#i made this and i am very tender about it and also its my first piece of art so please don't say anything about it

[denimshortsdean]

To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

I think about them meeting at night all the time - maybe that's what's easiest for them? to meet in dreams.

[dollita-fawn]

i have a request🙏🙏i aint even gonna ask anonymously i am requesting this LOUD AND PROUD🦅🦅

female reader x wesker

reader and wesker work together and its like 2am since theyre working late and they go outside for some fresh air and share a cigarette together 😇😇😇 and that leads to them having the most disgraceful make out session ever and then wesker is needy asf that man is a brat and by the end of it he just leaves the readers legs shaking n sobbing 🦅

p.s- i love your writing its really good!! 🎀

Partner in Crime ☽｡⋆

pairings- Boss! Wesker x Fem! Assistant? reader

a/n- THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING REQUEST ! and im so glad you like my writing I really appreciate it <3 hope you enjoy this one (not proofread because im lazy)

NSFW WARNING :

contains- needy Wesker, Wesker planned to use reader as an experiment prior, unspoken romantic feelings, unprotected sex, brief use of pet names, age gap (reader is 20 and Wesker is 44) , breeding kink/ baby trapping ? ☁︎

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Wesker had a plan for you from the very moment he laid his eyes on you. He had a keen eye for pretty little things such as you.

He figured you’d be easy to lure in. You were young, presumably naive and easy to manipulate.

He never suspected you’d become one of his most valuable and loyal assets. You were far from incompetent, he was entirely wrong about that.

Originally, you were nothing more than a test subject in his mind. You would be in his ongoing experiment into the development of the T-Virus. He would have you as a guinea pig, studying your blood, tissue, cells—anything you've got available—and then using it as test samples for further research.

Upon further studies, Wesker realized that you did possess an intelligence and ingenuity rivaling his own.

He came to realize that working with you was a far more effective way to achieve his overall goals for the future. With you by his side, he knew he could complete his experiments at a faster pace than he ever could on his own.

He needed someone just like you who was smart, cunning, and willing to do the dirty work necessary to advance his research.

So he changed tactics and began to work on winning you over, first by flattery and compliments, then by subtle manipulation and coercion. He knew that with enough time, you'd fall right into line.

You started to trust him, and even felt a little bit attracted to him. He had a way with words and his sharp intelligence made him even more appealing. You felt like he saw into your soul and understood everything about you. You felt connected to him. You had similar desires for the world.

Soon, you became his right hand man, doing most of his infiltration work. He has you sneaking around in secret missions, gathering information, and collecting samples of needed viruses. You become his most trusted associate and he relies upon you to carry out his darkest duties. You’re the one he trusts with all of his unspoken secrets.

Except for one.

He is capable of feeling love, and despite his attempts to hide it, he can't help but harbor growing feelings towards you. He would never admit it to anybody—especially not to himself—but there is a certain appeal and tenderness to you that he cannot deny.

It’s a secret that he would rather take to his grave, but it is also one of the few things that keeps him going throughout his dark and twisted journey.

You are the perfect girl for him. You understand him in a way that no one else can, carrying incomparable knowledge and morality. You see beyond the corruption and to the person underneath. You make him feel something that he has never felt before—an emotion that drives him to do things he never thought possible.

You are his strength and his weakness, the one thing that he can't live without.

The two of you worked hand in hand, never butting heads.

After you obtained the needed sample, fulfilling his orders, you both researched and developed the Plaga together, coming up with new ways to use it as a weapon.

You worked late nights, often staying up for days on end as you worked towards making the idea of complete global saturation a soon to be reality.

You are always there when he needs an able mind, helping to guide the progression of the project.

No matter the day of the week, the time, or how little you’re rewarded. You fulfill your duties promptly.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You’re both working late tonight; as always, just the two of you in the lab.

Wesker can’t deny how much he enjoys your company on its own, but even so, he tried his damndest to prioritize his evolution. He knew he more than likely was capable of completing these tasks on his own. But he liked it better with you around.

He hates not having you right at the hip, knowing you’re fully devoted to his cause.

He wasn’t entirely debased, he knew you were often overworked at his selfish call. You pushed yourself for him. “Up for a smoke break?” he suggests, putting his handy-work aside for a moment.

“Sure. Could use some fresh air.”

You don’t smoke very often, but you find yourself craving one right now. It's been a long night, and this is a nice chance to clear your head.

Wesker stands silently next to you as you arrive outside, staring off into the distance and taking puffs from his cigarette.

He offers it to you, and you draw closer to him.

You take a drag, enjoying the taste and the feel of his body next to yours. You feel your body relax, and the tension in your shoulders easing. The smoke fills your lungs with a tranquil warmth.

You continue to slowly take puffs from the cigarette, ashing back and forth with Wesker. The nicotine is having its desired effect, and you feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as the stress of the night slips away.

But you can hardly be calm with each passing.

There’s no denying the tension between you. His hand brushes against yours every chance it gets as you’re already standing against each other. Your breaths mix together at each exhale of smoke.

Neither of you are speaking but you don’t have to. Great minds think alike after all.

He makes the first move, growing tired of holding back.

Dropping the cig, you’re suddenly pressed against the concrete wall of the building, his lips completely devouring yours.

In no way do you resist.

He cups your face gently but he kisses you with intense need, his breath coming out in burning gasps into your mouth.

He made no attempt at being tidy. His saliva mixes with yours, aching to become one with you. He presses against you, longing to feel your form in full. His leg delves between yours, his knee hiking further up your tight, pencil skirt.

The contact against your sensitive bundle of nerves brings out a moan, only increasing Wesker’s oncoming thirst.

But you stop his hand as he cups you through the thin fabric of your panties, causing him to pull away conflicted. He thought you were on the same page.

“Too fast for you?”

You lay your head against his shoulder for a moment, hiding your embarrassment.

The simple gesture makes his stomach flutter. You got so overwhelmed so easily from his actions. He found it adorable.

“We shouldn’t…” you mumble, though your words contradict your actions.

“And why shouldn’t we? I’m fairly certain we both want this.”

Really you had no reason why you shouldn’t. And as he presses desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, suckling and tracing with the tip of his tongue, you lose all common sense.

Your hands unclasp his leather belt, swiftly removing it from the loops.

As you work the button of his pants, unzipping and dragging them down, he takes it as a green light, dropping your panties to your ankles. You step your heel covered feet out of them, discarding them to the dirt of the ground without care.

Wesker firmly flips you around, pressing your face into the wall and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand. The other bunches your skirt up over your ass, exposing you to the cool night air.

“Think you can handle me, darling?” He asks rhetorically. You were going to take it either way, you were already this far. Right in his hold.

He teased his hardness between the slick of your folds, the heat making you feel woozy.

He slapped it against your clit a couple times before positioning to your opening, teasing in and out with just the tip. You curve backwards into it, yearning for more than just teasing and he slides in fully with a low grunt.

You suck him in, greedily backing up on further on him.

At the stance you’re in, the head of his cock pokes and prods at just the right angle with every buck of his hips, making you mewl out embarrassingly loud.

Wesker slams into your tight cunt so fast he slips out a few times. You were oozing with arousal, drenching around his cock so much he could hardly keep it together.

He keeps his strong grip on your wrists, keeping you bound while he stuffs you full. “Feels so good…” he growls out, “Can’t believe I waited this long to feel you like this.”

“Can’t take it-“ you cry out in response to his merciless pounding. He doesn’t slow or even consider, instead propelling even further.

“You can, and you will.”

Take it like the good little slut that you are.” he coos, “You can do it darling. Take all of me.”

Tears fill your lash line, threatening to spill as he continues, the pleasure overriding all of your senses. You couldn’t think straight, only standing because of his robust hold on you.

Your legs go wobbly, tears spilling out as you reach your climax, the best you’d ever had. You fall completely limp, brain gone dumb.

He loses his small bit of control, cock pulsing and twitching inside you as his cum bursts out without warning.

His mind goes fuzzy, his mouth pouring out whiny ‘I love you’s along with your name repeatedly without thinking about it, feeling too over the moon to care about the repercussions of his words.

He meant them. You were his everything, and he was sure to make it so you remained that way.

So he fills you up with his sticky seed, needing you to cary that constant reminder of him within you.

He was going to keep you as his own, no matter the cost.

[wysteria-bloom]

honkai star rail x f!reader - random prompts

-

characters : caelus, welt, sampo, gepard, dan heng

warnings : none! :) sfw

a/n : im obsessed with this game and its characters!! Huohuo and sampo have my whole heart ❤️❤️ requests are 100% open for hsr, so feel free to suggest whatever ideas you have and i will write them! Be mindful that I am currently moving onto the second story chapter so i wont know stuff about jing yuan or blade!! I'm definitely doing one with the girl characters after this one-

Prompt : ̗̀➛Caelus touching [name]'s face and telling her that her face is really soft.

When talking with Caelus, you typically notice the far-off look he gets in his eyes. It’s as though his mind is in a distant land and yet his physical form is present here, with you.

It was an endearing trait of his, but also irritating. Especially when you’re trying to explain something extremely important to him.

He was definitely an odd one…

I mean, the first time you had met him he was head-first in a trash can searching for… something.

But… his strange quirks are what drew you to him. The times where he seemed emotionless were actually the times where he was the most gentle… and the times where he is the most aggressive he comes across as seemingly unhinged.

You were definitely down bad for this strange raccoon guy whom had a literal nuke within him.

Yeah, if your parents were still around they definitely wouldn’t be proud of your choices.

Sighing at the distant look in his eyes, you clicked your fingers in front of his face, frowning when he didn’t even blink,” Oi- Caelus!” You called out, frown deepening further when he didn’t respond,” Yahoo~? Astral Express to Caelus??”

He didn’t budge.

Biting your lip in frustration you went to pinch his cheeks but you were found frozen in shock when Caelus had, in fact, beaten you to it. His fingers were rough from how much he’s been swinging that destructive bat around but they had a comforting warmth surrounding them, and when mixed with the blush on your cheeks you felt as though your face could be considered a heat hazard at this point.

He pinched at your cheeks with a concentrated expression, fingers rubbing your skin gently like he was testing the feeling of it, deciding whether he liked it or not.

It was weird.

He was weird.

But fuck, was it adorable to you.

A hum slipped through his lips and he stopped pinching your cheeks, seemingly deciding on something as he just sort of cupped your face gently in his hands instead.

You blinked up at him in embarrassment and utter confusion,”… You gonna explain what’s going on in that strange head of yours orr…?”

A small smile curled onto his lips as his amber eyes swirled with affection and warmth,” Your skin is very soft… I like it.” He complimented bluntly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to further emphasise his point.

You were silent for a long moment before furrowing your brows,” I-I… thank you??”

“No problem.”

Prompt : ̗̀➛Welt using [Name]'s lap as a pillow.

It had been a long day seemingly, and Welt felt as though he just wanted to collapse into a black hole.

Maybe even one of his own.

March was a lovely girl but her social personality was tiring… and she clashes too much with Dan Heng. It was like babysitting rowdy siblings.

When he had made it into the Astral Express with an exhausted cloud hanging over him, you noticed it almost immediately. You could pick it out from a crowd of people.

When he saw you his tired gaze seem to soften a little, an ounce of tenderness within them,”… We are never having kids.”

You let out a laugh as he made his way over to you, his head hanging ever so slightly,” Guessing the youngsters were a little too much for you?” You cooed out gently, watching his stiff movements with pity,” oh, dear… surely they weren’t that bad?”

“No, no… they were that bad.” He corrected as he sat down next to her huffing slightly,” I feel drained.”

“Hmm… thats the joy of children.” You teased lightly, gazing softly into his honey-coloured eyes as you pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose for him,” Do you want to sleep in my room for a while?”

“…” He watched her, studying your expression and feeling his admiration and love for you slowly consuming him.

Perhaps his exhaustive state was affecting his ability to think logically.

Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to beleive -

But when he found himself moving to lay his head in your lap, he felt as though nothing else in the world mattered to him except for how you make him feel.

You blinked in surprise for a moment at his actions, your hands frozen in the air before you slowly began to card your fingers through his hair. Smiling down at him in amusement you raised a brow,” Is my lap comfortable, love?”

“Well… I’m not uncomfortable.” He answered ambiguously, closing his weary eyes.

I chuckled lightly at that response, continuing to scratch at his scalp gently with my comforting fingers. He hummed in approval,” That’s nice…”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm…”

I sighed a little,” You can’t fall asleep on my lap, Welt.”

“ I disagree… I think this is a perfectly optimal place for me to rest.”

“My legs will die.”

“… a small price to pay.”

Sighing once more, a weak smile curled onto your lips as you took his glasses off for him, setting them to the side,” Alright, alright… Sweet dreams, love.”

There was a small curve to his lips at these words as he began to drift off.

Prompt : ̗̀➛Sampo teaching [Name] how to kiss

“Oh~? Well if it isn’t one of my dearest friends! [name], what brings you to the underground, huh?” Sampo cooed out with his usual easy-going smile on his lips, the sight of you filling his heart with genuine joy.

You blink up at him blankly before humming,” I came to speak with you, actually.” You answered honestly, arms crossing over his chest.

His placed a hand where his heart would be, a fake-shocked look on his face,” Moi?? Why, what a wonderful surprise!” He leaned down a little so he was looking eye-to-eye with you,” My heart swoons at the fact you think about me, doll! How endearing of you~”

You click your tongue, eyes narrowing up at him,” Don’t get too cocky, moron. I came down to make a purchase, not to see you personally.”

He ignored the disappointment he felt as he deflated slightly,” Ehhh? A purchase?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow,” I’m afraid I don;t have many valuable relics in stock at the moment—“

“I want to buy… a-advice.”

“Ehhhhh??” He was even more confused,” I understand I’m a veteran in this business and everything, but you don’t need to buy advice from me, doll. I can just give it to ya.”

You frowned a little at his response and just decided to rip the bandage off, eyebrows furrowing in determination,” Sampo… I want advice on how to kiss somebody.” You stated bluntly and full of purpose.

His eyebrows raised at that answer…’ Who is she prepping to kiss, I wonder?… lucky guy/girl.’ His heart felt like it was breaking.

“Huh? Why do you need to learn a skill like that?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,” You planning on fooling around with someone, [name]? How scandalous—“

“No.” You interrupted instantly, bitting your lip to keep yourself from spilling information.

“What makes you think I would be good at kissing?”

“…. Do I really have to answe that?…”

“Yes, please.”

“No… you’d have to pay me if you want to hear that kind of praise from me.”

“Hmmm… I dunno…”

Her eyebrows furrowed,”… I will pay you handsomely if you teach me.”

He bursts into laughter as he pet her head affectionately before stopping himself,” There’s no need to pay me, doll, really!” Then he gave her a cocky smirk,” A chance to kiss you is payment enough~!”

You waved your hand dismissively,” Yeah, yeah, whatever you want… now teach me.” You seemed fairly eager.

Sampo is utterly amused at this, he shakes his head and gives an amused sigh. “Oh, this should be fun.” He says, his smirk turns into a smile. “Okay, come here. Let me show you.” He says and he pulls you close.

He puts his hand behind your head and he kisses you gently. Not too soft, and not too aggressive. You lean into the kiss almost immediately, shutting your eyes as you basked in the feeling of his lips against yours.

Sampo pulls away after a few moments and he’s blushing hard, his eyes locked on yours. “See? How’s that for a lesson?” He asks, his breath a little heavy but he smirks like he’s already planning something to do to you next. He was completely mesmerised by you.

“Hmm… I think I need another demonstration, I didn’t quite understand…” You mumbled, eyelashed fluttering up at him innocently.

