#is grammarly safe

[zenyyyluvyuu]

Oh my good looking boy

[jason todd x fem reader]

Synopsis: just him being your boyfriend for 3 years

Cw/tw: implied sex, ptsd, a little injury

Author note: my English is so broke and grammarly suck I'm so sorry guys 😔 and for this jason i make him with no j scar on his cheeks, kinda ooc I'm sorry 😿

First time & one year:

at first he was kinda nervous with you, but he put up good work with being your boyfriend. He is still a private person, Not telling his past directly. Especially how he was resurrected from the death.

He's not ready to talk about that with you. He's soft with you but didn't let people know that he's soft.

He's also not ready to tell you he was a famous vigilante. He doesn't put a lot of trust in you but still 40%. He might be afraid that his identity will be exposed by you or you run away from fear.

You're just some ordinary civilian. And he's a civilian in the day and vigilante in the night. But trust me he will make time only for you, he will stay at your cozy apartment. When he shows up with a bandage/bandaid in his body, he will makes some excuses to lower your worrieness

Like when you two were chilling on the couch, his hands on your shoulder, sharing warms together, when he reaches a remote to change channel you saw his hand in a bandage.

"Jason what's happened with your hands, did some do that to you?" You ask with your worry tone, as you take his hands. His shoulder begins to tense up.

"Nah I accidentally cut my hands babe, you shouldn't worry too much, I'm kinda clumsy you know?.." his finger is interlocking with yours. Damn his hands are really bigger than yours.

You look at his face, looking if he lies. But then you let out a sigh. He must be really clumsy.

"okay then, but next time be careful.." he gives you a warm smile, he kisses your knuckles.

"no promises" he grins. Letting your head lean on his shoulder, he feels warm, not the uncomfortable warm but soothing warm from you.

Yeah yeahh fantastic 😈

he has to go out early from your apartment because he has a business to do, family business and job business (excuses)

In the end he was a good boyfriend. When walking out to take fresh air or a park. He will hold your hand and let you hold it first, or let you on the safe side of the road.

Hold an umbrella for you, let you sit on the back of his motorcycle and him riding it. He was also a protective yk and he respected your boundaries.

in intimate stuff he will kiss your lips, forehead and even your knuckles. Sex doesn't come first for you both and he doesn't want to scare you with his scarred body. Even the autopsy one. (His scarred hands were Exception)

Two year of dating:

he began to open up with you when he decided to do a sleepover at your apartment. And he now had a nightmare, woke up sweating and pale, his breath laboured. But you were there, with him, besides him. You calm him down, telling him reassuring words. Give him comfort.

You give him a space as you get out of the bedroom to get a cup of warm water for him. when you're gone, he begins to think that you're not like other people he had met before.

Your words bring comfort and calm, and you soothe him. He lets you hold him for a while. Rubbing a circle on his back, kind of soothing for him.

Tomorrow was kinda normal like usual, he sleeps Longer than usual, giving you an opportunity to make breakfast for him. You manage to slip from the bed. Tiptoed to your small kitchen, closing the bedroom door quietly.

When he wokes up, the first thing he does is rubbing the bed where you sleeps. When he feels the emptyness from where you sleep, he jolts awake, he sits up straight, looking at the room.

Okay he's still in your apartment, on your bed. He was raised from the bed, peeking over the door, and then it hit him. The Aroma of food you were making. He opened the door wider, letting himself out of the room.

Slowly he comes to you, you were in your cute apron, making breakfast.

"(name)?"

He called your name quietly, but enough for you to hear him. You turn around to face him, you give him a smile.

"ah! You were awake! I made breakfast" you stirr the food on your pan, he came closer to you. Letting his head fall to your shoulder. His hand is holding your waist, not tightly but light.

"last night ... Sorry for waking you up..and making you worried.." his eyes didn't meet you, still on your shoulder.

You pat his head gently.

"it's okay jay.. do you want to talk about it? After breakfast?.." he let out a sigh. But he let out a nod of approval.

Breakfast came quiet and slow, not suffocating but cozy. You glance at him chewing at the food.

"Is the food tasty? I think the salt is not enough." You continue to chew at your food.

He shook his head no "it is tasty, It's not lacking salt, really" he gazed at you.

You give him a smile "really? Glad you enjoyed the food."

He gives you back a small smile. Continuing his purpose to eat again.

The breakfast ends normally. He wants to do the dishes but you insist that he should stay on the couch and let you do the dishes. He can't say no when you give him a look.

When you're done, you go back to the couch, meeting him. His shoulder is already tense as you sit next to him.

"do you trust me (name)?" He asked you with those eyes. "Of course i trust you jay, why did you ask me that?" You ask back.

He was quiet for a minute and let out a sigh.

"I'm redhood."

"what?"

"you hear me (name) I'm not playing right now"

"..."

He didn't look at your expression. Too scared to look at your disappointment and the terrified look. He lowered his head, facing the floor beneath him. Closing his eyes waiting for the moment of it.

"what's wrong with being redhood?"

He opens his eyes quicker than ever, he looks at you. You didn't give him the terrified look or even disgust.

Instead you give him a warm look. Your eyes are comforting.

"You're not scared?"

"why would i be mad when my boyfriend is a freaking redhood, i get a free bodyguard you know? And even a good man like you" you give him a small smile.

"before we are dating, i sometimes almost get mugged you know? That's why i carry pepper spray, but when we do date, i no longer feel danger nearby because i have my vigilante boyfriend protecting me"

He paused a little. Damn his chest is giving him a really warm feeling right now. His shoulder relaxed. He let out a sigh of relief. Feeling better.

But he has to tell you more than that.

After that he tells you about him first being a robin and how he died by the hand of the joker. How he resurrected from the pit. How his mind was a mess and overwhelming. Turning him into this, redhood.

And you stay quiet and nod while he tells you all his past. Your face didn't change, but Your eyes hold a sorrowful depth, a quiet melancholy that lingers like a shadow.

After that you give him a sooting words to lower his nerves and tenses. His anxiety.

His hand holding yours tighter. He glanced at you, you didn't look at him but his callous finger. His scarred hand, you trace a circle on his hand. Bring him warm

And for the first time he feels like he feels inlove with you twice.

___

Night comes again, he sleeps in your apartment again. But this time is different.

You were getting ready when he took off his shirt, leaving his sweat shirt. You are agape at his muscles body. But his skin was full of scar even the autopsy one.

Kinda hot right? 😈

"it's terrifying right?" He asked you, you quickly shook your head no. He raised a brow.

"no! It's alright.. I'm not scared at all"

"you do?"

You nod really hard.

You get up from the bed and to him. Your steps were slow and finally you were in front of him.

"can i?"

He nod

You gently trace his scar with your finger. Your touch was slow and Calm. He let out shivers at your touch. Your cold finger meets his warm skin.

He holds your hands stopping you from admiring his build.

"your hands are cold" he huffed, his breath warm on your forehead.

".. then why don't we share a warm time then jay?" You give him a reassuring smile.

He let you guide him to the bed, he plop on the bed first and your turn.

Yeah like that yuh uh

He Inhales your hair, the smell of your shampoo.

He holds your hands tightly but is not Hurtful. You can hear his steady heart beat. His body is warm. Too warm even. Like a human heater.

___

Days passed and Jason began to open more to you, he keeps staying at your apartment, like he doesn't even have one. Yeah he's staying.

You do not mind also, it's nice having a company instead of alone.

He will probably buy you food or takeout. And he has this like a habit.

When you two are sleeping together, he will Cover your blanket, like adjusting it or even raise the blanket higher to your body. To keep you warm!

Three years dating:

And now he has claimed your apartment is like his home too. He leaves his apartment abandoned, well when he needs something he will go back to his own to take the things and go back to your house.

And when you confort it to him, he just shrugs. Like he cares anyway.

And now he decided to move on to your home.

Well move on means a little renovation right?

Yep he does it all, so you don't need to worry much, he got this.

He does the heavy lifting and you do the lighter one or decorate.

And when it's done, it looks cozy. The bedroom you shared was now upgraded, the bed is wider than you used to sleep in.

Fits only two people, jason and you of course.

The closet is upgraded to, from small to big. With his clothes in it mixed with yours.

A little decorations from you too.

The kitchen was... Well it's normal just no need for some movement. Just more equipment.

Even the bathroom is just some equipment upgraded. More med kit, toothpaste, soap, shampoo and his toothbrush.

The living room is uhh normal just you decorate it to be more cozy and Jason helps you.

You admire the works you two do. He let out a huff. He crossed his arms, his bicep flexing. You give a glance at his build. God damn.

The two of you take a break on the couch, relaxing.

___

The night. You are getting ready after dinner, preparing to sleep, when jason hugs you from behind. He didn't wear anything besides his sweatpants

His head on your shoulder. Inhaling your smell. You turn your head to him.

"jay?"

He let out a sigh, and he started to kiss you, it started from your jaw to your cheeks. And then your lips.

He rest his fore head on yours. Giving you an adoring look. You give him a smile. Your cheeks is burning. He continues to kiss you, nice and slow.

You reply to the rhythm of his lips.

And then he will guide you to the bed and uhh

Plap plap plap lmao

_____

The day starts usually. The morning he wakes earlier than you did, he was a light sleeper.

Letting you rest he slips out from the bed to the kitchen. He cooks breakfast for you both.

In just his sweatpants and an apron.

And then when you wake up he is already prepared for the plate for you both. The savory smells hit your nostrils. Giving you excitement.

He smirks at your arrival, he gives a kiss to your forehead.

"morning sleepyhead" muah

"morning"

And then breakfast. Nom nom

He was now closer to you, and more protective. He sometimes silently pays the rent when you insist on splitting.

And he loves to tease you, hear you laugh and giggle. He was more humorous. And you love it.

Whenever you go he will be right beside you, he will be following you everywhere. Drive you walk you.

And your shared apartment safety Increase is more secure.

He's kinda paranoid yk, don't forget to chat with him when you come home safely from your work, walk and anywhere.

And sex uhmm. Well you guys kinda do it usually, in private ofc. He feels more confident when he's bare. He also has experience yk, and he can go nice and slow to rough and fast.

_________________________________________________

Alr i hope you like my cringe fic again. And forgive me for any mistake that i write, and the broken English and grammarly wrong. And again i hope you like my fic

I'm sorry for the hiatus i will make time for y'all 😸

Don't forget to stay hydrated 🔅😸

Edit: a little stuff that i forgot to add sorry

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR PT2

synopsis: after completing “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” with straight As your darling Professor Viktor decides to reward you. After all, you're no longer his student... So you two are no longer breaking any rules. And he can have you in Any. Way. He. Wants.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), technically still a power imbalance, switch leaning dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Please save me from this man, why is he invading my every thought and dream? He's making me realize things about myself.

PART 1

Being in higher education is a total pain in the ass.

Having Viktor as your professor made it a million times easier.

Especially since you finished his class as the top student. The look on Viktors face when the charts were released still gives you butterflies to this day.

You're officially a graduate of your STEM program! And with how amazing your grades are, and how many spectacular references you got; you were able to become Viktor’s TA. Allowing for Jayce to become the Lab Professor of “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” (they still alternate roles. They hate being confined to one aspect of teaching.)

Especially since you're now secretly dating the most sought-after professor the academy has ever had.

