all your friends can talk (and laugh) about as you’re having dinner.

“Maybe he didn’t open it.” Vernon tries to reason.

“Yeah, right.” Soonyoung snorts. “He probably already clicked on the link and is jerking off to her videos right now.”

Chan’s laugh is one of the most endearing sounds you’ve ever heard, but right now it just sounds annoying. You’re glad you ordered an alcoholic drink with your meal because otherwise you wouldn’t be able have this conversation. When your friend sees your sour pout, he quickly changes his tune.

“You’re worrying for nothing. I’m sure once he saw what the site was, he clicked off.” Chan says as he not-so-subtly scoots his chair away from you. “He’s like the most respectful guy ever.”

“Chan’s right.” Vernon is quick to agree. “Professor Jeon isn’t the type to cross those boundaries with a student. You said you sent him an email saying it was a mistake, right? He’s a nice guy, so—”

“How fucking naive can you two be?” Soonyoung cut in with an incredulous look on his face. “I know his type. Those quiet guys are the biggest freaks behind closed doors. He’s definitely the type to fuck a student. I’ll put money on that shit.”

Chan pauses to mull over Soonyoung’s words while Vernon can only offer him an exasperated glare. The two boys know better than anyone how you feel about your professor, and they also know that the older man was the only person in the history of the universe to treat you coldly. This was definitely the worst situation you could ever find yourself in, but Soonyoung was too oblivious to see that fact.

Being the sweetheart that he is, Vernon is quick to change the topic. “Seokmin just texted me. He said everyone is on their way to Jihoon’s place. Let’s get the check.”

For a moment, it seems like your inner turmoil will be forgotten. Sure, you do have class early in the morning, but right now you were going to focus on having a good time at Jihoon’s party. And Vernon was probably right. Professor Jeon was the sweetest, most respectful man you had ever crossed paths with. He probably deleted the email after realizing what it was. And even if he hadn’t, this moment would eventually pass.

After all, no one ever actually died from embarrassment.

Everything was fine until the four of you are about to leave the restaurant and Soonyoung lets out a sound that resembles a chicken being strangled. His eyes are bugged out as he comically gestures across the dimly lit place. Your heart twists uncomfortably when you finally see what has him acting like a fool.

“I told you so.”

Those four words are the ones you hate the most in the world, especially when they’re coming from Kwon Soonyoung. You love him, you really do, but his lack of perception is fucking maddening sometimes. It’s especially infuriating in situations like the one you were in now.

“No fucking way.” Chan whispers with his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”

“Just because they’re having dinner together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.” Vernon reasons, obviously trying to spare what was left of your feelings.

“Who cares?” You manage to say without letting your voice tremble with the heartbreak that was currently seeping into your bones. “Let’s get out of here before they see us.”

Soonyoung only scoffs, not able to believe that your nosy ass doesn’t seem to care about the juicy scandal the four of you had stumbled upon. Vernon starts to push him out the door while you and Chan hurriedly follow behind them. Luckily, you manage to make it out of the restaurant without catching the attention of your English professor and his TA.

Normally, you would’ve loved to be a witness to any potential gossip, but this was different because you just so happened to be the tiniest bit in love with your professor. The more rational part of you knows that it doesn’t really mean anything that Professor Jeon was having dinner with his TA, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little bit (a lot).

No one ever died from embarrassment, but apparently dying from a broken heart was real.

“This is actually a good thing for you, Y/N.” Soonyoung says once you’re all in Chan’s car and driving to Jihoon’s party.

You grit your teeth and manage to answer him in a somewhat calm voice. “What are you talking about?”

“If Professor Jeon says anything about the link you accidentally sent him, you can tell him that you know he’s fucking his TA.”

It actually wouldn’t be a bad idea if even talking about the very possibility that those two were having an illicit affair didn’t feel like someone had punched you in the stomach. But instead of letting any of them see how much it actually hurt, you only offered what you hoped was a convincing laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You look out the window as the conversation takes a different turn, not noticing the looks Vernon keeps giving you all the way to Jihoon's apartment. He doesn’t say anything because you keep speaking and laughing like everything is fine. He should’ve recognized your calm and aloof behavior as a sign that you were on the verge of spiraling, but he didn’t.

Even as you unbutton two more buttons of your pretty blouse and hike up your skirt when you enter the party, he doesn’t say anything. It’s easy for him to assume that you want to hit on some of Jihoon’s producer friends for fun as you often did after getting a little tipsy.

It’s not until he sees you drinking like the world is running out of alcohol that he feels the need to intervene. Vernon quickly walks over to you, eyeing you with blatant concern. You don’t even acknowledge him as he goes to stand beside you.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

You ignored your friend’s concerned voice and downed another shot. In the back of your mind, you know he’s right, but the need to forget about your hurt feelings and humiliation was far greater than reason. Besides, you can hardly taste the alcohol anymore which makes it easier to drink to your heart’s content.

“This is a party, Vernon.” You remind him. “I’m only trying to have a good time. I deserve to, don’t you think?"

Of course he thought you were in desperate need of a fun night out. In fact, he’s the one who convinced you to come since it had been a hot minute since you left your apartment for something that didn’t involve working or school.

But Vernon can see that the way you’re drinking is only an after effect of what you saw at the restaurant, and if you kept this up you were going to black out like you did at Junhui’s party freshman year. Because he didn’t want to relive that night, he makes sure to bring you plenty of water and keep you within his sight. If he couldn’t stop you, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

Maybe you’re acting childish, but you don’t really care at this point. All you can focus on is the pain that’s tightly gripping your heart. The alcohol helps a bit, but you still don’t manage to forget the events leading up to your irresponsible drinking.

You could get over your little slip up, and even the fact that Professor Jeon was potentially fucking his TA. But what really hurt is that your English professor seemed to display this great disposition to everyone in the world except you. Sure, you should’ve been grateful that he probably didn’t open the link you sent him because he was having dinner with TA, but your fucked up mind and heart couldn’t care about that for some reason.

It’s not fair, you can’t help but think.

You were down bad, but it wasn’t your fault. Every time your English professor smiles, you feel like your heart is going to implode. The way his kind eyes always form into crescents as the softest smile ever graces his face is possibly the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.

What’s not fair is the fact that Professor Jeon has never directed his pretty smile at you. Not even once.

It’s not like he’s never had the opportunity to do so. You purposely arrive early to his class in order to sit at the very front, and not to mention that you’re very vocal during discussions and always answer his questions. But all he’s ever offered you is a fleeting glance and a nod of acknowledgement while the entire English department gets that stupidly endearing smile of his.

Chan always tells you how thirsty you look during class, and when you make the argument that he wouldn’t know since he always sits all the way in the back, he actually laughed at you.

You lean forward so much that it looks like you’re about to fall out of your seat, he’d said.

After you catch yourself doing exactly that during one of Professor Jeon’s more riveting lectures, you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. If Lee fucking Chan—one of the most oblivious people you had ever met—had noticed your massive crush, then you were 100% sure your professor had as well.

Just thinking about it made you cringe and down another shot. The burning feeling made you come to a decision. If your professor didn’t care for you, then so be it. Tonight was the last night you would feel heartbroken over him. You were going to shove him out of your heart and mind if it was the last thing you did.

Wonwoo can’t describe the feeling in his chest when his class is ten minutes away from starting, and you’re not already in your usual seat. He tries to brush it off because maybe you’re just running late. After almost an entire semester of always being early, it was only logical that you would be late at least once. Things happened, and he was sure you would show up soon.

At least, that’s what he thinks until it’s actually time to start the class and you’re still no where to be seen. It bothers him and it shows. Bad.

The class is probably the worst he’s had since he first became a professor, but that was the least of his concerns. All he can focus on is the uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut as he thought about the possibilities of why you didn’t show up to class. Wonwoo doesn’t want to believe that you’re too embarrassed to show up because of the link you accidentally sent him.

You had sent him an email containing the correct link and profusely apologizing about thirty seconds later, and after he saw the name of the website he could see how the mistake was made. Unfortunately for you, the two websites were very similar in name.

If you really were avoiding coming to class because of that, he wishes you would give him a chance to tell you that he wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. But Wonwoo doesn’t get the opportunity to speak to you as soon as he hopes because almost an entire week goes by until he sees you again. He sees you on the way to his office and calls out your name before he realizes what he’s doing.

The way you’re expression drops into a cold discomfort makes him falter a bit. Where was that bright smile you always directed at him? It only makes Wonwoo certain that you were still mortified over what happened.

“I didn’t see you in class on Tuesday.” Wonwoo says after you awkwardly greet him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... personal stuff.”

The air is painfully awkward, and Wonwoo can’t stand the abrupt shift in your behavior. He needs to let you know that what happened shouldn’t make you feel uneasy around him because he understands that it was a mistake. However, he doesn’t react fast enough to do so.

“Professor.” You say hesitantly, nervously biting at your bottom lip. “Did you click on the link I accidentally sent you?”

You’re looking at him so shyly and nervously that he becomes powerless immediately. Wonwoo wants to make you feel more comfortable, but he also is unable to lie to you. “I did.” He says honestly. “But once I realized you sent the wrong website, I clicked off.”

Wonwoo can tell his honestly doesn’t make you feel any better. Just as he goes to comfort you, your attitude suddenly shifts.

“I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” The apology sounds sincere, yet it’s missing the usual warmth your voice held whenever you spoke to him. “I have to go. I’ll see you in class.”

Wonwoo’s heart sinks when you run off without even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Maybe this is his own fault for taking your once sweet attitude toward him for granted. He never thought a day would come where you would actively avoid him.

A sudden determination to have things go back to the way they were overcomes him. Unfortunately, things got worse before they got better.

When he sees you again, you’re not early. You aren’t late either, but it’s odd to see that you don’t seem to care to be early anymore. And you don’t sit right at the front either. No, this time you sit all the way in the back between two boys—Lee Chan and Xu Minghao. This somewhat bothers him, but he can’t really be upset. After all, you were allowed to sit wherever you wanted.

It’s not until he sees you giggling and talking with those boys—particularly Minghao—during his lecture that he really gets agitated. He carries on as normally as he can, but this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is expanding up into his chest keeps distracting him. Deep down, Wonwoo knows this feeling is nothing more than petty jealousy.

Your new behavior carries on for weeks, and it makes Wonwoo feel like he’s losing his mind.

Finally, he decides he can’t keep his frustrations pent up inside and does something he knows he shouldn’t. When he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and gets on his computer. He opens the browser and is quick to click on the only site that’s on his favorites. Wonwoo quickly logs in, the action of typing his username and password is muscle memory at this point.

His eyes don’t mind the videos on the homepage, he only focuses on going to his subscriptions and clicks on the only profile he has under his favorites. Wonwoo let’s out a laugh. It’s quiet and slightly bitter. It’s funny how worried you were about him clicking on the link when he had been watching your streams since before you became his student.

Wonwoo feels a sense of sour accomplishment. He’s gone almost an entire week without watching any of your videos, but that was all in vain. As he scrolls down, he notices that you’ve done two streams since he last watched you. Just as he was deciding which one he was going to watch, he got a notification.

brattydoll sent you a message!

It’s pretty certain that Wonwoo flinched so hard it can be seen from space. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, and it almost feels wrong that this is happening to him. But he shoves all those thoughts aside and quickly clicks on the notification.

brattydoll: hi! you were the top tipper for the stream i did last week. as usual, you are eligible for a private stream. let me know what time and day best works for you xoxo

It takes him less than a minute to type a response to let you know he’s ready now. He waits in anticipation for your message, really hoping you say you’re ready too.

His dick starts to get hard when you tell him you’ll be ready in ten minutes while also explaining the boundaries you have while doing these private streams. He doesn’t really need a reminder since he’s won a private stream from you a couple of times before. Honestly, all he can really focus on is how he’ll get to have you all for himself. He quickly strips down to his underwear before he settling into his chair.

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch when you pop up on his screen. You have a sweet, seductive smile on your face as you gaze at your screen. It’s not like the one he was used to, but at least he can pretend you’re directing it at him like you know who he actually is. He’s fully hard by the time he notices that you’re wearing the lingerie set he sent you recently. You look absolutely divine in it. His very own temptation. Licking his lips, Wonwoo starts typing into the chat.

you look beautiful, baby. how have you been?

“How have I been?” You tilt your head innocently. “Horny. But what else is new?”

Fuck. This is exactly why he could never look you in the eyes for too long when he saw you in person. Wonwoo was always afraid you would be able to tell how much he wanted you if he looked at you too long. He was never good at hiding his feelings, after all.

“Do you like how your gift looks on me?” Your sultry voice asks, and Wonwoo feels his heart pound when your smile becomes affectionate.

i fucking love it. i knew it would be perfect for you.

Your tantalizing grin makes Wonwoo wish he was there with you. God, how he would ruin you.

“Before I start, I have one question.” You say as you lick your lips. “Are you not gonna let me see your pretty little cock?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep breath because he can literally feel his cock throb in need. He quickly angles his webcam so you can only see his torso before he turns on the camera. Your wolffish grin has precum oozing from his bulbous tip, and he thinks vaguely that he would fuck that complacent smirk right off your face if ever given the opportunity.

“Thought you were getting shy on me, baby.” You say as your hands start to trail up your body.

never.

You giggle sweetly, and Wonwoo feels like he can come from the sound alone. He wonders if you know exactly what you do to him and everyone who gets to see you like this. He suspects you do.

“I missed you.” It comes out breathy as you start to knead your tits. You bite your lip before pulling off your bra. “You hadn’t been on my latest streams, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t your favorite cam girl anymore.”

If only you knew.

you’ll always be my favorite, kitten.

You moan softly when you see the chat, thumb and index finger pinching and tugging at your nipples. “You promise?”

Wonwoo types a quick yes before he grips his cock, thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading the precum all over his tip. His large hand starts to pump his cock, watching as your eyes focus on the what he squeezes and tugs on himself. Wonwoo lets out a shaky groan when he sees your thighs squeeze together.

let me see that pretty pussy, baby.

You’re quick to push your panties to the side and your two fingers along your wet lips. Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to your pussy. Watching you use your arousal to lubricate your fingers is driving him insane, and he has to slow his movements when you sink your fingers into your cunt. He wonders what face you would make if it were his fingers fucking you instead. They’re so much bigger than yours are.

“Fuck.” You moan as you start to grind into your hand.

Wonwoo watches as your fingers move in and out of your cunt, eyeing the way you arousal is dripping down to your ass. Fuck. He wonders if you always get so wet or if the sight of his cock is getting you off. Part of him feels content deludedly believing it’s the latter.

Your moans grow louder when your fingers brush against your sweet spot. It’s rare that you imagine it’s your subscriber’s dick inside you and not your fingers, but cockydom’s cock is just so big and pretty that it’s hard not to. The other part of you thinks about your hot professor despite the fact that you were trying to get rid of the feelings you had for him. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Wonwoo curses as his movements speed up. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you play with yourself while pretending that his fist is actually your sweet little cunt.

you close, baby?

“So close.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm building up. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come with me?”

He’ll do anything you want. Instead of telling you that, Wonwoo types in the chat to keep your eyes on him. He wants you orgasm to the sight of him coming.

You’re glad your eyes are focused on the pretty dick on your screen because it makes it easier to reach your orgasm. The sight of the flushed cock aching and throbbing makes you clench around your fingers. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips are bucking into his hand as he squeezes around the sensitive tip. His thighs are quivering, and with a few more drags of his fist, you see the first rope of cum shoot out of him.

Wonwoo lets out a strangled gasp as his cock throbs wildly with each ribbon of cum that shoots from his tip. He comes so much that his seed covers his hand and abs. It glistens over his pulsing dick while he fucks his hand through his high. He smirks when he sees that you’re eyes are completely fixed on him as he milks every last drop from his cock.

A low moan tumbles past your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Wonwoo is careful to watch your facial expression, his fist subconsciously speeds up. You're just so fucking hot, and he just imagines how you would look coming on his cock.

You smile nicely and sweetly at the camera, biting your lower lip as you moan softly and rub a thumb over your clit. Two fingers spread yourself so he can see the way your folds glisten with your slick. Wonwoo’s zero in on your quivering cunt and the fingers that held them open. He just wants to take them in his mouth and suck them dry.

“I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” You breathe out blissfully. “You always do this to me.”

Wonwoo swallows thickly. Fuck. You’re turning him on all over again.

“Let’s end it here, baby. Be sure to watch my next stream.”

And just like that, the screen goes black and Wonwoo is left staring his own reflection.

Sometimes you have to wonder if your life was fate’s way of punishing you for something you had done in a previous life because there was no fucking way you were this unlucky without any reason.

When you agreed to meet Seokmin for dinner, you never thought you’d be itching to leave the moment you arrived. All you wanted to do was have fun and distract yourself from your failing plan to get over Professor Jeon, but unfortunately for you, fate had other plans.

After the hostess leads you to your table, it becomes clear that bringing along Soonyoung and Chan was a mistake. Because sitting at the table alongside your friend was none other than Professor Jeon Wonwoo. You nearly trip over yourself because not only is he there, laughing and talking without a care in the world, but he looks so fucking hot while doing so.

The older man isn’t wearing his glasses and his hair is slicked up, exposing his forehead. Your professor looks like an absolute dream, but all you can see him as is a nightmare in the flesh.

This could not be happening to you.

It always slips your mind that Seokmin is older than all of you, but now you know that you’ll never forget. You considered turning around and making a stealthy escape, but your overenthusiastic friend spots you before you can even make a move. He greets all of you with a loud shout. At this point you can't just run away no matter how badly you want to. But you decide to stifle all your feelings, and try your hardest to not act like a skittish animal.

“Professor.” Chan greets casually as you three go to sit, and you envy that he’s so nonchalant. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I haven’t seen Seokmin in a long time.” Wonwoo says, noticing how you’re doing everything in your power not to look at him.

He won’t stand for it. Not anymore. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N.”

It gives him a sick thrill to see you shiver at his words. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He manages to smile instead of smirking like he wants to. Wonwoo has always known you’ve felt an attraction toward him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. After all, you were his favorite student.

“Don’t be so awkward!” Seokmin chastises you after you tensely greet your professor. “Wonwoo is just a normal guy right now! Don’t even think of him as your professor.”

If only that’s why you felt so uncomfortable.

Your first mistake of the night was bringing your moronic friends who can’t take a hint. The second mistake was ordering a round of shots to ease your nerves. It’s not like dinner isn’t going smoothly, but the coiling in your stomach refuses to let you relax.

You try to engage as much as you can without letting your emotions slip through, but your professor keeps making it hard. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he seems interested in everything you have to say, no matter how small. You can’t help but feel a little bitter at that.

Where was this energy when you were making a fool out of yourself during his many classes?

“Y/N.” Seokmin calls in a singsong voice after he downs another shot. “A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.”

You try to ignore Wonwoo’s piercing stare, but it’s hard. Instead of focusing on your professor’s uncharacteristic behavior, you cast a fleeting glare at Chan. He can never keep his mouth shut, and this time you don’t know how you’re going to keep yourself calm enough to answer Seokmin.

Somehow, you manage to respond normally. “I wouldn’t say that. This little birdie is obviously mistaken.”

“Really?” Soonyoung cuts in, and you can literally hear the alcohol starting to dictate his actions. “Because Minghao has been wanting to fuck you since high school, and you finally went out with the kid last week. It’s gonna break his heart to know that you don’t want to be his girlfriend.”

You clench your jaw and give Seokmin a look that said, control this fool before I murder him. Sure, maybe it would’ve been good for Professor Jeon to think that you weren’t trying to get at him because of the link you’d sent him, but talking about Minghao’s apparent schoolboy crush on you was not the way you wanted to do that. Also, it was just uncool to air out someone’s intimate feelings like that.

Before any of you could intervene and stop Soonyoung’s drunken ramblings, your dear friend keeps talking. “Of course you’re not obligated to return his feelings. If that’s the case, Seungcheol also wants to go out with you. Just let me know."

Chan might not be very observant, but he knows when you’re on the verge of exploding. He definitely does not want to see you on the warpath because it’s possibly one of the scariest experiences he’s ever gone through. So he quickly intervenes before you decided to shove one of the utensils on the table down Soonyoung’s throat.

“You said Jihoon asked you to sing on the new song he’s workin on.” Chan cuts in before Soonyoung can keep talking. “Did you say yes?”

This shift in conversation works out for all of ten minutes before Soonyoung starts up again. However, he’s now changed his target to your English professor.

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung slurs the name slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You can see the disaster waiting to happen, and you only hope he doesn’t do anything to perturb your teacher. As you share a look with Chan, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“Since you’re not my teacher anymore, I feel comfortable asking you this.” Before he can say anything, Soonyoung continues. “Are you fucking your TA?”

Everything just goes silent.

Seokmin’s smile drops instantly. All he can do is gawk at Soonyoung. Chan looks at Professor Jeon while hiding his mouth behind his hand, and you just know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. That dumbass finds it funny, but you know that your friend isn’t done with his drunken questioning. Professor Jeon doesn’t seem all that fazed. He only blinks slowly before his eyes fall to you.

You’re not sure what Wonwoo sees when he looks at you, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. When he looks back at Soonyoung, there’s a lethal coldness in his eyes that you never in a million years thought you’d see. If looks could kill, your friend would be nothing but dust at this point.

“No, I’m not fucking my TA.” His deep voice comes out in a growl and you almost want to hit yourself for feeling turned just by the sound of it. “Why would you—?”

“You don’t have to lie. You’re amongst friends here.” Soonyoung declares with a laugh.

God, you’ve never wanted to throttle anyone more than you did right at that moment.

“Besides, you were seen having dinner at Michelins.” Soonyoung says before he gestures to himself then to you and Chan. “By us.”

It was official. You were definitely paying for something wicked that you had done in a past life.

Wonwoo’s shocked gaze falls to you, but you and Chan are too busy looking like you were one more word away from strangling Soonyoung to pay him any attention. Ten shades of horror goes through him at that moment because even though there was nothing going on between him and his TA, he didn’t want you to think there was.

“Aha,” Seokmin chuckles nervously. “Soonyoung’s a little drunk, I guess.”