Surprised and very eager at this response, he raised a brow and smirks. “You’re asking for more?” He asks. He shakes his head. “Okay then, have it your way..” he says and he pulls you in again. He kisses you a bit harder this time, his arm coming around you.

“Mphm!…” you were surprised by how much more aggressive this kiss was but you were able to adapt to it instantly, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you as you took complete control over the kiss.

Sampo is caught off guard by this, his eyes widening in surprise but he keeps kissing you, matching your intensity. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other hand running through your hair. He’s enjoying every second of this. “Mmm…” he says, between kisses.

Then, you pulled away, breathing heavily as you stared up at him with a hazy look in your eyes,” How was that?…”

Sampo’s chest is heaving, his heart is racing. He looks down at you, a big grin on his face. “I think that was perfect,” he says and his breath is shaky. “You’re a natural..” he adds with a smile, his eyes glowing,” In fact… I think you could teach me a few things… how about another try?”

“Sound good.”

Prompt : ̗̀➛[Name] catches a cold so Gepard makes sure all her needs are met like an overbearing mother.

A groan left your lips as you stared up at your ceiling hazily, your nose felt entirely blocked and your face was burning hot.

You were definitely sick. From what? You do not know.

But what you are aware of us how much of an overbearing boyfriend Gepard can be when you're sick like this.

You watched in amusement as he ran around your shared bedroom like a headless chicken, fixing the pillows beneath your head for about the hundredth time that day.

"Gepard... The damn pillows are fine, leave 'em alone." You mumbled, your voice was hoarse and scratchy. You just didn't sound well at all.

Gepard pauses in the middle of fluffing up your pillows to peer down at you for a moment," do you have to be so cranky whenever you get sick?" He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, but in spite of that, he was still fussing over you, pulling the throw blanket over you and turning the humidifier to full blast.

"I'm only cranky when you start acting like my mom. I've already got one, I don't need two." You watched as he opened the window to let fresh air into the room, and you would be lying if you said it didn't feel nice to have cool breeze hitting your face.

Your response makes his cheeks puff out in kick annoyance, letting out a dramatic sigh," so your mother is the only one who is allowed to care for you?" He settles himself into the comfy rocking chair next to your bed as he looked over you with a tender smile on his lips," I bet you're not even aware of how cute you look while you're sick." He observes.

You huffed, letting out your millionth sniffle that day," yeah, yeah... Only you would find me cute with snot running from my nose." You teased, still finding his compliments charming however.

He smirks and makes a clicking noise at you in response," I think your snotty nose and feverish flush brings out your eyes." There's that charm of his again before his smirk settled into a warm smile," how do you feel, anyway?" There was worry lacing his words.

He reminded you of a cute dog... His caring loyal attitude never ceases to make you fall in love with him even more.

Smiling up at him, you raise a brow," I feel like shit," you stated bluntly before your eyes softened," but you're making the experience more bearable."

Gepard chuckles and strokes through your hair, ruffled up in a way that was adorable to his eyes." I'm sorry you feel so awful." He murmurs," are you hungry?" He asks.

"no... I'm good for now," you looked down at the swathes of blankets covering you and opened them up, patting the spot next to you encouragingly," I think taking a nap with my wonderful boyfriend would instantly cure my fever." You grinned up at him innocently.

Gepard blushed, your expression and the invitation being far too inviting for him to resist," Of course..." He murmurs as he slowly, but carefully climbs up on the bed before nestling against you until he's under the covers.

His arms are wrapped around your body and he's pressed all the way up against you, like your very own heated pillow," is that all better for now?"

Instantly leaning into him warm and comforting touch, you nodded with a peaceful smile on your lips as you buried your face into his chest,” for sure…” you hummed out, already feeling yourself getting sleepy. Your arms wrap around his waist comfortably as you sigh in his smell of cinnamon,” Thank you… for taking care of me.”

Gepard holds back a groan of pleasure as you tuck yourself so close against him, your warm body just that much more appealing with your feverish flush. The moment your head rests against his chest, his arms instantly tighten around you, and he's holding himself perfectly still. He's not letting you go.

He kisses behind your ear, the tender gesture causing him to blush. "It's nothing," He hums, nuzzling into your neck. "It's my duty."

“I suppose it is,” you giggled out, leaning into the tender kisses he was giving you,” You’re like a knight in shining armour…” you hummed sleepily.

His fingers are gently stroking through your hair, the caress almost enough to lull you to sleep. The tender kisses he's pressing into your neck help, but not nearly as much as the loving expression on his face, one that's a picture of pure content. He nuzzles into you, as if to mark you as his, but mostly because he doesn't want anything separating the two of you.

"And you are my damsel," He whispers.

“Your princess,”you reiterated, blinking up at him tiredly.

"My princess." He echoes.

Gepard's arms are as warm and as comforting as they are tight around you. Your head is pressed right against his chest, his voice just an ear-hugging whisper in your ear.

"My precious and beloved princess." He purrs gently.

You slowly drifted off to sleep at his words, his warm and soft voice lulling you to sleep like the lullaby of a siren.

or maybe it was the fever that made you so sleepy.

Gepard holds you against him, nuzzling into your shoulder as he's content to watch over your peaceful sleep.

His fingers trace circles into your hair, and the warmth of his body, especially as the blankets he's pulling up to you trap the heat, are just perfect for helping you recover comfortably.

All this fuss over a simple cold. He'll make sure you're treated like royalty.

Prompt : ̗̀➛Dan Heng doesn't like talking on the phone, but [Name] always calls him instead of texting. [Name] admits that it's because she wants to hear Dan Heng's voice.

Den Heng let out a sigh the second his phone started ringing, he almost immediately knew who it was.

Nobody else called him. Not even March!

Why did you have to be different?

Dan Heng answered his phone with a sigh,"Yes, [name]? What is it?"

There was silence before your light voice graced his ears," Hey there~! Long time no talk, buddy." God, he could hear the shit eating grin in your voice.

That stupid grin.

That stupidly charming grin.

"... I hate you, you know that?" Dan Heng murmured and shook his head with frustration as he rubbed his eyes,"What is it you need now? Money? Food? What have you done this time? Are you in trouble again?" He hissed quietly.

"You don't hate me! Den Heng, where are your manners?" You gasped out, acting as though you were offended by his words when you were only growing more amused.

This is usually how your interactions went. You being irritating and him being irritable. Himeko and Welt can't count how many times you both have had your little spouts.

You were like a married couple, honestly. Disgustingly cute.

"And I don't need any of those things! I'm on the straight and narrow," But then you paused then there was a chuckle," For now."

A small smile spread on Dan Heng's face as he heard your laughter. Thank god he wasn't talking to you in person he'd look like an idiot.

"... you're certainly not on the straight and narrow if you're telling me 'for now'..." He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, "So what is it you need, then, if it's not money, food, or my help when you've definitely gotten yourself into trouble again?" He asked.

"Welllll..." you dragged your words out, almost as though you were delaying something. But then there was a click of your tongue and-," I just like hearing your voice. Is that so bad?"

You said this so casually. Like it wasn't meant to make Dan Heng have a heart attack.

Dan Heng hesitated and coughed awkwardly as he was taken aback by the sudden shift in what he thought to be a light exchange between him and you. He put his phone close to his ear, his eyes wide with surprise.

“... I-I don’t know what to say.” He said honestly but then he deadpanned,“I was about to tell you that you’re a brat to tease, but I had no idea this was going in this direction.”

"I'm not a brat, am I?" You chuckled out, there was a somberness to your tone," I dunno, you're just easy to talk to."

He heard your clothing shuffle, you must have shrugged.

"But I can tell I'm annoying you, so if you want I can just start messaging from now o-"

Dan Heng was quick to interrupt.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dan Heng said quickly, waving his hand in front of him as if he could see you through the phone.

“You call me whenever you want to talk. It’s just— your timing—” He ran his hand through his hair again,“I thought this was going to be another prank call.”

He heard silence and then your breathy chuckle," You're so cute when you're flustered, Dan Heng." You hummed out teasingly.

Dan Heng’s face turned a bright shade of red and his cheeks warmed in a way only you had ever managed to achieve for him.

He couldn’t find the words to respond and sat there for a moment until he let out a quiet sigh.

“I wish you weren’t so… so… so…” He said, looking around his room as if to search for a synonym. He sighed again and gave up.

“I take it back... you're annoying.”

"Cute."

He heard the creaking of a chair," I'd like to take you out to dinner." You admitted rather bluntly, though there was a gentle tone to your voice.

"If you'd let me," you then added on as an after-thought.

Dan Heng’s face turned a deeper shade of red and his jaw dropped from sheer surprise.

“…W-what?” He asked you, and for someone who wasn’t known for stuttering, he was doing a whole lot of it.

Once or twice you'd joked to him about it, but in all honesty, there were so many times he wanted to ask you out but never did.

“I-… I would love to go to dinner with you." I said. But then realisation struck him and he cleared his throat," But..." He trailed off.

"Buuuut?...." You repeated, sounding a little nervous.

He frowned at himself for making you anxious,“There’s always ‘buts’ with me, it’s never just a clean cut ‘yes’.”

He looked up at the ceiling and let his head drop back down, growing more emotionally exhausted by the second, “In my defense, ‘you’ and ‘me dating’ are things that have never went together in the same sentence in my head.”

"Dan Heng! So mean." You whined out but you began laughing afterwards," You sure about that, though?" There was a teasing lilt to your voice," I see you and I together a lot.

“Well—” Dan Heng paused briefly and cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed cutely. Was he really about to confess this to you? Over the phone at that as well.

“…I have actually imagined a few times…”

He looked up at the ceiling again, his expression turning slightly red and he shut his eyes tightly, cringing at his own words.

“…it’s nothing I can say I ever thought would happen for real. But here we are…”

"Ah, I see..." you sounded almost touched,"... Well, how do you feel?" You asked, genuinely wanting him to express himself.

“How do I feel—?” The question caught Dan Heng off guard. As if he had a lot of thoughts going through his head at once.

“I-I feel—”

He was silent, trying to find the words. He couldn’t find the right words.

“I’ll be honest,” He said quietly, staring at nothing as he held his phone to his ear, “I feel a little scared.”

"Yeah?" She breathed out.

"Yeah," He repeated in the same tone,"...If you and I actually… you know… went on a date..." Dan Heng cleared his throat again, and again, trying to find the words," And you started to know more about me… who I truly am... will you still look at me the way you do now?"

He paused.

"Will you still like me? Or will you end up being disappointed?" He finally spoke in a whisper.

"I... I don't think I could ever be disappointed," you admitted genuinely, a gentle smile to your voice," I know you're closed off for your own reasons... but that makes me more drawn to you."

You sounded so enamoured. Affectionate. He's never heard you speak like this before.

"I want to shoulder your burdens alongside you," you stated simply," No matter what those burdens are. I need to make the weight holding you down lighter... that's my genuine feelings."

“…” In all his years of knowing you, he never thought he’d hear those words in your lifetimes.

The silence grew before Dan Heng spoke again, his voice still a soft whisper but now one of resolve and strength.

“...Okay then.” A small smile twitched onto his lips," Message me the details when you have it figured out."

"Nah, I'll just call you." You confirmed with a clear sound of giddiness within your voice.

Den Heng finally let a soft breathy laugh fall from his lips, his resolve evidently broken,"... I know you will."

[alavestineneas]

and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room?

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, mentions of sa (!), blood and other parts of body, very non-healthy relationships chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 !this work is part 2 to the i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest! word count: 7,3k

author's notes: hi beautiful people! today, I have finally finished this chapter and am thrilled to say that this fic requires part 3! be aware that this piece of literature is explicit and touches on some very heavy themes, including sa and child abuse. Please be mindful of it! As always, your opinions, suggestions, and critiques are welcome in the comments. Love you, and have a tasty read!

There are a lot of books stored in her memory, locked in the neurocytes safely. They are tucked into the cortex with love and tenderness that YN otherwise taught herself to suppress as a sign of her weaker self. But papers were non-living, so she felt like it was less dangerous for her to show warmth towards them; after all, if the objects can not acknowledge your love, does it really count as real? She read everything, mostly in an attempt to prepare herself for something she did not know the face of; she read to build the shield around herself, in desperate hope to be able to help at least her future self. YN read even now, although her foolish childhood desires were long gone, just to get a glimpse of the girl she was before the monsters escaped the pages.

The book she re-read the most was nothing special, nothing suiting the image she moulded herself into—a giant, relatively old encyclopaedia of animals inhabiting the furthest corners of Known Imperium. The letters inside, although faded a little, were left almost untouched by eyes—maybe it was what drew her in in the first place—to cherish something seen as unneeded. YN learned the small paragraphs almost by heart; she liked the idea of someone taking enough time to observe something as small as a roden to know its habits. She liked the idea of it happening to her one day. As it always is, it did not.

She chose her favourite animal without that much thought. Although even the notion of having something beloved was foolish, YN was made to choose; she and her sisters played the game of forest most often. The game was simple: pretend to be a creature you are not, forgetting the countless rules they had to follow. Pretending they have claws and teeth; pretending they can protect themselves not through intrigues and hidden motives but through open, bold force. Irulan was always a Katanga Lioness; she liked it because of the proximity to their house's symbol. YN did not; the grey pages of her beloved book described them as "observed to also scavenge on carrion of animals that were killed by other predators or died from natural causes''. What king of the animals steals the work of others simply to feed themselves? She did not tell Irulan that, of course—why would she?

YN chose a mountain lion for herself. Sure, she may have made a mistake thinking it was just another type of lion, but the game went too far to change anything, so she stuck with that. She even grew to love it—the drawing of the mountain lion on her character sheet, the way it prowled through the forest in her mind's eye. It had many names and many homes. Adaptive. Captivating.

She does not know why it came into her mind suddenly—maybe it was the dim light of the closed arena. The air circulated here freely, cooling through the complex systems of vents, even though it seemed to be deprived of any life—just a mechanical circle of the same molecules moving around her seated figure and returning to the hidden openings again and again. YN looked straight ahead; the two men were still sparring.

From her bench, they looked like one—two bodies moved so swiftly that one was unable to differentiate where the lines of their limbs ended. YN squinted her eyes; she was alone in the seating area, and still, she dared not move closer. The taller, thinner figure possessed skin so white it looked almost translucent underneath the cold light—YN wondered if she would be able to see the structures in his body through his clothed stomach. He moved well, almost too well for her not to press her lower row of teeth to the top one, hiding the tongue in a cave of pearl bones—she had hoped he was worse with his bare hands. YN had counted four hundred and five seconds before he made a mistake in his steps; it was a lot more than her own results, but for a man, he was good.

Feyd-Rautha had style; she had to give him that. He fought like a serpent would: calculated, precise. His fists knew the most effective targets, and his legs knew how to escape the blows of his opponent. If YN was to guess, he relied on muscle memory less than a usual fighter would, preferring to dwell in the moment instead. It made for a good show, sure, but it was not practical. She smiled to herself; of course, the na-Baron could not know what the real battle was like. How unfortunate for him—how delightful for her. YN still can't believe he let her watch his training every morning—was he really that stupid not to realise her motive? Was he too confident to consider having weaknesses?

Regardless, she saw what she needed to do - for three hours every day, she set unmovingly on the third bench in a small fighting ground, imprinting his every move in her mind. There are so many moves you can use and so many tricks you can do before she learns them all. YN did not care for the cold gaze thrown in her direction when Feyd-Rautha collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to rest before lurching onto his opponent again. She can wait.

Mountain lions are stealthy predators.