You know it’s still frowned upon, a TA dating their superior, but at least it’s not as bad as a student fucking their professor. You're guilty on both counts.

You only have a scheduled class twice a week. Once on Tuesdays in the morning, and once on Thursdays in the afternoon. The rest of the week you're free to do whatever (and whomever) you please. It's mostly built this way so you can have enough time to grade almost a hundred assignments and still have time to relax.

You two have squeezed that schedule dry.

You've had sex in the classroom, in your shared office, in the library, in each others apartments.

You're fucking like rabbits.

You'll never forget when you were honestly, truly, just trying to grade some papers with Viktor in the library and all of a sudden you're getting fondled underneath the table and you're covering your mouth trying not to get caught.

You were rewarded that night with how well you behaved. You made sure you two didn't get caught. How sweet.

But there have been times when you've been bratty; desperately craving Viktor's love and attention.

And you got it, in the form of you getting your throat fucked and ass smacked with Viktors cane. He didn't stop until you had tears streaming down your face and your ass was a beautiful mixture of red, purple, and blue.

(you were too stubborn to use your safe word)

The looks of concern your students shot you as Viktor subtly yet smugly drank his sweetened coffee made your blood boil in both anger and lust.

You could barely sit or move due to the spanking, and you could barely talk due to the pounding your throat received. Making it so Viktor taught the class and you sat there pretty; and incredibly uncomfortable.

Some students shot you pointed looks but you pretended they weren't there.

But… there has been instances where YOU were the dominant one.

Where you sucked his cock under his desk, not caring if colleagues came in to chat. Even if it was the dean.

Where you rode him into the mattress, painting his pretty neck and chest with a smattering of hickies.

Where you sat on his face until your body gave out due to how skilled he is with his fingers and tongue.

You're not sure you've ever orgasmed this much before in your life, but you’re not complaining!

Aside from the mind-blowing sex… dating Viktor is like a dream come true.

He’s caring, sweet, kind, and thoughtful. He's still snarky and sassy with a dry dirty humour but… he's perfect.

And you wouldn't change a damn thing about him.

Even when you two are cuddled up in bed late at night and you're having a deep conversation, and Viktor’s insecurities peek through, you shut that shit down immediately.

You're in awe over the fact Viktor's never been in a proper relationship before.

You make a promise to yourself after learning that. You'll be Viktor's first and last relationship.

Till death do you part baby! You wonder which ring will look best on your ring finger.

(but that's a bit farther into the future. Enjoy your relationship as it is now with its sweetness and crazy freak nasty sex)

[illyrianbrat]

Queen's Envoy

Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader

Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.

Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)

N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess

“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”

Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.

-

Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.

Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.

She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.

“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.

“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.

“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”

Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.

“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.

The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."

“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.

They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.

They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."

[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."

Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.

-

Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.

Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.

As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.

Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.

As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”

[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”

-

Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.

After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.

There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.

[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."

"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."

-

Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.

He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.

“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.

She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"

He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”

[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.

Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”

Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.

“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”

Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.

Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.

Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.

Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.

Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.

After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."

“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..

“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.

“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.

[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.

“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

[sickwhispers]

WRAPPED IN A PRETTY PINK BOW

Pairing: (twisted) glisten x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, delusions, reader does not enjoy being held against their will, forced affection(?), baby's first attempt at writing toon gore (not towards reader or glisten), no beta just me and grammarly

Type: one-shot (1,404 words)

It was always so soft… so gentle and calming. A rhythmic cycle of one hum after the other, then a pause, and then back to humming. His finger trailed down the sides of the little pink bow he had used to restrain you, rendering you helpless against his own selfish wishes. The soft fabric becoming an almost soothing sensation to him by now as the ribbon muffled any chance of protest you might have tried to voice. 

You were so lovely. Found him the second you entered this hell hole of a floor and lit a fire inside his chest that kept that tiny dwindling spark of hope from finally being snuffed. Loneliness was never his strong suit. But here you were.

“I'm so glad you're here…” his voice was soft, a whisper that seemed to fade into nothing the second the words had left your mouth and into the quiet atmosphere surrounding the both of you. His hand slipped away from your wrists and up to your face, cupping it with a touch so gentle that it was hard to tell if this was the same man that had held you down with such desperation just a couple hours ago. “I'm sorry I was so rough earlier…”

There was an obvious sign of regret behind his words. His thumb gently stroked at the spot just under your eye, observing the way your gaze seemed to flicker around. Your chest moved in rapid succession—up and then down and then up again. It was such a small detail compared to every little action your body had been making ever since he decided getting on the elevator wasn't something he felt would be best for you.

And, with the same gentleness he had been carrying before, he shifted you slightly until he had your back pressed against him. Your body resting just between his legs as he held you much more closer than he had previously. And, your attempt at moving away was met with an increasingly firm grasp. A soft gasp being his first audible reply to your squirming before letting out a weak: “Oh no-! Wait- please don't move…”

He couldn't let you move away. Not now. Not until he knew you weren't running away. He couldn't stand the thought of you slipping out of his sight. The versions of his friends he had once grown to love were no longer as safe as they used to be. The ichor corrupts not only their mind but their psychical forms as well. You could get hurt. You could get torn to shreds.

“You can't go yet! They could hurt you. They could hurt us. Please, just a little while longer…” You were too fragile like this. He knew the others. How brutal they were. The second they laid a hand on you, he knew you'd be brought down. He had seen it before, their hands ripping at a chest, tearing through the body and breaking it open with a crack as ichor would flow through every little wound that they would inflict. A choked gasp coming from the unfortunate toon who had decided to turn a corner a little too late, missing the sound of footsteps coming from behind them.

Each scene was worse than the last. Watching the life drain from a toon right in front of him as they gave quick spasms, legs twitching as the pool of ichor would surround not only them, but him as well. The ichor staining the bottom of his feet such a dark black that even after a million scrubs, he'd never be able to get it off.

He didn't want that to happen to you. He couldn't let that happen to you.

“Just trust me, okay? Please… just be patient. I promise I won't do anything. I need you to stay here. To stay here with me.” Even as your body thrashed around helplessly, he still never loosened his grip. You were too special, too nice. He couldn't give you up. He couldn't let you be taken away from him again. Don't you understand? You need to stay with him.

The loneliness was driving him insane, hearing footsteps even when no one was there, begging for some sign of a living being that didn't bear any kind of resemblance to the corpses he'd spot—a never-ending cycle of walking around in circles.

Maybe he could keep you forever. Maybe this was the best course of action. You didn't have anyone with you when you ventured out to this floor, and he was sure you wouldn't have anyone searching for you. So, you were alone. 

Alone. 

You were alone.

Alone like him.

You could be alone together. He needed company. You needed the help. You could be alone together. It was the perfect option. He wouldn't have to spend his days talking to himself anymore. Please stop squirming. You know he doesn't mean any harm. He knows his grip is tight, but it's only temporary.

Just calm down, just let him hold you. Let him feel you. Let him remind himself that you exist, that you're real and alive and breathing. Stop trying to tell him you want to leave, he's not letting you. What aren't you getting? 

Don't you see he's trying to help you? Don't you see you're the only thing keeping him sane? Your body thrashes once more in his grasp, and despite how gentle he wants to be, his grip around you tightens, bringing you closer against him as he lets out a frustrated sigh. Even with a singular eye remaining, it isn't hard to tell you want to go.

But you can't. You can't go. You're here now. You're home.

He's your home now, and you're his.

“I know this will take some getting used to. But, please, this is for your own good.” You couldn't remember the last time he had ever looked this desperate. A whine slipped through his words as he clung onto you, trying to savor the feeling of every little aspect of your form he could touch. Surely staying with him isn't that bad, right? He could make you happy. Just a little longer in his arms, and you'll understand what he's trying to get at. You're just nervous.

You're just not used to having someone love you so much. You were alone on this floor. Who's to say you weren't alone on any of the other ones? You just haven't gotten used to having company. He gets it. He can understand. He can be patient. He can get you used to the constant presence of someone nearby, holding you, keeping you safe, showing you all the love you missed out on.

“Just be quiet for now, okay? Enjoy the moment. You look so beautiful right now, even more than when I first met you.” He could barely remember the day. Years of isolation blurring the memories he had cherished so much. But he could remember some things. Specific things. Like the way you had smiled at him, eyes wide with what looked to be amusement. 

He had said something, and you laughed. He couldn't remember what he said, but he knew it wasn't anything resembling a joke because the embarrassment he felt was something he continued to carry on to this day. You tried to apologize at the time, and yet you couldn't get a single word out without laughing.

He wanted to hear you laugh again.

“...and you look like a little present, just for me.” He let himself lean closer, resting his head against yours in a fashion that was supposed to resemble a kiss. And yet, with his face shattered to practically nothing, there was no way to kiss you properly. But that was okay. He could show you love in other ways. 

And, hopefully, once you got used to the idea of staying, you'd be the one starting the affection. He couldn't help but wonder just how loving you could be. Would you kiss him gently? Would you cradle his face despite how broken he was? Would you be mindful of the shards and caress them? Tell him he's perfect no matter how smudged his makeup was or how many times you'd cut a finger on his edges?

He needs you to stay. He's not as perfect as he once was, but he needs to know you still love him. He needs you.

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You

Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Felix is delulu, Reader is stressed and homesick and kinda crazy but she a baddie, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver will be Oliver (a creep), and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: This fic is a follow-up to this post and I would like to thank grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

“FUCK!” you yelled at the top of your lungs just before your nose slammed down on the dewy grass.

Groaning in pain before the mortification of realizing what had just happened kicked in.

You didn’t know what was worse: the fact you had a full front view of the giant’s junk or that he body-slammed you onto the ground and caused you to land on top of the painting worth 30% of your final grade.

You wanted to scream your head off. The paint had finally dried, and you could finally leave the studio at two in the morning. It was close to finals, and pretty much anyone on campus who didn’t get accepted because of their daddy’s bank account was in their dorms. You had hoped that this fact would mean that the paths were empty and, therefore, safe to transport your 30” x 40” canvas.

“SORRY!”

You shot your head up to locate the person who just apologized. Lo’ and behold, it was the same plastered, pasty cunt with a bird’s nest disaster of a haircut drunken idiot who decided it was a good idea to go streaking across campus. His only other distinguishable features were that he was at least 6’3” and that he had a small steel piece pierced on his face.

After the “apology,” he and his friend continued running off to God’s knows where in the dead of night—leaving you behind on the lawn with a bleeding nose, bruised knees and palms, and an oil painting that was torn and caked in mud three days before its deadline.

There was no way to redo it. The project was assigned at the beginning of October. It took 5 hours to set up the models with the motifs and lights, 3 hours to take pictures, and 10 hours to underdraw the preliminary sketch. You didn’t even want to think about the sheer number of sleepless nights you spent in the studio mixing colors and layering. On top of that, you also had your other finals in other courses to study for.

You had practically been living in that studio for the past month. All of the custodians and security guards knew you by name. You got first dibs every day when they refilled the vending machines. It was a true godsend when you didn’t have time to visit the dining halls. Everyone had been so kind and sweet to you. It was a warm welcome compared to the snark and snobbery you experienced from most of your classmates.

Crying from the devastation of the loss of your situation, your shaking legs carried your body and what remained of your work into the building. You knew that your professor stayed in her office late for grading. You could only hope that she would sympathize with your pitiful appearance.