“That’s right.” You say with a disgenuine smile and gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Luckily, Seokmin is quick to call for the check with the pretext of needing to get up early to go record with Jihoon. You share a look with Chan as you all get up, knowing you were both utterly fucked. Sure, Professor Jeon didn’t seem like the petty type, but Soonyoung had a way of bringing that side out in people.

“Wanna share an Uber?” Chan asks you as he hold on to a wandering Soonyoung.

Again, you ignore your professor’s piercing gaze and shake your head. “Minghao’s gonna take me home.” You say as you gesture behind you to the waiting car.

Wonwoo watches with a clenched jaw as you slip away after only offering him a halfhearted farewell.

Since his plan didn’t work this time, he was going to move to Plan B.

It makes him smirk a bit. Soon enough, you’d be the obedient, earnest student you were before this entire mess started.

If Wonwoo felt hesitant about executing his plan before, he definitely doesn’t after seeing the way your attention is focused on Xu Minghao the entirety of his class. He can barely manage to keep a calm facade as he tells you that he needs you to see him before his office hours are over. Just as he hoped, you come just when there’s about ten minutes left. He knows you do it so you wouldn’t have to spend much time with him.

You try to rush him because you can’t stand him when he has his hair slicked up and no glasses on. And you feel like you’re going crazy because it almost seems like he’s aware of this with the way he’s looking at you.

“I wanted to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around me after what happened the other night.”

It’s a shame that you can’t tell him that you don’t want to talk about it, especially with him. Instead of telling him that you just wanted him to get out of your mind and heart, you only offered him an impassive shrug. “I don’t. Is that all?”

“I also hope you know I’m not sleeping with my TA.” Wonwoo says in a slow drawl that makes a familiar heat gather at the pit of your gut.

“Yeah.” You breathe out shakily. “I know you wouldn’t sleep with a student or someone who was your student.”

You feel like a wounded gazelle when Professor Jeon starts to stalk toward you. A quiet squeal leaves your throat when he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “Who says I wouldn’t?” He hums against the shell of your ear. “I’m not fucking my TA because she’s not the one I want.”

A dull thumping sound fills your ears, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s your heart. You swallow thickly and look at Wonwoo with wide eyes when he pulls away from your ear. “I… but this—”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He purrs in that deep voice of his, and you can already feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. “Despite what you all think, I’m a cocky dom.”

It takes you half a second to figure out what he’s implying. Your jaw drops, feeling like you’ve been body snatched and dropped in an alternate universe. “You—! You’re—!”

“Don’t get shy on me now, kitten. That’s not you.”

If he’s cockydom, then he’s been watching you for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been his student. It flatters and mortifies you all at the same time.

“Do you know how hard it was to have you so close without being able to touch you?” Wonwoo groans as he presses closer to you. He smirks when you whimper at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you.

“I couldn’t even look at you without thinking about your pretty little cunt.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. His coldness, his unwillingness to pay you much attention, everything. That’s all you need to realize before you smash your lips on to his.

Wonwoo moans into your mouth, hands sliding down beneath your skirt to dig into your ass. His cock twitches when he feels that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Fuck. He was going to ruin you in every way possible.

You slowly guide him toward his desk without disconnecting from his lips, needing him to fuck you like you’ve dreamed of him doing from the moment you saw him. Just as you’re about to bend over his desk and show him how wet you already are, a knock startles you both.

“Professor? Can I come in?”

You both recognize it as his TA’s voice, and just as Wonwoo is about to tell her to get lost, you put a finger to your lips. He can only watch as you drop to your knees and crawl under his desk before you motion for him to sit down. It’s almost comical how easily he complies with your wishes, just how he always has during the private streams.

You really do have him wrapped around your little finger.

Wonwoo pushes his chair forward a bit, but not too much so he wouldn’t crowd you. He clears his throat before telling his TA she can come in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Wonwoo’s smile is too pretty and too casual for your liking. “Not at all.”

So you do what any other rational person would do.

You start to undo his pants.

Wonwoo is always good at keeping a poker face, but you’ve observed him long enough to know when he’s starting to get flustered. The edges of his mouth tighten and his eyes get this look in them. It makes you lick your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Somehow, you manage to get his cock out of his pants without making too much noise. You find it kind of cute how Wonwoo is acting like he’s unaffected. However, his hard, twitching cock says otherwise. It’s so big and thick, and looks ten times prettier in person.

You lick your lips before you wrap them around the big mushroom top, gently swirling your tongue around to nurture the head. You’re looking up at him, holding back a smirk. He keeps talking with his TA about lesson plans and other shit you don’t really care about. How can you when you finally have his cock in your hands and mouth like you’ve always wanted?

Wonwoo covers a moan with a cough when you take the rest of him into your mouth. Well as much as you can, anyway. They say the camera adds ten pounds, but it didn’t do his pretty cock any justice. You can barely fit half of him in your mouth.

That doesn’t stop you from sucking his dick like a lollipop. It’s heavy against your tongue, weighing it down with the sweet, opaque drops of precum. Wonwoo is surprisingly good at not making any noise, but you can tell he’s close when he starts to carefully thrust up into your mouth, forcing you to take him a little deeper.

You speed up your movements as much as you can without making any actual noise, hollowing your cheeks as you do.

“Are you okay?” That stupid TA of his asks. “You look a little flushed.”

“Just fine.” He grits out with a tense smile. “We should probably wrap up now.”

You hear the rustling of papers just as Wonwoo starts twitching in your mouth. The soft whine you let out feels like a hot rubber band around his cock.

“Lock the door on your way out.” Now your professor sounds like he’s in pain, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Okay?” His TA sounds confused. “But are you sure you’re—?”

“Just go.” He growls, and in the next second you hear the door slam shut.

You almost laugh, but when you see Wonwoo’s thighs clenching you prepare yourself to swallow every last fit of cum he has for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch wildly before ropes of hot, salty cum shoot down your throat. He always comes a lot, but you overestimate your ability to swallow it all. Some of this spills out of the edges of your mouth as Wonwoo lets out a loud moan.

When you pull away, he grips your arm and helps you up so you’re face to face with him. He looks so good, sweaty and flushed from his orgasm. Wonwoo’s thumb wipes the excess cum from your chin before shoving his sticky finger in your mouth. You happily lick his tongue clean, making sure to moan wantonly while you do so.

Wonwoo picks you up easily and settles you on the edge of his desk. His eyes are dark and hungry as he put his hands on either side of your thighs. “Such a fucking tease, kitten. What would you have done if she caught us?”

You boldly smirk at him, feeling your arousal drip out of you and spill on to his desk. “No one would believe her anyway. Everyone knows sweet, respectful Professor Jeon would never fuck a student.”

That’s all it takes for him to grip the front of your flimsy t-shirt and literally rip it off of you. The cold air hits your bare tits, and you can’t stop the surprised gasp that you let out.

“No bra and no panties?” Wonwoo growls, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Were you planning on seeing that boy tonight?”

You bite your lip and smirk. Maybe you would let Soonyoung off the hook sooner than planned. “So what if I was? You have your TA to keep you company after hours, no?”

Wonwoo growls a bit before he lifts your skirt enough to expose your dripping cunt. He licks his lips when he sees that your sweet nectar is staining his desk. He gently moves to rub your folds before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. You whine loudly, hips thrusting upward. He repeats his actions until you’re literally trembling against him.

“Such a bad girl.” Wonwoo says as he start to rub your cunt to ease the stings of his slaps. “But let me make something clear to you, kitten. I make the rules here.”

Before you can think to protest, Wonwoo shoves his fingers inside you, knuckle deep. You can only moan and grind into his hand as he curls them expertly against your sweet spot. His actions almost have you screaming, cunt clamping down on his relentless digits. He pulls out his fingers from your needy hole with a wet pop just before you can allow yourself to fall into true bliss.

Wonwoo smirks when you let out a bratty whine. He loved every second of it. His bratty princess. “Your pussy is so greedy, baby. Sucking my fingers in and not wanting to let go.”

You might feel embarrassed, but Wonwoo drops to his knees and smashes his face into your hot cunt. He smirks against you when you let out the sexiest moan he’s ever heard. Immediately, he shoves his tongue inside you and swirls it around slowly, licking up every drop of your juices.

Wonwoo can’t help but moan at how good you taste. Fuck. He knew you would taste like heaven, and it feels wrong that he’s deprived himself of you for so long. This all feels like a dream to him.

All you can do is whimper and mewl as you grind your cunt into his face. You let out a broken whimper as you feel your climax approaching. “Professor!”

Wonwoo pulls away from your cunt, smirking when you whine. “Uh, uh, kitten. It’s Wonwoo. Say my name.”

He groans when he sees your fluttering hole clench around nothing, and again he dives in like a madman. This time he shoves his fingers inside of you, needing you to come on his tongue. All it takes is a few licks and pump of his fingers for you to close your legs around his head and orgasm with a shout of his name.

“Wonwoo!”

Fuck. He’ll never get over hearing you moan his name. At this point he doesn’t care if the dean himself hears you. He won’t stop until he stuffs you full of his cum.

You can only watch as he tugs off his clothes, appreciating how good his body looks in person. Wonwoo stalks towards you and rubs your cunt a little, mean smirk on his face. You pout at him with a low whine and wrap your thighs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be mean like you usually are.”

His other hand moves around your body to roughly knead at the swell of your ass, pushing you against his fingers. You mewl softly, fluttering your eyelashes bat him as you look at him with puppy dog eyes that you know he won’t deny.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He growls suddenly shoving his slick coated fingers past your lips to shut you up.

Your tongue feels heavy as you twirl the tip around the pads of his fingers, hands scratching at his chest. A low groan rumbles in his broad chest as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Only good girls get fucked, kitten. Remember that.”

Before you can say something bratty as is your custom, the words on the tip of your tongue when you feel the tip of his cock grinding against your wet entrance. It makes your mind go blank with need.

Wonwoo’s fingers slips out of your mouth and settle on your hips to keep you still. “Your little cunt is so wet, all for this fucking cock, huh?”

You nod fervently, mewling loudly as he pushed in slowly. The stretch burns, but also feels so fucking good. You feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock, but Wonwoo isn’t satisfied with only your mewls and whimpers. Even as he’s fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, he’s thrusting painfully slow, dragging his hard cock along your walls torturously.

“Don’t stay quiet, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

Your whine makes him throb inside you. “I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Just fuck me already.”

“What a whiny little brat.” Wonwoo smirks as his hands move up your body to pinch your nipples. “So fucking cute.” His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the feeling of your pussy struggling to fit his whole length.

“Fuck! Wonwoo!” You moan when he starts to thrust into you.

You can only whimper and gasp as his big cock rams into you at an unrelenting pace. It’s almost too much, but you quickly learn that your nerdy English professor is insatiable. His palms trail down to your thighs until he has your trembling legs pushed up against your chest. This new position makes him fuck you deeper, and by now you’re babbling under him, head thrown back and incomprehensible moans on your lips.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as he continues to hit the spongy spot inside you.

Your thighs are quivering from how hard he’s fucking you, but you love it. All you can focus on his how the cook in your stomach is on the verge of snapping.

Wonwoo groans at the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock. He pulls back a bit, watching in awe as the base of his cock gets coated in a thin white ring of cream. A broken moan tears from his throat as his cock starts to twitch and throb inside you. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

All you can do is nod stupidly as he lets out another groan from how tightly your pussy is. “Good girl.”

It only takes one more snap of Wonwoo’s hips for you to come undone and coat his cock with your cream. He moans along with you, hips still thrusting to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your glassy eyes stare up at him in your afterglow and you wonder if it’s the mind numbing orgasm singing through your veins or if Wonwoo has always looked so ethereal. 

“Fuck, kitten. All this for me? How cute.”

You can only whine pathetically when you realize Wonwoo is talking about the wet squelch that’s filling his office when his cock slams in your pussy. A string of broken whimpers tumble past your lips at how he’s pounding into your overstimulated cunt.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He breathes out heavily.

From his sloppy thrusts, you can tell me close. It makes you grin and purposely clench down on him. “Fill me up, professor.”

He thinks you’re kidding until you push away the hands that are still holding on to your legs. You stealthily wrap them around his waist so he won’t pull out. Wonwoo moans, unable to hold back his orgasm. You both moan as he dumps his cum into you, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

He slowly lets you go, and just as you think you’re done. Wonwoo flips you over so you’re on your stomach and bent over his desk. He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cute little pussy.

You lay pliant and silent as Wonwoo folds your skirt up, his big hands kneading the globes of your ass in a gentle circle. Being the inpatient brat that you are, you wiggle your hips back until you bump against his damp cock. Wonwoo lets you rut your ass against his crotch for friction until he stills your hips with a click of his tongue. “So impatient, baby.”

“Only for you, babe.”

Wonwoo groans and spreads one ass cheek to the side and exposing your messy cunt to the air. You’re so pretty and wet for him, hole fluttering and glossy with your mixed release.

“Want me to fill your tight little cunt again?” Wonwoo asks patronizingly as he nudges the head of his cock between your wet folds.

You smirk against the cool wood of his desk. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to.”

Wonwoo can’t be angry when you arch your ass further against him in invitation. Not when he knows your words are true. Also, he finds it increasingly difficult to refuse you. His fingers curl around your waist and your body down his desk until he impales your little pussy on his cock. The stretch is painstakingly slow, forcing you to feel every inch, ridge,and vein dragging along your walls.

“Oh!” You moan wantonly. “Fuck me.”

“Look how well you take me. If only you would’ve kept your attention on me, I would’ve been nicer.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, but you don’t fucking care. His big cock feels too good that it’s all you can think about.

Wonwoo groans in approval, watching the way your pussy expands as he draws back. He’s obsessed with the way your cunt sucks him in nice and tight as he plunges back into you. Being the insatiable little brat that you are. You start you bounce yourself back on his cock.

“Kitten.” He says through a strained moan. “What did I tell you—?”

His reprimand is cut off with a sharp grunt, his hips stuttering while you tremble and frantically fuck your cunt on his cock at a quick pace, the pleasure coiling in your lower belly faster than before. He smirks and decides to match your pace until you can’t take it anymore.

“So wet and perfect for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Wonwoo start to slam into your spot at a brutal pace. The loud squelching from your pussy and your moans is all you can hear. It’s almost a miracle that no one has come to his office from all the noise you’re making.

“But I think.” Wonwoo grunts as the tip of his cock ventured deep into your cunt, intoxicating him with your tightness. “My bratty princess still needs to be taught a lesson.”

His deeps voice makes you shudder, and when you sink your nails into the hard woods, you feel large palms cover your smaller hands. Wonwoo links your fingers together before he starts pounding into you once again. He groans at the feeling of your hot cunt clenching down on him. So perfect and tight.

He fucks into you roughly until you’re wrapped around him so tightly that he can barely move. Wonwoo can tell that he’s fucked you stupid because all you can do is whine and moan about how big he is. It’s nonsensical babbling that doesn’t really make sense, but he loves every bit of it. All it takes is for you to cream on his cock for his own orgasm to hit. Your spasming walls make him thrust deeply into you, fucking his cum back into your walls relentlessly.

Once he can’t handle the overstimulation he gently pulls out of your sensitive cunt. You mewl softly, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is on the verge of exploding. He gently rubs his thumbs against the back of your hands before pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

“Come on, baby.” He says gently as pulls you up from his desk. “Let’s get you home.”

You’re not sure when you fall into an almost domestic routine with Wonwoo, but you’re too busy enjoying the bliss of fucking him to care. A giddy feeling blooms in your chest when you’re leaving your part-time job for the night and see your professor's sleek black car waiting for you. No matter how many times he’s waited for you, the warm feeling never dulls.

Within minutes of getting into his car, your back is brushing up against the steering wheel as you sit on Wonwoo’s lap. By now you’ve taken off your jeans and are only wearing an oversized sweatshirt that originally belonged to him. Of course, you’re also wearing the pair of lacy panties that he bought for you a while back.

“Fuck, kitten.” Wonwoo licks his lips as he lifts the material covering your clothed cunt. His cock twitches when he sees that the fabric is wet. “Did you know I was coming?”

The grin you give him makes him want to ruin you. “I was hoping you would.”

You’re so needy, but he loves it. And now he’s going to ruin you all over again.

Wonwoo loves the pretty little sounds you let out as you start to grind into his clothed cock. “You’re acting so needy. Does that mean you’re gonna behave tonight?”

You give him an impish grin and shake your head. It would be a cold day in hell if you were ever to be pliant for him. Wonwoo growls lowly, and before you know it, he’s pulling out his cock and dragging you up and down the length of it. “You feel that? It’s all for you, baby.”

Being the impatient brat that you are, you don’t wait for him to give you permission to sink down on to his cock and start bouncing on it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear right in front of you. His fat cock is stretching you out so much, and no matter how many times you’ve fucked already, you’re still not used to it.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight.”

You let out a loud whine when Wonwoo starts to thrust up into you. All you can do is moan his name as your pussy spasms and clenched down on him as he grips your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust.

The sound of skin slapping fills the car and all you can think about is how good you feel. It doesn’t matter that your arousal is leaking down to his balls and staining his pants. Your hot cunt feels too good. Wonwoo moves his hand down to toy with your clit, thumb pressing into it a bit as he starts rhythmically rubbing it with his thrusts.

Wanton moans spill from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally come, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load into you.

As usual, Wonwoo keeps fucking into your wet walls, eager to fuck his cum back inside you. Your mixed release seeps down to the driver seat, but that’s the least of Wonwoo’s worries. He pounds into you harder, your cunt practically swollen now by how hard he’s fucking into you.

Finally, he slows his movement before completely stopping. He makes no move to detach from you.

“Will you spend the night with me?”

He asks so shyly and cutely that you can’t deny him. It’s not like you were going to anyway.

“When am I gonna get fucked on cam?” You read the chat with a giggle.

“I don’t know.” You said as you smirk at the man behind the camera. “Whenever my boyfriend stops being so camera shy.”

Wonwoo bites his lip, smirking as you took off your bra. If it’s something you wanted, if course he would do it.

Because you’re his favorite.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[girlfromthecrypt]

Note: This is merely a pitch introduction post. Work on this IF will only properly start once Such Happy Campers is complete. A demo is not imminent. The working title is Reggie on the Run, but will most likely be changed.*

Story: You, an individual only known as Reggie Reese, are a criminal in the late 1800s. You find yourself stuck in a jail in Yellowhill, Letitia, where you are to be tried for your transgressions. Fortunately for you, a member of a prolific and feared local gang is brought in the same day. When the outlaw’s associates swoop in to rescue them, you too are given another chance at freedom. Before you know it, you are inducted into the strange and unusual band, most of whom appear to possess supernatural abilities.

Only, you were never exactly normal either…

Play as Reggie Reese (based on your choice of gender, this can either be “Regina”, “Reginald”, or simply “Reggie”, if you’re not one for the binaries)

Choose from four possible backgrounds that also determine the cause for your arrest! Play as a violent drunk, a highwayman or thief. More backgrounds may be added later

You have telepathic powers! Yay! Now, how to use that to get money…

Pick and name a horse from a selection of various breeds and personalities, bond with and care for it!

Face horrors beyond comprehension, and possibly end up saving the world

redeem yourself or become worse

Inspirations: Blood Meridian, Butcher’s Crossing, Red Dead Redemption 2, Lonesome Dove, and of course the actual Old West.

The Cast:

“Doc” — The Leader: You don’t know his real name. You don’t know where he came from. There are whispers about him having escaped from an exploitative freak show, though he’s certainly not forthcoming with any information. The one thing you do know is that he saved your life.

Age: 42

Power: Healing

Personality: Polite and kind (at least at first glance). Well-read and highly intelligent, idealistic.

Romanceable: Yes, for MCs of all genders.

Horse: Silksong, a palomino Mustang.

Isaiah Wilder — The Berserker: A behemoth of a man who’s draw is as quick and deadly as his fists. You have never encountered anyone as bloodthirsty or as dogged as him. He ensures people fear the gang, and should intimidation prove insufficient, he’ll delight in mending that. 

Age: 37

Power: Superhuman strength and zombie-like constitution

Personality: Caring to the gang, absolutely heartless to everyone else. Brutal, cunning.

Romanceable: Yes, for female MCs (why you’d want to romance a literal monster is your deal)

Horse: Black Phillip, a black Missouri Foxtrotter.

Margaret Malloy — The Black Widow: Thrice married, thrice widowed. Her husbands have a tendency to throw themselves off of cliffs, it seems. What exactly she’s hiding behind her ready smile is for her to know and you to find out… at your own peril, that is. She often acts as a decoy for the gang.

Age: 33

Power: Persuasion

Personality: Harmoniously cheerful and sweet, with a love for all things shiny. 

Romanceable: Yes, for male and male-presenting MCs (you’ve been warned)

Horse: Freckle, a Leopard Appaloosa.

Hilda Heinrichs — The One Who Dances in the Creek: She’s a strange, strange woman. Perhaps the strangest you’ve ever met. A former prostitute, she fell in with Doc after he treated a gunshot wound she sustained after attempting to steal from a suitor. Oftentimes, she’s off in another world— literally.

Age: 30

Power: Spectral awareness

Personality: Hard to grasp. Her temper changes at the drop of a hat, like she’s a force of nature. But she’ll happily entertain the others by playing her banjo.

Romanceable: Yes, for MCs of all genders

Horse: Virginia, a white Shire.

Francisco “Fran” Perez — The Gambler: He doesn’t talk much, barely at all, really. Maybe he doesn’t like you… or maybe he simply prefers the quiet. He’s eerily good at gambling, and even better at cheating people out of their money. His abilities are invaluable to the gang; he sniffs out most of their jobs for them.

Age: 26, the youngest of the gang

Power: Precognition

Personality: Calm, quiet, wary of strangers. Funny guy, once you get to know him.

Romanceable: Yes, for MCs of all genders

Horse: Cielo, a brown and white Pinto with striking blue eyes.

The Strange Lady— ??: She hangs around a lot. You don’t know what to make of her.

Age: ??

Power: ??

Personality: Confusing.