-

The days she spent here changed into months, their slow steps morphing into each other until time became a blur, a concept she did not grasp. Feyd-Rautha was a hard one to warm, but before she would mould him into something she wanted, YN needed to heat his DNA to a certain magnitude; otherwise, he would simply break. She would've gladly accepted this turn of fate too, but right now, keeping na-Baron alive is far more convenient for the Bene Gessarit. For her.

A concubine. A slap in the face: it seemed like life was determined to dissolve the small bits of her dignity in its endless pool of secrets. She was not a wife to Harkonnen na-Baron; no, she was to be his whore. If she was not too tired, she would've felt a pang of fear on her rising with oxygen lungs; a concubine's position is even lower here compared to one of a lawful wife's. YN remembers the words of her teacher as she prepared her for the union: Harkonnen concubines are killed after their first night in a position; if one is lucky enough to escape the fate by being with a child, she bears him until it's time for the baby to be born. One of the greatest honours for a Harkonnen is to take the life of his mother as soon as he enters the world.

She was to join na-Baron for breakfast today—a proposal YN waited long to receive, but part of her wishes she never did. It was worded like an invitation; YN knows it was not. Harkonnens rarely spoke when they did not give orders—a creature of habit, she supposed. So, she did what she had to: follow the slave to the chambers designated for the meal. The hem of her dress shone with a colour so foreign to the fort around her; YN needed to make herself stand out. Men are much like children, she learned—the more colourful the toy, the more likely they will want to play with it.

The walls were heavy here. They didn't bend in the shapes she was used to, preferring to stand tall. They didn't have to hide their strength underneath a complicated facade—quite the opposite. They paraded it, wearing it like the honour it is. Staying unremorsefully unbending. Maybe it's the air or a different measure of gravity; maybe it's her habit of soaking up the surroundings and letting them poison her insides, growing rotten in between the folds of her stomach tissue, but her legs are metal, stone-cold, pulling YN deeper and deeper into the floor. She tries so hard to ignore the three creatures in the corner.

They are hairless, much like the man in front of her, and dressed in matching black. YN would've mistaken them for Harkonnen royalty if it were not for the iron collars on their necks and the glowing black eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She would've been happy to have some company and not be forced into solitude with na-Baron if it were not for a still convulsing body on the floor. A body she did not recognise, but it could've easily been her own.

The creatures seemed to enjoy the involuntary moves of the soon-to-be corpse; they closed their eyes in delight and bared the sharp, black-coloured teeth in sheer pleasure as they lurched into the white flesh. They ripped it apart with only their hands, not bothering to use the prepared knives for more than a big incision from head to stomach. The sounds of chewing and gnawing filled the room, echoing off the walls and sending electric impulses down her body. YN was used to the metallic smell and the bright colour of arterial blood, but this was not a simple death. It was a show, and she was the long-awaited watcher.

Feyd-Rautha seemed unbothered by the sight near him. His hands, covered in thick streaks of blood, were deep to his elbows in the body. He dissected the corpse with precision, his eyes focused and his grip steady. He looked calm, even peaceful. Na-Baron was in good humour today. ''I must say, your arrival has graced us with much more than just the dowery; nothing could've made this union more auspicious—such a rare bird you are, daughter of our generous Emperor. A princess, yet treated no better than a common slave.''

Here it was: the thing she was thinking about all the way to this strange, garbage planet in the dress that pokes bleeding holes in her abdomen with each glass she downs. From his lips, it sounds even more bitter; even savages found the way the Emperor sold one of his daughters so easily strange. "Both of our houses have traditions far beyond our understanding," YN shrugs, scaring her thoughts away like annoying flies. Here, in a room so far from the comfort of her home, they moved too fast, bringing nausea to her throat.

She is here to secure the bloodline of House Harkonnen, to ensure the balance needed in the Imperium. YN does not notice how suddenly her gaze darkens or how tightly the hands that rested on the chair are now holding the pleated velvet of her ruby-red gown. Oh, the baby. The tiny creature inside her womb, the future head for the Baron's crown to be placed upon. The yet unconcieved child she could not feel love for. She was given no other choice but to risk its life before even giving it a chance to obtain its gift.

''Then you will find my present to be quite fitting.''

YN watches in silence as na-Baron reaches inside the rib cage of the corpse. He reaps out an organ with one swift motion, almost like plucking a harmful sprout from the garden. The organ is broun and rosewood, a weird mixture of shades that make it harder for her to focus on anything but the thing in his large hand. The gift he meant to give was a human heart.

She feels his walk long before she sees a figure departing from its place at the table; she guesses the end point of his manoeuvres too easily. It's almost funny—a cruel, senseless joke; how obvious the slight tremor in her hands is; how heavy her eyes become at the sight of Harkonnen black. The body positions itself near; if she squints, she can hear the hot breathing somewhere between her shoulder blades. His hand snakes around her neck quickly, positioning the organ right in front of her mouth. YN can detect the smell hitting her nostrils before she closes the receptors in them. She wants to scream, but the notes die in her throat. Who would she scream for? She hears the creatures hiss and whisper—the heart is a good part, from what she can make out. It did not need to be wasted on people like her.

''Will you not accept it?'' Feyd-Rautha's words are mocking, but his dark blue eyes stay virgin to the laughter. They drill small spots on her neck from behind with such force that YN can almost feel the burnt smell of her sweat-covered skin.

She takes a breath. Her own heart shrinks, its vessels beating with intensity twice as much as needed. Still alive, she notes absently. Still breathing. The feeling is natural and easy; the forced calmness in her body tingles the muscles, braiding her nerves into a pattern similar to the netting. Then, she opens her mouth.

"If I shall lick the blood of your hands, Feyd-Rautha, dare to make it your own."

That's it.

Maybe the Emperor was right to spare her none of the Sardaukars and a quarter of her dresses. She did not need more; she was not expected to survive long enough to use half of her clothes. YN chucked under her breath. Dead over diet preferences—how profound.

After a moment, the pale face behind her also twists, allowing the blackened teeth to escape the grip of thin lips. Like this, na-Baron looks less human and more like the evil he was said to be. He throws the heart to the creatures—they catch it greedily—and places a bloodied hand on her shoulder, the droplets of crimson going unnoticed on the brightly coloured cloth. ''Very well, then. Let us eat.''

YN nods. She looks around almost instinctively; nothing could make her eat a thing after the sight she just witnessed, but she refuses the na-Baron once; she is not about to do it again. The food is a lot, but her plate is almost empty: only a small amount of salad is here, sadly staring into the hunger in her eyes and a now featherless creature in an unnatural pose, suggesting its non-poetical death. The bird is small, almost delicate; its wings are pitifully glued to the body. YN does not want to let her mind draw the comparison, and does not allow her brain to admit a direct analogy; she dissects the bird with a dull knife and puts a piece in her dry mouth. The creature tastes good—almost too good to be expected in this brightly lit hall.

Most often deer is the mountain lion’s staple diet. However, they can survive preying on small animals as well.

-

The night covers Giedi Prime rather quickly; it never lingers, politely waiting for its masters to finish their daily affairs; it hits like a coward, from behind, trapping those not careful enough to hide before its arrival. The harsh, toxic waves of lazy winds hit the walls of the halls coldly lighted with a few sphears; they look like deep forest clearings, forming a system of endless options, ultimately leading to one, inevitable, end. His work chambers aren't big; he does not visit them often for them to be. The solitary metal desk before him is filled with letters, drafts of laws, and official documents, all waiting for his approval. It exhausts Feyd-Rautha to no end, the sheer stupidity of most of the advisers here; almost half of the documents were riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The forever present in his head dull migraine grows stronger when he opens the shortest letter; he almost busts his skull open when the pain heavies.

He ponders too much—the type of thoughts you can feel running on your tongue but never escaping. He is not used to being in the mist; all of his life is so painfully contrasted that no doubt of its nature can survive the sharp edge of his mind. There are things he can escape—forget, even—but some linger in his ribcage too long for them to vanish. Soon, they grow into his lungs with small, unbreakable threads, becoming him. He used to try to get them away from his heart, as if it held some value. Now, he is smarter, older, and more indifferent, he lets them pierce yet another piece of human flesh with no sorrow.

Of course, he remembered her face. The same face that haunted his sleep ever since she dared to appear before his eyes. Feyd-Rautha, naturally, found her little frolic that day. He spent an entire evening studying her work, analysing every move she could've made with her blade to achieve such outcomes. Sure, some things he would've done differently, but the sheer brutality of an animal he would not have guessed the girl possessed charmed him. Feyd-Rautha was a proud man, but he, too, held a love for beautiful things. For that, he hadn't told the Baron of the sight he discovered in the reading room. For that, he is now willing to pretend to believe her eyes when the fear fleshes in them.

Feyd-Rautha curses; she sickens. Like a bone stuck somewhere down his throat, not letting him live without a pang of mocking. She lurks, and whispers—Feyd-Rautha wants to smash her pretty head against the wall just to reveal the secrets she hides from him so he can finally understand the hold she retains. He is no stranger to the desire to own, or devour, but the fear in the back wall of his stomach is an alien in his body. He tries to hide it—to paint over it with anger or violence—but it remains a constant presence, gnawing at him from within. It's no use; the woman is a shark, designed to sense the fright. Maybe that's what brought him in in the first place—the steel eyes so similar to his own in a narrow hall all those years before. Maybe he was so used to the danger that he craved it subconsciously, looking for it to make him feel like himself again. A reoccurring childhood nightmare he can't escape; he doesn't want to escape.

Feyd-Rautha finds the chair to put his weight on and waits until the tingling, spinning sensation spreads from his temples down his neck, finding its way into his bloodstream and passing his organs one by one, until none are left uncorrupted. Of course, he expects it. The woman slipped into his brain and now chews her way into it like a parasite downs the rotten body. He knows he should be terrified, but instead, he feels a strange sense of relief. Feyd-Rautha can hear the whispers of his own mind fighting to remain the only owners of the secrets and desires buried within. He feels his eyelids heavy; a second later, the whites of his eyes are staring at the ceiling, the blue eye lenses dissolving in light.

Water. The first thing he feels is ice-cold water dripping onto his face, filling his lungs, and sending a shock through his arms. This body does not feel like his; it's too small, too narrow. His eyes are trying to adjust as fast as they can, jumping from one blurred spot to another until finally catching a glimpse of the surroundings. His brain does not have time to process the picture; his nose is filled with fluid again, and his open mouth is gasping for air but only taking in more liquid. He tries waving his hands around, but the stronger grip is firm on his nape, pulling him further down into the depths. The hand yanked him out just as he was about to fall into darkness again, the sound of water changing to loud screeching.

''How dare you hit me, devil child? Let the water wash away your dirt. Repent; beg for forgiveness for all of your rotten nature.''

The voice is unknown to him; it is harsh and filled with fury. The woman's face is twisted in anger; splashes of water on it match his. He can't tell if they are from his antics or tears. The woman's grip tightens, her nails digging into his skin. The black clothes on her figure make her status known - a Bene Gessarit witch. Feyd-Rautha tries to lurch forward and hit her back, but her strength is overwhelming. He feels panic coursing through his veins instead of oxygen—a sensation he did not think he could experience anymore. He wants to bark a response to show her that he is not afraid, but his voice catches in his throat.

Feyd-Rautha has no time to wonder what the woman wants; she brings his face to the bathtub again, and he opens his mouth involuntarily, frantically begging not to do it anymore. He says everything she wants to hear; he cries out and promises to wash his sins away. The voice does not sound like his at all. He is desperate to end this nightmare now, but some force holds him here. The woman is not satisfied; her ears are deaf to his pleas.

His face ends up on the water surface a moment later, his nose hitting the wall of the bathtub as the woman holds him down. He feels his body go limp with utter horror; this time, the shouting woman won't stop. Her voice grows quieter, replaced by the sound of small waves hitting the brim and spilling; from right to left, the water turns red, and his tongue tastes the iron he knows from sliding blades into his mouth.

''Echidna, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go; she is going to choke!''

''Get that spawn to me, for I will not let her ruin my life anymore! I must finish what I have started!''

Feyd-Rautha's head is filled with oxygen once again; his lungs take a desperate breath in, sending too much air to his blood system. He falls on his back, the world spinning. He does not care for the weeping woman in black or the chaos unfolding around him. His only thought is that everything is finally done and that the white floors are a magnificent place for drops of liquid to fall from his normally bald head's waterfall of hair.

He wakes up suddenly, the sensation long gone. His steps are heavy again; the body he inhibits no longer feels like a cage. The voices have left him for now, and the only thing on his forehead left is small drops of sweat and a pathetic, frightened, beating heart. The cold breeze from the darkened sands surrounding the city wishes to prove otherwise—it heavies and plants its spikes into his reddened cheeks. The horizon gleams at him, almost taunting; not a single star is to be seen under the imposing clouds. He will kill her; maybe he will even enjoy it. Feyd-Rautha can handle a lot, but not the shame of being seen. Not the guilt of being caught wanting.

There are only three ways to hunt a mountain lion: tracking, waiting in ambush, and with dogs.

-

The gliding motions of heavy fabrics across the wooden floors created a strange pattern of a song now centuries old. Here, in a room so long that the wind travelled through the hollows, her careful steps seemed to almost fall silent. Nothing was there for the preying eyes to see. YN closes her eyes; with that, even for a moment, the world stays still. She knows where the hollow staircase will lead her; she feels it in her stomach with every step she takes. YN knows nothing about the future, but the past lives deep in her memories, haunting her every move. She knows she shouldn't have done it. Travelling through one's mind is a sin she can't escape; she will pay the price for it in her blood, but the Bene Gesarit did not send her here to survive, so it's of no use to be afraid now. It makes no difference for the dead if you weep at their grave or not.

The burning sphere of light in the hall stops spinning; the doors open without any noise, although if the pounding eardrums had not stunned her hearing, she could've noticed the faint thuds. YN waits; there are no flashes of her happiest memories or the faces of her loved ones in her drained mind. No, in what seems to be her last moments, she thinks of what she could've been if the world had not given her a sword to turn into.

Feyd-Rautha appears in the hall; his steps aren't rushed, and his expression is stone-cold. She eyes him shamelessly: nothing. She sees nothing; she senses it deep in her crying bones. He drags her by the hair like a mother would with her misbehaving child; roughly, he pulls her towards the exit, his grip tightening with each step until the door behind them closes and her knees meet the cold ground with a nasty thud. The bruises will stain them soon, not that it matters now.

''You should've known better than to cross me,'' he hisses, his voice gruff. It's cold, chilling—the way his lips part to reveal a sinister smile. ''Now, you can think yourself vanished, little witch.''

YN does not answer—what fool would beg the deaf? The blade against her chin is sharp; she knows how attentive he is when it comes to inflicting pain. It pokes right into the Omehyoid muscle, a dull pain shooting through her body. If she has got to die, it may as well be from his skilled arms. How beautiful he is in the twisted pleasure he finds in her suffering. Unearthly, almost too perfect to be made of simple flesh and bone. Something was unnerving, unforgettable in the net of veins under his pearly skin; it was as if he were a work of art, meticulously crafted to bring physical pain and optical pleasure in equal measure. A silver glint under the defined cheekbones, a redness of lips filled with blood vessels. For a second, YN wonders what it would be like to bite into it, like an apple that lay too long under the golden sun; would the blood slip as generously as the sweet nectar? Handsome as poison, as a black sun on his forsaken planet, as death.

''Go on. Kill me, then; let me escape you once and for all.''