“Wait, so did you get the extension?”

Lifting your head from the sticky library table at Bodleian’s, you stared at your best only friend, Michael Gavey, with a blank stare. You didn’t react to his wince after he took in your haggard appearance. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked terrible.

Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot red with dark mulberry bags underneath them. You had paled since coming to dreary England, but now you looked straight-up sickly. And if that wasn’t enough, your eyes had less life than a dead fish rotting at a Sunday Market.

Your voice was so meek that you were sure he had to strain to hear you.

“Yeah…I got it.”

You knew you had no choice but to beg your Studio Arts professor for an extension. But it killed you doing it. Professor Daria Martin was your favorite teacher and the only faculty member who actually liked you. Her support toward you meant everything to you; the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint her, let alone be the reason why she lost her job.

Your usually so snarky four-eyed friend perked up at the news.

“So, is everything okay?” he asked with hope.

Your head fell on neon-yellow ink-stained pages that filled the paperweight your ethics professor called a textbook. A bitter laugh fell from as your lips lifted to a wry, dry grin.

“Oof, not that simple, is it?” he asked.

“Is it ever?”

“So what do you have to do now?”

“Well-,” you lifted your head to take a deep breath as you started to explain, “- I still have the photos and copies of the sketch. But because the canvas was so large, it was special-ordered. That means I need to wait until another one can be delivered, and since all the works need to be completed in the studio, I can’t leave the campus.”

As you finished your explanation, Michael nodded his head in understanding before he paused, and a look of devastation painted his features.

“Wait, so does that mean-”

“I won’t be able to fly back home for the holidays.”

Fuck, you were about to cry again. You had been so excited to see your old friends and family. You remembered how absolutely homesick you were at the beginning of the term. Because you were a scholarship student from America, your parents encouraged you to settle on campus by moving to your dorm earlier than everyone else. It was bad enough that you missed Thanksgiving, but you had really set your heart on coming home for Christmas and New Year’s. What made it worse was that your parents had told you all about the dinner they had planned for your homecoming. It was going to be a feast of all your favorites.

English food sucked balls.

Your only saving grace was the Crunchie bars Michael got for you when you studied together or when you had to rewrite edit his essays.

You really DID cry after first reading his essay for Introductory English class at the beginning of the year.

“Did you try to report it?”

“Report what? ‘Hey, there’s a wasted asshole running naked across campus, and he body-slammed me to the ground and tore my fucking massive campus that blocked my view of the jackass. He’s probably richer than the goddamn Queen, given how he’s wasted right before finals.’”

“Do you have any description of him?”

“He’s a giant with a small eyebrow piercing, and his fat ass looked like it had never seen the sun.”

Without lifting your head, you heard the scrape of Michael’s chair before he walked across the table to sit in the chair next to you.

“Hey,” he began, bringing you into a warm arm hug, “it’ll be okay. You called your parents about it, right?”

“Yeah -” you sighed before continuing, “- they told me they understood and would Skype me daily.”

“See! Everything’s going to be – wait, did you say that this guy was tall?”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked at your friend at the change in his tone from light and supportive to sharp and interrogative.

“Yeah?”

“How tall?”

“Umm,” you had to think about that, “I’d say he was about 6’3” or above? He was really fucking tall.”

“And he had an eyebrow piercing?”

Ok, now you were really confused. “Yes? Michael, where are you going with this?”

“I think the guy who ran you over was Felix Catton.”

You shot your favorite idiot with a deadpan glare.

“Felix Catton? The same Felix Catton who just so happens to be the same Felix Catton you hate?”

Michael solemnly nodded. “It’s him. It has to be. The only person on campus as tall as him is his cousin, and he doesn’t have piercings.”

“And he’s black.”

“Yeah, that too.”

You were skeptical, and it showed. You didn’t want to callously dismiss your friend, but you knew more than anyone how much his hatred for Oxford’s Golden Boy could impair his judgment. You were by no means a fan of the guy, but accusing someone of anything they didn’t do just because your friend thought so went against your principles.

He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the bookshelf in front of the table where Felix and his groupies sat. Both of your books and bags were in your chairs, but you managed to keep your spiral notebook with you. It wasn’t hard to find them – they were the loudest table in the entire library. They also reeked of cigarettes and booze.

“See?” Michael hissed. “Giant, pale, and eyebrow piercing. It’s him!”

“Michael,” you softly groaned, “just because you hate Felix Catton doesn’t mean you can –”

An extremely shrill voice interrupted you.

“I can’t believe you and Farleigh actually ran around campus naked!”

A petite girl with full pink lips and dull red hair latched on the arm of the man of the hour. “It was so hot to watch!”

This girl has weird-ass tastes in guys.

“And then how you crashed into that dunce at Ruskin! Brilliant!”

Your blood ran cold while another one of Catton’s faceless droning puppets chimed in.

“God, what an idiot! It’s their own fault, anyway. Who the fuck walks in the middle of the walk path with a fucking big canvas in front of them?”

One of the lessons hammered into your skull young was never to move before you think. That lesson had saved you ten ways from Sunday. But this was not one of those times.

You’re pretty sure that you hear Michael calling out your name as you walk away from the shelf and towards the overcrowded table. Tunnel vision took over you as you made your way to the overgrown idiot who almost cost you your entire future.

Grabbing the back of his shirt collar, you dragged the 6’5” towering fool on his ass all the way outside. You finally let go when the two of you reached the back of the building that had no windows.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, did you relish the crunch that immediately followed your swing.

Fuck, was his head killing him.

Felix should have known better than to have gotten cross-faded last night, but Farleigh had practically goaded him to do it. It’s not like his cousin ever had to worry about his grades for any of his courses during finals – the little shit-starter had always been so fucking academically gifted.

He skipped pretty much all of his morning classes and barely made it to his afternoon schedule on time while completely zoning out the entire time.

If he bombs on all his finals, his dad was going to absolutely murder him. But chances were he and his mum were going to be too busy entertaining whichever new friend his mum brought in for shelter.

“You alright there, champ?”

Felix swiveled his head too quickly and immediately groaned in pain. The motion made his hangover even worse. Rubbing his eyes to try to soothe the pounding in his head, he slowly opened them to look at his cousin.

The slag didn’t have the decency to look even a little bit affected from last night’s event – the fucker. No, he was sitting there with all Cheshire grins and gleaming eyes while Felix was two seconds from heaving his guts out.

“Yeah, I’m alright, mate.” He replied in a tired groan.

“Must have been quite the night. Wonder if it had anything to do with that little cocktail you took from our sweet Annabel’s belly button?”

Disgust was clear on Felix’s face as he recalled the body shot he had taken from his ex-FWB’s navel. He truly must have been off his rocker last night – he thought he was over with body shots since graduating secondary, but apparently not.

If he somehow got an STD from doing it, V was going to kill him.

But even with all of his horrible actions that caused the raging war inside his skull, that wasn’t the main cause of his misery.

Farleigh’s grin dropped as judgment painted his features.

“Oh,” he moaned, “please tell me this isn’t about ‘your angel’ from last night.”

He didn’t just take the dare of streaking across the grounds just for the hell of it. He needed an excuse to pass through the art building – all for the chance of seeing you.

You. His angel of paints and books who lived in the empty studio rooms of Oxford University’s Ruskin School of Art and whose presence harangued him every hour of every day. Everywhere Felix went, he would unconsciously look for you.

It was his soul calling out for yours – he knew it.

Felix had never felt so drawn to another human being in his entire existence. He’d never seen you outside of the libraries, art building, and maybe the dining hall if he was lucky. You never went to any parties or even had a drink at the pub at King’s Arms. He didn’t even have classes with you, but he knew Farleigh did. Word was that you and his cousin had shared a few classes – what’s more was that you were likely the only person who could go head-to-head with him in academics.

And to make it worse, the prat refused to tell him anything about you – not even your fucking name.

“Believe me,” he told him after Felix had been begging his cousin for hours to share anything about you, “she is way above your league.”

Which really hurt his feelings, by the way – sure, you were probably way above in book smarts, but there wasn’t a girl that remained indifferent to his charms after a good talking fucking.

“I still can’t believe you won’t at least tell me her name,” Felix complained once more, “or even just give me her number!”

“She’s an American here on scholarship and a bore,” he quipped back, “what’s there to tell? And can you please shut up? I want to get some reading done before tonight. You do remember the in-class essay we have tomorrow, right?”

Bloody hell, he did not. Pushing down the bitter feeling in his chest, he and his cousin made their way to meet everyone at the back. As soon as he sat down, Annabel clung on to his arm. Thank fuck he had been wearing one of his thicker jumpers – otherwise, her claws that she called nails would have ripped open the fabric.

“Hey, Felix!” she made sure to offer a very generous sight of her cleavage, “are you ready for tonight?”

Felix chuckled lowly before responding. “Aren’t I always?”

And just like that – he completely zoned out the rest of the conversation.

Annabel was probably saying something to get him to notice her, and Farleigh was likely responding so he wouldn’t have to – but Felix couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care.

He was lost in the living daydream that was his angel that haunted the art studios of Ruskin School of Art.

He was desperate to learn everything about you.

If he asked you to talk about your favorite books, would your eyes sparkle in delight, or would your smile widen in glee?

If he grabbed your hand, would your palms feel marred by his rough skin, or would you press your callouses to his?

If he pressed his mouth on yours, would your lips feel as soft and plump as they look? Or was their luster forever damaged by your teeth biting them whenever you were in deep concentration?

If he breathed in your scent at the crook of your neck, would your skin smell like the paints forever on your brushes or the musky pages of heavy ancient books you always carried in your arms?

If he planted kisses from your throat to your breasts, would you mewl in pleasure or whimper in anticipation?

If he touched your cunt, would you arch your back in ecstasy? Or would your legs crumble, and you would have no choice but to sink into his arms?

Felix’s thoughts were rudely interrupted when Farleigh jammed his bony elbow into his ribcage and hurriedly whispered.

“Look alive, Golden Boy.”

Looking forward, it was better than any of his wet dreams combined. It was you.

Your hair was loose, and your fists were clenched. You reminded him of a ferocious lion goddess with how focused your gaze was on him.

But before Felix would prepare himself to make a good impression, you walked behind him and grabbed the back of his shirt collar before fucking dragging his ass out of his seat and outside.

Bloody hell, for someone so much shorter than him, you were fucking strong.

When you finally released your grip, he fell on the ground like an idiot before he tried to stand and steady himself as quickly as he could.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, you might have actually broken his nose.

After staggering back, you started using the spiral notebook in your other hand to land blow after painful blow on his body.

“YOU. STUPID. FUCKING. INGRATE –” Each word that left your mouth was emphasized with another hit from your notebook “– I. HATE. YOU. YOU. RUINED. MY. PAINTING. I. SPENT. SO. MUCH. TIME. ON. IT. AND. NOW. I. CAN’T. GO. HOME. FOR. BREAK. BECAUSE. OF. YOUR. STUPID. SELF!”

Felix was confident you had more to say, but you were pulled off him by your friend – he’s pretty sure it’s Mitchell – by the waist with you kicking and screaming out profanities to him as your friend called out your name to try to calm you down.

He wondered what it said about him if he told anyone how much you looked like an angry cat. His parents would send him to a shrink if he told them how adorable he found you right now.

