#i’d much prefer my brain just stops being a little shit

[shoutsindwarvish]

having ocd is dumb

when i told my therapist about my sexual intrusive thoughts back in july, i felt like a disgusting human being and a great deal of shame. she did not blink and gave me tips to stop “compulsing” and face them head-on (basically a form of exposure therapy) and it sucked so bad but i got them fully under control within a month.

i’d barely even noticed them for months but they’ve started getting louder and more insistent again with a slightly different flavor, this time the idea that i’ll actually act on them. i know i will not. i do not believe the thoughts, i have no identification with the thoughts, and i know full well that the brain is bringing it up specifically because it goes against my values and it’s the equivalent of a child showing me a gross bug they found to see my reaction. as of now, i am not in full spiral and am actively fighting the desire to argue with or avoid them and to instead just look straight at them and sit with them…to varying degrees of success.

i’m mostly just exasperated. it feels like i have an obnoxious younger sibling in my head trying to rile me up and telling them to shut up only encourages them that they’re on the right track and it’s like

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K+

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat

A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 

And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.

The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.

The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 

You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.

While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.

As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.

And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 

Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.

“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.

“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”

You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.

“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.

“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.

“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.

“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.

“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.

The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 

The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.

You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.

When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.

“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.

“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.

“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”

“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.

“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.

“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.

“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.

“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 

“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”

“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…

He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 

During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.

The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 

Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.

There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 

That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.

Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.

Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 

“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.

“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.

“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.

“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.

After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.

Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 

“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.

“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.

“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.

He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.

Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.

“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”

Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.

The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.

It was completely by accident, but no less true. 

Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.

“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”

Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”

You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.

“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.

“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.

The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.

Clark wanted to wait- 

No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 

Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 

At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.

He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 

How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 

“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.

“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”

“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”

“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”

“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.

As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.

Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.

“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.

You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.

“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.

“Unicorn is my safe word.”

“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.

“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 

You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.

“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”

You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 

As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.

“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.

“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.

You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.

With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.

Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 

When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.

“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”

That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 

“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 

When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.

“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 

The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.

When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 

Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.

You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.

“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.

“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.

Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.

Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”

The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.

Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 

A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.

Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.

This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 

He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.

A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz  😁 Also if you want to be removed from tags, lemme know!

[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[alastorsbookie10228]

Heyoo!! I heard you were looking for more Hazbin requests and I’d love to contribute if that’s okay😊 If possible, i’d love to see Angel Dust x gn!reader imagine (or headcanons, whichever u prefer!) where reader gets Angel hooked on TikTok and they love practicing different dance routines and trends together, but of course, Angel is annoyingly too good at it🙄, acting like the cocky little shit that he is🫶🏼 So to humble him😌, reader decides to challenge him to a little dance-off and they low-key act all flirty and get up caught up in the heat of the moment the whole time😏🔥😘

(Bonus: Husk gets roped into being the judge and is just done with their shit😭)

Sorry if this is incredibly long!! My brain went wild and this is what came from it💀 Anyway, love your writing so far and would love to see more! Take all the time you need, thank you!!😊❤️

omg stop this is amazing!

The ultimate dance-off

"toots, did ya see Tyla's new dance?!" Angel yelled, walking into the room.

you look up from your own phone and nod. "yeah, i've seen it. why?"

Angel looked at you and smirked. oh boy.

30 minutes later, and you were on your feet, trying to do the dance to 'Water'. needless to say, you were bad. but Angel was worse.

"hey, pussycat!" Angel yelled.

"the fuck do you want?" Husk responded, clearly irritated.

"Be a babe and judge our dance!" Angel said, and you facepalmed.

Jesus...why?

you and Angel both do the dance and look at Husk when you're done.

"well? what'd ya think?" Angel said.

"...one. you get a one" Husk said, turning around to drink his booze.

"one?! out of ten?" Angel said, throwing up his upper set of arms.

"no. one out of one thousand" Husk said, smirking to himself as Angel threw a hissy fit.

sorry if this is bad, i couldn't really come up with much! anyway, i hope you enjoy it!

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 8

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

This cannot be happening, you mentally groaned with your face buried in your hands. You had been flirting with Max all night! So how was it that Trevor the PA was the one sleeping naked on your floor? 

You looked at your clock. Shit. You needed to be at the studio in twenty minutes. Kneeling on the edge of your bed, you reached out and poked him like you were checking to see if an animal was alive or dead. “Trevor?” you said quietly. When he didn’t move, you rolled your eyes and quickly got dressed, desperately trying to ignore your pounding head and queasy stomach. Once you were dressed, you looked for your phone so you could order him a cab. It, like Trevor, was face down on the floor, and it, like Trevor, was unresponsive, and your charger was nowhere to be found. Damn it. With an aggravated sigh, you decided to try waking Trevor again.

“Treeeeevooooor,” you called in a singsong voice as you shook him hard. 

He raised his head looking completely disoriented, a slick of drool smeared across his cheek. “Huh?”

You picked up his clothes that were scattered around the floor and tossed them at him. “Get dressed. I was going to order a cab for you, but my phone’s dead. You’ll have to get one yourself.”

“Well, good morning to you too,” he replied in a sleepy voice as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Look, I know this is going to sound completely cliched, but last night was a huge, very drunken mistake, and I would very much like to forget it ever happened and just go back to being work colleagues, yeah?”

He yawned and stretched. “Whatever you say, boss,” he agreed casually. You winced. You’d forgotten about the fact that since you were a Head of Department, you were technically Trevor’s superior. Nice one, Y/n, you thought to yourself, burying your face in your hands. Any other astonishingly stupid decisions from last night that I should know about? You thought about the last time you’d gotten this drunk: how you had drunk dialed your ex at 3 a.m. and unsuccessfully propositioned him for ‘one last night with the best shag he was ever going to have.’ You desperately hoped that your phone had died before you’d had a chance to make any ill advised calls this time.

After Trevor got dressed, you sent him on his way, all the while racking your brain for why he, of all people, was the one who came home with you last night. You thought that if it would have been anyone it would have been Max or Tom. Tom would have been your preference, of course, but you assumed he had been preoccupied with Tracy. You started to wonder if they had slept together, but you stopped yourself. It was none of your business what happened between them last night. Besides, you had your own shit to deal with.

…

When you arrived at work, you found Tom waiting outside your trailer. He looked a little worse for wear as well. 

“Hey,” he said sheepishly. “I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night and for the—“

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” you interrupted, waving away his concern. “I think a lot of us made some poor decisions last night, so I think it’s best we just move on.”

A relieved smile spread across Tom’s face as he let out a deep breath. “I completely agree.”

“Good. Now hug me before I have to work through the worst hangover I’ve ever had.”

He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head and rubbing his hand up and down your back. “We’ll suffer through the day together.”

As you and Tom walked into the trailer, you both groaned and squinted at the bright lights, while Kaitlyn’s cheery voice rang painfully through your ears. 

“Well hello there! I’d say I’m surprised either of you made it in today, but since you both are such workaholics I’m pretty sure the only way either of you would call in is if you were on your death beds!”

“I feel like death,” you groaned. “Does that count?��

Kaitlyn laughed and you and Tom both winced.

“Kaitlyn, darling, do you think you could lower the volume just a bit,” Tom asked with as much politeness as he could muster as he massaged his temple.

“Oh, sorry!” she replied in a hushed tone that was somehow still quite loud.

As you and Kaitlyn began working on Tom’s hair and makeup, you noticed Kaitlyn sniffing the air. You looked at her quizzically. “What?”

She leaned close to you and smelled your hair, causing you to lean away and look at her like she was crazy. “Did you smoke last night?” she asked incredulously.

“Ugh,” you responded with mild disgust. “When I went to go find this one last night, I found him smoking in the alley, but I didn’t partake.”

Tom cleared his throat awkwardly. “Actually…” 

“No…” you gasped as your face dropped and you looked at Tom in disbelief. He silently answered with an apologetic grimace, seemingly bracing himself for your reaction. “Noooo!” you moaned before bringing a strand of your hair to your nose and taking a big whiff. The overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke filled your nostrils and suddenly you were no longer able to fight the nausea that had been threatening to overtake your stomach since you woke up. Eyes wide, you rushed over to the rubbish bin and heaved into it. 

“I tried to stop you last night,” Tom said as you gathered yourself back up and Kaitlyn handed you a mint. “But you literally stole it out of my mouth and said ‘Drunk me likes to be naughty and does what she wants.’”

“Well next time, kindly tell drunk me to piss off and go home,” you replied while haphazardly putting your hair up in a messy bun. 

Tom chuckled and opened his mouth to reply when his smile suddenly disappeared as he stared at your neck. 

“Whoa, is that a hickey I see?” Kaitlyn teased in mock scandalization.

“What??” You ran to the mirror to examine yourself more closely. Sure enough, there was a purple, mouth-shaped bruise on the side of your neck, previously hidden by your hair. “Oh god…” 

You were mortified. There had been a time or two when you’d shown up to work with a similar mark from Tom that you hadn’t had time to cover with makeup, but you really didn’t mind too much because only you and he knew where it came from; like a dirty little secret. But last night nearly everyone in the cast and crew saw you flirting with Max most of the night, and you were willing to bet at least a few of them saw you leave with Trevor. 

Kaitlyn smirked from behind you. “You want to tell us about the rest of your night last night?”

“I don’t think now is an appropriate time for this conversation,” Tom interjected, his demeanor much more serious than it was a moment ago. You found it odd, but you were grateful for the excuse not to talk about last night.

“I agree,” you told Kaitlyn. “We ought to get cracking so we can get this day over with.”

It took a bit longer than usual to do Tom’s hair and makeup that morning, not only because you were feeling so sluggish, but you also had to hide the dark circles under Tom’s eyes. That being said, you managed to get it done without your stomach revolting again, which you considered a triumph in itself. Tom was abnormally quiet the whole time, and as soon as you were done, Tom left with a curt “thanks,” without even looking at you. 

“What’s with him today?” Kaitlyn wondered aloud as she began cleaning up.

“Probably just hungover,” you replied, shrugging. You only half believed yourself though. You still couldn’t help the feeling that something more was going on with him.

“Maybe it’s got to do with Tracy,” Kaitlyn suggested excitedly.

Fuck. You forgot about her. “If it is, he’s a big boy and he can deal with his girl problems himself.”

“But aren’t you even a little curious about what happened with them last night? I thought you two were like best friends now or something.”

“Kait, can we just drop the subject of last night?” you pleaded exasperatedly.

Kaitlyn looked taken aback. “Wow. You guys are no fun when you’re hungover.”

“Have you ever had a hangover before?” you asked.

“Nope! Not one!” she replied proudly. 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you haven’t.” Shaking your head, you began packing your kit for set, when absentmindedly, you took out your phone to look at the time. The perpetual black screen reminded you it was dead. “Kait, can I borrow your phone charger? I couldn’t find mine this morning and my phone is completely dead.”

“Sure,” she happily agreed. “But you might have to leave it here to charge.”

You shrugged. “That’s alright. I should be fine without it for a while.”

When you arrived on set, you nervously looked around to see if Max or Trevor were there, and to your relief, you didn’t see them, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. This was exactly the reason for the old adage “don’t screw the crew,” a saying you lived by religiously until this particular production began. You blamed the irritatingly gorgeous man currently brooding over his script. He started it.