Under the deep sea of his eyes, something moved; his eyes dipped into her, part by part. Like the slow, deliberate dance of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze lingered on her, calculating and intense. YN lowered her head to push the knife a little deeper into the flesh. A strange thought lingered in her brain; she found herself on her knees in front of him, almost willingly. She has worshipped God all her life; who, if not her, can recognise his creation? The Devil. Lucifer. Satan. The man with horns so big they once touched the skies; a corrupt angel, fallen from grace so long ago he couldn't remember way back if he tried. They have warned her about him, but is it her fault that God has disowned her earlier than she could? Did it really matter to her, before whom to kneel, as long as she felt a sense of power and control in her submission?

All that mattered now was that he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her.

She sees the recognition flicker on his face. Caught. The blade slides quickly across her exposed neck, the blood sprouting out in a weak, painfully quick stream. Feyd-Rautha kissed her, biting her bottom lip till the stream of boldly coloured blood trickled down his chin. He did so like an animal would, baring his teeth and dragging them across the pulsating vein on her neck. YN's laughing cry echoes in the empty room; she is forced to admit that he felt good.

Never approach a mountain lion; most mountain lions prefer to avoid confrontations, so never approach them and make them feel cornered.

-

The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. The beautiful substance of her hair caught the light from the sun like a mirage in the desert, reflecting in his eyes with painful hits. The jewels, too, have found their way onto her clothes, but they were hidden beneath the layers of fabric. They shined brightly, impertinently, framing her figure in a glow that seemed to come from within.

To his surprise, the skills woman possessed spread out to politics as well, with her witch training proving useful in court. Feyd-Rautha did not miss how his advisors grew more uneasy when she entered the room, her careful eyes scanning their faces for even a hint of betrayal or deceit. Like a proud discoverer, he ached to share his new-found wonder with the blind audience, but something in him protested in a mare thought of showing the precious jewel of his eye to the cluster of unworthy. So, Feyd-Rautha did the only thing he knew how— all of his secret observations were done from afar, masterfully hidden behind the facade of casual indifference.

As he drags yet another blade across the surface of the whetstone, he thinks about her delicate hands on his neck, her ringed fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. It doesn't matter; YN is nothing of the sort. A concubine, a possession, a tool for pleasure and procreation—the Harkonnen way was simple.

''Are you done eye-fucking me now, or do you need more time with your blade?'' she sneers, her voice mocking. Only she could get away with such bold defiance in his presence, but she does not seem to care for the unusualness of it.

YN motions for him to come closer, her eyes studying the way his legs move. Feyd-Rautha has no control over them; the steps make themselves. She plays the game very well; the chase fuels something primal within him. Thirst. Hunger. It was the Harkonnen training talking to him—the wild, ancient sensation taking over his insides and imprisoning his mind in a cage of helpless desire. It spread its tentacles down to his fingertips, nesting in his abdomen. He positions himself in front of her, his body betraying him as he leans in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Feyd-Rautha's hands repeat the ritual almost instinctively, rolling the hem of her deep purple dress up to her waist.

''Stop for a second,'' she whispers against his ear, her breath warm and inviting. ''Can I give you a piece of advice?''

Feyd-Rautha can feel the anger creeping into his body; he does not like to be refused. ''No,'' he grumbles, turning her around forcefully. "I don't need your advice," he snaps, his grip tightening on her arm.

YN does not seem to care for it. ''Don't do it. It will only lead to trouble.''

''What?'' He stops, his eyes narrowing as he absorbs the woman's words. The doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind suddenly grew louder, echoing through his mind. He releases her arm, his expression stoic. ''You are insane, woman. What are you talking about?''

''You know what I mean.''

The unease boils in his stomach. How could she know? He was careful not to slip anything; she wasn't able to cast her spells anymore either. But her knowing gaze tells him otherwise. ''You can not know the future,'' he pronounces.

''I don't need to know the future to see the truth, Feyd-Rautha. Your judgement is clouded by rage, and your mind is not as sharp as it usually is. You are not as invincible as you think you are.''

She is bluffing, he thinks. He hopes she is. Feyd-Rautha almost wished there was no cloth covering her face, nothing to hide her expressions as she lay beneath him. He catches her flamed eyes and the way they circle his face in one swift motion before settling on the ceiling above. It unnerves him, but he refuses to show it. She is no master here; she is simply a servant. That is not what power looks like, if he ever recognised one, and Feyd-Rautha knew power.

''Get out, now.''

Nothing was portrayed on her face as she curtseyed; nothing was there when she turned and walked to her rooms, leaving nothing but the ghost of the human body's warmth.

Mountain lions are more at home in brushy areas than in open prairies.

-

And then, he disappeared. Like the sound of the morning birds falling silent in the cacophony of voices of the city on her home planet, there was no trace of na-Baron in the entire Harkonnen fortress. YN thought she was slowly but surely going mad; no one but her noticed the usual place by the window empty, and no one but her seemed to care enough to know where he went. She caught strange looks from a few, and frankly, she thought they were right. She looked like a mad woman, her hair quickly plated and her dress hurriedly laced, her eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Feyd-Rautha's massive figure. Noon was dragged into the evening, and then night, for three, long days until she heard the long-awaited news: na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had tried to usurp his uncle and had failed.

She has told him so. A fucking brainless ram, with stubbornness bigger than his cock—why did he think he could outsmart the Baron? He will pay for his dumbness with his blood, perhaps even his limb—the thought brought nausea to YN's throat. She was lucky the Baron did not consider her important enough to be knowledgeable of such schemes; she lowered her head in the desert, hiding from the sand storms of Harkonnen politics; she waited for two long weeks until the announcement was made; Feyd-Rautha was forgiven. The celebration in honour of this news is to be today; she is to attend it. Not like his concubine, YN supposed, but more like the princess she still was.

Now, she took her time. YN chose a gown she wanted long enough to make even a tireless slave yawn, savouring each moment before their meeting. She was a victor now, in their small game of cat and mouse. He was a cat, but the mouse could still outwit him with grace and style. YN smiled at the wondering attendants; she looked good, and she was going to meet him.

The walk from her chambers to the Grand Hall wasn't too long; she would've walked a thousand more stairs if it was needed. The doors opened without a sound, revealing nothing but a mere celebration of yet another year under the reign of Harkonnens. The lines of slaves changed one another, the uneven circles of people dancing appearing and fleeing to the cheerful tone of strings. She was set somewhere between two Harkonnen lords she had no chance of knowing; she felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as she tried to maintain a polite smile. Their gazes didn't look right; something sinister lurked inside them—hiding a secret she had no chance of knowing.

One of them turned to her, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "How are you finding the evening, lady YN? Or, what should I call you?,'' he mastered a fake confusion. ''Perhaps, darling? Concubine has a cheap wing to it; quite unworthy of a face so lovely as yours, don't you think?"

Dirt. The thing that crawled under her skin at his words was like dirt, making her feel unclean and exposed. She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his comments, the crown of her hair moving with muscles underneath her skin. "I am a princess, my Lord. Address me as such."

It would be enough every other noon, but today. The man's face twists, as if he just remembered something; he turns, the wine in his goblet splashing on the tablecloth. ''I think na-Baron wouldn't be too angry if I stole a princess for the night," he sneered, his eyes darkening with malice.

''Does it matter to you either way?''

YN watches as the smirk, so similar to Feyd-Rautha's, appears on the men's lips, although it doesn't feel the same. She fights back disgust as the man nods, biting into a hefty chunk of prey. His eyes, once focused on her, drifted away. YN chose to follow them; the string of fat streaming down the man's mouth onto the silver tablecloth made her nauseous. She looked from one unfamiliar face to another, until the cold feeling in her abdomen crept its way onto her chest.

There he was. His figure is unusually crouching as he sits on the podium reserved for members of the dynasty. The dark blue eyes are red now; the thin blood vessels in them are torn and emptied. His body seemed to suck the light out of the hall inside, casting a shadow over the room. There are no scars on his smooth face, but the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes spoke of a suffering that went beyond physical wounds. YN almost wished she saw him dead; whatever this was, it was surely much worse. He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers; something flickered in them before turning back to their empty state. Feyd-Rautha parts his dry lips to say something to her—she can't understand a word he draws with his breath.

From the place nearby, the Baron's voice booms, his low, almost whisper-like vowels mending into one. His face, covered with layers of skin and dead cells, twists into what was meant to be a welcoming smile—the corners of his paper-thin lips dance, lowering themselves only to jump higher, and his eyes travel from one corner to another, unable to be still even for a moment. He speaks of things YN knows nothing about court intrigue, power struggles, and alliances that shape the fate of their world, heavy with hidden meanings and unspoken threats. She does not listen until he gestures towards her, a scent of spice and decomposing flesh lingering.

''Sergeant Voss has served me well, and his loyalty at the right time is not to be forgotten. Here, I bestow upon him the highest honour of all; what was once mine, is now his. Do not let go of her if she screams, Sergeant; the girl is a fine one.''

No. YN almost does not recognise the hand as her own as the man drags her to the bed that appeared out of nowhere, freezing with horror as the people around her continue to watch in silence, their eyes devoid of any emotion or empathy. The tradition, she notes, is the one she learned so much about bedding in front of the entire court as a symbol of unity. She choked on her own tears as the man smiled at her pleas for help; they seemed to make him even more pleased.

YN looks, frantically, to the place she saw Feyd-Rautha sitting just a moment before. He would help; surely, he would not let them do it to her—his servant, his concubine, his. But the seat is empty. The scream echoing through the hall does not register as hers right away; he has sold her. For his own freedom, for a chance to be free from the consequences of his own stupid actions. Surely, the Harkonnens could not get rid of her openly—it would mean war—but she was not immune to the man who now owned her. His hands travelled her body with such audacity that YN wanted to cut them off—to cut her chest just so she could not feel the fingers digging into her skin. A sole reminder she was a woman first and a human second.

Mountain lions are solitary hunters.

The man undressed himself quickly; all of the soldiers were trained to do so. She should run; she should fight back, but the pair of unmoving hands pinning her wrists down was a stark reminder of her helplessness. The man lowers himself closer, his hot breath against her neck making her shudder in fear. She can feel him against her skirts; she can feel the weight of his body pressing down on her. The adrenaline is pumping through her veins; she will survive. Whatever it fucking takes, even if her body is bruised and broken, she will survive.

They prefer to ambush their prey from behind by swiftly and cleanly breaking the neck.

She bites—her teeth launch towards his cheek, feeling the warm flesh give way beneath her. She sinks them deeper, making holes big enough to draw blood. It's hot, and sickening on her tongue, but she does not have time for these thoughts; her next blow is in his stomach, with his knee jammed into his gut. She can feel his body convulse in pain, giving her a chance to throw him on the bed, his broad back facing her.

If they haven’t broken the neck, they will suffocate the animal.

There is nothing around that could serve as a knife; her captors made sure of that, and the sheets are too thin to wrap around his neck. She looks around the room, desperate for something to use, but the space around her is empty. YN curses as the man regains his composure and begins to struggle against her hold. Her elbow meets his nose with a sickening crunch, causing blood to spurt out. She takes a breath in; her hand wraps around his neck, forming a tight hold as she goes into the headlock. She chokes him, so desperately trying to live. And the man trashes against her grip, his white face turning a deep shade of purple before finally going limp in her arms.

Shame.

A thing that followed her after every life she took is now absent. Maybe the Giedi Prime's cruelty did have its effect on her; YN feels nothing but a sense of emptiness as she stands over the lifeless body.

''Do you have any more men to gift me to, Baron Vladimir? The night is still young.''

Her voice has changed. It holds a certain hiss now, a rasp that wasn't present before; it has matured and bloomed into half an octave deeper tone. It bites through the noise easily, cutting sharply.

The Baron laughs. His eyes gleam with amusement as he gestures towards the door. "Plenty more where that came from, my dear, but it's enough for today. Here,'' he throws something in her, a smirk ghosting on his lips. ''You've earned it.''

YN catches it and inspects the object in her hand. A small, golden broche catches the light, glinting in the dimly lit room. A head of the Bighorn ram stares back at her, the symbol of House Harkonnen. The taste of victory mingled with the metallic tang, leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth. Joy courses her veins—she isn't afraid. Finally, she is not afraid. Finally, she can look at her blood-stained hands without humiliation. Is it her fault she was born a better knife than a person?

Bighorn sheep are not a primary food source in most areas. However, when a lion does kill a sheep, they typically will continue to do so over and over again, until the herd is depleted.

tag list:

@oh-you-mean-me @juliskopf @moonsoulk @mamawiggers1980 @ashy-kit

[serawritesthings]

SPELLBOUND

Pairing | Legolas x Reader Summary | Your bittersweet love will surely endure until the last of your days. Word Count | 1.1k A/N | Hello lovelies! Ever since I was young, my love for Tolkien has been my greatest inspiration when it came to writing and world-building. But, also all the fantastic writers out there that had me plastered to my computer at 4 in the morning, staying up all night reading wonderfully written stories about all the characters. So, because of this, I am taking a tiiiiiiny step into the community with this short story, hoping some of you will enjoy it. If you do, I'll happily write some more, and if you have an idea you would like me to write, feel free to send me a message!

“Our love cannot be.” 

Her words had echoed in his mind since the moment they left her blushed lips, at first only mindless words lingering in his mind as he stared thoughtlessly, then excessively nagging at him with every chance. Obsessively and utterly spellbound, he could only stare into your teary eyes that never hid from him, taking your trembling lips to his longing ones in a silent protest and carefully surrendering to the prospect of a love that might be possible if you loved hard enough. 

How naive you were, for you said the words too late. What good did it bring to only now speak of what you should have said a long time ago?  Perhaps it could be a testament to yourself that you at least tried to cease what you had, however weak the attempt might have been. Furthermore, you might have wished for him to be stronger than you, more sensible–but perhaps you were too alike in that sense.

“How can you say those words when you already know how my heart longs for you?” You could only close your eyes as he spoke, words dripping like honey over your troubled mind. Momentarily, you bathed in the golden glow, feeling the tenderness soothe the aches and hurt. How could you give him an answer that wouldn’t cause pain when his very words pierced you so–when his care for you extended further than you could have ever expected?

Devastated by the uncertainty that clouded your mind, shaking fingers jerked away from their hold on the silk that covered his forearms. You gasped when his hands didn’t hesitate to grasp yours, placing your palms against his heart that thumped heavily beneath the layers of fabric. 

“Do you feel that?” He spoke softly, leaning his head down to try and meet your avoidant eyes as his other hand found your cheek. “It does not beat like this for anyone but you.”

Unshed tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession, overwhelmed by the idea of being loved by someone who would surpass the short time you had yet to live. Time was a cruel hand, one you couldn’t help but fear deeply, for he, bound to centuries, had a timeless plight while you were made to fade in the fleeting light.

“Our love is naught but a flame caught between two winds,” you say in sorrow, eyes closed to spare yourself the guilt you would feel if you gazed into his sky-blue eyes, the usual vibrancy muted–as if the stars that danced within them had momentarily dimmed. “It’s fragile and fleeting, how will it last?”

“Have I not pledged my heart to you?” Legolas implored, his words dulled with sorrow at the distress residing in your eyes. “Have I not deserved to relish in the warmth you bring me?” 

“Legolas…” He heard you whisper, a gentle plea that fell on deaf ears as he drew you closer, meeting your lips in a longing kiss. In a stolen breath, he reveled in the taste as his forever gentle hands cradled your face, fingers tracing the delicate contours as if to etch it into memory–into the fabric of his immortal being. 