If you were this wild while fighting, he could only imagine how riled up you would get in bed.

Fuck, you might have just unlocked a new kink in him.

Catching his breath as he watched your friend drag you away into the distance, he heard a slow clap to his left.

Farleigh was leaning on the corner – his smug expression making it clear that he had seen the whole thing – as he looked at his cousin with a bemused expression before walking toward him and giving a sympathetic pat on his back.

“Well,” he started to break the tension, “at least you know her name.”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, “I know her name.”

And he knew that you smelled more like the paints on your brushes than the books you carried with subtle notes of gardenias.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @barbiedragon, @valeskafics, @lexyysworld, @punkiwiki, @saltburnedme, @arcielee

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future Saltburn fics!

[angel-sweets666]

Cast me spell

Barbarian bakugo x witch afab reader

warning : smut

part 2

read part one here first before reading this, then it will make more sense

a/n I’ve heard your prayers and I’m writing part 2 bc I’ve been asked to. I genuinely didn’t think this fanfiction would actually be good to read bc I don’t think I’m a good writer but some people like it and I’m going to try and get better. I downloaded grammarly so I could get better at writing for you guys

You slept well that night, cradled in the arms of a certain blonde barbarian. Bakugo kept you safe as you lay on his chest, his hand tangled in your hair. You whined softly and buried your face into his broad chest, his skin scattered with scars. Carefully, you traced the marks with your fingers. "Can I try something?" you asked softly, looking up at him with big doe eyes. "Yeah, go ahead, darlin'," he replied groggily, his voice raspy and deep. Your index finger began to glow as you pressed it against a scar that stretched across his chest. Suddenly, the scar began to glow around the edges and slowly closed up, starting from the left side and moving to the right. Bakugo watched in awe. Witches could do magical things, but he didn’t think they could do this! He looked down at his chest, then back up at you. "How did you do that?" he asked, puzzled. You snickered and placed your head back down on his chest. "Magic…" you murmured.

Bakugo accepted your answer and stared up at the ceiling. The silence was comforting, not awkward at all. He rubbed your back soothingly, occasionally tugging softly at the ends of your hair. He smiled down at you and kissed your forehead. "So… will you take me up on my proposal?" he asked.

"Didn't I already answer that?" you replied.

"I want an answer when you're not all sexed up, a sober answer," he said, his voice serious.

"Oh… then… yes, I will marry you." It felt like a big step to be honest, but to him, this was completely normal. It was a part of his culture. Perhaps it was strange, but this was what he knew. Maybe you could understand him better if you did this? You reached up to play with a lock of his blonde hair. It was soft, but it was clear he didn’t take great care of it as you picked pieces of dirt from it, probably from all his time at war and hunting.

"You will…?" he asked, needing to be sure.

"Yes, I will." His face lit up and he grabbed your waist, suddenly standing and spinning you around. You squealed in excitement, wrapping your arms around him for security. He slowly placed you back on your feet. "Sorry…" he murmured.

Many preparations were made for the wedding of the future chief. After this marriage, Bakugo's parents could step down, allowing Bakugo to step up. Becoming the chief was a big deal to him since it was all he was expected to be; it was what he was raised to be. Knowing that it was so close was… scary to him. He would have many responsibilities, and so would you. He was expected to be strong for his tribe, to protect them and keep them in line. You were expected to cast spells for the tribe because you're a witch, in addition to fulfilling the usual expectations of a spouse to a chief.

The day of the wedding arrived with the tribe bustling with excitement and activity. The air was filled with the sound of drums and chanting, a rhythmic melody that echoed through the forest. Colorful banners and decorations made from woven fabrics and wildflowers adorned the central clearing where the ceremony would take place.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the area , you stood at the edge of the clearing, dressed in a traditional gown made from soft, flowing materials and adorned with intricate beadwork and feathers. , your fingers tingling with the familiar hum of your magic.

Bakugo stood at the center of the clearing, dressed in ceremonial garb that highlighted his powerful physique. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, he looked angry most days however his gaze held a softness meant only for you.

The tribe’s shaman, an elderly woman with wise eyes and a staff decorated with charms and bones, began the ceremony. She spoke in the ancient language of the tribe. As she chanted, the flames of the central bonfire danced higher, casting flickering shadows around the clearing.

You stepped forward, guided by a gentle push from the shaman’s assistant. Bakugo extended his hand, and you took it, feeling the rough calluses of a warrior against your soft skin. Together, you walked to the center, where the shaman held a bowl filled with sacred herbs and oils.

With a nod from the shaman, you and Bakugo knelt before the fire. She anointed your foreheads with the oils, muttering incantations . The flames flaring brightly and then settling into a steady, calming glow.

Next, she handed you a small, intricately carved knife. With steady hands, you made a small cut on Bakugo’s palm, and he did the same to yours. You pressed your palms together, allowing your blood to mingle—a symbol of your unity and shared strength. The shaman wrapped your hands in a strip of cloth, binding the wound and sealing your bond.

As the final words of the ceremony were spoken, the tribe erupted in cheers. Bakugo leaned in and pressed a fierce, tender kiss to your lips, sealing your union. For the rest of the evening, the tribe feasted and danced, sharing stories and laughter under the starlit sky. You and Bakugo remained close, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

you showed the tribe witch craft, potion making and doing spells, but the night of the wedding was mostly partying and drinking, youyou and bakugo stayed sober however. You two spent most that time dancing and leaning on each other, cuddling and kissing. Even after knowing each other for such a short time you seemed to be happily in love. The night was over before you knew it and you two were walking back to your hut, he couldn’t keep his hands off you the whole walk there. His hands groping you, your face turning pinker with each grab and caress. The moment you were inside of your tent and in your own space he picked you up by the under arm and threw you on the bed “why are you so pink? This is was spouses do on their wedding night~” he leaned down and kissed your neck, you whimpered and grabbed his hair. The space between your legs feeling a familiar warmth or… wetness..? He grabbed your thighs and massaged them with each kiss and suck of your neck, he left purple hickeys all around the side of your neck. He reached down between your legs “already so wet huh..?” He slowly got down on his knees, sitting himself right between your legs “want me to keep going..?” He asked “mhm…” you nodded, giving him consent. Bakugo pulled you by your hips towards his face, licking your clit softly. You moaned and grabbed the bed sheets under you, he managed to slip his tongue inside which only intensified the feeling. Bakugo used his hands to keep your legs apart, the buldge in his pants getting larger and larger. He began to get impatient and stood up, pulling away from your pussy “hey… why’d you stop..?” You whines before he slipped a finger inside “wanna… be inside you” he grumbled, you moaned softly at the finger wiggling inside of you “is that good…?” Bakugo cooed to you “mmmph.. nghh.. y-yea…” you reached down and gripped his wrist. Feeling him slip a second finger into your hole, you held tightly onto his wrist. He slowly pulled his hand out and stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting you on them. “Good girl, that’s a good girl.. tell me when it hurts” and before you know it, bakugo had the tip of his dick at your already wet hole and was slowly pushing inside, he groaned and laid his head on your chest. Gripping your thighs tighter with each inch that was sinking inside you, he bottomed out and he paused to catch his breath. Bakugo pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into your pussy, you moaned loudly and buried your face into his shoulder in a attempt to muffle out the loud noise of your voice, the huts don’t exactly drown out loud noise… he put his hands over your head for balance, the bed shook with each thrust and he was grunting lowly ontop of you “is that good…? That’s what I thought” he smirked and pet your hair “my wife..” he leaned down to kiss your head “ good girl..take it like a good girl” he pressed his forehead against yours as he continued his deep thrusts into you, the pleasure resulting in moans and grunts from you two. After what felt like hours of teasing and pleasure, the knot finally snapped. He buried his cock deeply inside you and then came. He panted softly, bringing you to his chest “you did so good, I’m so proud..”

[lila-went-missing]

I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.

[myeagleexpert]

Throw wood on the fire ( PT 2 )

Pairing: Tim Drake/Red Robin x YN AFAB Warning: yandere fic, toxic relationaship, he's possessive, you're stubborn, obsessive, emotional manipulation, yandere Tim, baby trap , oral s*x, nsfw (pt 2) Summary: You  and Tim have always been soulmates, but it's so suffocating that you've reached your limit. It's time to break up with Tim. (Pt 1) Note: Reader is described and represented as YN or as "You" because, grammarly, I'm trying to adapt the text so that it is more harmonious! Eng is not my mother language, so often the way I write does not relate to the translator and I have to translate most of my works manually. Therefore, thank you for understanding!

The room is still tense, but it smells of refreshing relief like the ground after the rain. He sits comfortably on the gray couch, pulling YN close to him.

He wraps an arm around her waist, snuggling comfortably against her body like a safe haven. He grabs the TV remote, looking for a movie to watch. Tim quickly scrolls through the titles on the screen, trying to find a movie that interests him. He goes through several titles before finding one that you both share a common taste.

Timothy selects the movie, placing the remote on the coffee table. Then he settles even further on the couch, pulling you to snuggle into his chest. Not that he cares about the movie, he just wants to be by your side. The vigilante almost has the idea that the safe haven is something temporary, as if it could collapse at any moment, as if a storm could return at any moment despite the clear weather. He spends the movie stealing kisses from you, kissing you on the head, showing all the affection and love while holding you against his chest. You are used to it, and you decide that you have lost today's battle.

Tim seems almost desperate to show all his affection, kissing your head, face, neck and any part of your body he can reach. He pulls you closer, wrapping you in a possessive hug while the movie continues to play on the television. He has one eye on the TV and the other on you, trying to memorize every detail of your beautiful face illuminated by the light of the scenes. He doesn't seem to have any intention of letting you go any time soon, taking the opportunity to show everything he is feeling for you.

As the movie goes on, Tim continues to show his affection, his kisses and hugs becoming more insistent. It is as if he is desperate to make up for anything he may have done wrong in the past, wanting to show you how much he loves you. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours as he continues to cover you with kisses and caresses.

"Tim… Pay attention" you laugh in the middle of your caresses Tim seems almost irritated at having been interrupted in his caresses hiding in your neck, but he quickly gives in, a slight blush on his cheeks.

He leans slightly against the couch, finally turning his attention to the television screen. However, he can't resist wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close as he tries to watch the movie. You roll your eyes at his failed attempt to disguise that he still wants more, you can feel his pout on your neck.

"I didn't say stop" you laugh again and pull him into a kiss Tim is taken aback by the gesture, but he quickly gives in to the kiss, wrapping an arm around your neck to pull you closer.

He returns the kiss enthusiastically, his tongue sliding inside your mouth as he deepens the kiss. He seems almost desperate for more, his body clinging to yours as if trying to hold you there. As the kiss deepens, Tim pulls you closer, his hand sliding down your body to grip your waist. He pulls you onto his lap, sitting you in front of him as he continues to kiss you passionately. He seems completely mesmerized by your touch, his hands exploring your body as he tries to hold you closer to him.

This is no longer Red Robin, but a boy desperate for more contact, his hands roaming your body as he kisses you. He finally breaks the kiss to breathe, but he quickly returns to your neck, nibbling and kissing it desperately.

“I want you,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want you so bad.”

As Tim continues to kiss and caress you, he seems almost out of control, his hands roaming your body relentlessly. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening as he tries to press you even closer to his body. He kisses you on the mouth again, his gesture almost possessive as he tries to demonstrate all his desire for you.