After several takes of the first scene of the day, makeup was called in for a touch up.

“How are you holding up there, tiger?” you asked playfully as you blotted Tom’s forehead.

He kept his eyes to the ground. “Fine,” he replied monotonously. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Well, I haven’t had another urge to find the nearest bin, so that’s an improvement,” you said, chuckling. “Look up for me, please.” You went to touch up his under eyes and his gaze quickly traveled from the floor to the ceiling without so much as a passing glance at you. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because a couple of hours ago you were hugging me, and now you won’t even look at me.”

“You’ve literally just told me to look up.” He was beginning to sound irritated.

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, actually. Look, I have a terrible headache and I’m just trying to get through the day, okay?”

“Understood,” you snipped.

Over the next few hours, anytime Tom needed a touch up, there was a tense silence between the two of you. It did not go unnoticed by you, however, that when Tracy stepped in to repair a shirt button he’d popped, he had no problem looking at her and was even able to muster a smile and a chuckle here and there. Anger began to bubble up in your chest as you watched them, realizing that the only thing that seemed to be bothering him was you, and instead of talking to you about it like a mature adult, he was moping and using his hangover as a stupid excuse. Git, you thought as you rolled your eyes. 

Just when you thought you couldn’t get any more irritated, however, as Tracy walked away, Tom sighed and absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the detailed continuity needed for the next shot. 

“Oi! Are you fucking kidding me, Hiddleston?” You were up out of your chair and storming towards Tom before the director could even call for hair and makeup.

“Shit,” Tom swore, realizing what he’d done almost immediately. “Sorry!” 

“I told you not to touch your hair while we shoot this scene,” you hissed at him as you meticulously restyled his locks to look as close to what they looked like before. Kaitlyn, who was holding up the continuity picture for you on her phone, was looking at Tom as if to say, ‘you’ve done it now.’

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I’m not at my best today. It’s this–”

“Headache?” you interrupted him. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. Well, the rest of us are working our asses off regardless of how much we drank last night or what sort of distractions are walking around in a pencil skirt.” You glanced at Tracy and then back at Tom who looked thoroughly offended. 

“This has nothing to do with Tracy.”

“Then what is it, Tom?” you asked impatiently. “Because I don’t think a headache is the reason you can hardly stand to be near me today.”

He sighed. “Can we not talk about this in the middle of shooting?” 

“Fine. I’m finished anyway.” You stalked back to your chair with Kaitlyn at your heels. 

“You alright, boss?” Kaitlyn asked warily.

“Just peachy,” you huffed as you flopped down in your seat. “Listen, how would you feel about covering Tom on your own for the remainder of the day while I take Warren.”

Kaitlyn looked at you in shock. “Oh wow! Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t confident you could do it, and honestly, I could use a break from his melodramatics today.” 

“Well, I’m honored,” Kaitlyn said proudly.

You were usually pretty hands-off with Warren’s hair and make up because he hardly needed it for his role. He had a tight fade haircut that needed little to no maintenance and his complexion was exactly what the director wanted for his character.  

At the next call for make up, you went over to Warren to mist him with water to look like sweat.

“Having a lover’s spat, I see,” he teased you.

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically. “Tom’s just being weird today, and it only seems to be around me. Do you know anything about that?”

“He does seem a bit quiet, but I just assumed he was still recovering from last night. Speaking of which, is that hickey from that guy Max?”

“I…” you hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit the truth. “I don’t think so…”

“What is that supposed to mean? You two were flirting all night!”

“Well, I don’t exactly remember everything that happened last night, but Max wasn’t the one in my bedroom when I woke up this morning.”

“What??” Warren said a little too loudly, making several people turn their heads, including Tom, who furrowed his brow in confusion before turning back to Kaitlyn.

“Sshhh!” you quickly hushed him. “I don’t need everyone in the studio to know about this!”

“Sorry,” he apologized, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But then who the bloody hell did you sleep with last night.” 

“That is a secret I’m hoping to keep for as long as possible.”

“Oh come on,” he pleaded. “You can tell me! I promise I won’t tell a soul.” 

“Fine. But you swear you won’t judge me?”

He raised his right hand while putting his left over his heart as if he was swearing an oath. “Never.” 

“Okay..” You took a deep breath. “It was Trevor.”

“Trevor the PA??” Once again Warren raised his voice to full volume, causing people once again to look in your direction. 

“Yeah, mate?” called Trevor, peeking his head out from behind the set wall. 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Nothing!” Warren called to Trevor. “Nevermind!” He gave you a nervous, apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, but how the fuck did you end up sleeping with him?”

“I have no fucking clue! I was plastered!” 

He laughed. “You know, you are a lot more fun than I thought you were!”

“Fun is not the word I would use to describe my choices last night,” you grumbled.

“Cheer up, love. Who knows, maybe Trevor’s the one?”

“You’re funny,” you told him sarcastically, sneaking him a rude gesture as you walked back to your chair.

While the director talked to the actors, you and Kaitlyn sat down next to each other and she leaned toward you to whisper in your ear. “So you’ll talk to Warren about your sexcapades last night, but not me?”

“There were no ‘sexcapades,’” you contested. “And how do you know that’s what we were talking about?”

“I can only assume that’s why you two were talking about Trevor,” she said, as if it was obvious.

You stared at her, perplexed. “You knew I slept with Trevor?”

“Well, I knew you left the club with Trevor– and without saying goodbye, I might add.”

Your face lit up in realization. “So you remember everything that happened last night?”

“Of course I do! And you would know that if you hadn’t avoided the subject earlier!”

You rubbed your face with both hands. “Sorry! I wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that I blacked out and slept with someone who thinks Greta Gerwig is ‘that chick that’s trying to save the polar bears.’”

“Okay, that’s fair, but would you rather have slept with Max?”

“Honestly, no. I didn’t really want to sleep with anyone. I just wanted to flirt a little and have a good time!”

“I mean, you certainly seemed like you were having a good time.”

“I know I may regret this, but will you please tell me what happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I remember finding Tom smoking in the alley, but obviously I didn’t remember smoking with him, so let’s start there.”

“Well, I don’t know what you two talked about out there, but I do know you were miffed about something. When you came back inside, you went straight to the bar and ordered two shots before angrily going back to the dance floor and dancing with Max. After a while of that, you went to use the loo and when you came back you were even more angry for some reason. So, you took yet another shot, and by the time you went back to the dance floor again, Max was dancing with someone else, so you looked around, grabbed Trevor, and left.

As Kaitlyn retold the events of the previous night, fragments of your forgotten memories started to resurface: sloppily grinding on Max, occasionally looking over at Tracy putting her hands all over Tom, grinding harder against Max in retaliation, telling Max you had to use the ladies’ room and him calling you a tease after he tried to come with you and you declined. All of this was no surprise to you until you tried to remember what had happened between then and when you left with Trevor. Finally, you were able to conjure up the missing piece of the puzzle: the blurry yet unmistakable image of walking into the loo to find Tom and Tracy making out in one of the stalls. That and the subsequent shot of tequila must have been what pushed you to your colossally poor decision to fuck the nearest available guy in the club. 

“Does any of this ring any bells?” Kaitlyn asked.

“Unfortunately,” you groaned, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees and massaging your forehead with the heels of your hands. 

“Do you remember what happened in the toilets to make you so angry?”

“Nope,” you lied. You lifted your head to look at her. “Regardless, I’d prefer if we never mentioned any of this ever again, agreed?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. One question though…”

“If it has anything to do with sex with Trevor I will punch you in the tit.”

“Right then. Nevermind.”

…

It was ten o’clock at night by the time filming had wrapped for the day, and you and Tom had successfully avoided each other for several hours. By then your hangover had subsided, but your irritation with Tom had only grown. As you cleaned and prepped your trailer for the next day, you ruminated over what you possibly could have done to piss him off, and then you’d remind yourself that you were being silly– that he was the one acting like a child. You were pinning up continuity notes and photos on the wall when you heard a knock at your door.

“Y/n?” you heard Tom’s voice say as he stepped into your trailer. The sound of the door shutting behind him came soon after, as well as the click of the lock.

You kept your eyes on the task in front of you as he walked up behind you. “Funny. I don’t remember saying you could come in.”

“I don’t remember asking,” he teased, his breath tickling your ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist while you continued to work, pretending that his touch wasn’t making you wet already.

“Oh, are we suddenly all chummy again? I guess I didn’t get the memo.” 

He traced the tip of his nose along the length of your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Can I ask why you were pouting like a child today, or are you going to feed me the same hangover bullshit like you did before?”

He sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t bring myself to look at that infuriating bruise on your neck.” 

“What?” You stopped what you were doing and brought your hand to your neck, running your fingers over the afflicted area. “Why? You’ve seen me with hickies before.”

“Yeah, from me,” he mumbled against the opposite side of your neck as he began placing kisses over the untarnished skin. It was getting increasingly hard to focus.

“So you can play with other toys, but no one else is allowed to play with me?”

His hand glided down your stomach and into your leggings, cupping your needy sex over the damp fabric of your panties. “Tracy was my attempt to distract myself from you.”

Your eyes fell closed as his fingers began to stroke your clothed core. “And did it work?”

“No,” he growled before latching his lips and sucking hard on the precise spot only he knew made you absolutely gush with arousal. A moan escaped your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing, but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He slipped his fingers inside your now ruined panties and began rubbing light circles over your clit. Gasping, you keened into his touch while he kissed and sucked along your jugular vein. Before long, he moved his attention to the other side of your neck. He tsked at the sight of the mark another man had left on you. “Well, I’m pleased to know that he doesn’t know your weak spots like I do,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. It was true that Trevor somehow managed to pick the least sensitive area of your entire neck. However, that didn’t stop Tom from sinking his teeth into the very same spot in an obvious attempt to cover Trevors mark with his own. At the very same time, he added pressure to your swollen clit. The mix of pain and pleasure was the perfect combination to send you over the edge. 

“Fuck, Tom!” you moaned, your climax making your legs shake beneath you. As you came down from your high he retracted his hand from between your legs and released your neck with a dark chuckle. You spun around and grabbed his face, crashing your lips against his. While you plunged your tongue into his mouth your hand slid down his torso to his groin, feeling the solid column of flesh straining against his slacks. You gave it a firm squeeze, causing him to grunt against your lips. Taking that as your cue, you undid his belt and the fly of his trousers. As soon as his erection was freed, he pulled you toward the vanity and spun you around once more to face the mirror. You braced yourself on the counter, leaning forward onto your forearms while Tom rolled a condom over his throbbing cock. Then he tugged your bottoms down to your thighs, giving him just enough access to your pussy. Through the mirror you could see him smirk at the sight of your ass, as if he was looking at a prized possession. It sent more heat to your center as you clenched around nothing. His piercing blue eyes darted up to you through the mirror as his smirk widened to a smile. You gazed back at him with pleading eyes before he finally lined up with your entrance and sheathed himself completely inside you. You gasped, your features contorting in pleasure. He leaned forward and grabbed the counter on either side of you, kissing your shoulder while your dripping channel stretched around him. As he began to roll his hips, the two of you locked eyes in the mirror and never strayed as he gradually thrusted faster and harder. “Oh god! Yes baby! Harder!” You brought one hand up to brace yourself against the mirror as Tom pounded into you, panting and groaning in your ear. “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” you cried, your cunt clenching hard around his length. 