With each passing heartbeat, the glade witnessed two souls so desperate yet unsure, and as it held its breath, the air shimmered around them in the quiet night. Like a silent whisper on your skin, his fingers lighted a path like fire as they caressed, refusing to let you pull away. Oh, how you wanted to. Yet, your heart clamped something so fiercely when the thought passed through your mind, the feeling not far from making you double over in anguish from having to be apart. 

The desperation in his embrace pulled at your heartstrings, urging you to cast away the dark thoughts that rained over you endlessly and lose yourself in his arms that wound their way around you–shielding you from hesitation and fear.

Yet tentative, your response wasn’t passive; fingers seeking refuge in the strands of his silken hair, and with each strand that slipped through your touch, only felt all the more consumed.

“You say it can’t be, yet why can’t my body stop aching for your touch even though you are right here, already in my arms?” His voice was a soft murmur in the night, lips parting for only a moment when speaking to find yours, then again, refusing to let you protest. “Mortal you may be, yet my heart yearning does not know the confines of time.”

Your gaze softened by his sincerity, voiced by her uncertainty. “I can not help but worry about what happens when my time passes. What aching memories will it leave you with…” You trailed off as the thought crossed your mind, but as you felt Legolas brush a strand of hair away from your tear-stained cheek, a soft determination shone through his glossy eyes. 

“Then surely I will pass, for I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life in a world where I can not gaze upon the wonders of your spirit that light up the darkest corners of my soul.” Yet melancholy, the words rang true as his voice had a slight undertone of acceptance that confused you. 

He knew that when the burden of your parting would become too heavy, he would transcend the sorrow that bound him to this earthy realm and leave all behind in hopes of once more feeling your touch on his graying skin. He came to welcome the idea a long time ago. Yet, the sadness in your eyes hurt him terribly, and his mind didn’t know how to lessen your anguish and recover the gleam that continuously resided deep within them, at times almost bursting with wonder.

“Why do you speak so indifferently? The thought does nothing but pains me something so fiercely.” He only gave you a soft smile in return, grasping your cheeks between his palms, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin underneath it.

“Can you not see, my love?” Placing his forehead against yours, his eyes pierced yours warmly, reassuring you that he only spoke of the truth. “In the realm beyond, we will once more find the embrace of one another, and I will continue to love you as I do now."

“Fret not, meleth nín.” Placing a tender kiss on your teary cheek, he whispered in your ear, bringing your head to rest wearily in the crook of his neck. “For you shall have me for the remaining part of your days, and when your departure becomes a burden too heavy to bear, I shall find you amidst the stars.”

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I’m on a horny rampage and am tired of acting like i’m not balls deep in a Scud brainrot because I am. He’s nothing but a stoned little slut and I crave him at all hours of the day

Scud is literally a natural born sub. Like the mommy kink is so deeply rooted in his bone marrow. He’s a literally baby for you, he loves sitting in your lap and having his back rubbed or his hair played with. He just needs to be as close to you as humanly possible.

He’s very needy, like very. Scud runs off sex and weed. After about two joints he has little hearts floating around him and is begging for your attention. This brings me to my next point that Scud would actually love to be pegged. When you first suggested it he was a little weirded out, but that quickly changed after some convincing, and after you made him see literal stars.

UGH It makes me wanna literally scream he’s just so fuckable. Let’s not even act like he doesn’t jerk off in the back of that van because we all know that he does. He just gets so bored of watching cameras all day, and he just misses you so much, plus its not like anyone will know.

Oh and Scud is definitely more on the sensitive side. His whole cock is made of pure tenderness, and every little touch has his toes curling. Don’t even get me started on how he would start to feel empty from not having your strap inside him, he’d be an entire mess.

Now there are times where Scud can be a little a dominant, but that’s when he’s completely touch-deprived and needs you so bad to the point it makes him a bit feral. He remembers that he’s much stronger than you and can technically do whatever he wants. His mind and body are on overdrive, he kisses you too rough sometimes, grabs you a bit too hard, or accidentally knocks you into something.

He’s extremely eager to fuck, and can barely get himself out his clothes in his haste. Instead he just pins you against the nearest wall and hoists you up, shoving your pants down before his own. You know how much Scud loves tits, so you bunch your shirt under your chin, hooking your arms around his shoulders and watching the way he nuzzles his face between them.

I’ve also thought about Scud having some kind of kink to being recorded during sex… like he obviously won’t say it outloud but yes he wants you to record how much of a whore he is, and yes he does rewatch the footage when he jerks off

thank you for coming to my ted talk like and subscribe for more 🦅

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[amourlyns]

Omg I am so sorry about my first request 🤦‍♀️(I over excited about seeing another blogger writing for windbreaker and over read your rules). Can you please request Joker, Wooin, Vinny, and Owen moving into  together into their first apartment

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ None

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Wooin + Owen Knight+ Vinny Hong + Joker + gn!reader


✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀This is short!! I apologize for that, I’ve just been a bit burnt out from windbreaker request 😭 ➜   masterlist 

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND JOKER GET YOUR FIRST apartment together it’s a tender moment for him. It’s a bit bitter sweet too, he knows where the money came from.

And you did too of course, but besides that… everything was perfect. J let’s you decorate everything. He loves the way your eyes shine in excitement when you guys talk about the life you guys will love together.

The whole thing is very intimate for the two of you.

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND OWEN GET YOUR FIRST apartment together its absolutely perfect. You guys are both on the same wavelength for everything and it goes exactly like planned.

The decor matches the both of you and the vibe.. the color scheme is on point… everything just flows between you two.

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND WOOIN GET YOUR FIRST apartment together, it’s a mess! The whole thing was really uncoordinated but you guys still made it.

The first few weeks of the move involves a lot of back and forth the two of you but you eventually get it together and start decorating.

You guys have a hard time find balance between it though. It can’t be a crazy man cave y’know?

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND VINNY GET YOUR FIRST apartment together it’s actually really organized. Which is odd, you never really envisioned it like this but V assured that everything was okay

You never did figure out how he had the funding for an apartment, and you never figured out how guided him through all of it.

You’re way too excited to dive into these details though. And he seemed happy too, also emotional… but he covered it up shortly after. A façade, almost.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Could you do the TADC cast x reader with a really heavy southern accent?

TADC cast x reader w/ a heavy southern accent!

hello i am back from my silly little lunch break i made a sandwich it was very yummy i need to find a new set of music to listen to while typing, as much as i love jack stauber i think im going to go insane if i hear baby hotline one more time... oddly enough not the first time that specific song has driven me nuts from being overplayed anyways idk side note idk what to do with gifs because i keep running out of TADC gifs and i got a reblog months back on a crp post that implies that gif makers get notified when you use their gifs?? is that true?? if so i am so so so sorry to the tadc gif makers TToTT also still gif related but i keep getting. jumpscared by butts n boobs anytime i open the gif thing i cannot keep doing this!!!!

CAINE:

i think he would find it pretty, like, i dont know how to explain it! i think he would possibly mimic some of your speech mannerisms. probably gives you a cowboy hat. i dont know what it is but i think southern accents, at least from what ive seen, is one of the most romanticized of american accents... maybe its the whole rugged cowboy thing thats commonly associated with it. what im trying to say that i think caine would romanticize it the same way, thanks to him not really having the experience of going out and interacting with people from the south

he finds the accent pretty

POMNI:

i dont think she would really notice it unless she is really trying to pay attention to what you say. but maybe thats just self projection because i myself dont really notice other peoples accents unless its very prominent, or they say something that sounds so different to how im used to hearing things. i feel it would be the same with pomni, but i dont think she would treat you any differently! wish i had more ideas but pomni and gangle are particularly hard for me to write for some reason

RAGATHA:

honestly i like to hc that she grew up in a southern small town before getting stuck in the digital world, but of course she wouldnt remember it... perhaps she would feel some sense of familiarity around you anyways, even if she cant pin down why.. i think that would be nice... she likes listening to you talk

JAX:

writing these out of order, but i think jax would be similar to caine in the regard that he would tease some of your speaking mannerisms. "yaint! yall'd've!" stuff like that... which... i can be mad about because im from the south and the two examples are in my vocabulary... hes not really saying anything thats incorrect, at least in my case

probably asks why your digital form isnt a cowboy, shit eating grin on his face

KINGER:

thinks it sounds nice! for once i dont have any ideas for kinger, which sucks because i love kinger TToTT

your words probably rub off on him, i can see him probably picking up on some of your terms n slang

kinger saying yall isnt real he cant hurt you

kinger saying yall:

ZOOBLE:

similar to pomni they dont notice until theyre forced to notice.. no but imagine your accent becomes more pronounced when you get mad, you start saying more stereotypically southern stuff that people associate. probably does a double take if you say a rather insane variant of 'yall' but otherwise doesnt see much point in pointing it out

GANGLE:

absolutely loves hearing you talk, similar to ragatha! while ragatha clings onto your words thanks to unknown familiarity, gangle just thinks your voice sounds like and soothing, comforting! i dont know what it is but hearing someone trying to comfort you with a heavy southern accent as well as using casual terms of endearment (whether you see this as romantic or platonic is up to you!) in this soft tender voice just always hits different for me. maybe i am guilty of also romanticizing southern accents

[90sbee]

My rough edges, your soft waves

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!Reader

2.3k words. Also on ao3.

Kneeling between your legs, biting the flesh of your thighs, touching, his eyes mesmerised by the way your fat moves and undulates with every touch of his. He resembles an artist toying with his paint palette, about to dive into a sweet act of creation, of love. His fingertips crawl on your thighs, and he stares, fascinated like the first time, how your skin sinks and then returns to its normal shape. A sea that doesn’t stay quiet, moves with every breath.

Leon has finally found his other half: someone soft enough to handle his rough edges. Or the fic in which Leon is too crazy about his curvy partner and gets horny.

What can I say, us curvy/chubby people need more self indulgent fics. @delphi-shield made sure this was decent. @lightning-hawke and @obsolescent, tagging you in case you wanna check it out (tho no pressure, I mean it!) Content: No use of y/n, fluff, established relationship, had older Leon in mind. So an unspecified age gap. Reader is shorter than Leon. He is not that good with his words but he is good with his tongue (pun intended). Pet names, compliments. Warnings: +18 cos smut (though not that explicit). Oral sex, penetration. Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. Leon is a bit insecure but he is so in love it hurts.

Leon kisses your forehead once more, your sleepy body on top of his. He sighs, breathing slowly, his heart calm. The movie keeps playing on the TV, the screen slightly illuminating the living-room, yet you don’t care about the plot anymore. You press your cheek against his neck, closing your eyes.

“You’re comfy.”

“I thought that was an understatement already.” You don’t need to look up at him to know that he is smirking. He is not usually this overly confident, but he’s gotten a bit cocky since you’ve started dating. Something about the presence of someone else, a warm body, a sugary-sweet voice telling him that he is worthy, that he matters, that he is pretty and strong and brave and that he is enough.

You could say something back, try to add a witty remark, but you let out a huff, closing your eyes.

“It is midnight, baby,” you remind him. “It’s late enough for me to be sleepy, after all.”

Leon softens at that. Lies down more comfortably on the couch, making sure not to disturb you. His precious little angel, precious little soul. He kisses your cheek then.

Leon wants to say something, conjure up a nice compliment in his head, let it spill from his mouth, since the sight of you on top of him makes him a little dizzy still. Clothed or naked, both times holding an air of dominance against him.

You notice his heart pick up, caressing the skin of his chest by gently grazing his t-shirt.

“Someone is… having thoughts?” You look up, finally. The tender eyes, the smirk now on your face.

“I’m not,” he says. "Are you?” He contemplates, voice raspy, though he knows the fight is lost. Gosh, he still feels silly whenever you read him so easily. It may be a good thing, though, since he still struggles to verbalise things. Prefers to let thoughts linger, to crack a joke or simply let his body talk for him.

“You’re blushing, Leon.” He shakes his head, moves one of his hands to rest on your butt, patting it as if admitting defeat. And it’s true. The glimmer from the screen, the credits already rolling allow you to see his cheeks get pinker. “Cute,” you add, moving to sit on his lap, cupping his cheek quickly, pulling it too before he can even react.

“Very funny,” he says, rubbing his cheek, his other hand bringing you closer to his chest. “You know,” he begins then, blue gaze all tender. Melting inside. “You are like… a teddy bear,” he sighs in an attempt to compliment you. Something about feeling comforted by you, by sleeping peacefully beside you.

You frown, confusion drawing on your face. “Because I am smaller than you and you like sleeping with me?” Comes your cheeky reply.

Leon laughs. Pure joy emanating from his chest, glistening sound caressing your heart as he pulls you closer into him, forcing you to lie on his chest once more.

“So, are my clever remarks contagious, love?” he says, his hand grazing your back, giggling still.

“Nah, I think it’s the other way around.” You touch his arm, trace patterns on his skin as you yawn. “I am influencing you. Probably making you all witty and shit.”

“Just witty?” He inquires, his tone slightly suggestive, taking your face in his hand and kissing your jaw. His stubble makes you tickle.

“Ugh. Nasty old man,” you giggle and he holds you closer, his arm around your body, his hand grabbing at your fleshy hip.

“I’m not. I just like you,” he explains, diving his head between the crook of your neck and your head.

But it’s more than liking. And you both know it. Leon is just not very good at organising the immensity of what he feels for you, the depth which feels so calm and home-like.

He closes his eyes. For a while, you stay in silence. His eager hands grab your hips harder, toy with the flesh as he presses another lazy kiss to your jaw. You bury a sigh into his skin, smiling. God, he could melt like this. Warm, comfortable soul, shining as bright as a sun when you’re close to him, when he kneads his fingertips under your t-shirt to feel you. The reminder that you’re real. Not going anywhere.

His hands grip you harder, and he groans then.

“Leon,” you mewl. It’s not a warning or a complaint. More of a question. Perhaps even a suggestion. He chuckles, opens his eyes to meet your sleepy gaze and your smirk. “You don’t need to grab me like that… No one is stealing me…”

“I am, actually,” He huffs. “Stealing your heart,” Leon adds, burrowing his face against your chest, trying to kiss and get through your skin, enter your chest, tuck himself between your heart and your lungs. Close, too close.

You giggle and hold him, arms around his head, fingertips drawing on his nape. Hope to maybe calm his overactive self this time, knowing that he will probably wake up in the morning and complain about not getting enough sleep, eyebags on his face, yet when he looks at you his mouth keeps a perpetual dumb smile. But this time he keeps on kissing, riding your t-shirt up until you gasp. His mouth on your skin, biting, licking gently as his hands caress your hips, keep you on his arms.

“Leon…” you whine, getting flustered, kneading on his hair as if he was a kitten. His touch inviting, igniting a fire within you.

“Sorry… You’re just too hot,” he replies, mouth busy as he captures one of your nipples between his lips. His voice is raspy, lower than usual. Brain hazy, and all his senses in overdrive. “So fucking gorgeous and soft and mine…” Leon caresses your stomach, not an inch is left untouched as he keeps on kissing you through rugged breaths.

Truly, he is obsessed with you. Obsessed with your body. Since the moment he met you he was fascinated. He’d look at himself in the mirror, his body slimmer, muscle over muscle, scars and the passage of time on his skin, and he would imagine you beside him. He could drool at the image of your belly, feel himself blush when thinking about your pretty cheeks. But he would also stroke himself dry and until his tip hurt just thinking of your hips, your fat thighs and the flesh of your arms. God, he was so attracted to you. So round, soft, pliant, so unlike him. Not tainted by violence. Warmer, younger.

More alive. A starry hope for him.

The first time you two slept together Leon spent an ungodly amount of time in foreplay… Kissing, gripping, moaning between your legs. Sweet praise and saliva spilling from his mouth.