"I" "Love" "You", Tim says between pretty moans.

"I love you too," you answer, forgetting about the previous situation, just surrendering to your boyfriend's passion, letting yourself be consumed by the burning fire between your legs, blinking with desire.

He grabs you tightly, pulling you completely onto his lap as he tries to keep you as close as possible. He seems almost desperate for contact, his hands roaming your body as if he can't be satisfied. You take control of the situation and kiss and nibble Tim's neck, returning his desire with passion as you explore his beautiful body, leaving a trail of fire wherever you go.

As you kiss his neck and bite it, Tim moans with pleasure, his hands shaking slightly as you explore his body. He tries to contain the desperate desire he feels, but it's almost impossible with the way you're touching him. He tilts his head back, giving you full access to your neck as he tries to control himself. You accept his invitation and give a delicious suck on the Adam's apple on his neck and whisper in his ear

"Did you know, I love you too?" you nibble on his earlobe and massage his shoulders sensually, delighting in his breathing as he quickens and grabs my hips. Tim moans again at your gesture, his body shaking with desire as he tries to maintain control. When you whisper in his ear, his breathing quickens slightly.

He places his hands on your hips, almost grabbing you as he tries to maintain focus. When you bite his earlobe, he moans again, softly, and closes his eyes. As you massage his shoulders, Tim seems to tense up even more, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He tries to control himself, trying to stay focused on your actions, but it's almost impossible while you're touching him like this.

He tries to speak, his voice hoarse and full of desire. "I love you," he murmurs, his eyes still closed. "I want you so much."

"You look so tense and stressed, my love." You say, kissing him again as you massage his shoulders. You slowly bite his inner lip, watching him look at me with desire, completely at your mercy. As you kiss him and massage his shoulders, Tim moans softly, his voice shaking with the gesture. He tries to respond, but any words he says are lost in another moan as you bite his inner lip. He opens his eyes to look at you, and his pupils are completely dilated with desire. He looks almost vulnerable as he watches you, as if he has been completely dominated by you.

You feel a tent growing bigger and bigger down there and you decide to tease him there too. Tim tries to speak again, but his words come out broken with desire and lack of air. "You…" he tries to say, but his voice trails off. "You make me…" He can't finish the sentence, his eyes desperate as he tries to recover. He grips you tightly, pulling you closer as he tries to deal with the emotions coursing through his body.

You start to grind on his lap, creating more friction between our bodies and my hand slowly slips under his shirt. "I make you what, hmm?"

As you start to move on his lap, Tim moans softly, the gesture sending waves of desire through his body. He tries to respond, but his words are lost in another moan as you slip your hand under his shirt.

He tries to compose himself, his eyes closing as he tries to deal with the pleasure caused by his gesture.

"You make me desperate," he finally answers, his voice shaking. "And desperate for you."

Tim tries to pull you even closer, his hands sliding up your thighs and under your shirt as he tries to keep you firmly against his lap. The gesture creates even more friction between you, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He tries to compose himself again, his breathing heavy as he tries to say more words.

"I love you… I want you so much." "I love you Tim, I want you too."

As you tell him you love him, something ignites inside Tim, it's like you throw fuel on the fire and a raging flame takes over the room. He turns into something almost feral, pushing you down on the couch as he straddles you.

His hands grip you tightly as he kneels between your legs, his gaze desperate as he watches you below him. He's panting, his eyes almost wild with desire as he tries to control himself. As you try to pull him closer, Tim almost loses control. He moans softly, his voice almost a growl as he watches you, almost out of it.

"I'm trying to control myself," he murmurs, his voice shaking with need. "But you're not… helping me." "Please… Tim," I moan softly as he looks down at me, his hands playing inside my shirt.

As you moan, Tim nearly loses control. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to stay clear as his hands roam over your shirt, a quick thought of ripping it off immediately passing through his mind.

He tries to respond, but his voice comes out shaky and hoarse.

"You're teasing me," he murmurs, his voice a moan. "How do you expect me to control myself?"

"I wasn't expecting you to control yourself." You blink at him.

As you blink at him, Tim moans softly again, his body shaking with desire. He leans closer, one of his hands braced on the couch while the other slides further under your shirt.

"You're trying to tease me," he murmurs, his voice almost desperate "And it's working."

He stands between my legs and takes off his shirt and then asks me to take off mine, taking the opportunity to take off my bra and immediately going down to attack my neck while massaging my breasts.

“You are so beautiful, my beautiful….. and only mine.”

He goes down kissing the valley of my breasts while his mouth attacks one of my nipples, adoring the region with licks and sucks while rubbing my hip against his, leaving me with a gasp of breath.

“Timothy…”

He rests two hands on your back making them lean towards his mouth, and he gives my chest a particular bite that makes it arch more while I hold on to the couch for balance.

“T-Tim!”

“Yes, my sweet?” he asks repeating the same action on the other nipple making you let out a louder moan

“Play nice.”

“I can't resist you like this… I want to devour you completely…” he sighs looking into my eyes while the kisses go down my belly to my skirt. “I love it when you wear a skirt.” He smiles, immediately lifting you up and pushing your panties aside and giving you a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

“T-timy…! Take it easy…!” You bring your hand to his dark hair, trying to make him go slowly.

But the vigillante is too focused to answer you, desperate to make you trust him again, wanting to prove to you that he will make you the happiest person in the world and what better way to start than by worshipping you between your legs like his faithful follower?

But it's different from usual. Normally, Tim Drake would take a delicious time preparing you with kitten licks and shy sucks…. But Tim Drake's state now is uncoordinated, with no technique whatsoever, just the desire to consume you piece by piece, wanting to drink all the juice you give him, to get addicted to your taste again and again…..

In the middle of almost drowning in your legs as you reach the fastest climax of your life, a brilliant idea crosses his mind:

She can't leave me if I get her pregnant.

Tim quickly opens his pants and pulls down his underwear, not having the patience to take everything off while he gives a few pumps on his erect and hot member already lining up at your entrance.

She's going to need me.

"Tim…. the condom…" You almost forget, but when you feel the tip touching your entrance it's like a reality check.

She can even get a divorce later, but she won't be able to get rid of me completely.

He thrusts in with a quick movement that leaves you breathless, a silent moan on his expression and Tim smiles as the pieces of the plan fall into place in his mind.

We will be together forever.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 1:

Secrets hidden in plain sight

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

Warnings: mention of domestic violence and abusive relationship. Reader is married and has a son.

Summary: Spencer meets the son and wife of one of the police officers they are helping at the moment. There's something strange about them.

You could swear that William had made it his life's mission to turn you gray as soon as possible. You couldn't look away for a second and he'd disappear into the crowd. To make matters worse, you were at the police station to drop off your husband's lunch, which he had forgotten at home. You planned to drop it off and leave as quickly as you could, as the whole atmosphere always made you uncomfortable, but it wasn't as if you felt comfortable anywhere.

You knew he had to be somewhere in there, so you started searching the rooms as quickly as possible, passing the other police officers who were looking at you in confusion and trying not to let despair take over. William was safe in there. It wasn't because Steve's colleagues looked away when you appeared injured that they would do your son any harm.

You just prayed you'd find William before Steve did, or you'd never hear the end of how you didn't take care of his son properly. The son he barely remembered he had, even though they lived in the same house.

"Willy? Willy! Thank God!" you exclaimed, seeing your little 5-year-old son's head from afar and approaching at a fast pace. "Don't ever do that again, William! You've got me worried to death!"

The boy at least had the decency to look embarrassed as he whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were his mother I would have taken him to you," a voice said.

That's when you became aware of the presence of a strange man, one you'd never seen in the police station before and who wasn't wearing a uniform. Tense, you stood in front of Willy and looked at him suspiciously. He was tall, with brown curls adorning a face that would have made you blush if you were still at college, but at the moment, he was the suspicious man talking to your son.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and showed you his ID. "Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. We're helping with the case of the missing girls."

Spencer avoided frowning when he saw that even your identity didn't completely reassure you, you still looked as tense as before, even though you were no longer hiding your child behind your body. Being a profiler, he couldn't help but analyze other people, focusing on the way you looked tired, with dark circles under your eyes and your skin pale in an almost unhealthy way, your long-sleeved shirt being too hot. You didn't seem to be attacking him, you seemed to be defending yourself. As if you genuinely believed that Spencer was going to hurt you. It was strange.

"Mom, he's a wizard! It's incredible!" William exclaimed, attracting their attention.

You turned your focus away from Spencer for a moment, giving your son a weak smile as you stroked his hair, even though you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Um..." Spencer began, and you turned to see what he was going to say. "I thought it would be a good idea to distract him with magic tricks, you know? While I couldn't find his parents."

Forcing yourself to relax, you took a deep breath before flashing your most genuine forced smile at the FBI agent.

"Thank you for that. He's so hyper."

"No need to thank me, he was a great stagehand."

The doctor's smile seemed genuine in a way you hadn't seen in a long time and it almost unsettled you. You didn't like that, you couldn't have predicted what would come next. With Steve, you almost always knew what to do. When to send William to his room so he wouldn't see anything that would traumatize him, when to apologize, and when to stay silent. Spencer Reid was a valley of strangeness that you decided you hated.

"There you are! I thought you weren't coming." You heard the grumble of that familiar voice, the heavy footsteps coming closer and closer and you had to remind yourself that he wouldn't do anything in public.

"I was just... a little late."

Spencer knew exactly how to recognize fear when he saw it. It was an instinctive reaction, the immediate shudder when she heard the voice of the policeman approaching the three of them. The man was part of the search team he had been introduced to earlier. No one worth paying much attention to so far.

"Dad." William spoke, much more withdrawn than before, albeit with a small smile on his face.

Reid understood what he was doing; the boy was waiting for an instruction from his mother. He had seen enough tense family dynamics in his life.

When you left, going out with Steve - your husband, probably, the rings matched - her gaze met Spencer's again. What he saw there made any explanation unnecessary.

- Hey, Reid. Come and look at this. - Derek called out.

Distracted by work for the rest of the day, Spencer still couldn't get his gaze off his head. It was empty. Without any kind of hope. Without even the desperation that would at least indicate that you were trying to ask for help.

"Morgan," he said at a random moment in the day, making his friend turn to him, "how often do you think women accept abuse at home because they have children?"

Derek snorted.

"In my experience? All the time."

That made his stomach sink.

In the next chapter: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

[redroomreflections]

Let It Linger

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

9/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha raises Nicky on her own.

Note: I think I spent a total of nine hours on this chapter today. I wanted this one to be out immediately after the other one. 'Twas hard editing and Grammarly hates me but we got it.

There were boxes. So many boxes and bags she needed to pack into this quinjet. Apparently, she was better at multitasking than she thought as Natasha loaded up another item up the ramp. She eyed the pile of bags and boxes stacked by the entrance of the house, each one a piece of the life she was trying to keep together. There were essentials: clothes, supplies, and every scrap of familiarity she could gather for Nicky. But even so, packing felt like she was gathering remnants rather than carrying a life forward.

Natasha hefted another box onto her hip, balancing it while she reached to open the hatch on the Quinjet. She’d been working nonstop, only pausing to check on Nicky, who was perched near the ramp with Stella's stuffed shark clutched in his hands. He missed his sister. He toddled around the quinjet, picking up rocks, and patches of grass, attempting to stuff them into his mouth.