“Oh, Y/n, that’s it, sweetheart! Shit, I’m cumming!” You watched as he finally broke his gaze, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You moaned as you felt his cock pulse inside you until it was finally spent. 

Tom placed a light kiss on the back of your neck before standing up and pulling out of you. Breathing heavily, you let your hand, slick with sweat, slide down the mirror with a drawn out squeak, leaving behind a Titanic-esque hand print in its wake. Despite your legs feeling like jelly, you slowly stood up and pulled your pants back up while Tom tucked himself back into his trousers and flopped down in the makeup chair. You leaned back against the counter, looking down at him with your arms folded.

He looked back at you suspiciously. “What?”

“All that over a hickey,” you teased, shaking your head.

“So? You fucked Trevor just because you caught Tracy and I snogging,” he said with a smug look on his face.

Your mouth fell open. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Kaitlyn told me about Trevor before she left and the rest was just a guess. One which you just confirmed for me.”

“Oh my god, I am going to kill her!” 

“Darling, relax. We both got a little bit jealous, and quite a bit drunk, and did things we’re not proud of. Now everything is out in the open and we can move on, yeah?” 

You pursed your lips and glared at him. 

He sighed. “Come here.” He gestured for you to join him in the chair but you didn’t move. “Come here, you silly little thing,” he urged you again, chuckling at your stubbornness. You rolled your eyes and gave in, climbing into his lap and straddling him. He placed one hand on your waist and the other against your cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t actually sleep with Tracy.” 

“Wait, what?”

“My memory was a bit lacking this morning, but I asked Tracy on set today and she told me that we didn’t do anything more than snog. I was relieved, actually.”

You were also relieved, that is until you realized that it meant you slept with Trevor over nothing. “Ugh, I think that actually makes me feel worse.” You hid your face in the crook of his neck and groaned. 

Tom chuckled as he rubbed your back and placed a kiss on your temple. “What do you say we head back to mine and forget about the last twenty four hours?”

“Yes please,” you mumbled against his skin before reluctantly climbing off of him. He stood up after you and made his way toward the door while you gathered your things. “I’ll be there in a second. I totally forgot my phone was charging here all day. It died at some point last night so I haven’t been able to check any of my messages or anything.” 

Tom stopped dead in his tracks. “So you haven’t gotten to read any texts from last night?” 

“No, why?” You unplugged the device from the charger and your screen lit up, revealing all of your missed notifications. “Oh shit! I have like eight messages from you.” 

Tom turned and looked at you with panic in his eyes. As he watched you open your texts, he reached his arms out in front of him with his palms facing you and walked slowly toward you. “Y/n, listen, I was blackout drunk last night. Remember how I said we both did things we aren’t proud of?”

You hardly heard him over the sound of your raging pulse beating in your ears as you read his messages.

You looked up from your phone and glared at him. Your blood was boiling. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry…”

“‘Fuck the entire crew for all I care?’ ‘Lascivious little games?’” Your voice was low and shaky as you quoted his messages back to him in shock. “You ignored me all day over a fucking hickey, making me feel like I’d done something wrong, when you knew you’d sent me these…”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t mean any–”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped. This time it was you who couldn’t look at him. “Get out.”

Tom took another cautious step toward you, “Please, listen, I–”

“I said get out, Tom.”

He nodded in defeat as he turned away and left.

Taglist: @the-princess-of-loki, @kikster606, @princess-ofthe-pages,

@chronicallybubbly, @darcylikesloki

[blessedbucky]

Spoilers for the Suguru ending of my "choose your own ending" story! This is a special treat since Tumblr has helped get the story up to almost 900 hits! I'm so grateful for you all that I'm dishing out some porn! I might post Satoru and Nanami, if anyone is interested. Also, it's Suguru's birthday and he deserves a happy fucking ending, damn it!

warnings: it's porn, canon suguru so he's got his cult, lil' bit of self-consciousness while a plus-size girlie rides it, breeding kink (is it truly a taylor fic if that's not in there), suguru getting off on his normally chill waifu getting jealous

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Seriously?! What’s gotten into you?!”

“Your dick, if you’re amendable to that, my lord husband.” The title is something you’ve never used with him before. You feel his dick twitch in his pants, so he obviously likes it. “Then, your come. I’d really like lots of that.” You stretch out, playing with the belt of your fancy yukata but not completely tugging it free yet. You’re feeling a little high off seeing him so flustered and red. “Can I have some now?”

Suguru sputters, “Here?!”

“What’s got you acting like such a virgin? Haven’t we done nastier shit?”

He scrubs a hand across his face, growling in frustration. “It’s not about the act. It’s the location. This is where I meet with all the monkeys that follow me. I’m already going to struggle to keep a straight face as it is, hearing you talk like that.” And yet…the hands that he’d put on your thick thighs to support you slowly inch up. “I have an image that I have to maintain when I’m here. Me daydreaming about all the come that’ll be dripping out of you on this very floor won’t exactly help with that.”

“Pick a different room, then.” You’re pouting, you know. Then, because you can be just as manipulative as him, you offer, “I can ride you.” You finally tug the belt of your yukata away. It loosens, not completely falling away, but the front of it pops open enough to give a tantalizing view of the valley of your breasts. “Suguru,” you whine playfully. You think you can physically see his brain stuttering to a stop, melting, and just straight up leaking out of his ears. “My pussy feels really empty right now. Aren’t you going to help me with that?”

“You are the fucking worst,” Suguru snarls before he’s ripping at your yukata.

You have to admit that this position isn’t exactly a favorite. It’s being done with Suguru, and that simple fact alone means that you love any position. And while you’re admitting things, this is one of the best for getting deep. Depth is a craving of yours, easier to handle than underused nerves firing off. So, seriously, you’re not complaining. There are some other positions that you prefer more, is all.

But Suguru fucking loves it.

You know why. He’s told you as much. It puts you and the body that he adores so much on full display. These days, you are…a little bit better about accepting your body. You can’t hate it as much anymore. That said, you think you’re allowed to feel awkward when it’s just…jiggling so much. There’s no different way to position yourself, no way to somewhat hide it—every move makes every single thing jiggle.

But…

Fuck it.

You’ll put on a show.

Tilting back, you reach around to brace yourself on his knees. The place where you two are connected is clear, his thick cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy. His hands are out of reach now, so you pick up where he left off with one of yours, pinching at your nipple. It’s harder to move fast this way, but you’re grinding down, trying to get him deeper, deeper, deeper. All your muscles are burning, trying to hold and lift yourself up enough to slam back down.

That familiar heat is building in your gut. If you fall over the edge right now, he’s sure to follow right after. “I—ah!” Words, words, words. “Ugh, why are you so sexy, Suguru?” You slam down on him, body rippling all over. If you move any more, you are going to lose this train of thought. “You drive me nuts. Just make me forget everything. I needed to tell you that I got so busy that I forgot to take it yesterday and today.” You huff. “It probably won’t take, but…if you don’t want to take the risk…just…just pull out, okay?”

Suguru barks out a hoarse laugh. “And again, I say, you’re really just the fucking worst.” He’s reaching out, gripping your wrists, hauling you down so your chests thump together. “Do you know what a menace you’ve been today, hmm?” You’re cradled against him while he rolls over to get you on your back. “Greeting me at the door like that—like my perfect little wife. The way you terrorized that woman. What was it, my love? Hmm? It wasn’t only the tea, I know. Did she look at me the wrong way? You looked like you wanted to claw her eyes out.”

“Don’t use the past tense—ah!” This is your favorite way to do it. To have his massive body blanketing yours, blocking out the entire world. “I actually thought about slipping some poison in her stupid fucking tea.” That feral thing inside him is awake now, his own eyes crazed as he tries to mark out a spot inside your body for himself.

Suguru’s breath is hot on the shell of your ear. “You have tested my patience and restraint today. Doing all you’ve done like you didn’t plan on seducing me. You beg me so beautifully for my seed and now you want me to think twice?” You dig your nails in the meat of his ass and lock your ankles around his, your body desperate to keep him inside you. Every snap of his hips makes you cry out. “You’ll get it. You’ll get as much as I can stuff in this lovely pussy.”

“Please, please, please—”

Suguru’s hand snakes up, draping loosely around your throat. “You better not spill a fucking drop,” he warns huskily. “Or else you’ll be the one licking it up off the floor. I won’t take the chance of some filthy monkey prostrating themselves to me tasting my love for you.”

[sichore]

Dethentines 2024

2/10 - sickeningly sweet or scintillatingly steamy

2/11 - trope battle: college AU or forced proximity

My contribution this year is some SNB era Picklejam!

80s MUA!Jimi would not exist without @supersaturnnyoomkitty's fic Single Use Plastic and @thatwritingho's fic Neighboring Jars

Thank you both so much!

“Pbbbbbt.” Pickles blows another raspberry and leans his head over the back of his chair, boneless and zooted. “Yer no fun, Jimi.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” Jimi replies in a manner that suggests she may actually be joking with him. But when Pickles cracks open an eye to look at her, a water bottle fills his vision, and he blinks at the plastic reflecting the lights of the vanity. “Drink this.” “Er… I’d prefer vodka,” he quips with a chuckle, but takes the bottle anyway. “I know, but you’re dehydrated, and foundation can only do so much to cover that up. We don’t need you passing out on the set.”

“An’ here I thought you were worried ‘bout me,” Pickles mutters, and he’s only a little bitter as he obediently twists open the cap and takes a swig of water. His eyes widen, and he ends up downing the whole bottle. “Dood! Where’d ya get this? This water is tasty as fuck!” “Because you’re dehydrated, goofy,” Jimi sighs, and he thinks he catches a hint of a smirk before she walks up to the vanity. “We got twenty minutes to get you ready.”

“Ooh, that’s like, no time at all.” “I’ll make it work.”

Firm fingers find his chin and direct Pickles’ eyes forward to gaze into Jimi’s, brown and bold behind the glint of light that flashes in the lens of her glasses. “Eyes on me.”

Jimi is so fucking pretty, even when she’s being mean. Or maybe she’s not mean, just… focused, or something. Yeah. She wipes the water from his beard with the back of her hand before she begins applying foundation. There’s a faint throb behind Pickles’ eyes, but he keeps his gaze focused on her face, frowning in concentration. “Yer gonna get a wrinkle like that.”

“What?” Ope. He didn’t think he said that out loud. “Er, because yer frownin’, ‘n’ all.”

“I’m not –” Jimi inhales through her nose, making a failed effort to relax her face. “I’m just concentrating.”

“Uh huh.” It’s fucking cute, is what it is, and a grin keeps tugging at Pickles’ mouth.

Which makes Jimi tap his cheek before returning a soft brush there, probably adding blush. “Stop that. What are you smiling so much for, anyway?”

“How can I not? Heh. The view is great.” “Look – look somewhere else!”

Oh, shit. She’s blushing. It’s a subtle thing, but he can tell with the lift of her round cheeks, the growing red tone under her brown skin. That's got Pickles laughing, squirming in his seat. He’s gotta tell Sammy and the guys about this. Or maybe not. This will be just for himself.

“Pickles, I need you to be still,” comes Jimi’s stern voice, reaching to his side for what’s probably her eyeshadow palette.