Romanceable: No

*MC is gender-selectable, but has a locked-in name. The canon reason for this is that MC’s name, Reggie Reese, is an alias, and that MC keeps their true name a secret (at least from the public). The game is set in a largely fictionalized version of the Wild West. There are a great many parallels to actual historical events, but to avoid writing about still-existent locations and organizations (among other things), I have taken some liberties with worldbuilding. Also, it’s fun to pick fictional town and state names, for example Letitia and Yellowhill. 

TW: gore, discussions of trauma, ptsd, c-ptsd, mentions of SA and related trauma, mentions of period-typical prejudice and sexism, morally gray characters depending on how you play, downright homicidal characters, sex work. 

Dividers by @plum98

So. What y'all think?

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: husband! Tom Riddle x fem! wife! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, kinda public sex but there’s no one around, fluff!!, kinda domestic and soft, inaccurate bc there’s no way sexy two pieces existed back in the 1950’s💀, once again my horrible knowledge of basic grammar

A/n: really felt like writing lil something for hubby Tom🥰 Sorry for disappearing for such a long period, I have lots of cool ideas and drafts but my adhd never allows me to finish any on them;( Anyways, wish you a very pleasant reading and hope you enjoy💖

It was a sultry sunny day, the kind you experience in the middle of September, when calendar summer is already gone but the sun still gladdened people with last warm days.

It took you only a few days of bothering and fake accusation of not loving you to convince your husband Tom to finally take a day off from his job at ‘Borgin and Burkes’ and go have some fun together on a beach. He was grumpy and pouty for the first half an hour, but then seemed to accept his fate, indulging your little whims and wishes.

You didn’t manage to talk him into taking a swim together, no matter how hard you tried, but Tom did, eventually, took his shoes off and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers, standing ankles-deep into warm sea water, watching you dive and dork around in salty waves.

You were currently laying on your side on a soft picknick blanket facing Tom, left arm bent in elbow, head propped up on your hand, your eyes lazily wandering all over your husband’s side profile. He was laying on his back right next to you, arms thrown behind his head, nape resting on his palms.

Tom had changed. The juvenile plushness was long gone from his cheeks, instead leaving place for his sharp jawline and protuberant cheekbones. His hair was a slightest bit longer than it used to be during your school years, framing his pale face in dark silky waves. You noticed how he was nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip ever so slightly - a telltale sign that Tom was thinking intensely about something faraway. You fought the urge to trace the outline of his nose with gentle fingertips, knowing perfectly well how grouchy and whiny he’ll get at this action.

Your eyes wandered lower, taking in his outfit - even despite the scorching sun and high air temperature Tom refused to ditch his usual suit trousers and, this time, baby-blue shirt - instead opting to undo quite a few buttons, allowing a generous view on his pale chest.

A sudden idea visited your mind so you sat up from your semi-lying position, throwing one leg over Tom’s hips, settling yourself atop his pelvis comfortably. Your nimble fingers ran up his chest, caressing exposed areas of his skin with tender touches, all the way to his face, cradling it softly in your hands; you leaned down to scatter small kisses all over his cheeks, nose and lips.

- Y/n, what are you doing? - Tom chided you softly, the corners of his lips tugging up in slightest of smiles, even though it was pretty obvious that he was unpleased with you interrupting his thoughts.

- Trying to seduce you, - you replied stoically, not a hint of embarrassment nor unease could be heard in your purring voice.

- Right here? - Tom asked, you could hear his voice rising just a slightest bit, giving out his astonishment.

- Yeah, why not? - you said offhandedly, your lips stretching in a cheeky smile, gazing down at your husband mischievously.

- What if someone sees us? - Tom rose yet another question, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows at you.

You made a show of looking around the deserted beach, not spotting a single soul being around; not only this place was secluded by dangerously high cliffs, making it extremely hard for reaching, but also the fact that it was Wednesday - a middle of a working week - reduced chances of anyone being around to zero.

You brought your sight back to Tom, shrugging your shoulders theatrically:

- I can’t see nor hear anyone, Tommy. - one of your hands reached behind your back, gripping on the straps of your two-piece swimming suit, tugging on it slowly, un-doing the tight knot. You didn’t bother to untie the second knot on your neck, instead deciding to pull the bra off over your head, throwing it teasingly on top of your husband’s chest. - I think you’re just being a buzzkill that you are, Riddle.

You made an accent on the last word, watching Tom’s eyes wander to your now exposed tits, noticing your hardened from still unpleasantly damp fabric of your bra nipples. You cupped your breasts, pinching your nubs with thumbs and index fingers, all while slightly rocking your hips against Tom’s clothed groin, sighing erotically at the slight friction it created against your clit.

You repeated your movements a few more times, circling and swaying your hips so sensually, putting more pressure into your thrusts, increasing a pleasant feeling against both your sexes. You peeked down at Tom through your eyelashes, noting the way his chiseled jaw clenched, his dark eyes never leaving your perfect body.

You smiled widely at his hungry stare, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his chopped from salty sea wind lips - he kissed you back almost immediately. Tom’s hands came from under his nape, picking your bra from his chest and tossing it aside before coming to rest on your waist, thumbs pressing gentle circles into your heated skin.

His slim fingers wandered all over your body, eventually reaching your plushy thighs - rough fingertips glided up and down your skin, rising herds of goosebumps in their wake, stopping on your ass, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel Tom’s dick hardening at your simple manipulations, his bulge growing noticeably bigger in his pants, rubbing against your soft ass with every smallest move you made. You didn’t bother taking Tom’s trousers off, just undoing his zipper and pulling his semi-hard dick out of his underwear. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, pumping it slowly a few times, your eyes never breaking an eye contact.

You straightened up, standing on your knees; you struggled quite a bit while taking off your bottoms, since this position wasn’t the most comfortable. You heard Tom muttering quiet ‘oh god’ under his breath in feigned annoyance, obviously teasing you, for which you lightly smacked him on the chest.

Once done and completely naked you slightly scooted forward so that your awaiting pussy was hovering right above Tom’s heavy cock. You gave him a few more jerks before leading it to your slicked folds, sliding them along his throbbing shaft, properly slicking him up with your juices. After a few more moments you aligned his swollen tip with your pulsing entrance, lowering your hips slowly, gently sinking onto his length. A satisfied sigh left both of you once Tom was fully buried inside of your quivering warmth, your ass pressed tightly against his thighs.

His broad hands came to rest on the swell of your hips, molding and playing with soft flesh in between his long fingers. You let out a small whimper as you could feel Tom’s cock stuffing you full, his tip was pressed against your cervix so deliciously, all along with a pleasant stretch on your plushy walls.

You rose your hips carefully, still adjusting to your current position, sliding off half of his length, and sank back down onto his cock, providing such desired friction. You watched his adam’s apple bob as Tom swallowed heavily, and you repeated your actions a few more times, until you found a comfortable rhythm, impaling yourself over and over again on his steady cock.

Your hands came to rest on Tom’s chest, supporting yourself against his body, back arching at the pleasant feeling of his dick grazing all the right spots inside of your throbbing pussy. Soft moans spilled out of your lips as one of Tom’s hands went down to play with your clit, skillfully circling and massaging swollen nub with the tips of his fingers. Your head lolled back, a loud cry of your husband’s name rolled off your tongue as you quickened the pace of your thrusts, rocking against him so passionately.

Tom rested one hand on your nape, putting a bit of pressure into his touch, indicating for you to lean down. You did so, lowering your torso until your chest was pressed flush against his; your lips found his in a matter of moments, connecting in a fervid kiss, his tongue slithering into your mouth, making you gasp in surprise.

Your loud moan was swallowed by Tom’s greedy mouth as he unexpectedly thrusted his hips up into your perfect squelching pussy from underneath; his free hand was gripping onto your waist tightly, fixating you into this position. You broke your kiss, burying your flushed face into the crook of his neck as his hips picked up a quick pace, fucking your pussy raw with his throbbing cock.

- Yeah? You like that, you little minx? - Tom rasped into your ear, his lips brushed against your ear shell, making you tremble slightly. You nodded your head ‘yes’ fervently, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over the side of his neck.

- I love it so much, Tommy. Please, don’t stop, please, please, - you babbled out incoherently, your mind hazed and barely working from intense pleasure rolling through your body in waves.

Tom slid his hand from your nape and along your spine, all the way down to your jiggly ass, especially relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh with his fingers. The hard, smooth strokes of his cock inside your slicked pussy caused ecstasy to well up inside you, your body prickling, almost painfully, in foretaste of a nearing orgasm.

Your hands grabbed on Tom’s biceps, you could feel his muscles flexing underneath your touch. You bit down onto his shoulder, eliciting a quiet hiss from the man underneath you, knowing how much he disliked when you left hickeys in such obvious places. His hand left your waist to slide in between your pressed bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles onto it, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

- Tom, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, please don’t stop, - you mumbled into his skin, hot and bothered, and you felt him nod at your words, his hips picking up faster pace, snapping loudly against your pliant body.

White stars hit your vision, as you felt your orgasm rippling through your trembling form, setting every nerve in your body on fire in intense pleasure. You didn’t register all the moans and pleadings slipping past your lips as you babbled in your euphoria, your quivering pussy along with dirty words only brought Tom closer to his own release.

Tom followed you soon enough, cumming with a groan and a low moan of your name, dumping his thick load deep inside of you. You laid rigid atop him, both of you trying to catch your breaths, listening to the soft whisper of wind and sea. Surprisingly, Tom was the one who broke the comfortable silence:

- A few more moments and I’d go deaf on one ear, - Tom commented and you didn’t understand what he was talking about. It took you a few moments to realize that all this time you were moaning and screaming uncontrollably mere centimeters away from his ear, surely causing a lot of discomfort, especially knowing how sensitive man was to any sort of noises.

You chuckle airily, muttering quiet ‘sorry, darling’ under your breath, your hand going up to comb your fingers through his silky, now knotted, hair, massaging his scalp lovingly.

Dragging Tom all the way here was definitely a good decision.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is basically the only thing that keeps writers creating new content

[sightofsea]

prompt number 25 for those good omens bitches please AND thank you

thank you so much!!! tried to go for angst but failed. ah well, c'est la vie. it's the spirit of the thing.

25. “It hurts…” “what?” “Loving someone who doesn’t love you…”

“Well it does hurt, is the thing," Crowley says, restarting an argument that had been born outside the theater, raised on the way to the restaurant, and had been on a quick gap year over canapés.

Aziraphale stops fussing with the sleeves of his coat. “What?” 

“Loving someone who doesn’t love you, it hurts," Crowley clarifies. 

Aziraphale goes back to fussing. "Yes, I suppose it does," he says, then shakes his arms out. Perfect. "But I don't see what that has to do with how dreadful that production of Cyrano was."

Crowley holds the door open for him, and all the warm air inside the restaurant is quickly replaced with a brisk chill that bites the nostrils. Aziraphale says a quick thank you, and Crowley goes back to arguing. He walks along with a small jump in his step, shoulders to his ears as if trying to lift himself off the sidewalk. Aziraphale loops an arm around the demon's elbow, to keep him grounded.

"I'm just saying," Crowley says. "I'm all for criticism. Love criticism, me, but I don't think he was being that overdramatic. It really does feel like that sometimes."

"He was wailing!" Aziraphale argues back. "Rending his garments, throwing himself at the walls--I'm just saying, there's something to a subtle performance."

"Sub--subtle performance?" Crowley lets that percolate in delighted disbelief. "Bit rich coming from you."

Aziraphale's jaw pops open, feet's coming to a standstill, and he unhooks himself from Crowley's arm. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks. It's intended to come off as mildly offended, but lilts a little to the left. Crowley stares at him, and Aziraphale tuts. "Oh...!" He stomps back up to Crowley and hooks their arms together again, bringing them back to their familiar trot. "That is besides the point."

"No it's not," Crowley says. "You love drama. You love those books where they go on in the hillside, waving poetic and, and diving off of cliffs."

"Yes, but that's books," Aziraphale says. "That's fiction in its purest form. This is performance, it must have some grounding in reality. You can't honestly say you've ever acted like that in the name of unrequited love."

Crowley hums, and is quiet for a few moments. They turn into a nearby park, and everybody considered mugging the flash bastard and his posh twat boyfriend suddenly find their wallets heavier and their thoughts elsewhere.

"Maybe I have," Crowley says, all mumbled and high pitched. "Who's to say?"

Aziraphale does a double take. "Really?" Crowley nods, looking straight ahead. Aziraphale hesitantly points to himself. "Over...?"

It's now Crowley's turn to do a double take. "Wh--no, over Napoleon. Yes, over you!"

"Oh, well that makes me feel terrible!" laments Aziraphale, who is beginning to feel something rise up within him that he's too proud to admit to but most would call 'flattered'. "That you did all that screaming and wailing over me."

Crowley shifts as if trying to shed his skin. "Mm."

"All that--all that rending of garments and throwing yourself about." Aziraphale puts his free hand on Crowley's hooked arm. He tuts. "And over me."

Crowley lets put a creaking sound of embarrassment, and tries to wave away his confession with his free hand. "Okay, that's not--"

"That you were overcome by...by such enormous affection and love," Aziraphale continues, near giddy with it now. "For me!"

Crowley stares at him, deadpan. "You're enjoying this."

"I'm not," lies Aziraphale. He schools his face as best he can--which is to say, quite portly. "I'm feeling...quite guilty."

"That's not your guilty face," Crowley says. "That's your...that's a different face. A smug face."

"Not smug," says Aziraphale, smugly.

"Delighted, then."

Aziraphale tuts, shaking his head. "Not in the least. I'm quite overcome with agony, as I imagine you were." Crowley hums in disbelief. "Again, over me."

"Alright, alright," says Crowley, who does his best to gesture wildly with one arm lovingly held captive. "I take it back. I take it all back. There was no wailing or garment rending or any of that. I was perfectly fine with it." He expects a response to come. When it doesn't, he turns to see Aziraphale looking distinctly put out. Something seizes in Crowley's chest, and the words come out before his brain can bar the door. "Okay, I screamed at a tree once about it. Does that satisfy you?"

"Mm," says Aziraphale, still displeased.

"Maybe had a...good cry, or three," admits Crowley.

Aziraphale softens. "Oh, did you really?" he asks, curiosity sliding from smug to concerned.

Crowley bristles at the genuine emotion. "Oh, what, and you didn't?" he asks defensively.

"No, I have," says Aziraphale, soberly. He blinks up at Crowley before surveying the landscape, no doubt imagining lonely nights and cold mornings scattered over many the millennia. Crowley imagines them as well.

"You...so...yeah," he says. He supposes he's won the argument, but it doesn't feel like it. "We both..."

"We've both suffered over each other," Aziraphale says. His voice is heavy with guilt, and not for the first time, the two of them think of the same thing. 

Crowley distinctly remembers the slam of the bookshop door, and winces at it. Sounds get clogged in the back of his throat. "Y-Yeah," he says. They walk along another few steps, before stopping. "Not...not any more, though," Crowley adds, half statement and half question. He brings his free hand over Aziraphale's.

Aziraphale squeezes his arm lightly and smiles. "No," he whispers. "Not any more."

Crowley smiles back--because it's dark and there's plausible deniability, because he's in love, who's to say--and moves to cup Aziraphale's face. Aziraphale's already ahead of him. The kiss to short, soft, and simple--a reassurance, more than a declaration. For a moment, there's a break in the chill night air, and all is warm.

They part, and continue their walk in tandem. "You still think the play was shit though, don't you?" Crowley asks.

"Not in so many words," Aziraphale admonishes, which is to say, yes.

[strawbeelemonade]

Would it be possible for you to do romantic headcanons but for gwen stacy?

of course you can! i had fun with these >:) my girl is not getting enough love,,, she's literally the silly,,,

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS: Gwen stacy

why is it so hard to find gwen stacy gifs >:( had to go aHSCROUNGING

🕷 - she’d flirt with you as spider woman.

🕷 - maybe it’s the mask, but she finds it easier to say what she’s thinking when you can't see her face.

🕷 - just like Miles, she deepens her voice but she constantly slips out of it because!! She forgets and you give her butterflies!!

🕷 - she’d feel a bit silly, assure her that you think its cute for me please!

🕷 - if there’s ever a time that you need rescuing she will BE THERE

🕷 - that’s her moment. she is WAY TOO READY.

🕷 - she’s so ready in fact that she might end up jumping the gun a bit when nothing all that serious happens…

🕷 - “WOAH-! Easy there- That was a close one… wouldn’t want you Getting hurt. ahah.."

🕷 - no Gwen 😭 they looked both ways before stepping out in to the road when no cars were coming please.

🕷 - are you really complaining though? you're in spider woman’s arms! cmon.

🕷 - if there’s ever a moment something really happens, then all other thoughts leave her head as she pivots around mid swing and launches herself to catch you.

🕷 - she’ll have you by your waist by one hand, her super strength and sticky grip will keep you on her hip securely, rest assured. slowing both of your descents to a screeching halt with a single strand of webbing.

🕷 - if you wrap your arms around her neck she will be on cloud 9

🕷 - you find yourself slipping away from social situations more and more

🕷 - it doesn’t matter where you both are or what your doing, if she gets a hold of you she’ll start pulling you to the nearest exit or window, cmon, she knows a great spot.

🕷 - she can sit and talk to you for hours, listening to your voice makes her physically decompress.

🕷 - "what kind of spray do you use..? its really nice."

🕷 - when your feet meet the floor she’ll hold you steady if you stumble

🕷 - she’s got you, she won’t let you fall ever again. She promises you that.

🕷 - your time with her after is incredibly brief, because pretty soon the police are pulling up nearby and that means she's gotta run.

🕷 - she tries to lift her hand off of you, but her instincts are telling her not to let you go, so she sticks HAGSAHGSAGHSV

🕷 - h... hang on give her a second...

🕷 - sorry! its gonna feel like ripping duct tape off your bare skin.

🕷 - she just!... She doesn't know when shes gonna get to see you again.

🕷 - she hasn't even asked your name, she has couple dozen things lined up to ask you.

🕷 - are you ok? who are you?? are you into blondes??

🕷 - but she's running out of time, and the police are drawing closer

🕷 - so she thinks fast, and she offers to give you her number.

🕷 - what, why? oh, yknow... in case anything else happens. definetely just that.

🕷 - when you accept she has to reel In her excitement a bit,

🕷 - she tries playing it off she's so cute.

🕷 - right after she punches the last number into your phone she's been spotted. and she flees for her life,

🕷 - you're left standing there breathless.

🕷 - thats the start of how you both met. from then on your worlds begin to revolve around eachother.

🕷 - messages between you both go from alerting her to criminal sightings.

🕷 - too sending her news articles about the crimes she's solved and congratulating her.

🕷 - too memes which spur friendly conversation and eventually offers to meet up.

🕷 - you have her as ’The Muscle’ in your phone. when she catches a glimps of it it makes her go a bit bashful, aw.

🕷 - the closer you both get the less confident she becomes.

🕷 - she’ll tuck her hair behind her ear a for the 4th time within the conversation and she’ll want to throw herself off a cliff LMAO.

🕷 - you leave her feeling so light and giddy. She feels childish for it, but she can’t help it!

🕷 - even her dad notices, which leads to a really… awkward conversation.

🕷 - “so… how’s your, uh, friend?”

🕷 - “Y/N?” She’d sit up quickly at the sound of your name and then realise that friends don’t normally go red In the face when someone bring the other up. “they’re!… fine.”

🕷 - “good! That’s good…”

🕷 - …

🕷 - “…would you… like to invite them over for dinner sometime?”

🕷 - George Stacy sees how happy you make his daughter and he immediately takes a shine to you.

🕷 - he tries to do the whole “whatever you do to my daughter I’ll do to you” schtick

🕷 - but he literally can’t commit, the way that Gwen is looking at you from across the table is indescribable.

🕷 - his heart clenches. Even this early on in meeting you he knows you’re good for her. You make her open up like nothing he’s ever seen. not since they lost Peter.

🕷 - George will end up really caring for you after not too long.

🕷 - he WILL offer to chauffeur you both in his police cruiser for dates. Pls let him, he wants to be useful! he’ll be your guys’ biggest supporter.

🕷 - you’ll know you’ve earned his favour when your standing in the door to their apartment, and just before you both part ways he’ll plants a hand on your shoulder, the other resting on his belt, and tells you in no uncertain terms that if you ever get in any trouble, then you can call him.

🕷 - Gwen will show you her room <3

🕷 - PLS SHES SO SHY HAGHGGHARFSXKYTD

🕷 - she’ll stand in the middle of the floor rubbing her arm as she watches you look around.

🕷 - she’s a cuddler

🕷 - especially when you both sleep beside each other

🕷 - she’ll cling to you in her sleep, tight, like she’s scared you’ll disappear

🕷 - good luck getting out of her arms, especially with her sticky hands.

🕷 - you will find yourself slipping away from social situations more often when you're with her.

🕷 - it doesn’t matter where you both are or what you're doing, if she gets a hold of you she’ll start pulling you to the nearest exit or window, cmon, she knows a great spot.

🕷 - she can sit and talk to you for hours, listening to your voice makes her physically decompress.

🕷 - she feels so calm when you nearby.

🕷 - she'll love it if you run your fingers through her hair.

🕷 - while she's only in a band for a shortwhile, you'd be her biggest supporter.

🕷 - the nights she plays she'll invite you to watch. you're in the front row cheering her on.

🕷 - teenage girls can be a bit mean, so her bandmates might tease her a bit, but she isn't even listening. she'll just be watching youspider.

🕷 - they seemed cool in the movie but just incase.

🕷 - she loves kissing your nose! almost as much as your lips

🕷 - if shes in the mask and there isn't time for a proper kiss she'll gently boop her nose into yours before saying goodbye.

[honeybeefae]

The Way I Hate You (Lucien Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT: HATE FUCK

Summary// He couldn’t stand you. Not in the Spring Court, not in the Night Court, and not in the Mortal Lands either. You and he had helped Feyre escape, and for some reason, Rhysand had sent you both as emissaries to stay with Jurian and Vassa. He obviously wanted to torture him more because even looking at you made him want to jump off a cliff. His hatred for you came to an all-time high when you were alone in the manor, your nails tapping against the spine of a book while he was trying to write. Something in him snapped, and he just needed to show you how much he hated you.