And when he finally entered you, made himself at home inside you, he would not stop whimpering. Needy hips thrusting quickly, groaning, his hands locked to your hips. He didn’t tell you, but the sight of your soft thighs and tummy dancing to his thrusts tipped him over the edge, the idea of him being so capable of shaping you to his desires, his dick able to sculpt your flesh into the nicest shapes. Tenderness, home among the hard edges he was used to handling. Leon came too early, and apologised profusely afterwards, making sure to get you to sit on his face before the night ended, getting you off too enthusiastically, his hands never leaving your hips and stomach as your thighs framed his pretty face. He felt in heaven.

And you’d never felt so desired.

That feeling has remained, not just in bed, but it’s found you in every moment beside him. Acts of service are common with him: he’s learning your favourite recipes, he always makes the bed with a smile on his face, glad to wake up beside you once more. But it’s not just that. It’s also the way Leon lazily kisses you every morning, how he pats your butt while making your breakfast. The way he licks his lips and gets flustered at the sight of the outfit you’ve picked out for a night out with friends. The way he sighs, content, against your belly when he comes home and shyly begs to nap on top of you, how he kisses your shoulder whenever your t-shirt barely drapes over it, preaches compliments against your skin, reminds you how much he loves you.

Leon feels crazy about you. He bites your nipple harder as he pushes you down on the couch, positions himself on top of you, keeps on caressing you, groaning once more, his hands gripping your hips hard again. He needs you. Needs to cocoon himself in your sweet flesh to remind himself that the world is kind and full of love and gave him the biggest gift he could ever ask for: you.

“Mine, mine…” He seems to sing as a lullaby, or a prayer, drunk in you as he hears your moans. His mouth moves lower, bites the flesh of your tummy, cages you with his strong arms as he breathes next to your navel.

By now you feel aroused. Breathing quickly, lips quivering as you look down at him. He seems to take a moment to rest, catching his breath and you grab his face, make him look at you.

“Damn,” you giggle, caressing his cheek, and he melts completely with your touch, closes his eyes. You swear he could purr. It is funny, you think. How you make him go crazy by the mere act of your existence. Seems like the heavens decided to somehow grace you with Leon. Both your boyfriend and your guardian, so devoted to you he could kiss the floor you walk on.

It seems that the small break makes him get out of the needy trance he was in, as he smirks, nodding. “Shit, sorry.” His voice is strained but his gaze feels sweeter. “You good?” He checks, seemingly worried.

“You’re kidding me? I’m great. I just didn’t expect you to be this… horny about me.”

He smiles and kisses your hand, before letting out a sigh.

“It’s ‘cause you’re… perfect,” he explains after a moment. Leon is looking into your eyes, his corny expression blissfully drawn by the light of the commercials on TV. One of his hands lightly grips your hip and he looks down at your body again. “I like you. Like your body,” he slurs out, blushing, his thumb toying with your waistband. He licks his lips rapidly, not looking at your eyes anymore. Shy, you know he’s gotten a little shy now. Has said too much, been too straightforward. But that’s okay. You love him. Whatever he gives you, you give it back to him tenfold. “Can I…?” He begins, his thumb going lower. You nod, of course.

He is gentler this time. Slides onto the carpet next to the couch, kneels there as he tenderly gets rid of your jeans, his hands playing around your hips, descending on your thighs, grabbing calves and ankles, kissing you, moaning.

You wonder sometimes what’s on his mind in those moments. He looks focused, so concentrated. Hasn’t even touched you where you want him yet, but you let him have this. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine this as a sort of therapy for Leon. Kneeling between your legs, biting the flesh of your thighs, touching, his eyes mesmerised by the way your fat moves and undulates with every touch of his. He resembles an artist toying with his paint palette, about to dive into a sweet act of creation, of love. His fingertips crawl on your thighs, and he stares, fascinated like the first time, how your skin sinks and then returns to its normal shape. A sea that doesn’t stay quiet, moves with every breath.

Leon licks his lips again, wondering how he could put it into words. How he could explain that when he looks at you he sees the kind of life he wanted for himself. How with every sight of your hips or your arms, he remembers once more that there is something more to the tragedy that always seems to veil him. How he thinks not only that you look perfect, but that your body is a perfect representation of your inner workings, of the light you hold inside; tenderness, warmth, a blanket that surrounds him, something he can squish when his mind gets too dark, the knowledge and the relief that, even if he may be rough, too used to violence and death, he won’t hurt you: your flesh can take it, your body can take him. His fingertips can’t mark you forever, your skin won’t suffer. You’re pliable, strong in your softness, made for him.

He looks up at you, at your hazy and needy expression and he smiles before finally getting rid of that last item of clothing.

He loves you. Loves you too much.

Leon wishes he could put it into words indeed. He is not sure he would be very good at explaining it, but he has time. He will learn. Sure, he still gets flustered and words fail him, but he trusts that you will stay as he gets better at this. At loving you as deeply as possible, at not overthinking how he shows his affection.

With that confidence in mind, he takes one of your hands in his, rubs your knuckles as an anchor, and finally dives his mouth between your legs, makes sure to kiss and lick and bite as you want him, as you need him, use his other hand to follow your curves and please you.

After all, if his own words fail him, may his mouth and his body be good enough to tell you how he feels. And as he robs a moan out of your throat, he reassures himself that there is indeed a future ahead of him still. The promise of a life of comfort and a sweet company to take care of, to praise and to love as ardently as his chest will allow it.

The promise of a future with you.

I can't believe this was supposed to be just fluff. Jsjjsjsjs. Dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/vase-of-lilies

[the-fiction-witch]

Heat Of The Water P3

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Choose your own house) Rating - SMUT Word Count - 2293

Jace continued to gaze at her as she lay there, his eyes raking her body as she lay in his arms and his hand stroked her hair. He was overwhelmed by a desire to explore her body further at this moment, but he forced himself to remain still. He wanted to respect her, and he also did not wish to ruin the moment for her. The way she lay upon him was so inviting, and his heart raced at the idea of making her his in that way. His imagination began to race, filling his mind with images of how he should proceed.

"thank you" she giggled, "Thank you very much my prince" she cooed giving his lips another kiss,

Jace smiled down at her now, unable to deny that it felt incredibly good to be praised by her. He returned her kiss passionately, feeling the heat of the moment start to rise again. His hand slowly moved to her back, slowly beginning to slip lower as he enjoyed the feel of her body against his. He knew exactly where he wanted to take this, but he still held himself back for the moment. His eyes moved to her neck once again, tempted to steal more kisses from her.

she giggled, "Jace? What are you up to?" She giggled

Jacaerys looked down at her again, A soft smile came to his face as he realized she had seen what he was doing. His hand stilled, now resting upon her lower back as he looked into her eyes. "Nothing, my Lady, I just wanted to see if you were feeling any more... comfortable now," he replied, glancing down at her chest again.

"I am feeling comfortable, tried but comfortable why?"

"I was just curious. I know that what we have just done was... intimate." Jace looked down at her once again, feeling the heat rising in his body as he looked at her. His hand on her back had slipped lower, his thumb starting to rub the top of her ass. He wanted her to know he hadn't forgotten where he intended to take this, but he wanted to hear her answer this question first.

she blushed a little "Yes? It was. It was very intimate. And I enjoyed it very much and thanked my sweet betrothal greatly for giving me such a ... Thrill. Humm I take it he now wants to play with something else?"

Jace raised an eyebrow, his own body trembling with excitement as his hand continued to rub the top of her ass. He couldn't help but notice her blushing as well. He took it as another sign that she was willing to be so playful after what they had just explored, and he loved that she felt so comfortable with him. "Well, my Betrothed, I... may have had something else in mind... but I would only want to if you are up for it my sweet"

she blushed slightly but she smiled "My betrothed is more than welcome to do whatever it is he has on the mind as a thank you for supplying me with such pleasure"

Jace could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she seemed to be quite enthusiastic about what they were doing. He felt a surge of energy flow through him as he realized that she was giving him such open freedom to explore her body. His thumb continued its rubbing, and he made little attempt to conceal what had grown from his excitement. "Well, my Lady, that is quite the invitation. I'm sure you are not prepared for how much I intend to take advantage of this..." he whispered,

"I'm sure I am not but willing all the same"

Jace could feel it now, his excitement was almost at a breaking point, his body trembling in his anticipation for the next part. He leaned down to kiss her, not a tender one this time but a bold one that betrayed his wants and desires. He pushed her back slightly, beginning to move his hand down between her legs towards where he wanted to explore. Jace's hand moved between her legs, his thumb hovering just above where he wished to enter. He couldn't believe she was actually giving him this much leeway in the moment. He was already imagining going even further, but he wanted to focus on her pleasure for now. He looked back down at her face, finding her blushing as he made his approach. She looked so innocent, yet she had been such a naughty little girl in terms of her desires. He was starting to wonder just how much more he could get away with. He moved his hand to meet her sweet lips and stroked between them his fingers soon found her pussy and slipped in without concern, his thumb gently circling her clit, Jace could see how excited he was making her, and was only further enticed by the idea.

She was so receptive to him, Y/n squealed in response given he had already made her cum since their bath began and now he was tormenting her once more, her hands grabbed his wrist between her legs

Jace was almost entirely focused on her pleasure at this point, the power and ability to make her squeak and moan with simply his touch making him feel incredibly powerful. He could feel her grabbing his wrist, and he wasn't sure at this point whether she wanted him to go further or stop. He decided to test the waters, and his finger began to push inside her.

she screamed and threw her head back her breasts coming above the water as her body trembled in response

Jace's face was almost entirely red at this point, the sight of her body and the sound of her screams sending his body into overdrive. His body was trembling in response to the sight of how his touch was making her respond, and his eyes were glued on her every reaction to his touch.

she screams and squeals louder then he had ever heard a woman scream as if she was screaming bloody murder for him the sounds of them moving in the water inaudible over her squeals her body blushing red and squirming on him trying to resist her hands clamped around his wrist

Jace was incredibly excited to hear these sounds coming from her, and he could not resist the urge to explore further despite the grip she had on his wrist. He continued to push gently, his finger starting to move in and out slowly. His eyes were glued on how her body was responding, and every twitch and convulsion was making him crave her even more.

she moans loudly his name falling like a waterfall from her lips her head thrown back

Jace found himself utterly speechless, his body tingling as he listened to the sounds coming out of her. The way she let out his name in those sweet squeals and moans was more enjoyable than anything he had ever experienced. He wanted to continue, moving his finger faster and faster to gain a better rhythm.

she continues all her squirming more words now fall from her lips "Jace .. please... Stop..." She begged but breathy and desperately she didn't want him to stop she tried to hide how excited she really is

Jace began to feel conflicted, the way she said his name with such desperation and desire was almost overwhelming. However, he couldn't help but notice that she was telling him to stop, and it was tearing at him inside to hear it. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it and keep going, but his mind would not allow it. He stopped his fingers as he looked up at her, seeking her permission to continue.

as he stopped she kissed his lips and moved herself slightly in the bath she moved to her knees and leant her head on the rim of the stone tub jace immediately noticed this made her bent over as she gasped as blushed, The sight of her bending over was the final push he needed to ignore the voice in his head that was trying to stop him. He was enjoying her body too much to stop, and he couldn't help but feel confident that she wanted him to keep going. The way she had moved herself made it very clear what her intentions were, and he was determined to give her more of what she needed and wanted. Jace didn't hesitate any longer, his hand starting to move up behind her. She was bent over the rim of the bathtub so this left her rear vulnerable and accessible. He ran his hands up her thighs, finding she had spread her legs slightly. He couldn't resist a quick squeeze of her ass before his hand started to move upwards between her thighs, moving up closer and closer to where he wanted to go.

she squealed a little feel his squeeze but she uncontrollably moved to spread more feeling his hand

Jace had never felt a body react anything like this before, and it sent his own desires into overdrive. Her reaction to his hand squeezing had him wanting more, and he began to move his hands gripping her and forcing her so she was spreading for him more so it was easier to explore. He couldn't believe how willing she was to let him do this. He was just as surprised at the way her hips tilted back further at the feeling of his hand reaching between her legs once more, Jace tried to keep things slow, wanting to make this last as long as possible, however every inch of her he discovered only made him want to go a little bit deeper and explore even further. With a boldness he had not known he was capable of. He found himself trembling with his own desire.

Jace looked up to see how much she had spread her legs now, enjoying the sight of her bent over before him.

she gasped and blushed hard with his every touch so much she began whining "Jace... Please..."

Jace looked back up to her, finding her face was now redder from their interactions. Her whinning only increased his own desires, He couldn't resist, Jace let out a soft chuckle, hearing her begging him he was enjoying the feeling of that dominance within him. He had never felt anything this enjoyable before, and the way she was reacting was only fueling him more. His hand continued to move his fingers in and out of her, getting faster and faster with her begging. He let himself take in the beautiful sounds coming from her as he made her beg for more. He was still somewhat hesitant, but he felt that urge building within him, driving him to a point where he couldn't resist anymore.

she begged him loudly screaming it "please more Jace please no more of your hand I beg you, please take your hand away please give me something else you what I want I need Jace please give it to me my love"

Jace's eyes widened to hear her begging for more, and he became even more confident as she screamed for him. Almost as if she was giving him permission to go in whatever direction he wanted. The way she had described this "something else" he was giving her only enhanced his excitement. Jace could not resist the urge to take her up on her offer, the way she was screaming for him to give her something else driving him into a frenzy. He smirked “As you desire my sweet,” getting a good grasp of her backside. He pushed her a little further forward, so he had enough access to give her exactly what she was begging for.

Jace began slowly giving himself a few short strokes but he was already more than hard enough so he moved closer and gently slipped inside which made her squeal out in desire at finally getting what she wanted, Jace pushed further Her entire body trembled with how deep he was now, and he felt her insides clamping around him as she screamed loudly. His body responded in kind, his breathing speeding up as his desire rose higher and higher.

He grabbed her hips hard his mind filled only with a desire for her, for this feeling, for his release, he never wanted this moment to end, he wanted to go slow and enjoy it forever but he had little control over himself as his hips buck and thrust mindlessly fueled by her ever-growing moans and screams of pleasure she screams his name as if his name is all that is keeping her alive, until her whole body trembles and shakes, her insides tighten around him, her voice breaks and shreds, her mouth hung open in a long throaty scream, as she hits her orgasm which Jace struggled with the feeling of and in turn lost any control of himself he still had his body working on its own for rapid jackrabbit like thrusts before he quickly forced himself away and sent his seed across her back,

"Fuck-" he grunted before his knees gave out and he lay against the bathtub letting the warm water cradle his exhausted body, y/n too slowly moved with what little energy she had until she laid beside him the two cuddling up lazily as they gasp in the heat of the water. “I uhhh I don’t know what came over me there…”

“I didn’t mind Jace,” she giggled,

“I’m sure you didn’t,” He smirked, “I didn’t either honestly,”

“I know one thing though,”

“Oh? What’s that my sweet?” He asked wrapping his arms around her,

“I cannot wait till we’re married Jacaerys,” she giggled,

“I can’t wait till we’re married either Y/n,” He smiled pulling her into a kiss, 

[ksfreckles]

This is coming from a very painful place. A place that is bleeding and pleeding with all its will for this to be false. Or for them to change their minds, I don’t care.

I am so tired of feeling like this. So tired of never getting closure to the things I love, tired of never even getting to start watching certain shows because the lesbians die, or get cancer, or whataver.

Willow was the one good thing we had in such a long time, fantasy wise, and it hit me different than anything else. 