“I – I can’t,” he giggles, weed and molly and the shots from earlier just making this so funny.

His laughter stops abruptly and he freezes when Jimi suddenly sits down right in his lap, wielding her palette and brush like a sword and shield. “Close your eyes.”

He listens, sucking in a slow breath. The weight of Jimi in his lap sends a lightning storm of signals to his inebriated brain and has him sobering up fast in a good way. His hands naturally find her thighs and he thinks he feels Jimi pause, just for a moment, before she’s back to painting his eyelids.

The dressing room is quiet save for the buzz of the lights and the wild beating of his heart. He sent his assistants out a while ago, wanting some peace and quiet for once, since the interview today just asked for the frontman and lead guitarist of Snakes ‘N’ Barrels. The king, the one-man show, the guy really running shit but he can’t just say that. So he kicked everyone out so he could gather his thoughts and whatever bullshit answers he’d feed the media today.

Except for Jimi, who insisted on staying because she “wasn’t gonna let him go out lookin’ like that”, and then only had one shot with him, the party pooper. He can smell the whiskey on her breath and it’s a rich contrast to the light, earthy scent she otherwise is.

Pickles groans and Jimi shifts on his lap, sucking in a breath. He bets she can feel it. He wishes she’d scoot a little closer. “Jim…” “Open your eyes. Look up.” He looks at her first, brown eyes nearly black, and thinks of a pool he was dared to dive into deep in a forest.

Pickles keeps a vice grip on her thighs as she applies eyeliner. “We’re not going so heavy today. I don’t want you out there looking like a ghost.”

“Mmhm.”

“And the interview shouldn't take too long, so if you wanna nap afterwards, that's fine.”

“Nyuh huh.”

“But you've really gotta get better at washing this off first –”

“How ‘bout you come with me?”

“What?”

“Y'know, heh. Hehe. Fer a nap.”

Jimi finishes darkening his waterline and Pickles looks at her to find her professional countenance crumbling a little. Maybe her chest is heaving a bit beneath that sweater. It's so bulky, he doesn't know why she insists on it in this L.A. heat. She should take it off. He wants to peel it off her.

She hasn't moved off his lap so he rubs his hands up her thighs, slowly, and watches her pretty plush lips part in a gasp. A grin splits his mouth like a knife. He runs his tongue along the edge of his teeth and sees her watch the movement.

“I get the feeling you wanna do more than nap.”

“Nahhh, I'm just gonna put ya to bed we– augh.”

Jimi applies his lipstick with no warning, her wand aggressively smearing pigment onto his mouth. And before Pickles can speak, pressing his lips together, she's dabbing a sponge there.

“Wha–”

“Makin’ it smudge-proof. See?”

And then she leans forward and gives him a peck on the lips and everything in Pickles short circuits. He grabs her ass and she just hums and he feels the storm of lyrics within him. Thunderkiss, I want your lightning lips. Strike me down, baby, I'm going down.

Eh, fuck it. He'll workshop it later. He hitches Jimi further up his lap to no resistance. “That's–” His throat’s gone dry and he wants to wet it with her. “That's hardly a test.”

“No?”

Jimi leans forward, she's definitely smiling now. Her hands are empty and holding onto his shoulders and then he's kissing her for real. And Jimi kisses him back, uncertain and clumsy but it's fine, he's used to being the leading man. It's kind of like she's never really been kissed before. It's a damn shame, and it's fucking fantastic, his hand threading through her mane of hair to keep her close.

Jimi tries to speak between breaths. “You're – mmm – gonna ruin my work.”

“So make me up again,” Pickles replies, hoarse and hungry and trying to lick every bit of whiskey he can still taste on her tongue.

And Jimi whines in the sweetest way, squirming on his lap again and he thinks it's deliberate. Hopes it's deliberate. Her fingers dig into shoulders. “Pickles –”

“Five more minutes.” The stage can wait. Everything can wait. Pickles has never been one to skimp on indulgence and he's going to drink her until the last drop. “Five more minutes.”

[bukvarsbitch]

An unofficial, very personal to my tastes, and unnecessary ranking of all of the songs in Nerdy Prudes Must Die

(typed on my laptop so you know shit's real)

I think it goes without saying this is all my opinion. All of the songs are genuinely good, even the ones I don’t love/like! That being said, here’s my ranking just because I’ve been thinking about this a little bit and I want to put it outside my brain.

15: Dirty Dudes Must Die Look, I get it. It’s a twist, it’s a time for Angela to slay. That’s all good and fine. I just don’t love the placement and it didn’t feel like an ending to me. That being said, “darkness will save my soul” goes HARD.

14: The Best of You People keep putting this high up, which I respect, but I can’t resonate with. Someone said it felt very DCOM to them, and I think that might be why I don’t love it; it just feels really tonally different, and not in the way that Just for Once is that’s a clear differentiation for a whole slew of reasons. It’s a totally fine song, I just don’t love it as a fake-out closer. It just doesn’t work for my brain.

13: Cool as I Think I Am (Reprise) I love a sad reprise as much as anyone else; for some reason, this one just really doesn’t vibe with me. No thoughts about why, I just always skip the last three songs on the soundtrack because I don’t love them.

12: Go Go Nighthawks Okay, so we’ve finally gotten past the songs that I just don’t like lol. I actually really like this song! I think it’s cute tonally and it gets off the really artificial and saccharine world that’s about to come crumbling down. Also, the “squawk squawk” always gets stuck in my head for some reason. It’s only this low because it’s not one that I’d put on repeat.

11: The Summoning Someone’s going to dox me for this, but I really don’t love The Summoning as a whole number. It goes hard, don’t get me wrong; I actually ADORE everything before the Lords of Black come in. Mariah, Angela, and Joey’s vocals blend SO beautifully, and the ensemble whispers are HAUNTING. I love, love, love it. The rest of the song is still awesome and I get why people like it, but I don’t love it until the ensemble comes back in towards the end. I also don’t love the start-and-stop of it; if they were going to do that, I feel like keeping everything singing would’ve worked better? I just feel a bit like the energy falters a little. That being said, I still really really like this song.

10: Just for Once I’m a sucker for this genre of musical; my favorite musicals are almost all from this era, and I really like this song on the soundtrack. I don’t actually love it in the show, but I really appreciate it as a number on the soundtrack. It made me understand Ruth a lot more (I liked her before, but I really GOT her after), but I didn’t love how it fit into the show at first, I think because Lauren’s vocals are a little different on the soundtrack compared to the proshot. A banger!

9: Cool as I Think I Am It’s a solid act one number! I’m actually fairly neutral about it, but I still love the way it sounds so it’s higher just because I’m more likely to put it on repeat. I also just love this occurrence of “I’m not a loser” and its later recurrence.

8: Bury the Bully Everyone seems to not like this and bully the bully??? I really like these songs; I think they’re super catchy and they’re a great comedic song for Angela to really get Grace into our hearts (more than she already was). This one’s only lower because I prefer the way the lyrics flow in bully the bully.

7: Bully the Bully I could listen to this song for literal years. I love it so much. Justice for bully the bully lol.

6: If I Loved You I’ve listened to this song SO MUCH. Firstly, Joey and Mariah’s voices go together SO FUCKING WELL. Secondly, “sure, I’m a sapiosexual, you’re intellectual, but I cut my lover losses when I can” is not only one of my favorite lines in the show but it also SO BEAUTIFUL. I think this song is just a great addition to the second act, and I really love it.

5: Dirty Girl Okay, so I will admit: when I first watched the show, I skipped this song. And then, after I finished the show, I went back and listened. I was so wrong, y’all. This is not only a god tier song, it’s also a great way to establish Grace’s absolute fucking insanity alongside Max’s (also) fucking insanity. Grace’s “I’m a good girl”s are such a good addition to the song and her character. I really, really love this song, and I think it’s a great place to start for my top five lol.

4: Hatchet Town SOMEONE’S GOT THEIR HAND ON THE HATCHET HANDLE SWINGING ON THE YOUTH IT’S A HATCHET SCANDAL CAREFUL OR YOUR FOLKS WILL END UP A CANNIBAL’S PLATE IT AIN’T GREAT YOU’RE BETTER ON THE RUN THAN YOU ARE HIDING SUDDENLY THIS QUIET TOWN’S EXCITING

God tier lyricism genuinely and it sounds sO GOOD. I love a “and here’s what the town thinks” song, and this is a great one that goes SO HARD. The chorus sets the tone so well. As I told my friend, it’s like if the Riverdale adults got a musical number, and I LOVE that.

3: High School is Killing Me This, to me, is an example of a genuinely perfect modern musical opening number. It sets the mood of the show so well, and it comes back to haunt you as the show slowly kills off its characters in a way that’s so satisfying. Of course, Mariah and Joey are hitting it out of the park; for me, though, the real star of this song is the ensemble. In any show, my favorite character is the ensemble, and this song is a great example of why. Lauren and Jon do a great job introducing us to the world (and their voices together are beautiful, GOD), and the ensemble makes it feel lived in and sets you up for the whirlwind you’re about to go on. Also, the harmonies. MWAH. (Also, “a cesspool faux democracy, it’s one hell of a normal abnormality” has been stuck in my head since I heard it; one of my favorite lyrics in the show).

2: Nerdy Prudes Must Die Love when the bully comes to kill you but it’s camp! Firstly, Will’s voice is GORGEOUS. Genuinely, I want him to play every single high school bad guy in a musical; he does such a good job. I just adore this song’s placement, tone, lyrics, sound, everything. I really love the way that “I could give two shits that you buried and left me, defiled my body, you pushed me off the edge” sounds, plus obviously the entire will you pray for me bit, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE ENSEMBLE COMES IN. Also, Jon’s absolutely fucking stuNNING “I’M NOT A LOSER.” God, it’s just so good. 100000/10.

1: Literal Monster I feel like this might be unpopular? But, I LOVE this song. It’s another one of those “and here’s what the town thinks” songs (in a way), the harmonies are beautiful, the GUITAR RIFFS, Will’s voice, the way it sets up Max’s entire being and everyone’s relationship to him. I already liked the song before Will comes in, but his voice adds such a wonderful tonal shift to the song with the HUH HUHs and then he just really goes for it, and I love him for it. His “a predator of my size, cross your heart hope to die, you can watch as I rise, I will claim what is mine” is genuinely one of my favorite sounds of the year. MWAH, chefs kiss.

[wool-f]

29 Lessons from 29 years of living 

Hello friends, 

I’ve spent a little while contemplating on whether or not to create a blog post for this but I figured there is no harm in it, and maybe someone will take something from this the way that I take lessons from other peoples’ confessions. 

I have spent 29 years on this earth so far and only very recently have I started writing myself letters on my birthday, listing all the things that I’ve learnt in the year prior. 

Like most other things I post about on this blog, I’ve made a YouTube video talking about this year’s list and the reasons behind each lesson, which you can watch here, but if you prefer to read through lists and come back to them later etc, like I often do, please continue reading and let me know in the comments if you are going to take on any of the lessons I’ve learnt myself, or if you’re going to start making your own list! I’d love to hear your lessons. 