(It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I truly missed it, and you guys as well! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Between the two of us, Eris might have a run for his money with my new-found liking for Lucien ;))

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, hate fuck, rough sex, slapping, fire bondage, degradation, they really hate each other, or do they?

The fire in the grand hearth was roaring as you lounged lazily in the library, legs dangling off the edge of the chair while reading the latest romance novel recommended to you by Vassa. You had lost track of time but from looking at the high moon in the sky, you knew it was quite late. Fortunately, with Jurian and Vassa away on some business, you didn’t have to worry about disturbing them.

However, the one-eyed redhead sitting across from you at the oak desk, flicking through papers at breakneck speed, was another story. Lucien had been a thorn in your side since you had met him. The two of you were constantly at each other’s throats, throwing snide comments and glares at each other whenever possible, so it mattered little to you if you were being too distracting.

You dared to spare a glance at him, the flames from the fire causing light to dance across his golden skin and capture your attention for a moment too long. He looked up and grimaced, his stare full of contempt.

“I know I’m the most handsome man you’ve had the privilege of seeing, but if you could stop ogling me and let me work, I would appreciate it.” Lucien snarked, ignoring how his body reacted to the immediate flush of your cheeks. 

“You most definitely are the most egotistical man I’ve ever met, but fortunately for every other woman on this earth and me, we could find someone much easier on the eyes just by walking down the street.” You clipped back quickly with a sarcastic smile, turning back to focus on your book. His gaze was burning into the side of your head, but you refused to rise to his challenge anymore.

Lucien huffed out an angry breath and went back to his paperwork. The tension in the room was thickening with every tick of the clock behind him, it was as if he could feel it in his bones. You were the very bane of his existence, he hated how much you got under his skin, but what truly drove him wild was how with every passing day, his desire for you grew and grew.

He tried to blame it on the loneliness, the stress from the events going on in the world, anything other than the fact that he could actually be attracted to you, but it was getting harder to deny.

It was making him slowly lose his sanity. Lucien had had plenty of other lovers before, but for whatever reason, you were the one who was causing him the most grief. He wouldn’t compare it to what he had with Jesminda, nothing would ever come around like that for him again nor did he want it to. But there was something there that created an itch that he couldn’t get rid of.

And on the other side of the coin, you were no better. At the beginning of your “relationship,” it was easy to nitpick everything he did. The way his voice sounded, his mean comments whenever you spoke or even looked in his direction, and even the way he walked. It was almost too easy how much you hated him, you could have written entire novels about it. 

But that loathing turned into something deeper and scarier over time. Where you used to sneer at him at dinner you now found yourself admiring how he licked his lips after tasting a new wine, or how large his hands were compared to the silverware. It had your mind and heart scrambling for dominance as you suddenly tried to get close enough to smell his scent or make a sarcastic remark just so he would look at you. 

Whatever had shifted between the two of you was growing every day and you were powerless to stop it. Even Jurian and Vassa had noticed it, both of them making bets on who would strike first though you had no idea. 

However, as the clock continued to tick and you began to innocently tap your nails on the spine of your book, the tension grew to a crescendo. Lucien’s fingers gripped the pen tighter and tighter, his jaw clenching in a mixture of rage and lust before he finally slammed the pen down and sent his papers scattering across the floor below.

“Can you please either stop that incessant tapping or simply leave me the hell alone?” He exploded, rising from his chair with his hands planted firmly on the edges of the desk. You jumped in surprise, confusion flashing across your face before swiftly being replaced with anger. 

“What the fuck is your problem? I’m not doing anything to you, Lucien. Why don’t you leave me the hell alone?” You retorted, tossing your book beside you in preparation for a fight. “I don’t know what’s up your ass but maybe you should go and-”

Before you could finish what was sure to be a very explicit suggestion, he was in front of you in two strides. That russet-colored eye was smoldering as he gripped a fistful of your hair and yanked, hard. You cried out in surprise and tried to shove him off but he was quick to all but ram you into the nearest bookshelf, pinning you between that and his body. 

“You, you are my problem Y/N,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, his lips mere inches from yours. “The way you walk, the way you talk, how every single time I look at you I can’t decide if I want to choke you or fuck you. It’s you.”

Your mind was trying to wrap around everything he just confessed to while your body screamed for more, your gaze flickering between his mouth and his eyes. Was this really happening? Had you fallen asleep while reading or did this man, the man who you equal parts hated and wanted, just admit to feeling just as you did?

His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, waiting for you to flee. However you knew this was a one-time opportunity, that you both just needed to get this out of your systems, and the last thing you were planning on doing was refusing him.

“Why not both?” You breathed out, looking him dead on with a raised brow. “Or does your lackluster performance of emissary duties carry over to the bedroom as well?”

Lucien may have had you pinned but you were the one with the upper hand, his arousal evident as it pressed into your hip. You weren’t going down without a fight and he was going to give you a full-out war.

“Who said anything about a bedroom?” He smirked before flipping you around so that your front was now pressing painfully against the aged books. “Whores like you would be lucky to get a floor.”

Two hands came up the back of your lounging dress and, with less strength than it took to lift a chair, ripped it clear down the middle until it fell to the floor and pooled around your bare feet. You had a flimsy bra and panty set underneath but Lucien got rid of those just as easily, leaving you bare before him.

“So take what you’re given like the good whore I know you are.” He growled into your ear as he grabbed a fistful of your ass, squeezing roughly as he slid down to gather your slickness on the tips of his fingers.  

Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, knowing you were absolutely soaked, while his taunting laugh sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t have the gentle touch of a lover. He knew what he wanted, what you needed, and he took your body like his name was carved into it.

“Ah, fuck!” You hissed when two fingers slammed into you, the hand that had held your hair now coming to roughly turn your face to the side so he could see how he made you feel. 

Lucien curled them and dragged them back out slowly, his eyes closing briefly to memorize every crevice of your walls before he set a fast pace that had you crying out. 

“I’ve barely even started and you are about to cum around my fingers. You really are a desperate thing, aren’t you?” He teased, bending down so that his lips were at the shell of your ear. You glared at him from the side, your breasts aching as he bit down on your lobe. “And here I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

Using his cockiness to your advantage, you had successfully snuck your foot behind his foot and just as he withdrew his fingers for another thrust, you took him off balance and switched your positions. 

“And here I thought foxes were supposed to be smart.” You cooed while cupping him through his pants, licking your lips at the sheer girth and length you could feel. He moaned as you squeezed him tightly, your fingers making quick work of his ties that held him up. 

“At least you’ve got something to work with, little Lucien.” You smiled while watching his pants fall, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was the same color as his skin, with a rosy tip that had already begun to dribble seed, and one of the bigger ones you had seen. He also had a slight happy trail leading down to it, the hair as red as the ones on his head. 

His head fell back against the books as you stroked him slowly, licking the hollow of his throat as he tried and failed to come up with a response. Seeing him melt under your hands was like injecting drugs into your veins and you were quickly forgetting you were supposed to hate the man.

You bit down on his neck at the same time as you tighten your grip around the head of his dick, smearing the cum that had collected there across it, and almost buckled from his needy whisper. 

“Y/N…” He swallowed thickly, grabbing your chin and forcing you to meet his eye. Both of your cheeks were flushed, the room smelt like sex and embers, and you knew this game wasn’t going to last much longer. “If you want to back out, do it now.”

“I-” You started but he shook his head, pushing off the shelf as you took a few steps back. Lucien threw his shirt off and onto the couch, never breaking eye contact as he started to stalk toward you.

A primal thrill made your stomach flip as you continued to back up, the heat from the hearth wrapping around your legs like a snake. It felt like your entire lower half was on fire and when you spared a glance down you realized it wasn’t the hearth…it was actual bands of fire.

Your head shot back up only to find him right in front of you, your back bumping against the desk. “I’m only going to say this once so I need you to listen.” He ordered, his hands gripping your waist so tight that you knew you would bruise. “We do this once and get this out of our system. I’m not going to be gentle, I’m not going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you as you deserve.”

You could feel yourself grow even wetter from his words, your nipples brushing against his chest as you took in a deep breath. 

“This is the only warning I will give you. Take it or leave it.” Lucien growled, the pads of his fingers drumming impatiently against your skin. 

The tendrils of fire tightened around your thighs as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately wanting to know what they would feel like wrapped around your neck. 

You needed to know, hating him be damned.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” You whispered, voice hoarse. Lucien’s nostrils flared at your words, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Don’t disappoint me like the other women you’ve bedded.”

Without any warning he forcefully turned you over and bent you across the desk, the oak groaning from the weight of the two of you as he wrapped a fistful of your hair into his hand. He jerked it sharply, your neck craning backward, and lined himself up with your hole.

“I hate you.” He snarled before thrusting into you in one motion, the two of you letting out moans loud enough to shake the entire house. His cock had your cunt stretching to impossible limits, the burn only adding to your pleasure as he set into a savage pace.

Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, the ink jar spilling across the floor as you grabbed the other edge of the desk. It was biting into your abdomen from the ninety-degree angle but you didn’t complain, your breaths coming out in pants as he grabbed another fistful of your ass before slapping it as hard as he could. 

“Such a fucking, ah-” Lucien groaned, throwing his head back in utter bliss as you sucked him back in greedily. “Whore. Look at how this greedy pussy swallows me, like it was made for it.” 

“I can’t, fuck, please!” You gasped as he hit the spongy spot inside of you, your vision turning white for a brief moment. “Mother above…”

A dark chuckle came from behind you as he zeroed in on that spot, his balls aching from the need to spill his seed inside of you. He could tell you were getting close from how your walls fluttered around him, but he’d be damned if he came first.

“Is the poor little emissary already close?” He taunted, letting go of your hair in favor of shoving your face into the desk sideways. You struggled against his grip, hating how you were losing the upper hand but also loving how he was making your body feel. “Are you gonna cum all over my cock, Y/N? For a man you despise?”

“Fuck you.” You grunted despite your legs spreading wider for him, letting him go deeper. He noticed, of course, and the smirk on his face grew. “I hate you.”

“That’s not what your cunt is saying, pet,” Lucien said as he looked back down at your union, snaking one of his hands underneath your body so he could play with your clit. “It’s practically begging for me.”

You didn’t respond, couldn’t really, because as soon as you opened your mouth he pinched your clit as hard as he could. The mixture of pain and pleasure made a guttural scream rip from your chest, oddly sounding like his name, as an orgasm wrenched throughout your body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chanted as you rose to your tiptoes, your juices coating his cock as well as the floor as wave after wave of rapture flowed from your head to your toe.

Lucien grabbed your waist harshly and made sure to fuck you as hard as he could, the desk scraping across the floor as he followed close behind you. The fire wrapped around your legs grew so hot that you winced, feeling it burn into your skin, but you could care less.

“Take it, little whore.” He roared while spilling inside you, his hair sticking to the sides of his face from the sweat that coated his body. “Oh, Y/N, fuck…”

Even his cum felt like liquid fire, warming you up from the inside out as you came down from the best orgasm you had ever had. Lucien’s heavy breathing slowly came down as you started to wiggle away from the overstimulation, his hand shaking as he slowly pulled out of you.

And although he would never tell you this, he burned the image of your cunt dripping his cum into the back of his mind. It took every ounce of his control not to collect it on his fingers and shove it in your throat. 

You gingerly raised up on your arms, your entire body sore, before turning around to face him directly. Both of you look like you just had the fuck of your lives. Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and your bodies almost glowing from sweat. 

The room was now silent save for the clock that was still ticking. He shamelessly looked you up and down, admiring his handy work, while you did the same. After a few moments, you cleared your throat to get him to look back up at you.

“I suppose that wasn’t the worst time I’ve had in my life.” You mused, looking down at your legs that now had red, raised swirls around them. “Though your form needs some work.”

“I would thank you but like always, I did most of the work.” Lucien grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and standing tall. “It was good enough for a one-time fuck.”

A small laugh bubbled from your chest as you shook your head and walked past him to gather your tattered clothes, hips swaying in temptation. His eye followed like you were his favorite dinner, watching as you began to make your way towards the door. 

When you reached the door handle you stopped and turned to look at him over your shoulder, throwing him a very sultry stare as you said, “Imagine what we could improve with two, fox boy.” 

He inhaled sharply, his dick jumping to attention as he imagined all the different ways he would claim you, as you gave him a wink and left him to his own devices. Lucien ran a hand over his face at the situation as a whole, glancing at the scattered papers, spilled ink, and general mess left behind by you.

He hated you, hated everything about you, and if tonight was any indication…he needed to hate fuck you every day to make sure you knew it. 

And you felt the same way. 

[prettypinkporkchop]

A/n: ARTHRITIS!!!! So, I have multiple things wrong in my body and I have YET to find a story I can relate to. They be like "You ran in the woods together" homie if I could run I would. Anywhore, here's a story for my arthritis people.

Sam Understands

"Just jump. Paul can hold you!" Jared challenged. Your knees were killing you today. It's a bad sick day. You don't even know why you agreed to go cliff diving with the pack and their imprints. You didn't have the heart to tell Paul today, isn't it for you. You fake a smile and then grab Paul's arm. He notices how hesitant you are. "Baby, you too scared?" He whispers in your ear. You shake your head. You're not scared, you're in pain. "I'm not scared." He tries to read your face. "You okay?" He asks. "Mmm. No. I'm hurting really bad." You frown at him.

Him and Sam are the only ones who know your medical issues. "Actually, guys, you can go on without us. I'm going to take y/n on a date." He makes a face at Sam. Sam nods, and Paul grabs your hand, walking away. Behind you, you can hear the boys asking why Paul and you have so much freedom.

Paul has to patrol a lot, but Sam is lenient on your bad days. Especially your at home injections once a week.

You enter your guys' house and collapse on the bed. He grabs your weekly medicine organizer and looks through it, making sure you have taken them every day this week. Once he sees you have, he sets it back down. "I'm sorry you're hurting." He lays down next to you. "You say that every time like it'll change things. I'm okay. There are worse things people live with." You smile at him. He smiles back and then rolls on his side, wrapping an arm around your stomach. He places kisses on your upper arm. "Hang on." You get up and walk to the bathroom.

Hehe. It's time to torture him. He refuses to do anything if you're hurting. But you both gotta... ya know. You decided to play with him this go around.

You change into his favorite lingerie you have. He bought it for you one Valentines Day. You step into the room and notice he had turned off the lamp. You make your way to the bed and crawl under the blanket. His arm goes back around you, and you press yourself against him. He makes a deep, "mph", sound. His hands roam your side, and he feels the lace-y underwear. "Don't do this to me." He groans and starts kissing the side of your neck, letting his hands roam your body, grabbing different places.

He gave in.

Time flew by, the sun is out, and you are on the couch grabbing Paul's arm. He's kneeling in between your legs (no maam) holding your injection. "You ready?" He looks up at you. You're always squeezing and closing your eyes. This shit hurts, and you always bruise at the injection site. "Yes, just get it done."

He presses it firmly against your thigh, and the medicine slowly goes through. The needle clicks out, telling you it's finished. You let go of Paul's arm and then exhale a big sigh. "You did good." He kisses your knee. You nod and then lean back.

He stands up to throw away the finished needle but stops in his tracks. "You ever heard of knocking?! What the fuck are you doing in here?!" Paul yells. You turn around and see Embry standing there in shock. "Sam, he said you weren't home, and Emily needed Y/n's cook book. I-" he stops. "Well, did you not see my damn truck?" Paul growls at him. "I did, but I didn't see y/ns car, so I thought you guys took that." He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Look, I'm sorry. Sam thought you were gone." Paul sat there and started thinking. You remembered. You grabbed Paul's hand. "Right, the appointment. He must've thought we went today, but I canceled." You whisper. "What's going on? My wolf senses are telling me something is up." Embry walks closer.

You can see Paul about to yell, but you squeeze his hand. "It's fine, Paul. Embry, I have arthritis. That's why I don't always do the things everyone does. Sam, let's Paul stay home during my appointments or if I'm hurting real bad." You explained. Paul sighs and looks down at you. "Oh, shit. Well, I won't tell anyone. I'm very sorry for intruding. I had no clue. I really am sorry. And if you ever need anything, I can help." He smiles at you. "Thanks, stooge. My cookbooks are in the hall closet. Grab whichever one she needs." You shoo him away. He goes to the closet. Paul throws away the needle and then sits next to you. "I love you." He pats your knee. You lean in and kiss him softly. "I love you too."

"Hey, Y/n! I'm not sure which one she needs! Help!" Embry yells.

[enkvyu]

10:56pm — albedo;

break ups are messy, the lingering feelings of preserving love never ceasing to cling onto day-to-day objects, reminding you of sweet what-ifs. sometimes, you can see its remains piled onto a familiar jacket hanging abandoned in your closet, and amogst the dust, what is that staining its fabric?

you think it would have been better if you just hated him.

maybe then it would have been easier, easier to tolerate, easier to forget. but the reason you love him remains even when his love has long but fizzled out.

“name.” albedo calls, and it takes every fibre of your being to stop yourself from running away. oh, if the ground could open up and swallow you whole right now.

still, perhaps its that damned love that makes you turn with a smile on your face. “albedo, did you need something?”

“you came at the perfect time. sucrose went out moments ago but i needed a participant for my experiment. would you mind helping out?” his voice is as you always remembered and with a bitter thought, you wonder if your separation had affected him like it did you.

you wonder if your love had ever affected him, ever.

“the experiment can’t wait until she comes back?”

“something like that.”

you hum thoughtfully. “sorry, i’m a little busy. i could find someone else to help you though.”

albedo regards you. “it won’t take long.”

“i really don’t think i can.”

“because you’re too busy?”

“right.”

you don’t move. it’s that damned love again, holding you in place because though you hate it, hate how he looks at you like he still loves you, hate how he’s right there, within an arm’s reach and if you tried you could hold out your hand and touch him again, you know you can’t.

“name, listen. is this about what we had?” albedo speaks up again, and against better judgement, you bristle.

“what do you mean?”

“i can’t help but feel you’re uncomfortable around me because of something in the past. please correct me if i’m wrong.”

“you’re wrong.” you lie and your heart shudders at your words. “i don’t care about whatever was in the past. it's in the past for a reason."

“i didn’t mean to hurt you, name.” he takes a step forward, feet crunching in the snow.

you suck in a breath, equally taking a step back. “you know, you’re really bad at comforting people. especially considering the fact that i don't need comforting.”

the way he looks at you, like you're just another broken thing he could fix with enough research, like you're something curious to him, like you're interesting. like you're an anomaly he can't wait to flip inside out and back around. he's always looking at you, never with you.

"name." he says again, like you'd forgotten your name and he was the only one who could tell you who you were. "let's have a talk. i don't like having this distance between us."

but oh, who cares if he'll never treat you like a person, who cares if he's only playing around with you? you'd throw yourself off a cliff if you could guarantee he'd watch you the entire time, that distant, faraway look in his eye like you're only taking up his time until you're no longer special.

"i don't want to talk to you." you choke out. "we don't need to talk. there is nothing between us, no distance, no feelings, nothing. can't you let me go now that you've left me behind?"

"so i was right." albedo nods. "it is indeed because of our past relationship. i understand now."

"you don't get anything!"

"it's okay to get mad."

"oh, shut up albedo! can't you see that you're only making things worse?"

"i just wanted to let you know that your feelings are as expected."

you laugh and hope it covers up the pathetic sob that escapes your throat. instead, it only sounds more disgusting. you hate that you worry what he thinks of you still, maybe that's why you had taken more time than usual leaving your house.

"you really know nothing. despite all the time you spend locked up studying archons know what, you know nothing more than everyone else."

albedo and his stupid gaze, albedo and his know-it-all, it feels all too condescending. "insulting me won't make you feel better."

"but i want it to." your nose runs, and you're not completely certain it is because of the cold snowy air.

"let's continue this inside. it would worry me if you caught a cold." he angles his body to let you in and when you catch a glimpse of the interior, you feel a cold that penetrates to your bones.

the traveller meets your eye and gives you a smile, though their eyes are unsure. "is this the other participant to your experiment?" they ask innocently.

albedo looks away from you to nod, unfreezing you from your spot. without another word, you take a step back, then another and finally turn your back to the place you once call home, running into the nothingness hoping that same nothingness could numb your heart.

you're aware of the fact that he's yelling your name behind you, but those shouts easily die out in the wind. for once, you are thankful for the cold. it hurts, the chilling wind giving you whiplash from the burning sensation in your lungs as you run wherever your feet take you.

oh archons, he's already moved on. he's found someone else, i was that disposable to him. he's find someone else. i'm no longer the only one for him.

the first sob comes out overflowing. it spills everywhere as it's finally released. the next isn't as easy, you're gasping in as much air as you're releasing, but the one after that is less painful. forget him, your brain is screaming, you deserve better, it's saying.

but even as you cry out your poor, withered heart, you're hoping he could see you somehow and take in your pitiful self. still, somehow, you're hoping that he's intrigued with your wild reaction and you're still wishing he was watching you as you drop to the snow, you're still hoping he'll wrap you in his cold embrace.

[sadly-in-active]

Hey Dazai abuser

It’s me.

Can I request Sablé Cookie x a fallen angel reader???

🌝

(I know damn well that this situation would never be canon but I can dream)

Sincerely, 🌸 Anon

I’m going to throw you off of a cliff (again) because you keep reviving 💔 and you’re also my buddy on this blog why don’t you write it yourself I literally gave you my email 🤦‍♂️ /silly /affectionate

Sablé Cookie x Fallen Angel Reader

Summary: You, a fallen angel, were cast out by the Divines, your wings scorched and damaged by their punishment. When you landed in the mud of the Lower City of the Créme Republic, Sablé, a powerful politician, found you. Concerned for your well-being, she called for guards to get you treated. Afterward, she took you to her home, where you woke up from a month-long coma.

TW: Mentions of religion, abuse, blood (I’m not calling it strawberry jam no more it’s too much), I write like I’m playing project sekai, suicidal thoughts

While you were in your coma, Sablé always talked with Baumkuchen about your recovery, since she was quite fascinated on how you even came to be. Angels weren’t a big topic in the Créme Republic, but any paintings or statuettes of these winged beauties always caught her eye. She managed to make time to visit you while you were still gravely injured, examining you. Heck, she even sketched you in her notebook at times while you were unconscious.