"Nicky, no, don't put that in your mouth," Natasha gently scolded. The toddler dropped the blade of grass and gave her a look that reminded her of you. That look tore through her every time, spurring her to work faster, to keep him distracted, safe, and normal—even if she didn’t know what “normal” looked like anymore.

“There we go,” she murmured as she placed the box inside, taking a deep breath before straightening up and dusting her hands on her pants. “See? Told you we’d fit it all.”

Her words fell flat in the empty cargo bay. She glanced around, looking for Nicky. A bolt of panic shot through her as she caught sight of him toddling away from the jet.

“Nicky! Stay near the jet!” Natasha called her voice firm but gentle, a note of weariness woven through it.

But as always, Nicky was determined, his little legs carrying him farther down the hill, his gaze locked on the swaying trees at the edge of the clearing. She cursed softly under her breath and jogged after him, scooping him up just as his fingers reached out for the grass. His small face crumpled, the beginnings of a pout forming, and he squirmed, his hands grabbing at the air, trying to clutch the grass he’d been reaching for.

“No, baby, it’s not safe,” she said firmly, tucking him close as he fussed. She forced herself to look away from the tree line. He didn’t understand, but she did. There were too many memories lingering there, places she couldn't risk letting him wander.

Nicky’s lip quivered, and his small hands gripped her collar in silent protest. She sighed, cradling him closer, and kissed his forehead, murmuring, “I know. I know, buddy. We’ll be home soon.”

She walked him back to the jet, where the boxes and bags were already stacked and waiting. Nicky’s weight against her shoulder was steady, grounding—so unlike the lightness and emptiness she felt inside. He was growing quickly, each day a small reminder of time slipping by. He’d be two soon. How had it already been three months? Three months of hollow silence, of talking to him in soft whispers, of answering questions she knew he was too young to ask but that he felt in his own way.

“Almost done, buddy,” she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat, but her voice cracked. She turned back to the house, and with him still clinging to her, walked through the door one last time to grab the last bag. Standing there in the doorway, she felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, the faintest echoes of laughter and warmth still lingering in each corner.

With a deep breath, she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced around. She was carrying everything she could now, every piece of what you'd built, gathered together in the small world she’d assembled for Nicky and herself.

“You’re getting heavy,” she murmured to him with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Nicky settled his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching at her sleeve as if he knew she needed the comfort more than he did.

It was time. They couldn’t stay here any longer, in a place so haunted by the memories of you. As much as it hurt, she knew returning to New York was the only path forward. The only way to find you. There were no resources here in Missouri. The compound had everything she needed. Natasha began to walk distractedly back to the quinjet, lugging the bag and Nicky effortlessly. She set him down, noting that he was following her, as she placed the bags into the bay. As Natasha slid the last bag into the Quinjet, she heard a faint jingling sound behind her. Her first thought was that Nicky had gotten hold of one of her empty holsters, and she was about to gently tell him to stay back. But then her voice caught in her throat as she turned around and saw it: a large, powerful-looking German shepherd standing a few feet away, intently sniffing in Nicky's direction.

Her body tensed instinctively. The dog was big, with a thick, well-muscled frame and the kind of alert gaze that signaled sharp intelligence and strong instincts. Natasha stepped forward slightly, inching closer to Nicky, her body a barrier between him and the strange dog.

“Hey there…” she said quietly, her voice steady but wary, as the shepherd lowered its nose toward Nicky, taking in his scent. Her eyes darted between them, ready to scoop Nicky up if the dog showed even a hint of aggression. But instead, the dog took a step closer and gave a short, chuffing sneeze, his head cocking to the side in an unexpectedly endearing way.

Nicky let out a tiny laugh, his hands reaching toward the dog without hesitation. Natasha’s heart lurched. Nicky had never been afraid of anything, and this was no exception.

“‘Mama,” Nicky said excitedly, his face lighting up. “Doggie!”

The dog, apparently pleased with the attention, let out a gentle huff and pressed its nose into Nicky's small hands, tail swishing low but wagging softly. Natasha exhaled slowly, her hand resting protectively on Nicky's back as she took in the scene.

“Alright, I guess you’re friendly,” she muttered, unable to keep a faint smile from creeping into her expression as she watched Nicky's chubby fingers grasp at the dog’s fur. The shepherd sat back on its haunches, its gaze moving between Nicky and Natasha as if patiently awaiting a command. "Where's your owner?" Natasha asked.

She scanned the area, her body tense, her hand resting on the knife strapped to her thigh under her pants, but saw no sign of anyone else. It didn’t make sense. How had the dog managed to get out here on its own? Of course, the house wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere but he'd have to walk far on his own.

The dog seemed content, its gaze flicking back to Nicky. Its tail thumped softly, and a low whine rose from its chest.

"Mama, doggie," Nicky giggled again.

"I know, the dog is nice but he can't stay," She shook her head. "We have to go. C'mon, kiddo."

Nicky looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, his little mouth turning down in a pout.

"Do we have to?" she groaned, knowing she'd lose this battle.

Nicky clapped his hands and squealed, his voice rising into an excited babble, and the dog let out a soft huff.

"What's your name?" She reached slowly for the dog tag. She squinted, holding the small piece of metal closer, but it was faded. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make out the words etched there.

"Ollie?" She tilted her head.

The dog stood and stretched, its large body shaking. It gave a gentle bark, its ears flicking as it regarded Natasha.

"Alright, okay, we can keep you for a little while," She nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner. She carried Nicky over to his car seat, ensuring he was strapped in. Natasha watched as Ollie hopped into the seat beside him and rested his head in Nicky's lap, just beside the stuffed shark.

She was almost surprised when Nicky didn't fuss or try to wriggle out of his restraints. Instead, his small hand tangled in the soft fur at the top of Ollie's head, and he looked at her expectantly. As if they knew each other their whole lives. Natasha smiled to herself as she took her place in the pilot's chair, running a last system check before taking off.

She could have sworn the dog looked right at her, its head cocked, its ears swiveling toward her. She felt a sudden wave of sadness, her fingers tightening around the controls.

"Don't worry, buddy," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "We're going home."

*********

Natasha paused just outside the glass doors of the compound, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip. Nicky’s tiny hands clung to her jacket, his gaze curiously drifting over the building as if sensing it was different from the small home they’d left behind. She'd forgotten that he had never been there. He hadn't known her life as an Avenger. It felt like a lifetime ago.

It was different now. Emptier. The building was quiet and dark, save for a few lights here and there. The once-busy hallways were now nearly silent. No footsteps echoed against the tile, and no voices or laughter broke the stillness. The air was cool and smelled faintly of food. Someone was cooking.

The sound of claws tapping against the floor made her look back. Ollie padded up behind her, his tongue lolling out in a panting grin, his tail wagging softly.

"Okay," Natasha muttered walking further into the compound. "We're home, Nicky."

He made a small, inquisitive noise and buried his face against her shoulder, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket.

In the kitchen, Tony and Pepper sat together at the counter, sharing a quiet dinner. They were deep in conversation, their voices low, but Natasha caught glimpses of concern in Pepper’s expression as she leaned closer to Tony. They were discussing something serious—she could tell by the way Tony was fiddling with his coffee mug, brow furrowed.

The sound of her footsteps made them both look up. Tony’s mouth fell open for a beat before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Natasha!” he exclaimed, his voice somewhere between delighted and bewildered. “And...a kid?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tightened her hold on Nicky, who watched Tony with wide, curious eyes. “This is Dominic.”

Tony blinked, looking from her to the toddler and back again. “Is he...yours?”

“He’s mine,” Natasha replied softly, her tone steady but carrying a weight that only those who knew her well could understand.

"Did you steal him?" Tony asked. He barely flinched at the pinch Pepper given him under the table.

"No, Tony, I didn't steal him," she muttered.

"But you've been gone for—"

"He's my son," She cut in, her tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Pepper's expression softened.

"It's nice to meet you, Dominic," Pepper's voice was soft and calm.

Nicky made a soft noise and tucked his head against Natasha's shoulder, shy and uncertain.

"This is Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony," Natasha murmured to him. "They're good people."

Tony and Pepper exchanged a brief look.

"He's a mini you, Nat," Tony said quietly, a small smile creeping into his expression.

"I tend to think he looks like my wife," Natasha shrugged. You did birth him after all.

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he blinked at her in shock, trying to process the words.

“Your…wife?” he repeated slowly, looking at Natasha as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

A flicker of emotion crossed Natasha's face—something softer, something mournful. She glanced down at Nicky, brushing a gentle hand over his hair as he burrowed closer to her shoulder.

“Yes. My wife,” she confirmed quietly, her voice laced with a kind of bittersweet strength. “He takes after her, you know—especially the smile.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Pepper reached to cover his hand with hers, gently squeezing his fingers. "And the dog?"

"I stole him," She said.

Tony chuckled softly.

Natasha was suddenly exhausted. It was too much, too fast. She needed space. Space to breathe, space to process, space to be with her son. She shifted her weight, and the motion drew Ollie's attention.

"He's been a good help," she murmured. "Dominic's not fond of long rides. Usually y/n would sit with him and help him sleep."

“Oh, Natasha…” Pepper murmured, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Natasha gave a small, tight nod. “It was…before all of this happened.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the compound as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “After the snap, I…didn’t know what else to do. And I thought maybe…coming back here might help us.”

Tony cleared his throat, clearly still processing. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re both welcome here, Nat.”

Nicky peeked up at Tony, his shyness momentarily forgotten, and Tony gave him a little smile and wave. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your Uncle Tony, and we’ll…work on getting you into the best tech school money can buy.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, some of her tension easing. “One step at a time, Tony.”

He held up his hands, conceding, and gave a small chuckle. "You must be hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," she admitted.

"Sit. I'll get you both something."

"I don't think he'll eat anything."

"He's gotta eat something," Tony waved a hand. "I made steaks."

"You cooked?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes," Tony shot her a glare. "And you're welcome. Pepper and I have been taking turns, but it's not as if we have a chef."

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Sit, Nat. I'll get you both something," Pepper said softly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze shifting to Nicky. Before Tony could ask more questions, Steve stepped into the kitchen. He was sporting some serious five o'clock shadow and his hair had grown at least an inch.

"Nat?" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He was frozen to the spot.

"I thought you might have run off to Europe again," Natasha commented.

"I, uh, have some business here. Wanted to be back if things changed," He answered.

"I'm glad you did," she said, a sad smile forming.

"How's Nicky?" Steve asked.

"Wait? You know him? You knew about him?" Tony brought a plate of food to place in front of Natasha.

"I did," Steve shook his head."I met him when I went to get Nat and her family," He shrugged.

"Family?"

"Yes, Tony. Family. Y/n is my wife. Nicky is our son." Natasha clarified. "Stella is...she's our daughter. She's three."

"But you were gone," Tony said. "A lot. Here with us. Like all the time."

"I took breaks, Tony. And yes, I was gone a lot. That's why we bought a house. Y/n could stay home. It was easier than having a nanny or putting Stella in daycare."

"Oh, uh. I didn't know," He murmured, suddenly realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came for a drink," Steve said, grabbing a bottle of water and backing away.