29 Lessons from 29 years of living: 

1. I am truly capable of creating any life or manifesting any opportunity I want. 

2. I should take as good care of my health as possible. 

3. Always try to learn something from any given situation. 

4. Sometimes, things are just shit and can’t be turned into a learning experience. 

5. Not all friendships are meant to last, no matter how badly you want them to. 

6. Let go of people who make you feel like shit. 

7. Don’t lower your standards - let the good people come to you, they will. 

8. Trust you intuition! It never ever misses. 

9. Read the book, watch the movie and rest when you need it. Enjoyment isn’t always productive. 

10.  Never get tired of going to things by yourself - that’s when you have the most fun.

11. Drink water - as much as you can. 

12. Always wear sunscreen - it’s the reason people are looking younger and younger! 

13. Journalling helps your mental health - keep this habit up. 

14. Moving your body at least once a day and preferably in the morning makes you so much happier. 

15. Keep trying to learn that second or third language - your brain works better because of it. 

16. You are lucky - even when you don’t feel like it. 

17. One walk a day is an act of rebellion against productivity and capitalism! (Read Sarah Wilson’s This one wild and precious life to understand this one) 

18. Look around you - take stock of the beautiful world we are in - look up from your phone!! 

19. Don’t get caught up in what other people think of you - if you’re happy and not hurting anyone, fuck what anyone else thinks. 

20. Some people don’t deserve your forgiveness, your time or your energy. 

21. The love you’ve given others they they haven’t returned is never wasted. 

22. Believe that love is out there - you give it to yourself everyday. 

23. Finding time to be creative is an essential part of your happiness. 

24. Sometimes you can keep a little secret for yourself - it’s fun! 

25. Always looking for a silver lining isn’t weakness - finding a light in the dark is strength. 

26. Meditation is important - it makes you kinder. 

27. If you want to do something, jump at it without hesitation - we only have only life, and it truly isn’t that long. 

28. Find beauty and fun in the small moments in life - the mundane can be the best parts. 

29. Never stop believing that a dream can become reality - what is meant for you will never pass you by and if you’ve imagined it, it is meant to be yours. 

If you’ve gotten to the bottom of this post, thank you for taking the time to read my words and thoughts - these are deeply personal to me, but if you’ve gotten anything from them, I’m glad. 

I hope wherever you are and whoever you are, that you’re having a wonderful day and being your truest and most authentic self. 

Be kind to your self and others. 

See you in the next post! 

Gxx 

[husbandhoshi]

three’s a crowd [m]

pairing: haechan x jeno x f!reader

wc: 3.5k

summary: maybe you can have your cake and eat it too, although your friends certainly don’t make it easy.

notes: established relationship!haechan meets bff!jeno, pwp, college!au, sub!reader, threesome hijinks, slight exhibitionism, unprotected piv sex, oral (f and m receiving), spanking, cumplay, breeding, thigh fucking, slight degradation/dirty talk, embarrassing banter, mentions of alcohol

it’s not one of your finest moments, you think, when your top is off and haechan’s hand is up your skirt, and the door is just open enough to reveal a very stunned jeno.

if only any of you were drunk enough to have this be a distant memory in the morning—unfortunately, you learned too late that your faith in mark’s intuition was sorely misplaced when he showed up with half a handle of seltzers and the remnants of what looked like a world war 2 era vodka bottle.

worse, all it took was one sad blackberry white claw (that you split with haechan), a handful of risky texts, and mark passing out on the couch after one and a half shots to find yourself in the unfortunate position of being half-naked in your best friend’s bedroom.

“oh my god, jeno—,” you hiss urgently, but his deer in the headlights gaze does not waver.

your back is pressed against haechan’s chest and your legs tucked behind his to keep them spread—even if you wanted to shoo jeno away and shut the door you couldn’t.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” haechan whispers. he nips at your earlobe between words. “this ok with you?”

you feel jeno’s eyes burning holes into you (or your panties), and for some reason your brain has been astoundingly silent when it comes to even thinking about telling him to go.

jeno stands there, broad chest rising with another shaky breath, all flushed with his pupils blown out, and you’re coming to terms with the fact that, yes, there is something inexplicably hot about watching your best friend watch you get off.

you nod (perhaps a little too enthusiastically), and that’s all haechan needs to proceed.

a threesome is something you’ve all talked about before, and although you’d have preferred it to be much different (perhaps not on the goddamn ground, for starters), something about the impromptu nature of it all has your blood running hotter than normal.

haechan continues working you over, movements deliberate—he wants jeno to watch. his fingertips brush over the thin panel of fabric covering your cunt, dragging just enough to make you dizzy, as he kisses the side of your neck.

you’re not sure whether it’s the graze of haechan’s teeth over your pulse or the way you cannot seem to break eye contact with jeno, but your mind is everywhere and nowhere at once.

your resolve finally breaks when he pushes your panties aside (soaked) to lazily press on your clit.

“ah, shit,” you breathe, unable to stop your thighs from shaking and hips from bucking up into his hand.

another helpless moan, and jeno drops his empty seltzer can, something you would laugh at if you weren’t fighting the pathetic urge to cum just from some heavy petting.

“fuck,” he groans. it comes from his chest, a gravelly, deep sound, and even hearing it makes your toes curl.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” haechan looks up from the littering of marks on your shoulder to meet jeno’s eyes. “look, i’d ask you out to dinner first before we all fuck, but i figure you’re more of a dessert guy?”

you fight the need to throttle your boyfriend for his inability to read the room, but he doesn’t stop playing with your clit, something he is regrettably very good at.

“yeah. fuck.” jeno’s sweatpants drop so fast they might as well be made of lead. you can see the outline of his dick through his briefs, and you wonder how big it is, how it would feel in your guts.

complicating things, haechan is now shallowly pumping a few fingers in you, taking care to press the heel of his palm into your swollen clit.

“haechan, fuck,” you moan, grinding into his hand. “i’m gonna cum—”

then he stops.

“aww, so fast. baby can’t handle the thought of being fucked in both holes, huh? getting all tight around me just thinking about it?”

haechan pulls his fingers out to slap your cunt, really just a few mean pats, but you’re so wound up, your whole body locks up and a pitiful whimper is ripped from your throat. he’s right, the only thing you want is to be split open right now, and the fake pity in his voice is doing crazy things to the building ache in your pussy.

“jeno,” haechan starts. “do you wanna taste?” he nips at your earlobe. “how’s that sound, baby? you want him to make you cum?”

“y-yes,” you plead. jeno stands there and blinks at you. “yes, now please hurry the fuck up.”

you think you can actually physically feel your life force dwindle away every three seconds it takes for jeno to undo a button on his mile-long button up shirt.

it’s some combination of the sheer desperation in your voice and the sight of your cunt, all slick and puffy from your arousal, that breaks jeno. (or maybe it’s the way haechan laughs, clearly enjoying watching two embarrassingly horny people try to get anything done.)

“fuck it.” jeno pulls his still half-buttoned shirt over his head and gets on his knees. oh my god, lee jeno is on his knees, but you barely have time to process anything else before things roll into motion.

haechan grabs your thighs and holds them spread, blunt nails digging into your soft skin. you feel the cold air on your cunt, the wetness dripping onto the ground. you’re shaking with anticipation and right now there is nothing more you want than for jeno to eat you out.

the first touch of his tongue to your pussy sends your back arching so hard you almost pull a muscle, and you cry out.

“fucking dirty, huh? you like watching yourself getting eaten out by your best friend?” haechan asks in a low voice, moving his hands up from your legs to play with your tits, giving them a hard squeeze.

“m-mmhm—” you can’t move; you’re caged between these two bodies, and all you can do is take the pleasure as it comes to you like a speeding train.

you’re a moaning mess, your hands tangled in jeno’s hair as he licks your cunt dry. you’re bucking into his face, but he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him. he’s so eager, you can’t decide if he’s just experienced or if doing this to you has ever crossed his mind, but both possibilities make you a little dizzy.

as if he’s read your mind, haechan starts, “she’s so mean, huh, jeno?” jeno kisses your clit at about the same time haechan bites your collarbone, and you twitch pathetically in haechan’s firm embrace. “my baby’s getting all worked up from seeing you on your knees, knowing you can’t have her?”

jeno nods fervently but never once unseals his mouth from your cunt, and you just might positively cry.

you feel his tongue first in your slit, lapping shallowly at your walls, and his nose bumps your clit; the dual stimulation makes you teary-eyed with pleasure. then, he moves to suck the bud, and a finger prods at your entrance before pushing in. he’s shy, but the literal intensity he’s eating you out with is giving you a near out of body experience.

“fuck, jeno, you’re so—fuck,” you groan, head lolled to the side as he finger fucks you. “take notes, haechan,” you heave in between breaths, and, knowing you, he scoffs in reply (rightly so. it’s almost terrifying how he seems to know your pussy better than you.) and rolls your nipples between his fingers. it’s such a small thing, but you swear the sensation goes straight down to your core.

“more, more,” you beg, hurtling towards a second orgasm.

“she has the audacity to ask after saying that?” you can easily visualize your boyfriend rolling his eyes, but you choose to focus on the telltale smile he presses to your cheek instead.

anyhow, you’re lucky jeno’s nicer than haechan—he immediately complies, adding a second digit. his fingers feel so thick in you, and you savor every moment of it. the pads of his fingers drag against your walls as they curl nicely, adding to the building pressure in your stomach.

it doesn’t help how he moans every time you jerk into him, and you truly feel powerless in the best way possible.

haechan watches intently, and you can tell he’s enjoying the show even if he’s not participating much in it. his cock is rock hard, pressed up against your back, and it’s driving you crazy how you want to fuck both men so bad.

“jeno, i’m—” he knows even before you get the words out, and he pumps two fingers in you, tongue flicking your bud. and you cum, hips arching and voice almost raw from moaning.

he sits up to kiss you, more tenderly than you’ve ever imagined, and you melt in it.

it’s no secret that you had the biggest crush on him when you were kids, back when you were neighbors. he was the boy next door of every girl’s dreams, and it certainly didn’t help how he, as loyal as ever, spent nearly every second of every summer by your side.

of course, as times changed and feelings faded, you both quickly realized things worked much better as friends (to both your mothers’ dismay). somehow, jeno predicted you and haechan falling in love before either of you ever saw it coming.

(you remember it clearly. no one ever argues that much! he had said in his characteristically level voice, although his sheer conviction admittedly terrified you. and in true best friend fashion, when he eventually was proven very right, he made you buy him a milkshake.)

now, as you savor the almost ethereal sight of jeno wiping your cum off his chin, you now know sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too.

“got more left in you?” haechan asks nicely, but you know it’s more of a command. “hope you’re ready to take two cocks at once.”

you’re still catching your breath, but it seems your body has already decided, as you nod quickly. “only one way to find out,” you croak. “but can we please do it on the bed?” haechan laughs at your insistence, but it’s the warm, melty, the in love kind of laugh.

“spoiled, are we?” is his reply, but both men help you up onto the bed. and it’s a goddamn blessing no one is thinking straight enough to notice that you’re about to get railed on the sheets your childhood crush sleeps on.

your cheeks are colored with both humiliation and anticipation as you settle on all fours—you’re really letting your cunt take charge, but who can blame you?

it seems haechan is being generous today, and he positions his cock between your lips and lets jeno kneel behind you.