Surprisingly, your recovery was speedy, but you were still unconscious. When Baumkuchen noticed that, he was a bit shocked, to be honest. No normal being should’ve been able to recover in under a week. Those were severe injures, as severe as the ones he got. He wanted to study you, but in more of the medicinal aspects. However, Sablé insisted on taking you back to her mansion, which the other Elder reluctantly agreed. They both kept a vow never to tell anyone about you, not yet of course. There would be too much questions. Too much risk.

—

Once you woke up, she was sitting right beside your bedside, sketching you once more. But don’t worry, she stopped once she noticed you were awake. She answered most of your questions, so you basically got the gist of what happened in the past month while you were recovering. She was smart enough to know that asking you questions would just make you more stressed, and she didn’t want that to happen to a wonderful beast like you!

But over the next week or two, as you continued to get better, the two of you started talking more. However, you seemed quite detached and quiet, as if you didn’t have a purpose anymore. Sablé questioned why you looked so solemn, but she wasn’t expecting that her suspicions were correct.

Ever since you were cast out by the Divines, you didn’t have any sense of purpose anymore. Your devotion disappeared, the only reason you lived was to serve. Now that you can’t, things have been getting worse. You questioned whether continuing to live was even worth it. If the Divines wouldn’t accept you, then who would?

Who could ever compare to such beings?

—

Since that conversation, Sablé has tried to make you her muse. Always painting you, making you model for her as she sculpts you…she just wanted to keep you close. Sure, you still felt like it was kind of a waste of time, but in those moments, you did have a purpose. Being a muse. Sometimes…you actually felt joy. Not from being carelessly and foolishly devoted to one who couldn’t even bother to acknowledge you, but joy from being regarded. Joy from not getting punished every time you accidentally messed up or moved around.

Oh, speaking of your wings, they’re much more healed now. Not well enough to fly, but enough to where the wounds you got before are practically gone, now replaced by a new set of black and light grey feathers. Hm. So they really did change from being white as snow to grey as ash. It made sense, well, a little.

She loves touching your wings, if you allow her to. She thinks they’re both beautiful and extremely soft, and seeing a slight blush on your face and little widened eyes as she combs her finger through them made her chuckle softly. Despite saying how emotionless and detached you are, you still seemed to process physical touch and feel some kind of emotion. Sablé also got a bit surprised when she tried to pet your feathered back and you had such a surprised and embarrassed reaction.

And yes, she did read about birds soon after. Well, she knew that your back was now a bit of an off-limits area…for now, at least. 😀

—

The day that she kissed you was the day you truly gained a purpose. It was completely normal, you were being told to pose for a painting, but she had to get something. Sablé told you to keep your eyes closed, which you did, and went to grab her stuff. After doing so, she walked up to you and pressed a kiss against your lips, quick and sweet, before telling you to open your eyes.

But honestly? Your eyes were wide open the moment she kissed you, so many thoughts and sudden emotions running through your head. Sablé could see that, but she tried to playfully brush it off. (She knew damn well how you were feeling in that moment)

You couldn’t help but reach your arms out to pull her in, pressing your lips against hers as you hugged her closely. She smiled.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Tide pools aren't for swimming [TBB x GN!Reader]

Warnings and Information: Second-person POV. No serious age rating. It's just sun, surf and seashells as far as the eye can see. Undescribed Reader with a codename. Coming from an ocean world, we're assuming Clones are excellent swimmers. Someone loses his trunks, though. Minor usage of Mando'a. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Not a relationship fic. Minor proofreading.

Word-count: 2,650

"If the Marshal Commander discovers you lot have blown off your reports, I'm not saving your shebs!" you warn the men as they tramp down the gangplank in a collective rush once they've all found something among the armor and fatigues that will do for swimwear in a pinch. They've gotten it in their heads that while you're all planetside and near a coastline, the whole team is going to the beach for the rest of the day. 

You turn to the only man who's not been carried out of the attack shuttle against his will, since Wrecker only has so many arms and hands. "Except for you, Echo. I trust you'll get your report done for Commander Cody in time, as always." 

Echo smirks, chest thrown forward with pride. "As always." he repeats. "Aren't you going to go with them, Vantage?" 

You bounce your shoulders, keying in the appropriate sequence to retract the steps and seal the hatch once you and the ARC trooper make your exit. "Oh, eventually," you say with a laugh. It's a small white-sand beach surrounded by cliffs. "They can't exactly get far, save for one direction." You made it clear to your squadmates from the jump that you did not wish to go swimming, and laid out your reasons in no uncertain terms. 

"Maker forbid one of you begins to drown, however, I will come to your rescue. But if one of you tries to get cute and throw me into the surf, I will give you a tongue-lashing that will leave your ears ringing until next Taungsday. Do I make myself clear?" 

"That'd put us at a real Disadvantage…" 

"Hunter, for kriff's sake-" You had warned him with an edge in your voice that suggested it would not be wise to test your sense of humor by making playful riffs on your alias. They were all smart enough to take the hint supplied by means of a jabbing elbow from the one with goggles and an ever-recording camera attached to them. "Yes, you made yourself clear, Vantage!" Hunter replied hurriedly. 

Maker, these boys behaved like a fraternity straight out of your academy, some days… You did not sign up for that program offered by the academic institution with the intention to be a karking glorified babysitter. Thankfully, they had the sense to perform their duty to the GAR with loyalty and a strong, if improvised, sense for getting the job done. 

They were troublemakers, no doubt about it. But galaxy and all her stars, they were your troublemakers. The Marshal Commander has gotten close to reassigning you a few times, but you've stood firm. 

"This is as far as I go!" you reply to Wrecker in yet another reminder that you are not wading up to your waist in frigid sea water just to see if the waves can bowl you over. "I'm not fond of swimming where I cannot confidently make out the bottom. You have fun out there, I'm staying here." You twist and grind your heels in the over-saturated sand in a stubborn display. You are not moving. The waves lapping over your ankles is truly as far as you will venture out into the briney deep. 

You've seen these men swim before and have the utmost confidence in their ability to navigate the surf. These waves are gentle in comparison to the towering walls of water they've seen from rain-spattered windows looking out of the stilted cloning facility. But it's been drilled into you since you were young that someone needs to watch the water at all times, to never leave someone swimming unattended. The beach offers a decent outcropping in one of the cliffs to serve as a guard tower, almost. 

"Pardon the play on your name, Vantage, but that outcropping would serve as a, well, excellent vantage point of the ocean." Tech explains a little timidly. "The rock shelf appears stable enough to support even Wrecker." 

"Hey!" 

Ignoring Wrecker's offended burst of dismay for a moment, you nod gratefully at Tech. "I wondered. Thank you. But I think I'll have to split my time with Crosshair since our sniper likes to feel tall." 

"Ahem…" Crosshair begins in a low, throaty tone, "might I remind you that I'm 1.93 meters tall, compared to Hunter's measly 1.8." 

Hunter scoffs, unphased. He's curiously shorter than all, or perhaps most, Clones, but he's never let on that the short jokes bother him in the time you've traveled with them. "Just for that, you're the one who gets to hold Wrecker's hand when he takes his turn on the outcrop." 

"HEY!!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and plant a hand on one hip with a deep, wearied sigh. You can hear Echo chuckling further up the beach, saying you look exactly like a disappointed nat-born parent from a holodrama right about now from where he's sitting. You certainly believe him.

Off to northeast on this little beach a few hours later, Wrecker makes a discovery while he takes a break from the waves. The water is cold, so he's soaking up some sun to warm himself. You, on the other hand, are suffering from the opposite problem as it is currently the estimated temperature high of the day. You're half tempted to let Wrecker playfully throw you into the surf as the next wave comes rolling in for a little reprieve, like he's done for Hunter and Crosshair (and Tech, but only once when he got too close). 

But not tempted enough to voice that idea. Maybe you'll go back to the waterline and soak your feet in a moment. 

Wrecker makes a request for your attention. "Vantage, look!" You lift your craned neck to meet his eyes upon further beckoning bellows. "These little pits are filled with water, and you can see the bottom! You could come cool off in one of these!"  The sun directly overhead, Wrecker uses his large hands to shade his eyes and most of his face rather than amplify his voice so he can squint further up the beach with less discomfort. 

"What pits?" Crosshair demands, doing a worse job of masking his confusion than you. 

Wrecker points emphatically, spirit hardly dampered by the annoyance his brother levies his way. "These pit-things!" 

You decide to see what the fuss is about. Tech trekked back into the Havoc Marauder to relieve himself and no doubt send his report to Cody, so he can't get to the bottom of what Wrecker's discovered for the foreseeable future. While he's far from stupid, Wrecker has a minor form of aphasia as a result of the accident that gave him the scrawling scar and cybernetic eye on the left side of his head. In your time working with them, you find Wrecker has trouble finding the right words to express himself in moments of extreme excitement or exhaustion, on occasion. 

You skip across the sand, halfway through your question when you find a delightful surprise. "What's thes- Oh, tide pools!" you exclaim. "Hey, boys! Wrecker found some tide pools over here!" These are indeed shallow enough that you can see the silty surface of the bottom, but with one glance into the tidal pool, you can pinpoint at least three delicate forms of aquatic life. 

Admittedly, the only reason you know such a thing is in thanks to either a friend or a family member of yours, though you don't recall who off the top of your head. 

Once Tech's joined the ranks around the oceanic pocket, he's excitedly prattling on in his amazement. "Incredible, those are some beautiful sea star specimens!" Crosshair sarcastically remarks he's peeled more interesting things in similar colors from the bottom of his boots, but Tech pays him no mind. "Juveniles, no less! This stage of their life cycle is seldomly documented, so this is an incredible opportunity for scientific contribution." 

"Which means we shouldn't swim in these tide pools, Wrecker," you explain delicately; you hate to deflate his sense of excitement, "leaving them undisturbed will give our starry friends the best chance to develop into healthy, strong adults. Besides, there's a species of red sea urchin at the bottom, if you look right there, that you don't exactly want to get close enough to risk stepping on them. Take my word for it when I say it stings like a mother-kriffer. Not even good bacta can touch the pain, for the most part." 

You're given a very fascinated look by the bespectacled Clone of the rogue squadron, having surprised him with an instance of your "quiet intelligence". Tech looks like a gulping fish as he tries to find the right words to express his sentiment, and you can't help but laugh. "Tech, take your time to think of your words before one of your brothers mistakes you for a fish and throws you back in the waves again." 

He adjusts his goggles in the meantime. "I was unaware you - at least seem to - know so much about these things." It comes across like an insult, or a backhanded compliment, but you know better than that. These are your troublemakers when they're not in Commander Cody's capable hands. You've gotten to know them well, and you take no offense. You only offer a cheeky grin.

"Heh. Someone I know from back home knows their stuff. I've heard a lot about tide pools in my life." 

A look of understanding dawns on him. "I see. Well, yes, you are right, Vantage. Tempting as it is, it will be best not to swim in these tidal pools. Or, perhaps not this one. Maybe one of the others will have less developmentally fragile sealife." 

Luck is not in your favor on this fine afternoon, as it would happen. Most of these 'pocket-sized oceans' teem with young and larval lifeforms that call the ocean home. They seem to serve as saltwater nurseries. Tiny crabs. Delicate polyps. Even beautiful, silky jellyfish have made themselves home in some of the deepest pools (mercifully, these do not have the capacity for the excruciating sting of other species). 

"That's disgusting," you groan, shaking your head at one of the men clad in nothing but a pair of crudely-cut swim shorts that were fashioned from a spare pair of their casual fatigues, "peeing on your brother's leg like a kriffing massiff won't help a jellyfish sting! Where in the galaxy did you hear such a thing?" 

"Kamino." Crosshair tells you with a face that would put professional Sabacc players to shame. 

"Of course you did. That's on me, I should have remembered that you were all created on Kamino, a damn ocean world. Did someone tell you that as a cadet?" 

"You want an answer to that, Vantage?" 

You need to quit while you're ahead before you find yourself subjected to more potentially juvenile behavior. "Not particularly, no." You dust off your knees after kneeling over the edge of this particular tide pool, mentally wishing the little jellyfish good-bye. Wrecker's idea of taking a quick dip in a tidal pool hadn't been a bad one, but you weren't counting on Tech finding any 'vacant' enough for a dip to cool off by this point. "I'm gonna go sit in the shade for a bit. Echo, scoot over!" 

He scowls, playfully calling back that you need to find your own palm tree to plop under, while making room for you all the same. From here, you can watch Crosshair and Hunter wrestle and grapple with one another in the tide, and keep your eye on Wrecker as he tries to float on his back a little further out. Tech remains on the beach, babbling to himself as he inspects each of these tide pools in depth. 

"We're going to be hearing about sea stars for hours… aren't we?" Echo mutters, but there's a warm and gentle smile that contrasts the weariness of his tone, "Which is going to drive them nuts while they try to rush their reports to Commander Cody."

"Don't worry," you tell him, "I can keep him occupied in the cockpit while you make sure the other three get their reports sorted out." 

"Gotta say, having you on the team is a real advantage sometimes." 

There's commotion down in the water that interrupts your train of thought about asking Echo if he's making fun of your codename, and you fear the worst. Drowning is a silent affair, and two of his brothers are suddenly shouting Hunter's name with mild concern. You kept your eyes off the water for too long, you shouldn't have assumed that the three out in the water could keep an adequate eye on each other. You don't see the curled brown hair and the slip of crimson fabric that serves as a bandana among the three bronze-skinned figures who were playing in the surf.

Wrecker and Crosshair do not seem all that panicked, to your fear and your fury. "Where's Hunter?!" 

He surfaces soon after, but he curiously does not stand fully upright in the water. You soon know why when someone's swim trunks find themselves washed ashore with the next wave.

"Oh, there they are. Here, toss them out to me, Vantage!" Hunter does not seem the least bit embarrassed that he's gone from clad in nothing but a pair of swim trunks to clad in nothing at all after a particularly strong wave must have tugged them free from his hips. 

You staunchly refuse to touch the trunks, pointedly turning around to avoid getting an eyeful of anything below the belt as Hunter drags himself out of the waves. "Get them yourself, Hunter! Oh Maker, I'm going back to the Marauder. I've had enough." 

"Nice going, Hunter." Cross says, slugging his shoulder. "You scared Vantage away."

"I promise I tied them; not like I did that on purpose." You can almost hear the bounce of his shoulders in Hunter's voice as he brushes off the accusation. "C'mon, Van!" Wrecker calls to you from the water. "Don't leave!" He's stopped by both Cross and Hunter from exiting the ocean and chasing you up the beach, warning him that if you're not already in no mood for further oisk right now, you certainly will be if he tries to stop you while he's soaking wet with sea water.

"I'm going to the ship to get towels for everyone," you tell Echo as you trudge further up the beach, glancing at the chrono on your wrist. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I'm gonna see if I can't convince Commander Cody to extend the deadline by another day…" 

Echo gives you an understanding bob of his head despite the expression of confusion. "How come?" 

"Oh, I don't know…" you sigh wistfully as you turn back and look at the water, where to your surprise, Tech has been roped into a game of water-chicken and is now perching himself on Crosshair's shoulders to wrestle with Hunter atop Wrecker's, "something tells me those reports won't get done tonight. They're having too much fun. You should too, Echo." 

He shrugs, looking uncertain. "Don't know that seawater would be good for my cybernetics. Sand is one thing, I have plenty of practice cleaning that out." You offer to ask the Marshal Commander for answers as you put in the request for an extension. You're certain he can get in touch with Captain Rex or General Skywalker to outsource an answer for you since you don't have their comm frequencies. "Thanks, Vantage. Still not gonna go swimming yourself, though?" 

Echo's given a smile and shrug. "Oh… I might change my mind and at least venture out a little further." You start making your way back to the heavily modified Omicron-class shuttle with a smirk tugging your lips into place to compliment your mischievous tone. "But no promises." 

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[spaceshipsoutthepool]

Sulk in the Sun🍹

Ao3 link

While it’s quite out of character to do so; Penny loses her cool and storms off. Although it isn’t ladylike to admit that. Brains comes to join her by the pool. And of all people, is the one to try and talk her out of potential leaving International Rescue.

Boom! last fic of the year bay-beeee. Happy 2024

Story under the cut for those who prefer to read here

Lady Penelope was never a sun chaser. Or comfort­able in great heat. Much as she was trying to relax. Forcing herself to relax might be the more operative term.

"Oh, I'd much rather be wrapped up in layers. With a walk on the heath any day.” she thought moodily, looking out over the ocean again. rather than facing the sunlight like the fellow tourists topping up their tans. “Bring on winter. It's probably a lovely chilly autumn day back home!”

Around the pool (but not actually in it), holiday makers and expats alike were turning over and over for an even bronze. Penelope privately thought most were cooking themselves to walnuts; all oiled brown and wrinkly. She decided she probably looked silly; sat in the near shade wearing a cover wrap and a large sun hat. And then decided she didn't care. Not particularly. Just like she didn’t care for this resort. And she didn’t care about International Rescue. No, not at all.

Penelope again tried to put ‘the day job’ from her mind. And tried to focus on just the sea breeze coming over the cliff side. The blue ocean. and blue almost cloudless sky stretching on for ever and ever. And somewhere out there, just beyond the horizon and further hidden by several clever mirage devices, hidden in plain sight was Tracy Island…

Drat.

"Your drink, M’Lady?"

Penelope did not jump. She refused to. Parker was now hovering at her side again, ever the faithful English butler. Even in his holiday cream chinos.

"Parker. You're on holiday too.” she scolded. “Do desist bullying the resort staff out of their jobs!"

"Begging your pardon milady. But they can't make a mixer or -pardon me language- a blooming cup of tea right.” He explained. “Not to your particular way of liking, at any rate."

Penelope sighed. He had a point.

"I do appreciate it, Parker. But you are fussing.”

“Sorry, milady.”

“Really. The world won't end just because of a little spilt milk or life providing lemons for the lemonade..." she said, taking the drink from the tray. then added with a rather viscous look back out to sea. "Despite what our American friends think."

"Quite? Erm...” Parker hesitated. It seemed he was not, for all their year's together, sure how to address a Ladyship whose pride had been wounded. Discussing Common enemies or wrong uns sure. Not catty remarks about ol’ pals and friendships possibly soured.

“Well… I’ll be off then? if you say so milady?"

"I do. Please Parker, go off and enjoy yourself?" She said, then added, “Preferably without a casino in sight?”

Parker sighed.

“No more gambling wot I ain’t got m’lady. You have my word on that. But.” Again, Parker hesitated. Then cleared his throat.

"If I might be so bold as to say so, milady-?"

"No. You may not." Penelope snubbed. And stubbornly turned back to the picture esc view.

“…Very good, m’lady.” Parker snubbed right back. Penelope sat tense, purposely ignoring him as he departed. then cursed her bad temper as even Parker left her too sit and stew.

Villains and hazards she could handle with ease. Emotions, or more unpleasant feelings, she’d always rather hated facing. Creighton-Wards don’t do very good at that. Especially without something constructive or some engagement to throw herself into.

“I wasn’t made for relaxing on sunbeds.” She thought. “That clearly skipped a generation.”

She did persevere, however, between sipping the fruity drink and reading the awful bad romance thriller book she’d brought with her.

(she’d initially brought the new hit bestseller to hide the history journal she had actually been reading. It wouldn’t do for the British tabloid press to think she wasn’t such a blonde. But then Diane had said the Book was so awful, it was actually good. So, Penelope had tried to read it for real. Then decided while she could trust Diane one many things, life and death things even; book recommendations was not one of them.)

The book, however bad, wasn't exciting enough to take her mind off things. Not properly. But She absolutely was not going to lose her temper, again or spend the whole holiday shut up in her room. Nor was she going to cry or shed one single tear over Jeff bloody Tracy. Or Scott for that matter. She hadn’t so far and was not about to start. Certainly not in public, thank you very much.

Lady Penelope was just debating if she should give it up? And see what the on-site gym had to offer, hoping to physically run away from her troubles. But when she went to sit up her ribs to remind her why she was on a ‘relaxing holiday’ in the first place. Trying not to wince was extra hard when she heard Parker’s heavy footsteps. (The ex-cat burglar was deliberately making himself heard and not sneak up on her again.) Instead, Penelope repressed a groan. not even forty minutes had gone past since she’d asked to be left in peace!

"Begging your pardon again ma'am. but there’s a gentleman wishing to speak to you?"

"If it’s anyone with the surname Tracy on the telephone I do not wish to speak to them." She snapped, not looking up from the book.

"Good thing it ain’t on the phone, then." Parker cut back, rather brutishly. then asked, "What can I get you to drink, young sir?"

"J-Just a c- cold soft drink please, Parker."

"Brains?!"

"H-hi Lady Penelope.”

Penelope bolted up (ouch) and lifted her sunglasses. Sure enough, there was International Rescues resident genius. He gave a little wave, as Parker gave a little nod and left. "My dear boy, how splendid to see you! What on earth are you doing here?"

“I’m dropping in on you, a-apparently. If that’s okay?" Brains smiled, sitting on the sun lounger next to hers. The young man stuck out like a sore thumb in his vest, shirt and tie. But despite the heat and the awkward way he held himself, (as if the lounger would bite him if he were to put his feet up,) Brains didn't seem to mind. Mind, Penelope supposed he was used to the heat of the southern hemisphere.

“I-I hope, I'm not interrupting anything?”

“Only my own ruminating. How did you know where I was?" She asked, astonished, putting down the rubbish paperback. Then narrowed her eyes at him. "And why are you here, even? Did someone put you up to this?"

Brains’ hands went up sharpish in surrender, like she’d levelled a pistol at him.

"N-no. no one! I came of my own accord.” He said. Then amended, putting his arms down. “Well a-actually, no. That's not true. I was coming here. Solo. then l-lost my nerve? and Tin-tin bullied me into actually going through with this. And then flew me here!"