"Steak, Cap?" Tony called.

"I'm good, Tony," He waved.

"You could stay," Natasha suggested.

"I don't want to intrude," Steve said.

"You won't. Nicky needs someone to keep him busy. Ollie will only entertain him so much," Natasha chuckled.

"Ollie?" Steve looked confused.

"Our new dog. He found us before we got here."

Just as he sat down, Nicky reached for Steve, his tiny arms opening and closing. Natasha's heart lurched. He was looking for a connection with the only other person he knew. Steve scooped Nicky up, placing him on his lap, and began to speak to him in a low, quiet voice.

"So," Tony clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "What did this wife of yours look like? How did you meet her?"

Natasha took a bite of her steak, chewing it slowly, letting the silence draw out until Pepper gave him a look. "She was a former SHIELD agent."

"She was?" Tony was confused.

"Yes," Natasha nodded.

"When did you meet her?" Steve asked.

"Tony, I really think we should discuss something else," Pepper told him gently. She could see the tears forming in Natasha's eyes.

"Like what?" Tony was oblivious.

"Tony, she lost her family," Pepper scolded.

"Right," Tony backed down for once. His curiosity was evident.

"Tell us about him," Pepper gestured toward Nicky.

"He's stubborn," Natasha smirked. "Just like his mother. And he's brave, and he's smart."

"We're going to get them back Nat," Steve said firmly. She wished she could believe him.

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

The days had started to blur together, each one folding into the next in an endless cycle of searching, planning, and hoping. Natasha clung to Steve's words with everything she had, holding onto the idea that somehow, she’d bring you and everyone else back. She pushed herself to the limit, reaching out to anyone and everyone—Okoye in Wakanda, Rocket and the Guardians, and even a scroll of world leaders. Every door opened led to another closed one, and yet she kept moving forward, refusing to believe that all hope was lost.

But being an Avenger, a relentless force in her search, wasn’t her hardest job. Every time she returned to the compound after a long, fruitless day, her hardest job began: being a mother to Nicky. He’d started speaking more, toddling around the compound, exploring every nook and cranny. His laughter resonated down the quiet halls, moments of brightness in an otherwise somber world. Yet there were days he grew frustrated, looking around as if he knew someone was missing but couldn’t understand why.

Here they are in their suite just the two of them and Ollie. Ollie watched with slight interest, one ear raised, as Natasha placed a single cupcake in front of them on the coffee table. Finding it had been a challenge—most bakeries in New York were still struggling to recover, their shelves often bare and their employees long gone. But today was special. Today was Nicky’s third birthday, and despite everything, she was determined to give him a good day.

The cupcake was modest but beautiful, topped with a swirl of frosting and a single candle flickering gently in the still air.

“Look what I found!” Natasha exclaimed, leaning closer to him with a playful grin. “It’s your very own birthday cupcake!”

Nicky clapped his hands and giggled. "It's my favorite color, Mama."

"Red," She smiled, her fingers gently tugging on his ear.

"Like Mama's hair."

"Yes, like Mama's hair," She kissed his cheek, pulling a box of matches from her pocket.

"I'm three," he added, holding up three fingers. "A big boy."

"That's right, baby," She lit the candle and started singing, her voice quiet and slightly raspy.

As the song ended, Nicky squealed and bounced up and down in her lap. "Make a wish, sweetheart," Natasha whispered.

Nicky looked at the flame for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Do I blow it out, Mama?"

"Yes, that's what we do. We blow it out."

"And then we make a wish?"

"Yep."

Nicky stared at the flame, his chubby hands resting on Natasha's forearm, and let out a short puff of air, the flame wavering and sputtering out.

"What did you wish for?" she murmured.

Nicky grinned. "A basketball."

"You like basketball?" Natasha's brows rose.

"I wanna play basketball," He told her.

"Maybe when you're bigger, kiddo," She chuckled softly.

Nicky nodded, his attention moving to the frosting. Natasha quickly swiped some off the top, and he eagerly opened his mouth.

"Good?" She asked.

He gave an enthusiastic nod. "More, Mama."

She obliged, wiping more frosting onto her finger, and he giggled as he took it from her.

"Okay, you need a bath after this. Then we can play with your new toys," Natasha said.

Nicky paused a smudge of red frosting at the corner of his mouth. "Can we watch more videos of Mommy and my sister?"

"Yes, we can." She kissed his cheek, her heart twisting with pain and joy."Happy birthday, Nicky," She murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. She reached for the phone, found the birthday video you'd taken in France, and played it for him.

"It was so nice to celebrate your birthday here, baby. Look at you. You're so big." Your voice sounded from the speakers.

Tears sprang to Natasha's eyes as she watched. She was doing the best she could, but nothing could replace you. It was only a matter of time before Nicky understood the situation fully.

"That's my sister," Nicky said excitedly as Stella stepped into the frame.

"Yes, that's your sister," Natasha agreed. "She's a good big sister."

"Where's Stella and Mommy?" He asked quietly, his tone hopeful.

Natasha's chest tightened. She'd told him many times that you were away, and she was working on bringing you home. It was a lie that grew harder to tell each time he asked. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up.

"They're away right now, Nicky," Natasha answered gently.

"How come they're not here?"

"Mommy and Stella are in another place," Natasha explained, brushing her hand over his hair. He really needed a haircut. "It's far away."

"Like a trip?"

"Sort of," She nodded, not sure how to continue.

"Are they coming home soon?"

"We're working on it," She said, swallowing hard.

"Can I play with Ollie now?" He asked.

"Sure, honey. He's been waiting for you."

Nicky scrambled from her lap, his small body moving across the room. The dog stood and stretched, shaking his fur before padding toward the toddler.

"Be careful, okay?" She warned him.

Nicky was already on the floor, his fingers tangled in the dog's fur. Natasha's eyes turned back to the video.

Natasha watched you scoop him into your arms, your laughter loud and carefree, his giggles infectious. Her heart twisted in her chest, aching. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, her gaze turning toward Nicky. He was sprawled on the floor with Ollie, the two of them engaged in an intense game of tug of war.

She loved him enough for the both of you. 

********

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Natasha found herself lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and the unending search for answers. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of what they had lost, but she held onto hope, even if it felt threadbare. This was year three.

The morning light streamed through the window as she sipped her coffee, the mug warming her hands. Today felt different, though—a change was in the air. She sensed it even before Steve arrived with his suitcase in hand, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Nat,” he greeted her, his voice steady but soft.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug down. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I found a place in Brooklyn.” His smile was filled with sadness, but he tried to mask it.

“Oh,” Natasha said, feeling a pang in her chest. Steve had been a steady presence, a support system when everything else felt chaotic. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my own space,” he admitted, glancing around the suite that had become their makeshift home. “I think it’ll be good for me. For all of us. It's been three years since the snap."

Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat, her fingers tightening on her mug. Three years.

"And I...I can't stay here any longer, Nat," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing the past.

She understood. The compound held memories, good and bad, and for Steve, those memories were a constant reminder of his lost love. Tony and Pepper had announced their pregnancy shortly after she moved in and had gone lakeside with their newborn, Morgan. For the past few years, it's just been the three of them. It became routine to have Steve at lunch or dinner.

"I get it," Natasha nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

"But, hey," he added, trying for a more upbeat tone. "I'm not too far. I'll be back to visit. And I'm still working on finding a way to bring them back. We'll get them back, Nat."

"I know."

"And you're welcome at my place any time."

"Thanks, Steve," Natasha managed a small smile. "And thank you. For everything."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, pulling her into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured.

"I will," he assured her. "And don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open."

"I'll remember that," she gave a soft laugh.

Steve lingered a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Something else?" She prompted.

"No, no," Steve shook his head.

With that, he was gone.

**********

Natasha was truly alone now and she found herself stretched thin. Every answer she'd gotten only led back to square one. There was no getting you back. There was no coming back from this. Today was one of those days. Nicky was being particularly stubborn, a trait he had inherited from both her and you. He had spent the morning refusing to pick up his toys, ignoring her gentle reminders to tidy up.

“Nicky, please,” she said, her patience waning as she knelt beside him. “We need to clean up before we can play outside. You can’t keep leaving your toys all over the place.”

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes mirroring your defiance. “No! I wanna play with Ollie!”

Natasha felt frustration bubbling inside her. “You can play with Ollie after you clean up. That’s the rule,” she insisted, trying to maintain her composure.

Nicky scowled, his little fists balling up, and stomped his foot. “No!” he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want to!”

The defiance ignited something deep within Natasha, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Nicky, I need you to listen to me. This isn’t just about toys; it’s about helping each other. We’re a team, remember?”

Her son shook his head, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "I want my mommy!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "You're no fun."

"Well right now you're mommy's not here," Natasha swallowed. "I'm here and I'm telling you to pick up your toys."

"No," Nicky muttered, his stubborn streak on full display.

"Fine," Natasha snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "If you want to act like a baby, then I'll treat you like one."

She stalked away from him, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and dropping it on the floor.

"Go sit in time out," she ordered.

"No, Mama," Nicky whimpered.

"Time. Out."

"I don't want time out."

"It's either time out or the naughty step," She said firmly.

"No," he shouted, his tiny fist hitting the pillow and knocking it off. "No, no, no, no." He yelled.

"Dominic," Natasha's voice was sharp, her gaze hard. "Stop that right now. I am your mother and you will obey me."

"You're mean," He muttered, his cheeks flushed.

"You're the one being mean right now," she pointed out. "Now sit down and stay there until I say so."

"You don't tell me what to do," He screamed. "I want my other mommy, not you."

His expression remained resolute, and Natasha could feel her temper flaring. “You’re ruining my life!” she snapped before she could catch herself.

Nicky recoiled as if she had struck him, his eyes welling with tears, and for a moment Natasha thought he might apologize. But then he was crying, his tiny shoulders shaking, his face scrunched up with emotion.

Ollie let out a soft whine, nudging his head against Nicky's leg.

"Nicky," She breathed.

"You don't love me," He cried, his arms wrapped tightly around the dog.

"Nicky," Natasha repeated, moving to kneel beside him.

"You don't want me."

"Nicky, no," Natasha said softly, her heart breaking at the sound of his sobs.

"You wish I wasn't here."

"No, no, Nicky."

"I wanna go back to Mommy," He hiccuped, his tears still falling. Nevermind the fact that his memories of you were fleeting and few.

"Nicky, look at me," Natasha tried, her fingers gently tilting his chin up.

"No," He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Please," she pleaded.

Nicky met her gaze, his eyes filled with tears and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated. You can't say those things. That's not true," She shook her head.

"Then why?"

"Because," She started, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your mommy is gone and I'm trying so hard to bring her back. I'm sorry baby. Listen to me."

"You yelled," He accused.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"My ears hurt."

"I'm sorry. Here," She pulled him onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him. "Mama's so sorry. Baby."

Nicky buried his face against her shoulder, his small hands clinging to her shirt. "Mama," He hiccuped, his fingers tangled in her shirt.

"Baby, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," She sighed.

"You're not mad?" He mumbled.

"I'm not mad," She reassured him, kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can. Okay?"

Nicky nodded.

"You know I love you so much, right?"

"Yes."

"And your mommy loves you. So much. She would be so proud of you. Okay?"

Nicky let out a shuddering breath, his fingers clutching her shirt.