Now I’m crying thinking about how I’ll have to move on from it, how I’ll have to deal with:

- Never knowing how did Kit remove the cuirass, 

- Never getting to see Kit and Jade have small moments of tenderness,

- Never getting to see Kit and Jade call each other girlfriends,

- Never getting to know how Graydon would come back (cause I knew he would),

- Never getting to know what really happened to Madmartigan,

- Never getting to see Sorsha welcome her kids back, 

- Never getting to see Boorman back with Scorpia,

- Never getting to see more o Jade and the Bone Reavers,

- Never getting to see Kit and Elora interact more.

Among so many other things I’m honestly too tired and too sad to ever wrap my mind around. 

I would go as far as saying I wish I had never watched that show in the first place, cause then it wouldn’t hurt so much, but that wouldn’t be fair to the cast and crew and everyone who put so much of their souls into this, into bringing this wonderful queer story into the world.

I’m so thankful to have gotten to live this, but right now my heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces, and I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

I hope people continue to write fics about them, specially in canon, so that we have something to hold on to, but I have been here long enough to know how fast we move on from story to story and I don’t really know if we will get that at all. 

I hope I don’t lose whatever few friends I made here, but that’s also a long shot. 

I’m sad. So very sad. 

[a-strange-echo]

Flufftober day 7: "Porch swing"

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Just a nice evening with your husband Steve Rogers and his best friend.

Word count: 612

Warning: Bucky's cooking skills (he was distracted by the sight of his best friend ('s romantic moment)), none just fluff

Author's note: This one is very late I am sorry, i really haven't been feeling like writing for a while but it's coming back so i will post every day I missed soon. Also, day 6 migt come very late, I can't find the motivation to write this one, I don't know why. English is not my first langage and it's still not beta read, sorry for any mistake, please notify me if there is any.

Author's feelings: I really like this one, I hope you do too.

Everything was fine now. The war against Thanos ended. Steve volunteered to bring the stones back in their timelines and although you and Bucky were a little scared Steve would stay with Peggy in 1939, he came back. With Natasha. Everything was nice, Tony is alive (thanks to a last utilization of the stones), Natasha came back when Steve brought the Soul Stone back on Vormir, and Steve had his dance with Peggy, like they promised each other back in the days. And the first thing he did after bequeathing his shield to Sam was to finally marry you and buy this house on the countryside he had always wanted. It was a pretty big house, a cottage not far away from the city but far enough he didn’t feel as if he would have to jump into battle at any given moment. The stone walls of the house were perfect to isolate from the cold of the winter but kept the inside fresh in summer. It also had a big backyard to plant some flowers and other plants. But what Steve preferred about the house was its wooden front porch with the swing he hung there. He liked to sit here during cool evenings, watching the stars or just enjoying the calm of his new life.

Tonight was especially perfect. Bucky was visiting and you were more than happy to have him over for a few days. He was helping you cook dinner in the kitchen when you saw Steve sitting on the porch swing. You asked Bucky if he would be alright finishing to cut the vegetables on his own. At first he was confused by the sudden question, cooking together had always been your thing, but when he saw you glance at Steve outside, he smiled and shooed you away. You took a plaid that was laying on the couch after washing your hands of the remaining tomato juice and smell and joined Steve outside.

You tried to sneak up on him even if you knew he had heard you as soon as you opened the door. You were only a few feet away from him when you saw his tender smiled and soft eyes. You decided against your original plan to dump the blanket on his head and instead walked around the swing and sat beside him, draping the plaid over your legs. Steve smiled and took you hand in his. Even after years of being together, it still made your heart flutter when this big, strong man was being so soft with you.

“-You look like an old man, sitting on the porch swing and watching the sunset.” You teased softly, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“-That’s because I am an old man.” he laughed.

“-True.”

You both giggled at that, stuck in your bubble, your own little world. After calming down, you leaned closer to him and put your head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand that was still holding yours. You watched as the sky shifted from blue to orange and from orange to pink. It was so pretty but if you asked Steve, he would respond that nothing was more beautiful than you. And you would disagree, and he would insist that it’s true and you would have a small, funny argument over it. But that didn’t happen today, he just placed a soft kiss to your temple and you knew what it meant: a silent ‘I love you’.

Everything was fine on the porch swing, just two lovers sharing a tender, romantic moment and the husband’s best friend behind them, not daring to interrupt their moment to tell them he burned the food.

[fangirleaconmigo]

I just finished Time of Contempt for the third time and I am deep deep deep in my Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon feelings again. Now that know what’s coming and I understand her arc, I’m catching a lot more.

TW: mentions of sexual assault

Ciri’s descent, which we see a hint of at the end this book, her “corruption arc” is the story of what war, and what the associated abandonment and abuse of children, does to a society. It is a visceral story about how (as the saying goes) A child who is not embraced by the village, will burn it down to feel its warmth.

Probably the worst interview of Sapko that my eyes have had the displeasure to read was a guy who asked him basically (paraphrased) how could Ciri’s mind be so “weak” that she falls into murder and crime after everything she learned from Geralt.

And like BUDDY DID YOU NOT READ THE STORY? Wow ok.

Sapko is like…because that is real, look around you.

“Well, I suppose here my fantasy becomes very real and lifelike. What happened to Ciri happened to hundreds of teenagers, in that number some I knew.”

There is a narrative.

And when kids are all by themselves and repeatedly traumatized and threatened, they will turn where they need to for safety. Their minds and the way they process empathy and emotions will change as a result of related abuse.

And to me, that arc is very believable. And it is part of her rite of passage of ultimately choosing good and coming fully into her power, choosing the love and example of her found family (primarily Geralt and Yen but also Kaer Morhen and Dandelion). In this terrible interview (seriously someone let me interview the man I could do better) he says:

And – last not least – that’s me, the author, who has invented Ciri and her fate, who has invented the whole storyline, and the storyline required of Ciri to become a teenage killer. It was a stage in her rite de passage, the rite of passage.

It is an arc. And for me a very believable (if extremely painful one) First there is the “before”.

The story is very clear who Ciri is before she is alone without the protection of Yen and Geralt.

Her character is already established by Time of Contempt but the narrative still goes through the trouble of showing her deny the offer of destructive power.

As a little girl, (in Blood of Elves) Ciri risks herself to save Triss’s life when she and Geralt’s caravan is attacked. She doesn’t wait for someone else to help, she shields Triss with her body. (That made me feel some kinda way in retrospect let me tell ya)

In the same scene we see how tender hearted she is towards the elves plight and how she resolves not to be neutral.

Blood of Elves and Time of Contempt both show how she is just a little kid who wants parents (running away to see Geralt, writing him letters from Meliteles temple begging him to come see her, identifying fiercely as a witcher girl of Kaer Morhen, idolizing Yen)

But at the end of Time of Contempt, Ciri still makes two dramatic, narrative establishing decisions, that show what kind of person she is.

First is the refusal of power. The refusal of revenge.

In the desert, she taps into prohibited power (fire power) to save Little Horse. It begins to consume her, offering her dominion over the world. It is personified by Falka and it shows Ciri vengeance. It shows her her enemies. It shows her the people who killed her grandma and sacked Cintra. It shows her the black knight.

Ciri and vengeance is already a theme. We know she feels urges towards vengeance for the people who slaughtered her family. The only bad fight she’s had with Geralt was about that. (She says she wanted vengeance and he overreacts and has to follow her and comfort her and apologize. The narrative doesn’t let us hear what he says, it’s through Triss’s eyes, but it is heart wrenching)

And now she is being offered vengeance by showing her what it really looks like. People suffering and dying. And it’s asking hey little girl you want this? Because I can give it to you.

This power also shows her her loved ones.

At this point in the story, Ciri is alone, lost in a desert, and feels abandoned. And any kid that feels abandoned blames her parents. It makes her a very believable kid character. Im alone? Where are my parents?? They’ve abandoned me?? At least that’s what she says.

But when the power offers her the opportunity to take the hurt she is feeling and hurt them back she is horrified.

She shouts out loud that she relinquishes it. She relinquishes all the power and collapses.

She makes an incredibly important decision to refuse destructive vengeful power.

The second thing that happens to establish her character at this point in the saga is she is being pursued by people who want to kill her and/or turn her into Nilfgaard. She is running and trying to escape. She is armed and gets a clear shot at a pursuer but again, sees a human face, and can’t do it. She shows mercy because her empathy will not allow her to see a persons face and kill them.

She is very lucky to survive that encounter.

She is a good, decent, human being.

But the story doesn’t leave us there. It gives us an ominous hint of the oncoming storm.

To get out of a life threatening situation, she joins a gang called The Rats. The Rats are a group of heavily traumatized war orphans who have been abandoned, raped, and abused and have banded together to not be alone. They’ve become murderers and no longer feel empathy for those they harm, but rather they take pleasure at killing others. She sees the look in their faces and identifies it as evil.

They adopt her. They protect her. Suddenly she is ‘safe’. Suddenly she is with others like her (war orphans with heavy trauma). Suddenly she is no longer alone. She is being offered a new identity (her old identity will get her killed at this point) She is them.

They also sexually assault her. (Cycle of abuse. I had to fast forward those parts. I’m listening to the audio and I can’t do that again)

But by the end Ciri has a new family. It’s the only option to her for survival. She finally manages to kill someone and takes the name Falka.

And as the return reader, you already know just how horrific it’s gonna get before it gets better. The feelings of doom. Ooof.

There is so much coming and if you’ve already read it, the dread is real.

It takes worse torture and assault than you can possibly imagine for Ciri to become the “teenaged killer” the narrative demands.

Because above all Ciri is like Yen. She is a survivor. She is angry. She has impulses for vengeance when she is harmed. All of these things are normal and human and can be given healthy outlets in normal situations. But this is not a normal situation.

So yeah I love her so much and the feelings of doom I have going into the next book are hanging over me. Of course it makes the bloody vengeance at the end that much more satisfying. But yeah.

And just to be clear I don’t judge her at all for anything she does during this “corruption” arc. I just don’t. She is surviving and no one can make me hate her ever. I’m an irrational person when it comes to her. And the her growth, her arc is one of the most satisfying I’ve ever read.

Most of us may not be war orphans being pursued by half the world. But the parallels to being an unprotected teenaged girl in a world that wants to exploit you, chew you up, and spit you out, is something those of us who came from abusive homes can understand. It is ultimately very validating and inspiring.

So I’ll be skipping the worst parts on audio. Some of them I just can’t do again. But I’m still obsessed with this story and I love my girl.

Ok thanks for reading my Ciri feels.

[championleonsslut]

I know you've had a similar ask like this about virgin Leon and I really loved that fic, so I was wondering if Leon and his s/o are both virgins and don't even realize it for a bit, especially the reader who thought Leon would have been experienced with his many fans and fame and they admit nervously that they just don't want to disappoint Leon🥺

Surprised Pikachu face for both of them when they realize they're in the same boat and have both been waiting to try and make it right for each other. Queue very fluffy and passionate lovemaking, especially since they had been pining for each other since Leon started his journey as champion and eventually helped his s/o achieve the same and feelings just grew through the whole game

Omfg this is too cute and I am a sucker for some good old lovemaking every now and then

“You too, huh?”

Tender and sweet af sex it’s kinda sickening

Female reader

You wanted to have sex with Leon, you really did. But… There was just one problem. You’d never had sex before… And Leon… He’s Leon.

You’d feel embarrassed being so inexperienced with the champion who’s probably fucked hundreds of his fans.

But… The wait was killing you. So that night you both were seated on the bed, and you broke.

You sighed, “Leon… I… I want to have sex with you.”

Leon blinked at you.

“I-I know you’ve probably had lots of sex with your fans… And I doubt I’ll be as good… B-Because I’ve never had sex before… I want you to take my virginity.”

Leon just stared at you for a few moments, before he chuckled.

“You want me to take your virginity?”

You nodded.

“Well it’d be more of a trade, since you’d be getting mine too.”

Now it was your turn to blink in surprise.

“Y-You’re a virgin too?”

He nodded, “I’ve never fucked any of my fans, and all my past relationships never really got past heavy-makeouts. I was hoping to save it for you anyway… Because I’d never wanna be with someone like that if they weren’t you. I mean, I’ve liked you since I was a kid! And now… Now you’re my girl…”

Your cheeks reddened at his words, and he brought a hand up to caress your cheek.

He grinned, “I honestly thought you’d got around more. Especially with how pretty you are, good thing I snagged you, right?”

You chuckled, which turned into a gasp as Leon leaned into nibble away at your neck as he ran his hands all over you.

Each caress was like sparks, especially when he touched your hips and thighs. He was gently nibbling at your neck the entire time, and his hands moved up your back to begin fiddling with the back of your dress.

His lips left your neck, and your eyes met instead. His were ridden with lust and love, and half-lidded to match the blush and smirk on his face.

Your dress was off faster than you could blink, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Leon practically drooled at the sight, and you went to tug at his jersey.

You’d seen him shirtless before, but this was a whole new experience.

The next few moments were a flurry of heated passion. Leon’s lips were on yours, his tongue was in your mouth, claiming its territory. He had tugged off his long socks and shorts, and also got to work on your bra.

Once your breasts were exposed, Leon’s eyes lit up as he looked them over.

He pinched a nipple between his fingers, “Beautiful…”

You chuckled, and his lips were quickly back on yours. Soon, the two of you were fully bare. You were quite taken with the sight of his erect, bouncing cock that was just begging for attention.

You were going to reach for it, but Leon had a question.

“Have you… Ever touched yourself before?”

You shook your head, “It’s all too complicated…”

He nodded in understanding, which turned into a chuckle.

“So I’m giving you your first orgasm too?”

That made you blush and look away.

Leon gazed down at your bare pussy, and wasted no time in digging into his meal. His tongue was so warm and wonderful, you yelped at the feeling.

He went right for your clit at first, and it made you tremble. Then, he slowly eased you open with one finger… And then another. He tried three but you were too tight for that.

Cumming for the first time was difficult, but Leon didn’t seem to mind how long it took. He was happy to chow down on your cunt all night long. When he finally tipped you over the edge, you let out a scream of his name that went right to his ego.

You were panting by the time he was done, and your juices were all over his face. He licked them right off.

He pointed a finger at your soaked pussy, “That. That is delicious. That’ll be my dessert every night now.”

You had no complaints.

He gently laid you down on the bed, and got on top of you. You could feel him poking you, and were jittery with excitement.

He glanced down at you, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You rapidly nodded, and he began to slowly push in.

It hurt at first, but then it stopped. There seemed to be some kind of barrier that was blocking him from going all the way in.

You were going to tell him that he’s too big and he won’t fit and-

Then something snapped inside you, and Leon accidentally shoved all the way in.

Leon blinked, and pulled out a little.

“What was that?”

You glanced down, and his dick was slightly bloody.

“You broke my hymen.”

He blinked.

“Was that important?”

You could tell him about that later, as right now you had better things to do.

His thrusts were slow and precise, really trying to get his point across of how much you meant to him. You were both moaning and groaning the entire time.

Leon hissed through his teeth, “So tight.”

While he ruined your insides, he gently and tenderly kissed you, and left hickies all over your neck and shoulders.

Your cunt tried to swallow him up at one point with your orgasm, and it drove Leon mad.

His moans were slowly getting louder once you came, and eventually he whipped his dick out, which made you whine, until he released all over your stomach and chest.

While he came down from his high, you scooped up some of the cum and tasted it. Not bad.

He snuggled up against you, and you both went under the covers to stay warm.

He pecked your forehead.

“Let’s do that again sometime.”