Penelope whipped around. (Her ribs didn’t like that.) Tin-tin sat at the outdoor bar, looking resplendent in tangerine. with a drink to match. seeing she’d been spotted, Miss Kyrano saluted her.

"Tin-Tin said if you like, she's up for a trip out into town. but she’s also said to tell you she’s not coming over until she knows you definitely won’t judo throw her over the cliff. or be cross with her for bringing me over.” Brains explained.

“I would never-!” Penelope said aghast. Then remembered the rather vicious exchanging of words that had led to her checking into the resort rather than staying on Tracy Island. “…Not the first option at least.”

“T-that’s fair. And as for the how, John tracked the heli-jet to the mainland, and locating your communications was very simple. That and this is one of the nearest luxury adults only resorts to the airport. Tracy Industries has a gold card- “

"Oh of course he does." Penelope scoffed. And then felt a teensy bit bad for throwing Brains off his track.

Brains nervously cleared his throat. and continued. "Yes. to a suite? We stay here if the weather is too bad to get back across from supplies runs with the jet or the Ladybird. so, we simply walked onto site, dropped off our bags; Tin-tin got changed and then we came looking for you."

“Right. Well Brains, you’ve found me. Congratulations…”

Brains shifted nervously as she scrutinised him. Then turned away, pulling back down her sunglasses.

"A-a Penny for them, Lady Penelope?" Brains tried when the silence stretched a little too long.

"Right now, my thoughts do not make for good company." Penelope said coolly, not accolading the pun on her name, intentional or not.

Then sighed, rubbing her temple.

"My apologies. You are a pip for coming out to see me. I shouldn't take it out on you. Or dear old Parker, either for that matter."

"Less of the old." She thought she heard. Penelope glanced back to the bar where her butler was taking an awfully long time to fetch Brains his pop.

Penelope took off her sunglasses, folding them neatly back into their case.

"But Brains? Dear if you've come to apologise on their behalf or ask me to come back to the island, don’t bother. and I’m not apologising either, so don’t waste your time asking me too!" She said, feeling rather childish. Then added. “Even if it is bad form."

"No, I didn’t. And-and I'm not going to do that. I-I c c ccc.”

Brains paused and took a breath before continuing.

“I came on my behalf. Admittedly with a push. No one bar John was informed where we were heading. Just off base. And as for saying sorry-?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I think you’re both in the wrong? if it matters, Lady Penelope.” He said sincerely.

Penelope shot him a look that sent ‘stronger men’ running normally. This time Brains wasn’t affected.

“However, you came to Tracy Island for r-rest and recovery. And I’m sorry you fell out with Scott and Mr Tracy. That I will a-a-pp-p. That I am sorry for.” He continued. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Really?"

"That, that is very sweet of you. I'm …fine, thank you." She said. Then teased just a little. "How many times do I have to say you’re free to call me Penny. or at least Penelope?"

"I don't think I could manage ‘Penny’." Brains shook his head. "It doesn't sound right from me."

“Alright.” She said, “But I mean it. And it is sweet, but I hate to think I’ve put you out. you could have just called?"

"W-would you have answered? "

"From you, yes.” Penelope said truthfully. “But then again I guess there's no way of screening calls outside of the home video phone and FAB One.”

"No. That is something I’ve been looking into? Assimilating a ringtone, different coloured lights for items. Or a caller id like on telly phones. It’s been simple enough to roll out on the vehicles so far. But on the watches and-!”

Brains stopped. “… Lady Penelope, you're letting me t-talk e-electronics again."

"You call it techno babble; I find it interesting." She shrugged. It might have sounded like false flattery to or from someone else, but she did genuinely enjoy listening to Brains. Even the bits that went over her head.

"Yes, but y-you're avoiding an awkward conversation." Brains frowned. "Where was I?"

"Television phone lines?" Penelope tried. Brains frown grew a little exasperated. "Oh, it was worth a shot. I said I would have answered. if it was you."

"Right. Well as I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried about you. So, were Tin-tin a-and the fellas? And we’re all missing you and had been looking forward to you visiting. Really. I hope I’m not wrong when I say I see you as a very good ‘pal’, Lady Penelope? even outside of work.”

Brains was not a great fan of spontaneous physical affection. or else Penelope might have reached over and squeezed his hand. She herself wasn’t one for mushy sentiments without substance.

“You aren’t wrong. Although I'm not using the term ‘pal’ , thank you. but You’re a dear friend of mine too Brains. One Whom I’m lucky to have I might add.”

“The gadgetry upgrades are an a-added bonus.”

He said it in his normal tone but punctuated it with a very over top wink. Ah a joke.

Parker did not bring Brains his cola. But allowed the automatic waiter to bring it to him instead. It was a shiny chirping dustbin looking thing with a flat tray head, running on wheels and a track. Nothing as sophisticated as Braman. Although someone had gone to great trouble to put a smiley face on its front using its order lights as eyes. Penelope glared at it all the same for intruding.

Brains took the drink, thanked the robot; And continued.

“And it was somewhat selfish of me too. Coming to see you I mean. I wanted to get off the island for a little while. or at least away from the house.”

“Oh? Brains, is something wrong?” Penelope wasn’t going to admit she was worried no. not at all.

Alright, perhaps a smidgen.

“hm. it isn't a nice atmosphere.” Brains said, plucking out the umbrella from the drink and rolling it in his fingers. “And the others are trying to hide in my lab which is-?”

The near splutter of giggle from her startled them both.

“Terribly sorry, Brains.” Penelope apologised. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I just got the ridiculous image of one or more of the boys physically hiding under your work bench like a game of sardines!”

“Ah. no. That would be funny! And that has happened before! Not with the work bench but the storage cupboard. I do have to remind them sometimes it is a working lab and workshop." Brains said with a chuckle. Then more seriously, "If they were working on their own projects, I wouldn’t mind. It would be simply a case of just being there at the same time? but it was more they all keep coming in rather than face one another. if that makes sense? to see how whatever it is I’m working on is going and small talk."

“Ah. No, I quite agree that it is quite bothersome when people do that. One moment.”

Penelope reached into her bag. And pulled out an anti-listening device, ironically disguised as a compartment pocket disc and radio player. While the one in her compact and Brain’s watch were probably more than adequate for any electronic bugs; this one packed a little more juice that’d allow them a little more privacy. Beaming white noise up out of its antennae, the gadget then echoed surrounding noise back outward, creating a barrier around in up to a five-metre radius. Both eves’ droppers and recording devices alike wouldn’t hear them now. Even Parker and Tin-tin’s own IR devices would struggle against it. Parker wouldn’t even hear what she was saying even if he hid in a nearby decorative pot plant.

“There. Then we speak a little more freely about your lab and the Tracy’s.” Penelope smiled, setting it on the table between their sun loungers. “You can never guarantee secrecy in these places. As you’ve proven!”

Only Brains was more focused on the not-a-radio. “Is the new synth mechanism working well for output you need it too outside of the testing conditions? I wasn’t certain it could generate the continuous voltage without compensating the battery life.”

“Now who’s talking shop to avoid discussions?” Penelope pointed out. Brains sighed and swirled the cola as if it might help.

"It isn’t a nice atmosphere.” He said eventually. “In any of the villas. But other than seeing you’re okay? I'm staying out of the actual argument please. So are Tin-Tin, Gordon and John. "

“That’s only two out of five brothers." Penelope said quietly.

“Alan is heading to Thunderbird Five two days earlier than he was meant to. John changed his mind and was going to let Alan owe him another week seeing as you weren’t there anymore? but I think Alan’s trying to escape too. " Brains said. “And his, Alan’s I mean. His stance is ‘I told you so’. but I'm not sure which side of the argument. Although John asked you to call him, and you can tell him your side of the story.”

“Our own little ‘bitch sesh’.” Penelope said, sipping her drink to avoid pursing her lips. “And Virgil's?"

Penelope wished she hadn’t asked. Brains’ face fell.

“Virgil isn't speaking to anyone." He said sadly. "Last time I saw him he was holed up in Thunderbird Two making adjustments to the starboard’s main averting b-six aid access. And he had been for nearly ninety minutes!"

"Which bit is that? That he’s repairing."

"Oh. On the hatch in the cockpit, for storage." Brains corrected. "It keeps sticking."

“What a nuisance that must be." Penelope frowned. “Especially as Two’s pilot.”

“Quite. But. It shouldn’t take all that long to fix. And… I’m not sure I should say this?”

“And?” Penelope prompted anyway.

“And Virgil is not even acting as Scott’s confidant." Brains said.

“Oh…goodness, that is troubling."

“Hmm. Yeah.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment or few.

There was a splash, which served as a fitting distraction as any.

Tin-tin had at some point put on her cap and stripped down to her swimsuit. making use of the pool she’d hopped in for a dip and started doing steady lengths. Parker was looking h’after her stuff. He sat watching the sunbathers like a guard dog, daring any dirty old men to ogle or approach the young lady. It was quite sweet how protective he was of Tin-tin. Parker had acted much the same in Paradise Peaks, despite them being on assignment.

Deciding they’d be alright, Penelope sighed again and turned back to Brains.

"It wasn't in my itinerary, you know? To upset Virgil. I didn’t set out to do so on purpose.”

“I know.”

“Or Jeff actually. Certainly not to anger him. or Scott. or any of you for that matter-."

“don't.” Brains frowned interrupting. “I know that. With what was said, I believe it was needed, giving the operation. but the way it was put, it wasn't right.”

“That's rather the crux of the matter. rather than quite what was said itself.” Penelope admitted. Brains nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Does he often do that with the rest of you?”

“No, not a lot. Although sometimes Mr Tracy says things in that tone without meaning too. But He does it to even Kranyo? I don’t like it when he does that.”

“I doubt Kryano does either. Well, thank you for your honesty… I knew I was in for a lecture. Or possibly at worst a telling off. I just hadn’t expected it levelled at me quite so bluntly or on a personal level.” Penelope complained. “Oh dear. But you are right. And I shouldn’t have shot back either. At Jeff. I'm afraid my own father was a ‘give them as good as back, son’ sort of approach too.”

“Mine tried.” Brains agreed. “So did the professor.”

“Oh?”

Brains very very rarely ever talked about his family life before the Tracy’s. Adopted or otherwise. But he was slightly more casual here, just for a brief moment.

“It didn’t take. Sending me to boxing classes to t-toughen me up just gave the school bully an easier target. Especially if I couldn’t see them in the ring without my glasses.” He said. And waved off any sympathy.

“H-how did your parents find it?” Brains asked and at her questioning look clarified, “Not following the life they’d planned for you? If that’s not too personal?”

“From you, no, not at all. Hmm. I think switching from scouts to the guides helped? But it was being made head girl and going to finishing school that finally won mater over.” Penelope shrugged. Something her old tutor would have struck her with a ruler for, speaking of. “As for my father? In his own words better a strong daughter then another waste of an heir like his brother was. Yours?”

“The professor didn’t really mind what I wore or what I changed, so long as I didn’t miss any classes.”

Brains didn’t elaborate any further. Penelope picked up the thread of conversation before the silence became awkward.

“I'm afraid I’ve made papa sound a brute. He wasn’t. He was a good man in most respects. although I don’t think he and Jeff would have gotten on at all.” She said. But the augment was still playing on her mind. and the subject circled back and reared its ugly head. “But speaking of Jeff and fathers. This isn’t a case of simply being grounded or getting into trouble with a local constable, is it?”

Brains shook his head, and Penelope continued. “And yet Jeff spoke to me like a child.”

“But what you did was incredibly risky? He’s right to think that.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need to hear any more of his Opinions.” Penelope said curtly. “…or his mothers.”

"If it helps Mrs Tracy called him and Scott foolish. For speaking to you like that. Individually. and idiots collectively " Brains put in.

"It does actually." Penelope said, a little cattily. "Given Grandmama Tracy cannot stand me, she must really be quite galled to be on my side."

“y-yeah. Well partly on your side.”

"Was she very rude about me?" Penelope grinned. Brains thought for a moment reanalysing.

“Urm…you do know Mrs Tracy says your name odd. Like it’s an insult?” He said warily.

“Oh, she always does that. That's why I call her Grandmama.”

“Oh. But Mrs Tracy hates that?”

“I know. She pretends to flirt with Parker, and she knows we all hate that.”

“I'm not certain it is pretend. Wait, is that why she called you a snob?”

“Is that all? Well, I am. That’s not terribly rude. if it’s true.” Penelope smiled sweetly. “She also thinks I'm a bad influence on you Tin-tin and the boys. And Jeff to boot.”

“Really? I don’t believe it.”

“She told me that herself. And you’ve my word it’s the truth.”

"I don’t understand why you find that funny?” Brains said, “Oh well. Other than that Mrs Tracy wasn't so rude as to call you anything but ‘her majesty!’ behind your back… But that was before the fight."

“It was hardly a fight! Nothing was broken or hit." Penelope disagreed.

"Well, what would yo-you call it then?"

Penelope thought. "A mild skirmish.” She said, “Or perhaps the start of a rift."

"I- I’m not going to call it that first one. But Mrs Tracy is being very vocal about everything being ’bang out of order’. And that she ‘raised you boys better’.” Brains said, with air quotations. “And she keeps dishing out chores. The villa is spotless. And Mrs Tracy is hand washing the dishes despite having the dishwasher. She only does that when she’s cross.”

Brains then smiled and lowered his voice unnecessarily, "Can you keep a secret, Lady Penelope?"

"Always dear.” Penelope whispered back, conspiring for juicy gossip. “Go on?"

"Mr Tracy even got middle named!" Brains chuckled. "He was complaining about Virgil’s hiding. And Mrs Tracy told him to pull his own socks up. Metaphorically. B-but he doesn’t know Gordon and I heard him."

"Oh my!” Penelope tittered. “Although if Gordon heard? then it will go around the island like wildfire."

“T-true True.” Brains smiled.

But then that smile slipped somewhat.

"I-I'm afraid there’s no way to avoid Scott’s fussing or temper by the way. He gets very worried about any of us getting hurt. You and me? We might not be one of his brothers but Scott? He's always trying to look out for everyone."

"I know." Penelope conceded. "I know. But the hypocrisy? He cannot throw himself into ridiculous scrapes himself then join in with berating me like a child!"

"I know.” Brains echoed. “He does it a lot. Even worse since that accident with the ‘dish Monte Bianco? the others call him smother hen.”

Virgil had called it that and some several more rather expletive things, she knew.

“Gordon says it’s a compliment?” Brains continued. “Too you I mean. That Scott cares for you. As one of the team”

“It didn’t feel like a compliment.” Penelope pouted. Not that she’d admit that. “He didn't have to jump in and agree with Jeff quite so eagerly either. And the dressing down from Mr Jeff Tracy? I maintain; it really felt like I was being spoken to like a child!”

“Hmm.”

Brains paused tapping his shoe nervously.

"I I do respect Mr Tracy, a great deal. But sometimes..."

Brains took a deep breath.

“Sometimes Jeff can be a little frustrating to deal with.” Penelope suggested. “And it feels like he doesn’t take one seriously.”

“You hit the pr-pro p. you’ve hit the nail on the head there as it were, Lady Penelope.” Brains paused again. “I wish sometimes…”

Penelope gave him a moment. But Brains changed tack.

"You were worried about him. Last April? so you insisted Mr Tracy took a holiday, correct?" he said, placing the cola on the table next to hers and the fake radio.

"I did.” She said, curious to see where he was going with this. “After a very insistent message from a little thunderbird-ie prompted it. But they were right."

"Oh. I didn't know that bit… but You still had Mr Tracy’s best interests at heart, right?"

" I hoped so."

Jeff had been very against it…

"But then Scott burnt out trying to be in charge?" Brains said. "Even before the seascape called in. And Mr Tracy came back only to the island."

"I remember." Penelope said. This time it was her turn to pause before speaking. “I felt like I was being blamed without him saying so.”

"Hmm. he doesn’t like it. not being in charge?” Brains said. Penelope agreed. “But at the same time, he’s never given Scott any training or expertise into stepping up. He just expects Scott to ‘know’ what to do. Same with Tracy industries. And it isn’t just Scott. It’s all five of them. I know they had a say in the matter of making the operations. But not so much in how it’s run sometimes. Or how it’ll run in the future.”

“Hmm.” Penelope smiled and put her shades back on. “And that makes it all alright, doesn’t it?”

“Lady Penelope?”

“Yes?”

"Your jaw is doing that thing it does on missions where you’re really angry but pretending to be helpless."

“Good grief Brains! Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You can count cards!” Brains shot back. "I prefer chess anyway. Scott was right in the lounge though, w-with what he said.”

“Scott was rude.”

“But correct. You don’t have to prove that you’re indestructible. We know you aren’t, even if you act like it!”

Penelope did not hide her scowl this time. “I can manage, you know? I'm aware this latest ‘favour’ I’ve done for Jeff is more of a blot on my record than a gold star. But I’ve been living this lifestyle for longer than they have.”

“I k-know that! We all do. We were all worried!” Brains said and put his head in his hands. He didn’t look up when spoke.

“He was right. So was Mr Tracy. but the way it was put wasn't. He does it to his brothers all the time! even when they’re out on a rescue. And sometimes Mr Tracy? He speaks to them as their dad when they’re running through protocols. or as a commander when they need their father?”

"That's the trouble with a family business I suppose." Penelope sighed. She drew out a cigarette case and her holder. At exactly the right moment Parker just happened to be walking past to light it for her with just a flip of his zippo. Barely breaking his stride. Remarkable talent of that man.

"I get I am essentially an employee in a family run enterprise. Albeit a rather extravagant one. As well as a friend of said family." Penelope continued, exhaling smoke out. "But to get a dressing down so publicly? With the lot of you in earshot, and Scott as his second jumping in and backing him up? Call me spoiled but I'm not used to it. I wouldn't do that to anyone who works in my home or working under me invited to the house. it's unseemly!"

That last bit came out a little loud and had it not been for the anti-eavesdropping device then heads may have turned.

Brains stifled a cough through his nose. And Penelope made sure to blow smoke the other way.

"What about your err... previous employment?" he asked, waving smoke away from his face. “Did You never get in this sort of trouble with them?”

“Oh goodness all the time. Not so much in journalism, but I’ve had some HORRID directors and horrible bosses. Far worse than Jeff. Especially within the fashion industry. thank goodness for houses like François Lemaire!” Penelope sighed again. "But I can get away with kicking up a fuss right back if needs be behind the catwalk and cameras if something is wrong. especially on behalf of the newer or younger models. Brands don't want the press of being outed as underpaying or cutting corners... That wasn't what you meant, was it dear?”

Brains shook his head. “Not really. But was there much difference? With modelling, interviews and being an agent.”

“The extortionate pay and more weapons pointed at my head.” Penelope quipped. Then really thought about it. “And bizarrely less sexism interestingly enough? Things were said to my face more, granted, but I could actively use that to an advantage.”

“Gee. T-that’s socially fascinating to observe. But I would not like to step into either of those worlds. With the exception of consulting and inventions.” Brains said. Then laughed. “Wait? You know those tacky souvenirs that say things like ‘you don’t have to be mad to work here-?

“But it helps.” Penelope said. “Yes, I know the ones you mean.”

“Well, I think we don’t have to be mad where we work?”

Penelope chuckled right back. “But it helps. True, very true.”

“I b-believe I might know what I'm contributing to the Secret Santa.” Brains said, making a note in his pocketbook. “”

“That’s very apt. regardless of whose name you pull out.” Penelope agreed. “What’s the limit this year by the way?”

The worst-best present was a Tracy Tradition. Had been since the boys had been pocket money age. save buying four presents each. And Grandma receiving five of the same mug or tea towel. The categories had become more wilder but if anything, the price limit had come down, to maintain the challenge.

“Gordon says up it to twenty dollars. but Alan wants to be extra hard and say ten.”

“I could be a bounder and include the postage then.” Penelope said, not meaning it really. “You get that slogan. I’ll contribute something with Alice in Wonderland. We're all mad here!”

“I'm sensing a theme.” Brains stammered.

“Let’s see if they notice. Mind I suppose Tracy Island is a wonderland somewhat.” Penelope smiled. “All your brilliant ideas? the bravery, the secrets.”

Brains however wasn’t laughing.

“Will you stay? In the organisation.” He said, suddenly serious and switching topics. It threw her, just a little.

“Why should I?!” Penelope retorted. She hadn’t thought of quitting. Not really. But she could!

“I can give you a list of reasons if that wasn’t rhetorical.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need a list.” She frowned. Penelope went to take another drag of her cigarette only to find it had burnt up.

“Can I ask why you don’t just fly back to England then?” Brains asked as she stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“No.”

The voice didn’t normally allow for any argument to bode. But Penelope wasn’t having much luck in being intimidating. Must be something with the factor seventy sunscreen.

“I m-maybe wrong but I think you were hoping someone would come. Here, from the island. To find you.” Brains challenged. “I like to think you’re giving them a chance to get their act t-together.

“Think what you like!” Penelope said. And in Trying to Give him the brush off, she snatched up her book again. She even started reading it again to ignore him. Unfortunately, she had it Upside down. And didn’t realise for a beat too long she was so annoyed. Still Penelope Powered through it. even tuning the pages. Brains in turn turned in his seat. and looked out over the same spot as she’d spent most of the day doing. He sipped his cola, politely ignoring her ignoring him.

“G-good book?” he asked eventually.

“Awful.” Penelope said, calmer. Brains was annoyingly very good at being a good influence. “And not in a way so bad it’s entertaining.”

“Ah. S-shame. Not even if it’s read the wrong way r-round upside down and back to front?”

“Not even then, darling.” She said, putting it back down. And steeled her courage to the sticking place. “And… going back to your question. admittedly I couldn’t face the flight. Home. Or Back to the island.”

Brains frowned. “Do you mean physically or psychologically?”

“Both-.”

“Lady Penelope-!” Brains interrupted.

“well-!” she interrupted right back. Goodness, this felt horribly vulnerable! “I just wasn’t in the mood for another argument. And a long-haul flight, even in a Fireflash, sounded extremely inadvisable at this point.”

“Are you in pain?” Brains asked. Then eyed her glass suspiciously. “Should you be drinking that on medication?”