“ready?” he asks you quietly, tipping your chin up with an index finger. it’s almost intimate, tender, save for the fact you are about to be fucked in two holes.

instead of answering, you lean forward and take his cock in your mouth, at first shallowly to tease him a little. the weight is warm and familiar on your tongue, and you suck hard around his weeping cockhead.

“shit, fuck,” haechan groans, carding a hand through his hair.

jeno doesn’t miss a beat. he slides his cock in between your pussy lips a few times for prep before you feel him push in first slowly, then all at once.

your eyes roll back into your head. fuck, you knew jeno was big—but not that big.

you moan around haechan’s dick, and he pushes right back into your throat, causing you to gag.

“aw, shit, sorry,” haechan says, tucking your hair behind your ears and moving his hands to cradle your cheeks. “jeno, what are you waiting for? don’t you know how to treat a lady?”

“actually,” jeno starts. he’s trying to sound casual, but you hear the grit of his teeth as you pulse around him. “i was going to ask you the same thing. how is she so fucking tight if you guys fuck all the time?”

he rocks out and then in again, still shallowly as you adjust to his girth. you swear you can feel every goddamn vein on his dick with how he’s splitting you open.

you don’t want to stop sucking haechan off, but you are seriously wrecked—something about jeno’s voice is dark, dangerous, and you really want to cum again.

“jeno, please,” you finally say, trying not to sound too desperate.

and so he fucks into you properly, hips slamming into your ass and hands digging into your sides, enough to bruise. those damn soccer players, you briefly think, but he makes sure even that thought is fucked out of you.

the momentum has you mouth fucking haechan, who has his eyes wrenched shut in pleasure. you can’t take your eyes off him—he’s so pretty, moaning loud as you suck him off hard.

“he’s ruining my view,” jeno tells you, jerking a thumb at haechan.

“fuck you,” he replies. “never inviting you to a threesome again.”

and you would deeply resent the fact that it’s not just haechan who can’t read the room if you weren’t grateful you still had the wherewithal to laugh for a brief moment before you keen in pleasure again.

it seems like jeno’s close, with the way he’s fucking you more erratically. your throat squeezes around haechan as you struggle to keep a lid on your moans; every time you take him down that far, you feel the glorious feeling of his hands wrenching up in your your hair, hear the voice you love so much.

jeno’s quick and dirty—when you feel his dick twitch in you as he gets closer, he reaches between your thighs and presses your clit ever so softly.

“oh fuck, jeno, fuck, fuck,” you cry out as haechan’s dick slides out of your mouth with a slick pop. he sits back on his feet and lazily strokes himself, content with watching you get railed hard.

“close?” jeno asks, applying more pressure to your clit. he slows his pace, instead deciding to fuck you deep and hard.

you hang your head, thighs shaking and voice quivering. “so close, jeno— please—” blinking through teary eyes, you watch haechan’s hand twist over his cock so expertly, and you revel how he also takes pleasure in how utterly fucked out jeno’s cock has made you.

with another careful touch to your clit, jeno sends you over again, dick hard against your walls and moving so slowly you can feel every inch of it. you cum so hard, he groans when you clench around him, and he cums like this too and fucks you through both your orgasms.

“h-haechan, it’s so much,” you moan, gripping at the sheets with white knuckles.

“yeah? jeno, fill her up,” haechan orders, and god, it’s so good, so warm and wet and sloppy in your spent pussy.

you’re shaking, and you can feel jeno’s cum leaking out of your hole as his dick slides out. “haechan...” you manage. “you didn’t cum.”

you look up, only to see him smiling. “oh, you didn’t think we were done yet, did you?”

you swallow hard.

“watch and learn, jeno.” haechan positions himself behind you.

jeno, already satisfied and basking in the warmth of his orgasm, is content with laying back against the headrest and watching (how does he still look like a greek god?).

first haechan grabs a fistful of your hair, then pushes you into the sheets. you can’t help but whimper a bit. he’s been rough before—but something tells you he wants to put on a real show.

and then you feel his other hand come down hard on your ass.

“fuck,” you moan into the pillow. you’ve cummed twice now, but your hole clenches in anticipation. you feel more cum leak out of your hole and onto the bed. there’s more on the apex of your thighs, warm and milky and sticky.

“jeno, you seeing this?” haechan asks, horribly confident grin plastered on his face.

“fuck—” jeno’s hand finds his cock again, and he starts playing with himself.

he slaps your ass again, and you keen into the sheets. then his hand rubs over your skin, hot and smarting, and it takes everything you have not to lean up into his touch.

haechan slides his dick between your lips, coating it with cum. “you wanna get filled up, huh? walk home with cum down your legs?”

“p-please...need you to cum in me.” you’re humiliated, this is absolutely mortifying. the words just fall out of your mouth without a second thought, but part of you loves it, and you know your boyfriend does too. and jeno is staring so hard, you’re surprised no one’s told him to take a picture so it lasts longer.

with your head in the sheets and your hole literally dripping, he fucks you. hard. harder than jeno, who seemed to retain a bit of romance and apprehension.

you cry out, muffled by the pillow.

“he said i don’t fuck you hard enough,” haechan says to you, jaw clenched. “what do you think?”

you can’t even form a complete sentence, and you just whine into the pillow. your voice comes out in bursts, like he’s knocking the sound out of you.

haechan would never let you forget how good he is with his hips, and with every time he draws back and fucks into you, you swear you’ve never felt anything better.

“fuck, you’re still so tight,” he swears. “bet you like this, huh, slut? just a fucking cocksleeve for us?”

“mm—mhm—”

then he pulls you up by your hair, and your back arches up, causing his dick to angle so good against your walls, hitting your g-spot just right.

“fuck—yes, yes,” you gasp. “please please please please—”

“what’re you asking for, honey?” haechan asks, cruelly pulling out to fuck his cockhead between your thighs, all sloppy with cum. “what do you think she wants, jeno?”

you glance over and see jeno stroking himself off, eyes transfixed on you. and unlike anything you had ever thought possible, he leans forward to clasp your jaw in his big hand. the added weight alone parts your lips slightly, and all you can do is gaze back at him with your glazed over eyes as you feel haechan’s rock hard cock fuck itself between your legs.

“use your words,” he tells you, thumb pressing right on your tongue so you can feel him. and you pray, pray, no one ever talks about this day again because you whine so loud, you think you might as well have woken mark up from his coma on the couch.

“f-fill me up,” you babble. “need your cock, channie.” and the second jeno takes his palm out from under your chin, you buckle back into the sheets with the impact of haechan bottoming out into you.

“fuck, you’re already knocked up with jeno’s cum. can you take another load? huh?”

“y-yes, yes.” you close your eyes tightly, bracing for another orgasm. his dick is swallowed by your fluttering walls, all you feel is tight, warm, and messy for him.

“so fucking good for me, huh? pussy’s gonna look so pretty all plugged up, fuck.”

you take a hazy glance to your side and see jeno’s hips canting up into his fist. you think about how his dick is covered in you and it sends sparks to your cunt.

you can tell haechan is close too, as his rhythm falls apart and he just fucks you deep and hard.

“kiss me,” you breathe, propping yourself up on your forearms to look back at haechan. through the waves of pleasure rocking through your body, you can even admire him now, his broad chest and the way he looks at you with such devotion.

and when he leans towards you, desperate and eager with love, to seal your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy, it offers jeno a glimpse of what your relationship is really like. haechan moans into your mouth, submitting easily to your touch, and you can hear jeno’s cry when he cums on his chest (the damn hopeless romantic).

but you’re no better, and as haechan catches your bottom lip between his teeth, you both hit your high, and you feel his cum shoot up into your hole. it’s so warm and wet feeling, and you wonder if it’ll feel like that for days.

you collapse onto your stomach. walking seems like a distant dream, and your entire lower body feels like wet jello. but it doesn’t matter, because haechan plants a kiss on the top of your head and all feels right in the world.

“where are you going?” you croak as you feel jeno’s weight leave the bed.

“i’m getting you a wet towel. you guys can stay here and keep being all gross or whatever.” jeno slips his briefs on and opens the bedroom door. “you’re welcome, by the way.”

“still uninvited from the next threesome,” haechan calls after him, laughing when jeno merely flips him off in reply.

you’re drifting in and out of what just might be the fattest nap of your life when you hear mark holler from downstairs.

“shit man, where’d your clothes go?!”

jeno doesn’t respond.

“what the fuck did i miss!”

you and haechan can only laugh.

[specialagentsergio]

hands to myself

summary: You and Spencer have just confessed your feelings for each other. And now, he simply can’t keep his hands off of you.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: smut, 18+ (minors DNI)

content warnings: swearing, dirty talk, making out, heavy petting, fingering, hand job, lil bit of overstimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex (no glove no love y’all), lmk if i missed anything.

a/n: this is a companion to my fic side effects may vary, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!

a/n 2: just a quick reminder, in case you missed it above—the original fic is gender neutral reader, but this is female reader.

word count: 2.3k

song: hands to myself by selena gomez

masterlist

You lift your head from his chest and look him in the eyes. “Kiss me again.”

Spencer does. He can hardly believe this is real. Yesterday he was waking up in his own bed, alone and grumpy about having to get up. Today he’s in your bed after spending the night with you. You confessed your feelings to him just moments ago, feelings that he was thrilled to inform you that he shared. And now, he’s kissing you.

You pull back eventually, and he’s about to complain, but then notices how loose the shirt you’ve slept in is. With the way you’re leaning over him, it gives him a great view right down it. He quickly looks away, but it’s already burned into his mind.

You adjust positions slightly, pulling your legs up under you to kneel at his side, then lean back down to resume kissing him. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, but the other wanders; it eventually comes to a stop right under your breast.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You can touch, Spencer,” you murmur.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He immediately starts feeling you up through your shirt, then thinks better of it and moves his hand underneath the fabric. He’s so caught up in exploring what may possibly be the best pair of tits he’s ever had the privilege of touching that he doesn’t notice your hand descending his body until it’s at the waistband of his underwear.

Your eyes flick up to his, asking for permission; the way your pupils are dilated makes his heart skip a beat. There’s no denying he’d love your hand on his cock, but he still says, “Wait.”

You slide your hand away and to his waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” he says breathlessly. “I’m enjoying this. But I realize there’s a sort of… societal expectation for women to…”

“Put out?” you offer.

He wrinkles his nose. “I hate that phrase. But yes.” He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I just want to tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to, you know… go all the way right now.”  

“Oh, I want to,” you answer right away. Your nails dig into his side a little. “You have no idea how much I’ve been fantasizing about you lately.”

Spencer inhales sharply. “Christ, (Y/N).”

“But likewise,” you continue, as if you didn’t just cause his brain to explode with one sentence. “If you don’t want to do this right now, we can wait.”

He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he pulls you back down into a passionate kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes to me touching your cock,” you murmur against his lips.

“God, yes,” he corrects.

He had taken off his pants to sleep last night, so you have easy access to his dick. You push his briefs down his hips and take him in your hand. He can’t stop the groan that leaves his mouth. You take a moment to glance down and run your hand every which way across it, getting familiar with it.

“Your cock looks even better than I imagined,” you mutter as you begin to jerk him off.

Spencer throws his head back against the pillows. “Well, I definitely feel a lot less guilty for jacking off to thoughts of you now.”

You smile. “You got yourself off thinking of me?”