[mskenway97]

G/T in Transformers (2007)

I have wanted to do this for a long time, I am doing this analysis from a subjective point of view, if you want to add any comments ahead. I'll see if I do it with the rest of the movies or the series. But I wanted to highlight the g/t that are in the transformers saga. So I have decided to do it, for example with the first movie.

I'm going to do it in order from beginning to end.

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Well we start with the first encounter, we all know what Blackout is at the military base, all of them thinking it was an enemy's helicopter, when you see Blackout transform and attack without hesitation, not being affected by any of the shots. Here I start from the Decepticon point of view, we are insects for them, like little ants. No matter how much the humans try to stop him, it is of no use and you see the destruction that has occurred in the base. The first contact between Blackout and Epps, there is no doubt that he does not see him as a threat.

Now I'm going to move forward to the next first contact, the first time Sam sees Bumblebee. The different dynamics are noticeable compared to Blackout instead of destruction and destruction. Bumblebee was camouflaged, trying not to attract attention. Now look at the music, how Sam looks at Bumblebee. Surprise, fear and at the same time fascination.

Well, with scorponok, only a few come out of that disaster. Imagine the wildlife of Cybertron, we already know insecticons, predacons, maximals taking animal forms, dragons, prehistoric beings… Try to face one like this, a metallic scorpion three times the size of yours, it has the sand in its favor, a My first thought that comes to me is that he has made you his prey and that he is going to be playing with you. Luckily they had military help but if they hadn't…

The next scene with Barricade here is directly g/t fearplay in its purest form. When he transforms in front of Sam and the chase begins, no matter how hard he runs, Barricade was going to catch him. When Sam goes between the car and the robot, that scene blows your mind.

It is also how we see Bumblebee for the first time with the two humans in front, as I mentioned there is a difference between autobot and decepticon. While Barricade treated Sam like a bug, Bumblebee on the other hand has been defending Sam and Mikaela from Barricade. Also the point of view of the camera will show the great fight between two titans and the two little ones at their side fleeing for their lives. After the fight, you see that Bumblebee is calm and talking to Sam, the camera changes when you see the majesty of Bumblebee but you see that he is not going to do any harm.

Already the famous scene of arrival on Earth, this scene hits my biggest hypes of how each Autobot arrives. Optimus in an open field, jazz falling in a stadium, ratchet in a TV store and ironhide in a swimming pool. the jazz comparison on top of the building looking for its vehicle form, the best part is Ironhide when he falls into the pool and you see a little girl approach without any fear and ask him if he is the tooth fairy… That part seemed to me very tender! Some, including myself, would act more out of curiosity than fear, to be honest haha.

When they are all together in that alley, with Optimus transforming for the first time, you see how the camera shows him from head to toe and then you see the transformation of the rest. Imagine being Sam and Mikaela at that moment surrounded by enormous beings without knowing what is going to happen to you, you only know that Bumblebee didn't do anything to you… but what about the rest? When you see Optimus kneel in front of them, the face-to-face contact that occurs between them to see them closer, a different one between Optimus' head and Sam's head, simply fantastic.

I also find it very sweet that Optimus speaks calmly seeing that the two are slowly moving away from the presence. When he continues with the introductions of the rest of the autobots, the part of Ironhide showing that he shouldn't be messed with and Sam swallowing saliva, that's also very good. When he explains the story to them and everyone tells him that those glasses with the only hope focusing on all the autobots looking at Sam and Mikaela is one of the most imposing scenes. I would have acted like Mikaela you better have the glasses.

We arrive at the scene of the autobots in the Witwicky garden… What we see here is Sam trying to convince his father, how to give more pressure? Yes with impatient Optimus Prime lurking into your garden making Sam panic more. I think it's very good seeing how Optimus carefully passes the houses to the garden and you see Bumblbee right next to him looking at Sam making him panic again.

Already when Optimus accidentally destroys Sam's fountain. You see the big guy apologizing, on the other hand I see Sam scolding them as too cute.

The animals won't be spared from this either if Sam doesn't reason with Ironhide about Mojo getting involved there and the words he says, you have a plague of rodents. Remember when I mentioned at the beginning that there are differences in treatment. Ironhide is one of the exceptions where he doesn't see humans the same way as Bumblebee or Optimus. When the autbots start to recognize the area, seeing Bumblebee carefully approach the window is good.

Well for me one of my favorite scenes comes, Mikaela is going to help me by entering with the help of Optimus's servo, when I saw that part I felt a certain tingling that I would like to be you instead of her haha. in such a delicate way that she makes it simply sublime.

And the way he hides, when Optimus returns to the window again, accidentally stepping on the flowers, he reacts with an oops. Sam being nervous, I loved seeing Optimus calming him down as best he can.

Well, when Ratchet ends up colliding with the tension pole, creating an earthquake instantly, Ron's reaction to the earthquake was great on my part, telling Ironhide to join in. The house now completely without light. Solution you tell Ratchet to deploy more lights without suspicion. When the parents go to see what is happening, Optimus sees in the window that Ron was seconds away from catching him. If another earthquake created by the crash.

Another of the best scenes in the movie, how do you hide 5 robots that are bigger than a normal house? The way the 5 bots do it is unique. The smaller Bumblebee and Jazz fit perfectly underneath. Others can hide on one side of the house the case of Ratchet and Ironhide but Optimus how he hides… The most attached and far from the house and occupying a large part of it without destroying it by his body.

The thing is, I don't know how that worked, Ron would have looked elsewhere and would have caught them, especially Optimus.

When Ironhide say eliminate the parents and Optimus have to stop him. that dynamic between a kind giant and a giant who doesn't want to be bothered

The next part is another of my favorite parts, Sam and Mikaela involved in a secret sector of the government. How do you save them? Optimus's big foot stops the vehicle and rips off the roof without further ado. The scene is one of the best, that is, you see the state of panic of everyone in the vehicle while the roof falls.

Taking the children was a mistake. Reaction of Sector 7 taking out the weapons… 2 seconds later taken out of the hands without the possibility of defending themselves. Another of the camera movements showing how big the autobots are compared to humans and when it changes directly to Optimus with the simple act of saying get out of the car… and get out right now, that moment gave me chills.

As Simmons tries to reason with them, as if they were just combat machines, the interrogation telling Sam that he is braver having the aliens on his side and well, the Bumblebee scene, I was laughing my head off at that part, I'm not going to lie haha .

When Sector 7 notifies reinforcements, they see the autobots leave, leaving Optimus with Sam and Mikaela as he extends his servo and the two perfectly fit in his hand to fit on his shoulder. This whole scene sees Optimus being extremely careful with the helicopter, the street (which leaves some damage), without crushing any of the cars and managing to knock them out. Another sign that Optimus prime bayverse is a gentle giant who tries to minimize the damage he does and at the same time protects his companions from being the target.

Where can Optimus find a hiding place? Under a bridge, the bad thing is that it hinders him from moving, I also like how the camera focuses on Optimus's face and seeing how Sam is holding on and Mikaela on his helmet but unfortunately he goes and falls leaving both of them in the air , Optimus unable to do anything to catch them, I found it funny that he used his foot so that at least one of them could hold on.

Bumblebee is a cutie saving them at the last minute. In the next scene you see how they paralyze him and you see that he suffers damage. Sam would have at least tried to defend him even if it were impossible. Show that bond that had been formed between the two.

Also to the size of the objects, the glasses compared to Optimus's servo is also tiny.

The part where Bumblebee continues to be tortured even while carrying the dam. I return again to the comparison of buildings with autobots, it is still something splendid.

When Megatron or NBE1 (as they say XD) is revealed, he is like a giant in imbernation, the moment will come when he awakens and chaos is assured. Now the cube, if the bots are big the cube exceeds all expectations.

The box they use to create minibots catches my attention because of how many attempts they have made… I found the mini Nokia trying to defend itself adorable (yes, I saw it like that XD).

Starscream's first appearance did good honors with a martial turn, ending on the bridge where the humans were running out right now.

If I were Bumblebee, I would also act by targeting the enemies who have tortured me before. But he will still listen to Sam at all times, Sam calming everyone that he is not an enemy.

Already the change of allspark in a small cube see the change and the comparison with Bumblebee to see how small it is. The faces of the rest are priceless.

The awakening of Megatron would be the true terror of when a giant faces several little ones who have no chance, seeing everyone running and fleeing the area.

On the highway you see the two dynamics again on both sides while Bonecrusher destroys even a bus in his path, Optimus on the other hand tries not to damage the vehicles although he tries carefully, and the case that is formed on the highway when those two robots fight, it's scandalous.

When the boy and his mother see the fight between the two up close, it is appreciated… And the boy is so calm saying how cool it is hahaha.

In mission city, this is when I say that I see Ironhide's change regarding his treatment of humans, worrying about when Starscream comes to attack and move the humans away from the missile's impact zone, using a truck as a shield.

When the missile hits, Bumblebee's legs are destroyed. Seeing that Sam tries to calm him down and help him however he can. The phrase "I won't leave you here" and Bumblebee giving him the allspark.

This interaction is so sweet so g/t it shows the pure concern of the little one to the big one.

Now if we talk about Ironhide's martial turn and that human in the middle, you're really freaked out. How they try to avoid Jazz when he is thrown against a building.

When Megatron appears on stage, all the autobots shout retreat to the humans. Taking Jazz with him for you know compared to the bots, Jazz is very small compared to Megatron.

When the rest of the Decepticons arrive: Devastator and Blackout, Lennox's reaction is totally normal, it is impossible to be able to face something like that.

This is when I see Ironhide change completely willing to protect Sam no matter what the cost. As does Ratchet seeing that he has some appreciation for the boy. Instantly protecting you from all attacks coming from the enemy.

I haven't forgotten Mikaela making every possible effort to help Bumblebee to get him out of there no matter what.

Let's not talk about the appearance of Optimus and Megatron flying over buildings and just going through a building.

Here again the differences while Megatron sees them that they do not deserve to live, Optimus I see them from the opposite side, as Megatro prepares to shoot see the perspective from a human's point of view, terrifying and at the same time amazing, see how Optimus flies a building and almost falling on top of some humans.

Watch as Sam simply runs into the building while he is escorted by Ironhide and Ratchet. Until Starscream comes to interrupt the passage.

Now comes one of the parts that is completely g/t fearplay. You have the most powerful item in your world… Running to the objective and a tyrant leader is going after you no matter what is on the way. Imagine that feeling that Sam must have while Megatron does not stop chasing him, even when he is in a building trying to break the floor to reach him.

There is not only a bond between Sam and Bumblebee. the moment Mikaela and Bumblebee going to Devastor. Her driving and Bumblebee shooting is just endearing and very good.

When Sam reaches the roof, her help is no longer useful. Seeing Optimus run towards him to help him.

See on the other hand Megatron leaving Sam on the edge of the abyss, giving him the option of letting him live as a pet… Seeing how Sam is stubborn and does not accept. This scene is quite fun for those who like challenges haha.

He ends up falling and in the hands of Optimus again. Seriously, that bot has to have something to do with holding something on his servos. Protecting him from the fall as he can.

Again the double difference between autobots and decepticons. While Optimus hasn't taken his hand off of him throughout the fall to protect Sam, we see that Megatron on the other hand says that a human is disgusting and throws him away.

Watching the moment of no sacrifice no victory and seeing how Sam and Optimus' bond deepens looks just beautiful.

Already Lennox's revenge when he shoots Blackout from below… finally giving him the victory of seeing that robot no longer rise.

Never trust Jet, you could be hidden starscream, the simple fact of how he plays with them and destroys them, you freak out.

When everyone is paralyzed and you see Megatron go towards Sam so that Optimus can trip him, the camera there seemed wonderful to me.

See how Megatron approaches to retrieve the cube, finishing off Sam and begging him to put allspark in his chest. See how Sam deals with doing that but with Megatron. As Optimus approaches Megatro and sees Sam right next to him and then kneels and says that he is in debt to him.

Already seeing all the bots together with the humans, looking at poor Jazz and Optimus thanking everyone for the help. See how Bumblebee and Sam already have a link between them.

It is also curious to see how they get rid of the fallen Decepticons with several helicopters and humans throwing the parts into the sea.

Optimus' speeches show how Ironhide also has something with Lennox. Everyone transforming except him to see the comparison with the sunset, wonderful.

I think that's all I've been able to see and comment on, if you want to add a note or something I'm missing, I'll be happy to accept it ^^.

[melaclintbartoncorner]

What’s your favorite Clintasha trope? What are some of your headcanons for our beloved duo?

Hey my beloved darling! 😘

Thank you for your ask!

Tropes I absolutely adore with these two are: Coworkers to lovers, alternative universes ( for example Tattooartist meets Barista), I adore soulmates tropes, any Fics that fix the damn MCU timeline (I love you, @sneakronicity who wrote us "Until I see you again , Also Fuck you Joss Weasel). a good medieval alternative with queens and knights (just some good fantasy AUs), I am a sucker for family stories so Clintasha retiring and raising kids on the farm, some good romantic and without violence smut is always welcome. These are the Highlights that I can think of now.

Let's talk about head canons:

Clint and Nat are the perfect example of Ying and Yang, Clint is that openminded golden retriever that will take everyone who needs help in with open arms, Nat is that black cat that is dismissive at first an very reserved, but together they complete each other. Clint has a lot of patience with her and loves her unconditionally, what Nat doesn't really understands, but as soon she let's her walls down, but only for Clint, she is completely and without a fault devoured to him, I would even go that far to say she is very protective over him, because she knows he has some inner wounds that need to heal. So she does everything possible to make him heal, the same way he has done for her. They protect each other at all times, they would even turn against the Avengers to protect each other.

In my head they have 3 way of sex: The hot in the moment against the wall sex, that is full of hunger and lust especially when both haven't be together for a time; the light quickie in the morning to start their day in a relaxed fashion and the tender, slow, full of love and appreciation lovemaking that breaks them apart and proves their bond over and over again.

Clint loves Nat's red hair and is quite annoyed when she has to dye it blond for various missions. He adores her eyes & body and loves to touch and kiss every inch of her will treating her like a goddess.

On the other hand Nat loves when Clint has a bit longer hair so she has something to hold on ;), she is obsessed with his archery arms but especially these magical hands that makes her fall apart every time, He absolutely know what he is doing, he never misses after all ;).

After every mission, massages and bathing together are in order. Especially Nat loves to massage her hawk, that gives her a reason to really examine Clint's body in all its glory.

And of course they are a perfect team in the field, they basically don't even need to talk but communicate over their abilities and their body language. The Avengers are surprised every time when joint missions are happening and that ace team is shining bright.

In my head the only reason Clint uses hearing aids is to hear Nat's voice. The first moments without hearing her voice made him mental, he felt he was suffocating and felt his world just exploded. He need to hear her voice to survive, same as air to breath. Both know ASL, so they can communicate when Clint needs his calm time when overstimulated with the hearing aids and it's an advantage to gossip about people without them knowing. Over the years they invented a whole new signing language that's just for them, because the team catches up and in my head everyone is capable of signing, so they needed a new way to be private and intimate with each other.

For me they retire together on Clint's farm and will live there till the end of their looooong lifes and together in their arms in their bed. Titanic Style just less dramatic. 😂

The team visits every month they always have an amazing barbecue together and basically a whole week of festivities sponsored by Tony of course. Do they have kids? In some of my head yes (A girl and a boy), in the other not to honour the Red Room Story of Nat. Depends on my mood tbh.

If you need more just ask ahead. Now my head is empty but happy.

I love you and thank you for your friendship and companionship. 😘😘

🏹🕷️💜❤️