“Now you sound like a Tracy. It’s a mocktail. I’m not so foolish to get white girl brit-abroad wasted, thank you! Not with bruises.” Penelope said, stirring it for emphasis. And gave a little scowl. “It's mostly fruity and syrup. Parker was right, this isn’t even close to a cocktail.”

“So, if you aren’t drinking a-alcohol, does that mean you are taking pain relief?”

“Yes, Brains I am.”

“The full prescribed dosage?”

Penelope didn’t dignify that with a straight answer. Brains pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to stare incredulously at her till Penelope explained.

“I didn’t want to take them. They’re so strong. They make me woozy, and I cannot stand how at odds with my own limbs they make me feel.” She grumbled. “I came here to relax, not to be comatose.”

“You came to the island to relax. You went to recover enough to get out of any questions from the press.” Brains corrected. And sighed,

“Mr Tracy’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

“I meant it when I said think what you like.” Lady Penelope said coolly. “I'm here and he’s there. And he’ll still be behind his desk when I get home.”

“Is that your solution for dealing with uncomfortable situations?” Brains accused. “j-just run away and hide.”

“Better to hide in plain sight then get caught." Penelope sniffed.

“That's not denying running away.” Brains retorted.

“It was hardly a run. Given how long it took to repack my bags.” Penelope said, Losing her temper with another old friend. It wasn’t a burning fiery thing this time; this burnt like ice. “And don’t act as if he has never upset you either? Or that you’ve never buried yourself in work to avoid Jeff. Scott told me about the smashed models.”

That last bit she added Rather unfairly. Beastly even. Penelope regretted it the instant she said it. Brains regarded her for a moment, and she thought he might get up and leave that time. She wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he grumbled, "You’re all very alike y-you know? In that you're all sorry about how you spoke to each other but too stubborn to a-actually apologise. Plus, you’re British and not going to admit he up­set you. Really upset you."

"For someone who just said he'd rather watch from the side-lines, you know a lot about how people tick Brains.”

“For someone who’s so cool under pressure she frustrates the Hood? you can be one heck of a hot head sometimes, Lady Penelope!”

Penelope considered he had a point. But didn’t verbally say so.

“What was in your cola to make you so direct today?” she said instead.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he replied instead.

“Because I do not always need to be rescued.” Penelope stated. “I’m not a damsel in some story. For every concern Parker or I have called the boys in, there must be a dozen or so missions I handle. sometimes without most of you even being aware of until afterwards.”

“I know.” Brains said quietly. “But you did need rescuing in that situation. Or should have been? And you didn’t ask for help.”

“I am aware, Brains. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.” She snipped. “Unfortunately, I was too late in my decision making.”

“P-Penelope? You were hurt.”

Maybe it was the fact he’d dropped the title? Or it was the unsaid parallels to another tragedy. but Penelope didn’t interrupt.

“In an avalanche of all things. And at one point even missing? And knocked unconscious. Enough to scare us all.” Brains said. “That might be the reason Mr Tracy was, either consciously or not, hard on you. But… It is frustrating that we’re an organisation that helps people; but we’re bad at looking out for each other. Especially to how everyone is feeling, e-emotionally.”

“…Brains, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or brought up the Thunderbird Six planning.” She said in a hush. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” Brains nodded. Then added, “A -also how much did he tell you? About the model I broke?”

Penelope was Not glad to change the subject as such. But certainly, latching on to it.

“So, it was on purpose then?” Penelope asked.

“no.” Brains defected. “Frustration? yeah…Failure isn’t an option. Even just demonstrations and trials.”

“He said it was more than one.”

Brains looked up at that, worried.

“S-Scott knew about the other models?”

“No. You just told me.” Penelope pointed out. Brains’ mouth opened and closed twice before just settling on silently frowning. “Scott said they’d been other pitches…and then even after repurposing Alan’s biplane, you seemed to lose confidence in yourself for a little while. That was clear even to Parker and myself.”

“wouldn’t you? nothing was good enough.” Brains frowned. “Nothing I made was what Mr Tracy had in mind.”

This time Lady Penelope did reach across the gap to squeeze his arm. It was more on his sleeve if anything. She didn’t wish to overwhelm the poor fellow.

“There’s no shame in wanting to work to a specification.” She tried.

“Or wanting to stick to the mission.” Brains countered in agreement. “Just please have ah- an extra b- backup plan next time, Lady Penelope? And be more careful around missions with snow.”

Lady Penelope promised she would.

“Annoyingly, I'm normally rather good at them. And please don’t be cross about the models? Scott didn’t tell me a lot. Virgil and John filled me in a little more. It wasn’t gossip, they were worried for you, dear boy.” She continued. “But they told me enough to make me wish you’d gotten to be on board your airship’s maiden voyage. Even if it did get sabotaged and end up a rather dangerous affair.”

“Me too. I’d have liked to see the Sky Ship launch at least. Even if it had just been from inside a Thunderbird.” Brains said, a little wistfully. “Maybe if they ever build a second one? Ah-although I doubt it after the cost of the damage I caused-”

“You get that idea out of your head this instant!” Penelope scolded. Brains looked up at her, shocked. Whether it was her Tone of voice, or he hadn’t meant to say that bit aloud, she didn’t care.

“You didn’t cause Skyship’s nosedive into a controversial missile base.” She reminded him. “Those villains who killed the crew and then one another did. You saved us. The shoot-out caused the crash. None of the blame rests on your shoulders.”

“I know but it was my design-?” he tried.

“Absolutely none of the events are your fault and the blame does not rest on your shoulders. If anyone has said otherwise, then they are exceptionally stupid.” Penelope challenged. “And if you argue that it is your fault even out of misplaced guilt or the like, I will personally throw you in that pool, in what you are wearing right now!”

“You y-you’re not meant to lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous for at least two weeks?!”

“Then I will get Parkers and Tin-tin’s assistance. Don’t think I won’t!”

Brains gulped.

“…I-I don’t think I’ve ever known you so cross.”

“Likewise!”

“First at Mr Tracy, then me.”

“Jeff was being, pardon my language, an arse. you dear are listening to your insecurities. No one gets to make you feel small, Brains. not even your own thoughts.” Penelope said stubbornly.

Brains nodded slowly. And sighed, “I know the actions of others weren’t my fault. And no one said t-they were. The opposite in fact. But like you said earlier? About being blamed. It wasn’t in my control what happened. But I still feel bad?”

“And that was only after it crashed. I felt bad about being laughed at and I think that reflected in everything else I worked on for a while. And how I was with the Tracy’s.” Brains admitted. “I can design incredible machines. I know that. but having no brief made it e-extra challenging when its s-shouldn’t have been. And then the answer had been under our noses the entire time.”

“isn’t it just like that sometimes?”

“Hmm…also I’ve never heard you swear before? That’s t-twice in an hour now.”

“I blame the heat. It’s clearly getting to me.”

“If Mr Tracy apologises, Will you forgive him? and stay?”

Penny withdrew her hand.

“And if he doesn’t?” she suggested.

No one had called her. No one had stopped her leaving Tracy Island in the first place.

“Well, then my analyzation of the situation would be wrong. But I very much doubt Tin-tin and the Tracy brothers would let you leave without a fight. especially if you called Virgil. Middle brother and chief peacekeeper.”

“Why should I be the one to extend the olive branch?”

“Would I be here if you h-had? Because they're trying to give you space and also they are g-genuinely terrified of upsetting you further.” Brains said. “Scott will say he’s sorry the moment you get him on a private call. He’s admitted aloud he messed up.”

“If he messed up, then so did I. Disastrously so.” Penelope admitted. “With such an abysmal rookie mistake too. I'm surprised I wasn’t let go of on the spot.”

Brains had unfortunately taken a swig of his drink and nearly choked on it.

“Let Go!? You a-are our top agent!”

“That, I doubt.” Penelope said. ��I failed a mission, old boy. Regardless of the weather and the results. The only reason that microfilm was recovered was sheer dumb luck. I didn’t even complete the task, Parker did it for me. All for what? a twisted ankle, bruised ribs and the whole island laughing at or scolding me!”

“We weren’t laughing!”

“It certainly felt like it.”

“w-what did you just tell me about not listening to your own thoughts?” he tried. “I c-could throw you in the pool!”

“Could you? Try it. Dear.” Penelope challenged, with an eyebrow.

Brains slowly backed down. Not without a complaint.

“Why is throwing people and t-things in the pool the biggest threat in my life recently?”

“You are a gentleman.”

“I mean it though. You’re both our friend and the best agent.” Brains insisted. “You go across the world for us, not just London. You’re the only agent he trusts to have a direct link too. And your portrait hangs on the wall. The only one of our networks. Alongside his own sons.”

“…And what if I’m sick of hiding in plain sight?”

It was very quietly asked. She wasn’t sure Brains had heard it. Penelope was about to pretend she hadn’t said it at all and carry on when he spoke again.

“Can you go without? The trills and the subterfuge.” Brains asked. “Sometimes I'm sick of being an inventor. But if I didn’t create? I’d die!”

“Spoke like a true artist…No. I doubt I could retire even if I needed to. And it has been the only enterprise I’ve been in in my life with some moral backbone.” Penelope admitted. “But I know one thing.”

“What’s t-that?”

“I definitely wasn’t made for relaxing when forced too.”

“M-most definitely a Tracy trait.”

“Tosh. I told you, I'm a bad influence on them, remember? But truly, shall we get out of here?” Penelope suggested. “I believe you said our favourite technician mentioned a trip out?”

“I b-believe I did. That's a good idea.” Brains grinned. “So long as this m-means you’re not cross with me for coming out here.”

“No. I'm rather glad you did.” Penelope smiled. “Give me time to change and arrange the car with Parker.”

“I’ll go let Tin-tin know.” Brains agreed getting up. “When will you be back?”

“Will you be coming with us?” Penelope asked with a frown.

“Hmm, no. not s-shopping at least. But I might come for the drive.” He said, “There's also p-plenty of galleries and museums in the town. and a rather fun shooting range just outside of it. Most of us prefer it to the island one even.”

“Oh darling, you love dressing room montage, and you know it.” Penelope teased. “Here. A toast?”

Brains was bemused. But raised his glass anyway. “T-to what?”

“To the whims of Jeff Tracy.” Lady Penelope joked, “And what we put up with sometimes for international rescue.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He beamed. And clinked his glass to hers.

“Oh, and Brains?” She asked. The scientist turned back.

“Y-yes, Penelope?”

“Thank you. For this.” she said sincerely. “I think a ‘little chat’ was long overdue. And far more needed than a holiday.”

[itz-wanderer]

HI

I think ur my fave now so I'm gonna keep requesting <3

I just want Majima with a crush that can't refuse when people offer her things so eat or drink because she finds it rude if she were to, so she just forces herself to eat or drink the thing and almost throws up in the process 😭

I can just imagine

Majima: I poured ya some Sake.

Y/N: Oh my God thank you. *Hates alcohol but takes the cup and downs it in an instant, visibly disgusted and almost throwing up* It's so good ... Thank you.

Why is this hilarious

Hello! I'm so sorry this takes forever 😭 I'm just confused on how to write this and Idk if you're gonna like this one or no but I hope you do 💜 Thanks for requesting and waiting!

Hope you enjoy!

Majima with s/o who can’t refuse offers

- It’s not uncommon when people around you say you’re selfless, always considering others feelings first rather than your own. It’s because refusing offer isn’t one of your specialties. You often find it rude to refuse someone’s offer, or you just feel guilty everytime you refuse their offer. So you start to act and force yourself to drink or eat anything that’s given to you even though you know that it might make you throw up.

- In contrast to Majima’s blunt personality though, he never has problems with telling what’s on his mind. He’s quite confused as to why you struggle with refusing offers, “you shoulda tell ‘em if you don’t want it!” but he never really forced you to do something you were uncomfortable with.

- Then the day comes, when you both go on a date in Kamurocho, you two basically went to every shop that was within sight, With him, time sure went by quick and the sky started getting dark. That’s when you thought that it was time to end the date but instead he invited you in to have a drink with him at his place.

- You quietly stood behind him as Majima was opening the lock to his door. You were nervous cause you had never been inside a guy’s room ever before and from the usual daily soaps you watched, you wondered if Majima’s house too would be unclean like the bachelor boys in those shows.

- To your surprise it wasn't, his house smelt of nothing! You were shocked to see how clean it was with no dishes in the sink, all clothes neatly folded and stacked aside on his bed. It seemed like he might have been running late for the date when he woke up and left it right there.

- “Oh sorry if it's a bit dirty, I forgot to put those back in my wardrobe but yea come have a seat in the living room, i’ll get us the glasses and some drinks”, he said as he walked you into his living room.You sat on the couch and made sure to clear up the table in front as he brought in the drinks with both his hands filled. “Thanks Y/n chan!” he exclaimed as he put the drinks down and poured out a glass for the both of you.

- “Ahhh that hits the spot!!!” he shrieked, finishing his glass in one sip while you struggled to even hold the expensive glass with your clumsy hands. One small sip and you knew it was not for you. But seeing Majima happily chug down his second drink while you still were hanging off the cliff of “Should I drink it or should I tell Majima san I don't drink”.

- “Everything alright Y/N?” he said, which startled you to drink it all in one go making you cough. He watched you in a puzzled face as you asked for a second drink. “Oii you sure you want another? You don't look so good only after having just one”.But nah they sure say that love truly makes a person blind and you dived head first in with that thought.

- Few drinks and your body started revolting and you knew this could end badly. You tried getting up,but your knees gave away from the drowsiness and the next second you threw up all you had drunk on his perfectly clean floor. Majima worriedly got a hold of you and carried you to the restroom while his suit got dirtier making you feel disgusted and thinking he would ghost you after this night is over.

- Majima held your head up and patted your back until everything was out of you. “Baka, why'd you go ahead and drink that much? You could have just said that you can't handle alcohol and we could have done something else… You sure are one hell of a mess Y/N… but… still mine..” he lectured you while your head now rested on his chest.

- “You need to be a bit more firm with your words or anybody would take advantage of your innocence Y/n.”, you almost teared up at his words but managed to hold them in. “I thought you’d be mad cause I messed up so bad and never wanna see my face. “That ain’t true at all. Now why would I be mad at the love of my life?” he said as he picked you back up and walked you over to the couch.

- He holds your face with both his hands and comes closer “You don't need to accept whatever I tell you to do so.. You are your own person with things that you like and love. So make sure you always stand up for yourself and never be afraid to say a firm ‘No’ when you don't want to do something that goes against your morals Y/n chan” he whispers before landing a light kiss on your lips and sitting back down calling in the maid to clean up.

[free-for-all-fics]

Cowboy! Namor/Tenoch AU prompts! 🤠 Got some help brainstorming on these with @okay-hotshot so I can’t take all the credit! I watched Forever Purge again and inspiration hit very hard, so these are very long. Please tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas, I’d love to read it! 💜

1. Tenoch, An incredibly chivalrous cowboy, goes around saving women, demanding only kisses as his reward. Of course, you find this suspicious. One day you’re horse riding when your horse stumbles and almost falls off a small cliff or hill. Tenoch saves you by lasso’ing you in, preventing you from falling and hurting yourself or worse. He uses the rope to pull you towards him. “I rescued you fair and square. Give me my bounty, sweetheart,” and it’s him asking for a kiss. But you won’t give him what he wants so easily.

2. You’re a farmer’s daughter so you tend to the livestock: The cows, chickens, horses, etc. Tenoch comes across your little shack of a home when he’s passing through town. He asks if you could spare a dipper of water from the well. You fetch it for him and can’t help but admire how handsome he is sitting upon his horse, while he’s too busy drinking to notice your staring. You ask if he’d like more but he says “No, thank you.” He gives you a beautiful neck ribbon as thanks before going on his way. You cross paths again when his horse loses its shoe. He’s holding his horse by the reins and walking by when he asks if there’s a farrier or blacksmith nearby. You give directions. He tells you his horse’s name and lets you pet the gentle beast. He asks you again for some water for the journey. You give it to him, letting him fill his canteen. Again he thanks you, this time giving you a bag of fresh sweet potatoes before going on his way.

This goes on and on. With each visit, the things you trade become more of value. Candles in exchange for a blanket, shoes in exchange for a coat, a cow in exchange for a horse, etc. Until you tell him you don’t have anything else to trade. You’re afraid this means he’ll stop coming around. He pretends to think. “Hmmm. Well. That puts us in quite a pickle. You see, I have this beautiful diamond ring. It’s real nice, not just a piece of glass. But if you got no more items to trade, then how about I take you instead - If you’ll have me? You see, I got this nice house out west. But it’s rather big for just me. It has some empty rooms that could be filled. I was thinking with the sounds of a wife. And children, if we’re so blessed.”

3. Ever After inspired: You’re working your family’s farm since your father died. Your father’s horse is the most precious animal of all the ones you care for. He’s fast, strong, thoroughbred, and he was your father’s so there’s sentimental value. One day Cowboy!/Outlaw! Tenoch sneaks onto your farm and tries to steal your father’s horse. You were picking apples, but upon hearing the commotion you run out and throw them at him, which knock him off the horse. You don’t relent and keep throwing apples at him, all while yelling and accusing him of being a thief, despite his pleads that his horse went lame, he had no choice and he only planned on borrowing it. When he stands back up and faces you, you immediately drop to your knees in fear upon seeing his face and realizing this is the cowboy/outlaw with a reputation that precedes him. You’ve heard stories about this man, what he’s been accused of committing. You ask for forgiveness and to be spared since you know now you must die for your insolence. But he’s just like, “Uhhhh. Speak of this to no one and I’ll be lenient. Just this one time.” And he gets back on your father’s horse. He takes out a bag of coins and gives it to you ‘for your silence’ and rides off. But that won’t be the last you see of him. He’ll be back to return the horse.

4. Reader is like Annie Oakley, experienced from a young age in trapping, shooting and hunting. She soon earns a reputation as the best sharpshooter in the region but men underestimate and doubt her constantly because she’s a woman and rather young. Tenoch is an experienced marksman who’s been traveling, not really staying in one place too long - sort of a drifter. You meet him at a shooting contest while he’s in town, which you win. You don’t like Tenoch because he made some comments about your shooting while begrudgingly giving you the money you won in the bet. He doesn’t acknowledge your skill and talents due to your gender and the fact you’re much younger than him.

Until you say, “Well, how about another bet? This time all or nothing. I’ll just use you as target practice since you find my shooting skills so appalling. If I hit the mark, I get to keep your money. If I miss, you get it all back. Unless you’re chicken?”. His pride makes him take your bet, fully confident he’ll win this time. Until you shoot out a cigar from his hand at a distance of 30 paces. This is the start of your journey from rivals to lovers. If someone had told you this man would be your husband, you’d tell them they were crazier than a run-over coon. But love works in strange ways.

5. Prince of Egypt inspired: You and Tenoch meet under different, much weirder circumstances than usual love stories. You both get off on the wrong foot. Some of the children say there’s a man who fell in the well and you don’t believe them until you hear his voice. So you help pull him out and when you see him, you just push him back in like, “Oh. It’s you.”

The children are like, “Miss, this is why you’re never getting married.”

6. There’s a big dust storm/dust bowl and reader meets cowboy Tenoch when she saves him and brings him to shelter or vice versa. They’re total strangers but one of them can’t just leave the other out there to possibly die. Dust storms can last a long time so they may be cooped up inside for a while. Time to get to know each other. And there’s only one bed. As you endure and survive this terrible event together, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world. In this perpetual drought, you’re daydreaming and thinking of running out in the middle of the night to meet cowboy Tenoch and kiss him just as it starts raining.

7. In a small farming community at the height of the dust bowl, a preacher makes a deal with an ancient entity that can control the weather. But there is a terrible cost.

8. Years after the disappearance of the world's most famous western outlaw, you're approached by a middle aged man with a beard who offers you a job to help start a train robbery. When you find out he is the famous outlaw, you, wanting fame, decide to become his apprentice. Years of stone cold killing, robbery, and riding across the dust bowls have turned you into the gritty hardened outlaw you are today. However, you come across something that changes everything.

9. Tenoch, A lone cowboy, is dying when he stumbles upon a ghost town. He decides to camp there for the night. Unfortunately, there's a reason the town's abandoned. He’s approached by two people. Both are working together to save the world from something. Offering the mortal a chance at a new life and redemption, they become a pair of pistols, A worn and rusted one named justice, and a beautiful one named Vengeance.

10. I smelled smoke. I heard a symphony. I felt a dust storm against my face, I tasted a very sour lemon in my mouth. But all I saw was the white wall in my living room. All I heard was the tapping of my typewriter. I haven't left my house in months, but some part of me is on an epic adventure. ‘"Are you flirting or trying to start a fight?" The Outlaw asked The Marshal.’ is the most recent line of my manuscript. It’s late, so I’ll leave it for tonight. The next morning, the main characters of the Outlaw and the Marshal have leapt from the page and are now standing in my home - flesh and blood like any other humans. I look outside for the first time in weeks and the world has become the Wild West. Oh no. My new novel is coming to life, in more ways than one.

11. Folklore/Mythology AU: It’s the 1930’s, and you work on your family’s farm. Your elder brothers have left home to find work to support the family, but you haven’t heard from them lately. You’re unknowing that a major dust bowl is coming to annihilate all of your crops. Suddenly, a mysterious man comes up to your front porch, and warns you of what's about to happen. He can save you, bring you rain or water, but you must prove yourself worthy and sacrifice in return for his salvation.

12. You and your family are trapped in vour house during a vicious dust storm and you're fairly certain there's something else lurking out there amidst the churning grey sand. Something old and powerful. Or someone. Amidst the chaotic dust storm ravaging the Earth, you rush to save your sister - but as you reach for her, she's pulled into a vortex. You have to follow her, so you emerge with her, leaving behind your parents and finding yourselves in a world far unlike the normal. Its whispered name resounds... Talokan.