“More often than I’d like to say,” he admits. “But from the sound of it, I wasn’t the only one.”

“No, not at all. What would you think about?”

It’s then that he notices you grinding down on the heel of your foot. He’s had a hand on your ass, and slides it forward now, replacing your heel with his hand. “I thought about doing this,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down over your clothed pussy. “More than this, too.”

“Tell me. No, wait,” you correct. “Show me.”

He doesn’t oblige right away; instead he latches his lips to the skin right above your collarbone and sucks hard enough to leave a mark. The corners of his mouth turn up when he feels you squirm against his hand. “I’d love to,” he finally says.

Deftly, his hand moves past the waistband of your panties, past fabric, skin and hair. “Lovely,” he murmurs when he feels the wetness gathering at your entrance. The pace you’re rubbing his cock at falters a bit when he slides a finger inside. A second finger quickly follows, then he matches your movements, thrusting his fingers into you when your hand moves down his cock; pulling them out when you stroke up. He relishes in the moan you let out when he crooks his fingers to hit that spot.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” you breathe out.

With his free hand, he pulls down your panties so he can watch his fingers glide in and out of you. “Contrary to what my coworkers think, I have done this before,” he murmurs.

“Doesn’t surprise me at all.” You pause in your strokes to play with the head of his cock, prompting a moan of his own. “You’re so pretty. I’m surprised more people don’t throw themselves at you.”

He shrugs. “It’s the social ineptitude, I believe.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re—oh shit,” you gasp. He’s just adjusted so the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit on each thrust of his fingers into you.

This goes on for a few more minutes, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing, gasps, and moans. Suddenly, you stop stroking his cock. He pulls back from kissing you and looks at you questioningly.

“I want you,” you whisper.

Spencer frowns a little. “You have me? My fingers are literally inside of you.”

“I meant I want your cock,” you laugh. “I’d really like to fuck you.”

He didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, and yet…. “I’d really like that, too.”

He removes his fingers from you rather reluctantly. You cup his face in your hands, giving him a passionate kiss before moving away from him, and he wonders briefly what to do with himself as you root around in the bedside table, but the answer quickly occurs to him. When you turn back to him with a condom in hand, he’s popped his fingers into his mouth and is sucking on them.

“Oh, Jesus,” you murmur. He just smiles around his fingers, holding out his other hand for the condom. But he does, unfortunately, need two hands to open it. After taking his underwear off all the way, he uses his wet fingers to stroke his cock a few times, then rolls the condom on.

He’s about to ask what position you’d prefer, but you answer it for him, moving to straddle his hips after tossing your panties aside. You pull his shirt off of him, then take off your own. He immediately fixates on your breasts again, placing his hands on your waist and tugging your closer so he can take one into his mouth.

“You really like my boobs, huh?” you ask.

He hums an agreement against your skin. “I mean, I really like all of you. But I’m particularly fond of these.”

He keeps at it until you let out a little whine, rolling your hips against his erection. “Spencer, please.”

“Alright, alright,” he relents. He places one kiss on each breast, then leans back.

You smile in excitement, wiggling your hips a little. You take his cock in your hand and run the tip through your folds. “You ready?”

He nods. “I’m ready.”

You line him up, then sink down onto him. He’s done a good job getting you ready; his cock slides in easily. You both let out sighs of relief and pleasure when he’s fully inside you. You lean forward slightly, gripping the headboard. “God, you feel so good,” you say breathlessly.

All he can do is make an affirmative noise, overcome with the pleasure of being inside of you. You feel perfect. “Y—yeah, you… you too,” he manages to get out.

It makes you laugh. “And they say romance is dead.”

After some deliberation, he settles on putting his hands on your hips. “Who says that?”

“It’s just a figure of speech.” You press a few soft kisses on his lips, then begin to move. You take it slow at first, lifting yourself up, then dropping back down. It takes him a moment to get accustomed to it, but when he does, he adjusts his legs so he can lift his hips up to meet yours on each stroke.

“I realize I didn’t express my thoughts very well,” he says, pulling your chest down against his so he can whisper into your ear. “So just to be clear, your pussy feels fucking amazing.”

“Fuck,” you gasp. You press your forehead against his and he follows your gaze to between your legs. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of you makes him groan.

“Yeah,” you agree. “It’s a good view.”

Some of your hair has fallen into his face; his pushes it to the side so he can see better. It’s an intoxicating sight, even more so when he starts fucking up into you faster.

You brace yourself with a hand on his chest. “Your cock… it feels like it was made just for me,” you pant.

“Mmhmm,” he agrees. “It’s… oh, I’m close.”

The side of your mouth turns up. “Already?” you tease.

“It’s the first time I’ve fucked you,” he protests. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Of course I’m not going to last as long as usual.”

He may be feeling his orgasm approach, but Spencer hasn’t forgotten about you. He slides a hand down to where your bodies are joined, gathers some of the wetness there, and uses it to rub your clit.

“Oh, Spencer, yes,” you praise, and start bouncing on his dick faster.

In general, Spencer prefers for his partner to come before he does, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it this time. Your skin is covered in a light sweat and your hair is messy, and it’s so… charming. Naked on top of him, he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” The pet name slips out of his mouth on its own.

Your hand finds its way to his hair—you tug—and he’s gone. He thrusts up into you sloppily as he cums, moaning your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

“Your ‘o’ face is so hot,” you say when he’s come down and is able to look into your eyes again.

“My what?”

“The ‘o face’ refers to the expression someone has when they orgasm,” you explain. “Yours is really hot.” Then your bottom lip drops out in a little pout, a clear contrast to your words. You grind down on him just a little and it clicks into place. His thumb had stopped moving on your clit when he came, and now you’re left without release.

He goes back to it rubbing your clit immediately, so suddenly that it startles you. “Spencer!” you yelp.

His free hand slides up the expanse of your back. “I’ve got you. Gonna make sure you cum, too.”

“Please,” you whimper. His dick is still inside you, and the little rocking movements you’re making cause a little overstimulation, but the condom helps and the way you clench around him every few seconds… he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to.

Your hand grasps his; you move his fingers around a little, showing him exactly how you like it. And when he gets it right--

“Oh, shit. That’s it, Spence. That’s it. Don’t stop.”

He kisses your neck as he does just what you say—he doesn’t stop.

Shortly you’re gasping out against the skin of his shoulder. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna--”

You throw your head back as you cum. The rhythmic contractions of your pussy around his cock makes it twitch inside of you. If he wasn’t still in his refractory period, that alone could make him hard.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

You settle down completely against him, chest to chest, and he listens as you catch your breath. “Thank you. Not everyone… well, every man, will do that.”

“I’ll always finish you off,” he promises, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

You lay there together for five blissful minutes, running fingers across each other’s bodies and whispering sweet nothings. But then you push yourself up with a huff. Naturally, Spencer immediately protests. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta go pee,” you say with a shrug. “The chance of a UTI trumps cuddling with you right now. Sorry.”

“Well. Understandable,” he concedes. He watches his now-soft dick slide out of you as you get up; it’s rather captivating. He starts cleaning himself up as you walk off towards the bathroom, carefully rolling the condom off and tying it off.

“Spencer.”

He looks up. You’re standing in the bathroom doorway. “Yes?”

“You know how earlier I said I had been trying to get you into my bed for weeks?” you ask. “And I said that I didn’t mean it that way?”  

“I do.”

“Well, that was only half true.”

The side of his mouth turns up. “Clearly.”

Your little bashful smile makes his heart flutter. But then you say, “You should thank your psychiatrist the next time you see her. You know, for prescribing you a medication that made you fall asleep, and subsequently led to you getting laid.”

Heat rises to his cheeks. He clears his throat before speaking. “You know, I think I’ll keep that to myself.”

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

tell me what you thought here!

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.

{Wounded Love}

This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.

But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.

“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”

Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.

“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”

Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.

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Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.

“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.

Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…

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The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.

“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.

“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.

“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.

“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.

“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.

“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.

“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.

“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”

“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”

Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.

“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).

“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”

“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.

“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.

The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.

“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.

Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.

With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.

Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.

“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.

“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.

As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.

If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.

“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”

In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.

The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.

“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”

Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.

Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…

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“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”

“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.

“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.

“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”

A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.

“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.

“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.

“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…

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

BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.

Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.

Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.

And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.

“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.

Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.

“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.

“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.

“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.

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

GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.

“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.

“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”

“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”

Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.

“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.

“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”

“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.

So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.

“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”

“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”

[moxfirefly]

Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival. 

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?” 

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.” 

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ———��

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.” 

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed. 

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

[marvelouspeterparker]

just little old me

pairing: harry styles x reader

summary: after releasing his second album, and the music video to his hit “watermelon sugar”, the response from his fans is overwhelmingly positive. and while you’re not surprised, harry on the other hand is very grateful, but just a little confused. but you’re more than happy to help clear some things up for him.

warnings: smut (hints of sub! and dom!harry––we love a switch) + unprotected sex but y’all know not to do that! be safe <3

word count: 3k

notes: this is my first ever harry fic! (also based on the summary u can see how long ago i started this sfjkdhgs) i’m so scared to post this i feel like all the harry writers are so talented––

[i’ve been reading harry fics for so long and these are just some of the blogs that you could say pushed my love for harry and inspired me to write a fic of my own: @majorharry​ @harryforvogue​​ @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​​ @sunflowervolvimp3​​ @haroldloverboy​​​ @songbirdstyles​ if you haven’t read their stuff yet, you should! i reread them all the time!]

You and Harry had been friends for the longest time, since before he was the Harry Styles. You’d watched him grow up in the spotlight while you supported and loved him from the sidelines. He’d bring you everywhere with him when he could, or rather when you allowed him to––you didn’t like the idea of him spending his money on you, but he always waved you off, saying nothing was too much if it was for you.

You were so proud of what he’d achieved and what he’d become but he was still the same Harry you grew up with and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him in your life all this time.

While he rarely spent his time on social media, you spent a majority of your time checking your phone and refreshing your feeds––you just liked to be informed and up to date. Harry didn’t interact that frequently with his fans online, instead preferring the connection when you meet face to face. However, although he wouldn’t respond to people, he would often let you show him what people were saying––after all, he was human too and sometimes he would get a little curious.

You and Harry had been sitting on his couch for an hour now, him messaging Jeff to deal with work related things while you scrolled through twitter, looking at the fans reactions to Harry’s latest music video. It made you smile seeing how happy he made people, you’d seen several people had said that this was “exactly what we needed during this time” and honestly, you couldn’t agree more.

You scrolled down some more and genuinely laughed out loud at the next tweet you read. “I’d sell both my legs and arms just to be the watermelon slice between Harry’s teeth.”

You caught Harry’s attention and he looked over at you, raising a brow, a small smile on his lips. “What’s up?”

You settled down from your laughing fit and showed him the tweet and both his eyebrows raised.

He laughed sheepishly, “You know I really don’t get the ‘hype’”, he put the last word in air quotes. He was always trying to keep up with the latest “slang” as he would put it. He shrugged, a small smirk on his face “I’m just little old me.”

Though his face showed humor, after all the these years, you could tell from the look in his eyes that there was some truth behind his words.