13. One day some strange spores were discovered in the soil after a particularly bad dust storm. These spores don't affect humans at all, but anything else starts to experience changes, changes seemingly designed specifically to cause as much damage to human civilization as possible. It’s up to you to find out who or what caused these spores to grow, before the damage becomes irreparable. You weren’t expecting your investigation to lead you to being kidnapped by blue people and held captive in a hidden underwater kingdom called Talokan. Their king has declared war on the surface world and implemented silent warfare. Humans will never know what killed them. They’ll blame anything or anyone and turn against each other in their panicked desperation for survival, but none of it will matter. But you know too much and must be kept silent. No human has been smart enough to find Talokan before. Maybe you’re more useful to Namor alive than dead.

14. You're an American outlaw in the Wild West. You've just arrived at another town, after having been chased out of the last one by bounty hunters. You hide your face, you're well-known after all. Entering the saloon, you sit down. A man quickly offers to buy you a drink. Suspicious. You nod. One drink becomes another and you ended up in bed with the stranger. In a dingy motel room, he was yours for the night. But he was gone by sunrise, before you woke up. Months later, after being taken away from your gang in a failed ambush attempt, you spend years of your life in captivity. Your gang forgets you. You find a way to escape to Mexico and return to your gang’s old hideout there. You appear but rifles are pointed to you, only one face seems familiar: The man who shared a drink with you in the saloon. His name is Tenoch and looks like he’s stepped up as leader in your absence. Did he set you up? Maybe, maybe not.

15. Tenoch is an outlaw in the 1800's and kills a man who attempted to rob him on the road. When he loots him, he finds a wedding ring, along with a note that reads, "In the event of my death, the man that kills me must become the new husband of my wife. Good luck." When most people get married, they get a whole new family of inlaws. It turns out you, on the other hand, have just married into a family of outlaws when your new husband shows up and kidnaps you.

16. Tenoch is smug like, “Looks like the bounty hunter has become the captive,” when he kidnaps you. But he’d immediately shoot his own guys if they stepped too far out of line because no one messes with you or disrespects him. That’s why he’s so scary and intimidating. His own men may not mean much to him unless it’s his right hand guy. Lots of his men could be expendable. No liabilities, no loose ends. While you’re his captive, he has to keep close watch to make sure you don’t try to escape or do anything foolish. This means instances of you, naked and in the river, with Tenoch sitting on a rock nearby.

You: Are you always this much of a gentleman with the women you meet? watching their every move and stripping them of their dignity while they try to clean themselves?

Tenoch: You are hardly a woman for breaking and entering with the intent of either arresting or killing me.

You: And you are hardly a man for holding a woman's clothes hostage.

Tenoch: The only hostage is me by being in your presence.

You: You can leave me be and free yourself from this torment if my presence vexes you this badly.

Tenoch, laughing: And deprive myself of getting under your skin? i'll take my chances, princesa.

17. Tenoch is an outlaw with a ruthless reputation. The one person he cherishes more than anything in this world, his little sister, writes a heart felt letter to him in an attempt to break through to him, forgive him for his past sins and have him come home.

18. Secret of Shadow Ranch inspired: In March of 1883, Tenoch fell in love with the sheriff’s beautiful daughter. He would bring her back souvenirs from his adventures and correspond through letters. Even though he was an outlaw and a bank robber, the sheriff’s daughter grew to love him just as deeply. Tenoch assured her that he never used his gun on anyone and stole only from rich people who didn't deserve the money- even though he reportedly robbed a train that was intended to pay miners. In September of 1883, he hid a very special treasure he was hoping to give to the sheriff’s daughter, but before he could, he was arrested by the sheriff himself. Tenoch sent the sheriff’s daughter a letter, assuring her he’d be out soon and they’d be together, not knowing it’d be his last. He was sentenced to the gallows nine days later, at noon.

After Tenoch’s death, The sheriff’s daughter stopped speaking to her father. She took her horse and rode away from home in the middle of the night, never to return. She was never seen or heard from again. It’s been decades since that day. "Sheriff, you've gotten old, frail. Tell me, where is my sweetheart?" The former sheriff looked up to see the ghost standing in the doorway of his cabin. A ghost of a man who looked a lot like the outlaw whom he sentenced to death for stealing his daughter’s heart.

19. You’re an outlaw in the mid west, but you aren't a gunslinger. Others make fun of you for always carrying knives in a land where the gun rules. Every time you get challenged to a duel, you bring knives to a gun fight, and you show them why you carry knives. Two weeks ago, the Sheriff sent a posse of 10 gunmen to take in Tenoch, a very dangerous outlaw, preferably dead. Every group sent to capture or kill him has wound up missing or eventually found dead. Today, a lone rider returns. That lone rider is you. You bring back proof of his death, so he’s definitely dead…Or is he?

20. It’s the 19th century. Reader is a former movie actress and stage performer whose horse was formerly used for stunts. You never made it big, but you look back on your acting work fondly. You’re both retired, and the spoiled horse loves you so much that it’ll be very dramatic and play dead if anyone tries to ride it except you. Your horse is also a very deep sleeper, so you’ve had concerned neighbors call you or the cops about the “dead” horse outside.

You hire cowboy! Tenoch to help work your farm because you’re running it all by yourself since you’re widowed/unmarried and childless. You need an extra hand. You were working it with your brother but he just left for whatever reason. Cue reader and cowboy! Tenoch working the land. He chops wood and manages the crops, sometimes shirtless depending on how hot it is, while reader manages the house and livestock. Reader brings him fresh lemonade when they both take a break from the day’s chores. You give him room and board in the house, letting him use your brother’s old room and clothing, whatever he left behind. But uh oh you’re catching feelings for each other, especially when Tenoch forms a bond with your horse and gets it to trust him. When you watch Tenoch ride your horse, you can’t help fanning yourself. Things are getting hot and steamy and it’s not just because of the summer heat.

21. Cowboy Tenoch with a horse that loses its shit every time reader is in the vicinity, and he doesn't know why. Until the horse finally bucks him off one day and goes running to reader. Then he realizes that the horse used to belong to reader but their family sold it. So now they ask to visit his ranch to spend time with the horse. They proceed to spend time together and fall in love.

22. Cowboy!/outlaw! Tenoch brings in a new horse but this horse is like a black sheep and is being super difficult with its temperament. It constantly bucks and thrashes, gears up on its hind legs and throws riders off its back because it doesn’t want any man to ride it. It’s this prized thoroughbred Tenoch and his guys may or may not have stolen so they can’t just get rid of it. But then the men and maybe even Tenoch are scoffing when reader wants to try taming it. “No man can tame this beast.”

“I am no man!” Eowyn moment from reader when, even after she’s expressly forbidden from going near the horse, she disobeys and gets on the horse bare back. The horse immediately whinnies and gallops away. When Tenoch hears the commotion he’s like, “ARE YOU CRAZY??” And gets on another horse to chase after her and the loose cannon horse. But then mid-ride, reader is able to tame the horse and get it to slow down and relax into a nice trot. Tenoch and his guys are flabbergasted as they stop and get off their horses. They throw their hats off and slap their knees in disbelief. “I don’t believe it! I flat out don’t believe it! How did you do that??”

“What this horse needs is a gentler approach, a woman’s touch. Guess it’s my horse now?” Reader is impressed with herself and a little smug. Checkmate to all these men.

23. The oceans have dried up. Humanity, desperate for survival, builds towers to evade the eternal dust storm below, rationing their supplies in the process. This is the start of the first century without rain. What if Talokan was a hidden oasis in the desert? People have heard of Talokan but believe it’s a myth because of how so many people have died trying to find it. They have a general sense of where it is, there have been stories of seeing shadows on the mountains that look too much like humans, but they don't move. They just stare at anything that walks by. Old stories have said the area used to flourish with plants and animals but it’s now barren. There are remnants of old dead trees decaying in the sand.

You’re a bounty hunter with a bit of a reputation and you were hired by your city to capture the so-called leader of Talokan to repay a debt. Or some big bad went missing in your city and you were tasked in bringing them back, but it was rumored they were last seen trying to find refuge in Talokan. It’s a suicide mission but this is your last mission. Without realizing it, you've gotten close enough to the Talokanil borders and you think you found them when you see a figure in the sand, but you're not entirely sure. You're about to pass out from the heat, but you'd be damned if you're this close to getting them.

Little did you know, it was the infamous K'uk'ulkan. So naturally, you shoot at him and miss, but you were so close. You're frustrated and angry at this point and now Namor is trying to figure out who the fuck and why the fuck he's being shot at by a random woman in the middle of a desert and why you're out for his blood, so he comes after you and soon it's a game of cat and mouse. He very much could kill you but he's more amused because goddamn he's never seen a woman so angry and agitated before that he finds it amusing. You pass out and when you wake up, you're bound and he's watching you. It's just a stare-down between the two of you until he throws you over his shoulder and you're either cursing him the entire time or just resigned and decide to annoy him because you know he's not gonna let you go.

24. For centuries, Namor has been testing humans to see who’s worthy to know the secrets of Talokan. The test involves humans going out into the desert alone, with only the clothes on their backs and one item of their choosing. No water, no food. They must endure for three days. If they try to get help from others or turn back before the trial ends, they fail. If they can't resist and give in to any temptation, they fail. Nobody has passed the test except for you and Namor doesn’t know how to deal with it. This has never happened before.

Maybe he doesn’t have powers but there’s still myths and legends that he can fly or that he’s an old being. It’s just folklore. No one who has tried to capture the King has survived but before you eventually fall in love and elope with him, there are urban legends that you’re the only one who ever got close enough to catch him. When you elope with him, people think you disappeared or were killed by him but there are people who say they’ve spotted him riding a horse with a woman behind him. No one really knows what happened to you. They think it could be you or your ghost.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Lullaby 'Cross The Void

(I have the flu. First time. It sucks. My oc must suffer too, but also comfort. What are these Mummy Issues of which you speak? Set in @idiotwithanipad 's Moving On series, after Exile)

-

She could throttle that boy!

He promised. He swore to her on the stars themselves not to breathe a word of what she almost did that night. She thought he understood her pain, her confusion, how demons can throw strings 'pon a person's mind and puppet them to do what they never thought they were capable of.

That had been her moment of madness. Her greatest shame. Silver was never supposed to know. T'weren't necessary for her to.

Just to hurt. T'is all he'd wanted to do, to win their silly spat.

As soon as that ragamuffin gets sucked off, she will slam that dull head of his with her own till it doth crack like a goose egg. For the first time since she arrived in this land, she misses her fire and smoke. She misses having something to channel her rage into. Not that she'd ever had cause to be this angry since.

"Not to play savage advocate, love...But looks like 'e regrets his words to her, same as you regret nearly burnin' the child." Annie reasoned after watching Mary shout abuse at the image of Robin in the waterfall for almost an hour.

"I care not! Let him wallow in his shame! My little'en be sufferin' and the one I did rely on most to care for her in my absence hath wounded her beyond repair." She responds, tears of fury pricking her eyes; "Now she casts herself out, all alone. My darling girl. Be there no one to give hers succour?"

Wiping her soot-free face, she reached her hand to stroke across the vertical water's surface, over the image of Silver crying on that log, in the middle of the woods. How cold she does look, even for one not able to feel the chill of the Autumn night. Mary's arms ache to wrap themselves around the child and hold her tight, take all the pain away.

No matter how loud she explains herself to the waterfall, how much she tries to convey that her sinful attempt was never about Silver herself, it will be for nothing. Her words, her love, none of it can reach her.

Sometimes she wonders if this window into the Before World is more of a curse than a blessing.

"Where be the other little'en?" She asks Annie.

"Still on that cliff. The sky doth darken from her misery." The Puritan sighed, "Not sure my efforts to comfort her brought much fruit."

"The potion of citrus and anxiety did not raise her spirits?"

"Not even a smile. But she did drink it. And she yet to throw herself over the edge."

"Perhaps it be best she does. Then she may teach herself to fly." Mary smiled, "T'is hard for any soul to be morose when soaring on the winds."

"Maybe wes can go flying later on? You is need of cheering too, my love." Annie reached to stroke her hair behind the taller woman's ear.

The temptation was there. Maybe they could try to convince little Amy to come with them.

Then her eyes fell back to the waterfall. To Silver.

Silver without her Amy. Without Robin.

How could she abandon her too? It didn't matter if she wasn't aware of her presence. If her vigil brought even a smidgen of comfort to the girl, then she had to stay.

-

"And so this Fluffy-."

"Buffy."

"Rights. She be younger than yourself and fightin' all these demons."

"Yeah, she's a total badass." Silver gushed, skipping across the rocks beside the lake.

"But you say she also let's them seduce her?"

"Well...one or two. Three if you count that thing with Dracula." The Pagan shrugged; "Girls love a bad boy. Or girl. Like, uhm...Wuthering Heights? Or Jane Eyre?"

"Oooh, I do recall her Ladyship watchin' them on the little box!"

"Well it's kinda like that, but the men are vampires and the women fight more. I doubt Heather will be buying the dvd set any time soon. Shame, I think you'd like it." She giggled, jumping off the final rock, "Especially Willow."

"She be a tree?"

"No!" Silver chortled, "She's a good witch, like me! And she has a girlfriend, Tara. Those two influenced little me a lot growing up as you can tell."

"Ooh, sounds like a thrillin' romp."

Mary could listen to the child talk about her favorite stories from the telly, as well as the myths about her favorite heathen gods, for hours on end.

The girl did always seem to brighten at any chance to chatter about her favorite things to anyone who listened. Many of the others in the big house had no patience for rambling, as Mary herself knew, so she was happy to indulge their newest ghost.

Birds began to chirp in the treetops as they awoke, though the sky remained dark. Mary had always been one of the first to wake, a habit from her farming life she'd never been able to shake. Where once she would wander the land alone, the girl is always up and abouts at all hours during her cycle.

"Next time I'll tell you about Charmed. Not as good as Buffy but still lots of cool witches defeating mostly blokes." Silver promised.

"Do all your favorite tales involve witches?"

"Uhmm...Not always. I mean there's Friends. But I suppose that has Phoebe and she's kinda witchy." The Pagan blushed; "Guess I am kinda a one track mind."

"Nothin' be wrong with that, sweetling. You has your good witches, I has my potatoes." The two shared a laugh at that.

Silver's eyes moved to a set of pale weeds close to the bank.

"Aww, look at all those dandelions. I wonder if ghosts can make wishes on them."

"Ain't stopped me from tryin' all these years." Mary confessed, taking the girls hand.

They knelt down together and tried to blow the seeds into the air.

"Oooh, Is think wes almost doing it, little'en!" Mary cooed as a couple of the seeds began to float off into the air.

"Pretty sure that's the wind."

"Ah, what if we is the wind. Ain't that what you said you thought we became 'pon death? One with Mother Nature."

"Yeah...You were listening to that?"

"'Course I was, silly." Mary reached to ruffle the top of the girl's hair; ""Cor, what I'd give to have a brush to sort that barnet of yours out, it be as untidy as Robin's."

"Shut up, it's not that bad!" Silver ducked, though her cheeks reddened at the offer.

Mary suspected, with a twist of her gut, the child had never been sat upon her mother's knee to be groomed with much tenderness.

"What did you wish for?" Asked Silver.

"Oh, you knows better than to ask someone's to utter that, darlin'." Mary said with a poke to her nose.

"Was it about Annie?"

"Oh, I should never have revealed her to you. Nosy little nymph that you be."

They pushed themselves up to their feet. Silver grinned and began to twirl, humming some modern melody, letting the floating dandelion seeds hover around her. Mary watched her with a besotted smile. The little witchling, dancing among scattered wishes.

"I wished to find someone like that. Don't think there's any harm in saying that, if the Goddess wants it to happen for me." Silver smiled, contently.

"She better or Is be havin' words. Yous deserve to find your Annie, little'en."

The girl shone like the dawn, just as said light began to pierce the early morning sky.

Then Silver's feet twisted beneath her and she fell.

"Shit!"

"Silver?" Mary knelt down, reaching for the teenager; "What ails thee, pet?"

The girl struggled to lift her head, "Nearly coma time. Must have lost track..."

"Oh!"

Mary had not witnessed the transition between Silver waking to her falling under her curse before. It was typically Robin at her side, Robin who carried her to her sleeping spot in the woods. But the caveman was currently resting soundly on the living room floor after he and Patrick watched a marathon of those movies left on the box, about the apes taking over the world.

She was surprised by how weak the child now looked, her energy sapped in but the blink of an eye. The way her skin turned pale and she struggled to lift her limbs, t'was as if she be struck down with consumption, without the hacking cough.

"How long do you has left with us?" Mary asked.

"...Usually 'bout twenty minutes. 'Till the sun properly shows itself." She explained, followed by a yawn.

"Can ye walk?"

The girl answered by trying to test that for herself. She barely propped herself on one knee before crumbling like a paper doll again.

"Hehehe...nope."

Mary tutted; "How doth it feel?"

She shrugged, head listing to one side; "Bit like the flu. My joints go all stiff and sore when I try to move. And my head weighs a ton. S'like the batteries in my body have run out."

"Ey?"

"Uhm....Like the stream has gone dry and there's nothing to spin the water wheel?" She tried again.

"Ah! I sees." Mary nodded, then stroked the girl's hair; "Oh your poor, sweet thing. I hads no idea. I always assumed it were but a sudden fainting before you slept?"

"That would be better." Silver huffed.

She began to curl forward upon the grass.

"Oh, little one. You cants sleep here in the field, the Ladyships gardener will trample thee." Mary fussed, running her fingers across Silver's clammy forehead.

"S'fine...Just fetch Robin when he gets up, he'll move me...." the girl said, eyelids fluttering.

"Tush and flops! I don'ts need no silly boy to help me tends to thee!"

"What you-?"

Mary tucked her arms beneath the girl and lifted her up as she rose, securing her against her front. The child let out a brief sound of surprise before sliding her arms around Mary's neck to help.

"Wow...Julian was right. You are freakishly strong." Silver smiled, eyes glinting, impressed.

"Life of toiling the land since I were old enough to walk, little'en." She explained as she began walking towards the woods; "Skinny thing like you do weigh no more than a newborn lamb."

"Thanks!" The girl snorted. She yawned, leaning her head against the woman's shoulder.

Mary carried the child with relative ease towards the trees, following the trail of cornflowers towards the mound which the girl had claimed as her resting spot.

"Yous sure I cants convince thee to rest in the big house? There be plenty of free rooms for your picking."

"You say this every month....Thanks for the offer, but m'fine out here...."

"Suit yourself. Strange little urchin."

Mary clicked her tongue as she knelt and laid the young woman atop the mound. She did look oddly comfy as her head fell upon the flowers and she settled amongst them, the sharp pink of her fringe set against the striking blue of the petals.

Sitting beside her, the older woman continued to pick and stroke at her hair, smiling down at her.

"You reminds me of my husband." She confesses, her heart aching a little; "He always loved his fanciful tales and saw the joy in every little thing."

"Did you..." She yawned again, wider this time; "D'you love him?"

She nodded, leaning down on her elbow and resting her head on her hand.

"Greatly so."

"You're lucky. You got...two loves of your life..." the girl smiled, those sapphire eyes growing smaller by the second.

Three, thought Mary, gazing affectionately at the sweet ray of moonlight in her afterlife.

"Close them eyes, little'en. Time to visit your dreamland." She coaxes, smoothing her finger down her cheek, same as she once did to her own baby girl in her crib all them centuries ago.

Silver obeys, resting her eyes, chest slowly rising and falling as she settles.

"G'night..."

"'Nighty night, darling. Rest well." Mary whispers. She then sang as the child drifted off, just as the sun made its appearance over the horizon.

A lullaby of old English terms of endearment, barely even recognisable to modern ears. But one her mother had sung to her in her cradle, and her mother before hers, going back possibly to Eve herself, or so Mary had been raised to believe.

It's many hours before she leaves the child's side. Robin appears shortly after eight, looking fretful and guilty for having overslept, but relieved when he finds Mary close to his Moonah Girl, still stroking her hair and gazing at her with pure devotion.

All those doubts and fears and prejudices that had caused her to nearly do the unthinkable all those months before, now felt like a bad dream, barely worth remembering.

And that's how it was supposed to stay.

-

Mary still sings. Any time she looks in on her girl through the magic waters and sees her sleeping - which is most of the time - she sings her mother's lullaby.

"May the winters pass, may night turn to day,

For I do miss thee, gentle heart,

All these many miles away..."

It's the third night of the full moon, back in that world at least. There are many glorious moons in the skies of this land, some silver, others violet or emerald, some as large as Jupiter while others small but dance in circles.

Silver will be falling asleep soon. The dreadful fatigue will pull her under and there will be no loving arms to carry her to bed and see that she's comfy.

A pox on thee, Robin. Sort that filthy head out and get to the girl's side with haste! Fix this!

He promised. He swore to her...

Mary chokes out a sob. In troth, it were not merely Robin she were vexed with. The blame lay at her door too. Had she been honest with the child, had she confessed to her sins when she'd been present, this would not be happening. And she'd have had a chance to explain herself. Silver would at least be aware of all the facts instead of drowning in doubt and rejection as she did now.

But Mary had been a coward. Scardy cat. Once she'd let Silver into her heart, found the daughter she thought she'd never have again, she'd been so terrified of losing her again. As she had her and John's firstborn. As she'd lost Annie.

Forgive me, I beg. Forgive me.

Silver's tears were as much on her hands as Robin's. Except he had a chance to atone where she did not. At least, not until her darling girl was finally sucked off.

"I is here, little'en. I's always here." She sighed, watching the girl weep alone.

Except...

She was no longer alone. There was someone else with her now. Someone...sat with her on the log, cradling her sleeping form on his lap, bundling her in a thick red cloak.

Body Bit?

He had come to tend to her? Not Robin? Mary watched with awe as his hand stroked the girl's hair as she curled into him, eyes shut, black marks staining her cheeks from all the crying.

Oh. Was he mistaking her for his own little'en? Did the husk not understand...?

They had traded daughters, it seemed.

Whether conscious of it or not, he was caring for her little'en now. Mary sniffed and got to her feet, smoothing down her dress. Annie had already gone back to check on Amy. T'was time that Mary joined her.

She voiced a promise to Silver through the water to return soon. But her presence not be of use to her now. She's not leaving her child alone. In the body's arms, she'd be safe.

And the last thing Silver would want is for her dear companion to feel as lost and lonely as she.