You looked at him incredulously before rolling your eyes and putting your phone aside, unable to stop yourself from going off. “It’s because you’re so genuinely kindhearted, talented and incredibly attractive.” You said as a matter off factly, looking him right in the eye, before looking down at your hands and leaning further back into the couch. “And you have this aura about you––Literally anyone would get down on their knees for you if you asked––actually, no, you wouldn’t even have to ask. You could just look at them and they’d do it, no questions asked. They’d know what to do.”

You had no idea where the courage for you to say all that came from, but you have to admit something about seeing him biting into those watermelons and looking right in the camera three minutes straight while he sang about eating someone out put you on edge. You had been there for him through all his relationships and you loved having him as a friend...but being that close to Harry and not falling in love with him was practically impossible and you weren’t blind. I mean come on.

After a few moments had passed and he still hadn’t said anything, you looked up at him. He was sitting there, a serious look on his face as he stared you down, completely silent. He put his phone down on the table and leaned back, spreading his legs.

You quickly glanced down at his lap then back up to meet his eyes. “What––What are you doing?”

He looked you up and down. “Well according to you,” he tilted his head cheekily, “all I need to do is look at you, and you’ll know what to do.”

Your breath hitched, your brain malfunctioning.“I––You?” You shook your head, knowing that Harry wouldn’t be doing or saying anything if he didn’t mean it. You decided you’d ask questions later. After all, it’d been a while since you got with anybody and you were more than a little horny. You snapped out of your daze and made your way over to him, sliding down onto your knees right in front of him.

You pushed down the thought of how there were literally millions of other people who would kill to be in your position right now and focused on the task at hand. You looked up at him, silently asking for some direction but he shook his head slightly, “This is all you, love. You call the shots.”

You nodded to yourself, taking a deep breath as you calmed yourself down. “Can you take these off for me?” You asked, pulling on his shirt and his sweats.

He quickly got up and stripped himself of his shirt and his bottoms, but you stopped his hands before he could reach for his briefs. You cleared your throat, looking up at him, “I––I can do it.”

He smiled at you before dropping his hands at his sides, letting you do your thing.

You slowly brought the material down, letting his member spring free, trying not to stare too much because wow. You left a trail of soft kisses down his thighs as you pushed the underwear down his legs and you could feel him taking sharp breaths as you did so. He quickly stepped out of them and waited for you to tell him his next move. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and innocently sinful and he swore he felt himself swell up a little more. Your voice was small yet firm when you spoke up. “Can you sit down for me, please?”

He eagerly took a seat and placed his hands on his thighs, his ringed fingers spread out, anxiously tapping against his legs. You grabbed his member and he let out a shaky breath, eyes flitting between your hands on him and your face––both views entrancing him. 

“Is this okay, H?” You asked softly and he almost choked on his breath.

He nodded, “Y––Yeah, f’course it is lovie, shit.” 

You hummed, smiling as you leaned forward and swirled your tongue around his tip. You left open mouthed kisses along his shaft and licked along his cock, from the base to the top before spitting on it, spreading it with you hand and getting it nice and wet. His fingers were digging into his thighs and you couldn’t help but notice. 

You took your hand off of him and ignored the whine that escaped him as you did so. You took his hands in yours and placed them on your head, “You can.” You smiled gently and he nodded, his fingers grasping your strands firmly but not harsh enough to hurt you. 

You put your mouth back on him, stroking him as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head, relishing in the small whimpers and moans of your name he let out. You were completely focused on him, tuning into what made him react the loudest and doing it over and over again just to hear those pretty sounds again. 

His fingers gripped your hair harder, his hips unwillingly bucking into you softly as he got closer. “M’gonna cum, love. Don’t––” He was mumbling, biting his lips as he looked down at you. When you sucked on his tip, looking him in the eyes, he cursed softly and let his head rest on the cushion, deciding it was too much to feel you and look at you if he wanted to last. “Don’t wanna cum just yet.” 

You hummed and pulled off of him, your hand still stroking him. “No?” You pouted playfully. He could hear it in your voice and it only made him twitch in your hand. 

“N––No.” He swallowed thickly and looked down at you, his eyes blown with lust. He reached down and pulled you up to stand between his legs. “Wanna make you feel good too.” You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. “Not fair for me to be the only one getting what I want, is it?” He tilted his head, licking his lips as he looked up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs teasingly. 

When you didn’t respond, his hands squeezed you. “Asked you a question, lovie.” 

You gasped lightly. “N––No it’s––not fair...” 

He smirked, reaching for your shorts. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” You nodded and let out a small yeah, and only then did his fingers slip into the waistband and pull the material down your legs. You placed your hands on his shoulders while he helped you step out of your bottoms. He looked up at you, a glint in his eyes as he reached for your panties, again, only pulling them down after you gave your verbal consent. He kept his eyes trained on yours the whole time he slipped them down, and if anything that made you feel more vulnerable––more open. 

When you stepped out of them, he trailed his hands up your thighs and along your hips before raising your shirt a bit. “Can you take this off for me?” You nodded and pulled the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes as his hands splayed across your abdomen, his cold rings contrasting with the warm pressure of his fingertips. 

His hands slid up, and he smiled when you let out a breathless please when he asked for permission to touch your newly exposed skin. His eyes finally trailed down past your eyes, widening with arousal when they settled on your soft skin, your pebbled nipples, straining for attention. He rubbed his thumbs over the numbs ever so lightly, looking back up at you when you sighed and arched your back, leaning further into his touch, almost as if he wanted to commit it to memory. 

“Look at you, pet.” You whined softly at the nickname and the feeling of his hands on your skin. “So beautiful.” He grasped your breasts and now it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. 

He let his hands slide back down to your waist and you pouted, making him furrow his brows playfully. “Hey, none of that now.” He brought a hand up to hold your jaw. “Just realized we haven’t even had a proper kiss yet and you had me down your throat.” You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but his thumb caressed your cheek soothingly, sliding over to run over your lips gently. “C’mere.”

You stepped into his embrace and pressed your lips against his, your hands coming to hold the side of his face and play with his hair, making him moan into you. His hand stayed at your jaw, the other sliding down your body to grab your ass firmly. Your lips slotted together perfectly as you pulled away and reconnected them softly every few seconds, thoroughly enjoying each other. He licked into your mouth and quickly took control of the kiss, not that you had any complaints, sucking on your tongue and pulling you in closer. He bit your lip and pulled away, smiling when you subconsciously tried to get more of his lips. 

His eyes trailed down to between your legs and they stayed there for a moment, distracted. “Gonna let me have a taste?” He licked his lips teasingly, looking back up at you. “I just wanna taste it.” He referenced his song, a small smile on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as well. “Harry.”

“What?” He shrugged innocently. “M’just being honest.” 

“You actually want to? You don’t have––”

“Been dying to, pet. You don’t know how long I’ve been aching to get my mouth on you.” He got down on his knees and the sight of him looking up at you from that position made your whole body shiver. 

He placed his hands on your thighs. “What do you say? Gonna let me have my dessert?” 

You nodded, letting out a small okay. When you tried to sit down where he had just been seated, he shook his head and stopped you, taking one hand and lifting your leg to place it on his shoulder. Your eyes widened, your mouth dropping open as he placed your hands in his hair to steady you. 

He had the audacity to ask, “You good?” 

You nodded, dazed. “Uh, yeah.”

“Good.” He smiled and with that he leaned forward and licked through your folds, immediately kissing your clit, holding you as your head tipped back in surprise.

“Shit, Harry––” Your fingers gripped his curls, pulling him into you as he moaned. Of course he was enjoying himself as he pleased you. His tongue was moving with purpose as he lapped up your wetness, spreading it around your clit. He really knew how to use his mouth.

You moaned loudly when he sucked on your clit, and even louder when he used the tip of his tongue to trace on it, realizing what he was spelling out–– H A R R Y. He grinned when he realized you caught on and his fingers were digging into you as he held you up, letting you desperately grind onto his face. 

You looked down to make sure he was still okay with all of this, shocked to see him looking up at you, watching your reactions, clearly pleased. You cursed softly. “Feels really good, Harry. Fuck––” 

He hummed blissfully, properly burying himself in you, his eyes stuck on your body as he brought you to the edge rather quickly. “Gonna cum in my mouth, baby?” 

You whined, nodding your head as you held onto him for dear life. “M’so close.”

“Cum for me, pet. I want it.” He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, holding you upright as your body shivered and convulsed in his hands and on his tongue. He didn’t let up, fully making love to your clit with his tongue as he kissed your lower lips passionately, getting his light stubble wet. He was making a proper mess but neither of you cared. 

When your legs stopped trembling, he pressed a kiss to your clit, then to the thigh over his shoulder before placing your leg back on the ground. He looked up at you, a smug grin on his face as you looked at him, breathless. He stood up, his hands finding their place on your hips and he licked the rest of your juices that were still on his lips, his chin still slick with your arousal. 

“Care to clean me up, love?” He leaned closer. “Is your mess after all.” 

You smirked before leaning in and licking up your wetness from his chin and up his lips before bringing him in for a messy, passionate kiss. Without disconnecting your lips your turned him around and pushed him onto the couch, taking your seat on his lap, his arms wrapping around you instinctively. 

You wrapped your hand around his base, smiling down at him when he pulled away to whine. You lifted yourself up a bit and swiped him through the mess he made between your thighs. “Can I ride you, H?” You asked him, teasingly sweet. 

He threw his head back, “Christ, y’can do whatever you want to me, love.”

You kissed his neck and slid him into you, and his fingers dug into you as he let out a long moan. 

“God, you feel even better than I’d imagined.”

You tilted your head, starting to bounce and grind on him, “You’ve thought about this?” 

“Of course I have. Have you seen yourself?” You were about to push further when he slid a hand down to rub at your clit, making you gasp and grind down on him harder.

“Oh fuck, H.”

He grinned, thrusting into you. “That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good.” 

His hand was holding your hip as he bucked his hips into you. How he found your spot so quickly, you have no idea. You tilted your head back and he grabbed your neck gently, making your eyes widen as you looked down at him, noticing the dark look in his eyes as he watched you come undone on his cock.

When he noticed you getting close, he pulled you in to rest on him and your wrapped your arms around his shoulders, whimpering into his neck as he started to fuck you harder, his hips finding a smooth rhythm easily. 

You kissed his skin, marking it up as you sat there and took everything he was giving you. He was still sensitive from before, but he didn’t want to finish before you did, again. “Come on, pet. Give it to me. Just one more so I can fill you up.”

You groaned, your lips grazing his skin as your legs started to tremble, your walls clenching around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge with you. Your body shook as you whimpered, your body tensing.

“That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, thrusting a few more times before he released inside of you, the both of you moaning together.  

He wrapped his arms around you tight, holding you close as he thrusted slowly, making sure to empty himself out inside of you. You both sighed softly and you sat up. He looked up at you, pure adoration and awe in his eyes, his arms still holding you. You placed your hands on his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You smiled sheepishly.

He smiled back, kissing you softly before pulling back to look at you again, his head resting against the couch. “Hi.” 

You looked down, deciding to focus on his tattoos, suddenly nervous. “I’ve uh––sort of wanted to do that for a while.”

He unwound his arms to caress your back with his hands. “Mm me too.” He smiled when you looked up at him. 

“I really like you, H.” 

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that I like you too, then.” He squeezed you playfully. “Would you like to go out on a date this week?”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I’d love to.”