"You're my boy," She murmured. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

***********

The streets of New York City were eerily empty as Natasha walked along the sidewalks. It had been a long time since she’d ventured out on her own, without Nicky by her side. She had left him with Steve, knowing the six-year-old would be safe and entertained while she took a moment to breathe. The city felt both familiar and foreign, a blend of memories and shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind.

Though she’d tried to hold onto hope, there were days when it slipped through her fingers like sand. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly as she took in the skyline, the towering buildings standing as a testament to resilience—something she desperately needed to muster within herself.

Her feet carried her toward a small bar tucked away between two larger establishments, the neon sign flickering in the dim light. It seemed inviting, almost like a refuge from the overwhelming world outside. Natasha hesitated at the entrance, her fingers curling around the door handle, but then she pushed it open, her boots landing on the worn floorboards.

A handful of patrons occupied the tables, their heads bowed and voices hushed. No one seemed to notice her as she approached the bar, the bartender polishing a glass and humming softly to himself.

He glanced up as she sat down, a half smile playing on his lips.

"What can I get ya?"

"Just a beer," she replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding it toward her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long swig.

He leaned closer, his eyes appraising her. "I don't mean to be nosy, but you look familiar."

Natasha tensed, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter.

"I knew it," he smiled. "You're an Avenger."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just needed a break," she admitted, her voice low.

"From?"

"Everything."

"Sounds rough," he commented.

"It's been a rough few years."

"Tell me about it," the bartender shook his head. "This whole snap thing has really shaken up the city."

"You can say that again," Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her beer.

Sensing that she needed to be alone he left her to her thoughts. As the bartender walked away, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on a woman seated a few stools down. The woman was alone, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a book resting on the counter beside her.

"It's Harry Potter," The woman held up her book. "Dorky right?"

"Not at all," Natasha smiled.

"I'm Nora," the woman offered her hand.

"Natasha."

"You're an Avenger," she grinned.

"Guilty as charged."

"You guys are heroes."

"Thanks."

"How's that going?"

"Honestly, I've had better days," Natasha laughed bitterly.

“Is this seat taken?” Nora asked as she moved closer.

"All yours."

"So, what's an Avenger doing at my local dive bar?"

"Just trying to clear my head," Natasha answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Natasha took another swig of her beer, the alcohol burning her throat.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"There's not much to talk about," Natasha sighed. "My wife's gone. I'm raising our son on my own. The rest of the team has split up, and I have no idea what's happening."

"Oh, wow," Nora's brow furrowed. "That's heavy."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I'm sorry," Nora gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It is what it is," Natasha shrugged, downing the last of her beer.

"Here," Nora offered her a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

"I shouldn't," Natasha hesitated.

"You should. Trust me. It helps."

Natasha accepted the shot glass, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

"I don't want to seem weird, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"And if I didn't want you to listen?"

"Well, I can be there for other things too," Nora smirked.

Natasha met her gaze, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, you can."

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Not at all," Natasha laughed, her mood lifting.

"Wanna get out of here?" Nora suggested. "My apartment is down the street."

"Lead the way." She gestured, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Am I really doing this?” Natasha wondered silently, her thoughts racing. She hadn’t intended to meet someone tonight, let alone flirt with them, but something about Nora's easy demeanor and infectious laughter drew her in. It had been ages since Natasha had allowed herself to entertain thoughts of connection beyond her role as a mother and an Avenger. Was this just a fleeting moment of distraction, or could it be something more?

Nora led the way down the street, her long strides effortlessly navigating the sidewalk. Natasha followed closely, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Nora’s presence. “This way,” Nora called back, her voice light and inviting.

As they walked, Natasha couldn’t help but replay the evening in her mind. The shot had loosened her inhibitions, allowing her to share more than she had intended.

“Are you always this quiet?” Nora asked, glancing over at her. She took Natasha's hand in her own. A presumptuous move.

Natasha smiled, enjoying the feeling of Nora's hand in hers.

"I'm on the third floor," Nora narrated as they took the elevator to hr apartment.

The door opened into a cozy space, the lights dimmed and the scent of cinnamon lingered in the air.

"So this is my humble abode," Nora announced, her hand gesturing around the room.

"Nice place," Natasha commented, her gaze lingering on the bookshelf and the photographs decorating the walls.

"Make yourself comfortable," Nora invited, slipping her shoes off and tossing her jacket onto the armchair.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled, sinking into the sofa and resting her head against the cushion.

Nora settled beside her, a glass of wine in each hand.

"So, do you frequent that bar a lot?"

"More often than I'd like," Nora admitted. "But you didn't come all the way to my apartment to get to know me."

"No," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her wine. "I didn't."

It's almost as if Nora instantly knew what she needed or assumed she did. She straddled Natasha's lap and moved to kiss her. Natasha turned her head.

"I'm sorry I just.." Natasha shook her head. Nora doesn't take offense. She simply nuzzled Natasha's neck. It's there Natasha allowed her to place a kiss.

"You smell so good," Nora murmured, her fingers brushing through Natasha's hair.

"Thanks," Natasha breathed.

Nora's lips brushed over her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Natasha leaned into the touch, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Nora said softly.

"No," Natasha assured her. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

Nora returned the smile, her fingers tracing patterns on Natasha's skin.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"So are you," Natasha replied, her fingers tangling in Nora's hair. Nora's kisses continued on her neck as her hands worked Natasha's belt buckle.

"Nora," Natasha gasped.

"Relax," Nora breathed.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"We're moving fast."

"Too fast?"

"Maybe," Natasha sighed.

"You can tell me to stop."

"No, no, it's okay," Natasha insisted. "I just...need a minute."

"Of course," Nora smiled, her fingers trailing along Natasha's jawline.

"You're not like other people I've met."

"How so?"

"You're..."

"Charming? Sexy? Funny?" Nora teased.

"I was going to say sweet," Natasha smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You miss your wife," Nora sighed.

"It's almost five years,"

"And you haven't been with anyone since."

"No, I haven't."

"You're lonely," Nora said, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," Natasha admitted. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"It's fine," Nora assured her. "I understand."

"Thanks," Natasha said.

"Are you hungry?" Nora asked.

"Starving," Natasha replied.

"Good," Nora smiled, standing up and offering her hand. "I've got leftover pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Natasha laughed.

They ended up eating the pizza on the couch, their knees touching as they chatted about everything and nothing. All Natasha needed was a friend.

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

Natasha sat on a bench, watching Nicky play. He was growing up fast, his hair now cascading past his shoulders, and he was lanky and tall for his age, nearing seven years old. It was hard to believe how quickly time had passed since the Snap, and that he was already older than Stella ever was.

Nicky dashed around, his laughter ringing out like music, as he chased after a group of pigeons. He had taken a liking to animals, a trait he had most definitely inherited from you, and was always eager to see whatever was running around the compound.

Natasha chuckled, her gaze fixed on her son.

"He's getting big," a familiar voice called out, making her turn.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Can I join you?" Steve asked, motioning to the empty space beside her.

"Of course," she scooted over.

"So how are you holding up?" He asked, settling down.

"I'm alright," Natasha replied.

"Just alright?"

"You know," she shrugged.

"It's getting easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Living without them."

"Steve," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just wanted to check in."

"No, it's fine," she waved off.

"I'm here if you need anything."

"I appreciate that," she smiled.

"You look happier," Steve observed.

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I feel better," she admitted.

"Good," Steve smiled. "That's good."

"Mama, look," Nicky called out, showing her the pigeon perched on his arm.

"That's great, buddy," she smiled.

"I'm gonna name him George," Nicky declared.

"Okay," she laughed. "We're going to double wash you during bath time."

Nicky frowned, his nose scrunching up.

"It's true," she nodded. "You don't want George to give you a disease."

"Oh," he sighed. "Alright."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mama."

"Be careful," she reminded him.

"I will."

Nicky ran off again, the pigeon and Ollie following behind him.

"It's getting late," Natasha commented, glancing up at the darkening sky.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Good, I'd like the company."

"Glad I can be of service," Steve laughed.

They watched in silence as Nicky played, the sky streaked with pink and purple hues. He was the only real memory she had of you. She'd cherish him forever.

---> next part

[jamesleecult]

James lee x gn!reader : In case you come back one day.

The reader rants about their past relationships experience on a song comment section they recently listened to.

note: James kinda ooc(?), attempted to angst. I was planning to make it like the reader view, like their feelings then what happened(flashback or smthg idk) but I’m lazy. Not proof read, I’m bad. Reader kinda still hung up, if you squint enough I’m kinda listening to a sad song rn. Bold font for the typing and the italicized for flashback. (Plottwist dg wrote the song and saw the comment lol) with the help of Grammarly.

During the midnight hour, their finger danced across the keyboard, each keystroke echoing in the quiet room. Blending with the faint whirr of the glowing screen with melody’s in the background.

The sounds of the faint tapping on the keys stopped, few moments later - a sound of clicking can be heard as they began to typed again.

I've met it fresh and hot, it was years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Actually, I've been walking so far that I can start again with someone else, but in my heart I secretly ask a question. Do I really still have a spot left for him?

In their distant and hazy memories, They shared soft whispers and laughter, the gentle breeze carrying their words like secrets through the air. With each stolen glance and faint smiles.

Or always ask myself that do I love the person in front of me equally to that person. Until now.

In the dimly lit ambiance of their favorite spot, he sat across from them- on the side, his demeanor cool and composed, concealing the turmoil within. They sensed a distance growing, a chill settling in the air.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice steady, devoid of emotion, easily making their pulse quickened, a knot forming in the stomach.

"I met a lot of people, but in the end, no one can replace you." Right into the hook. I realized, I didn't intend to hurt the person infront of me.

“What’s wrong?”

I just want myself to try and start again, but now I understand that.

“This,” the red haired boy, he gestured subtly between them, “isn’t working anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

I did never stop loving or stop missing him at all.

Confusion etched across their face, so many questions left unanswered. He met their gaze, his eyes holding a depth they couldn’t fathom.

“I’m leaving.”

I wanna say something in case, even if I never get the chance to tell him.

“Leaving? Why?” Panic rising within them making their heart skipped a beat.

“I can’t stay,” the tall boy stated firmly, his tone unwavering. “It’s not safe for you.”

They searched his eyes for answers, finding only resolve. “Not safe? What are you talking about?—That’s not true. We love each other. We can work through whatever it is!”

I got so many questions that was never answered, you left with no room for me to ask further more. What’s happening? Did I do something wrong?

As they spoke, he looked away, sighing at their persistence. Unable to meet their gaze. “No, you don’t understand. I’m.. I’m dangerous.”

Their brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “What do you mean, dangerous?”

“I can’t explain” he said, his voice barely a whisper in disappointment. “But you need to trust me. You need to let me go.. there are things you don’t know about me. Things that could put you in danger if I stay.”

Their mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. “But I don’t understand. We are together, we love each other- why are you leaving me with just.. short explanations?”

Then you just disappeared for no reason. I couldn’t find you, as if you were gone.

“…farewell.”

And with that he just walked away, coldly stood up- leaving them sitting there, alone with nothing but unanswered questions and a heart heavy with sorrow.

I still have a spot left for you in my feelings, always will be the one for you, In case you come back one day.

After hours of uninterrupted typing, they finally halted, their hands hovering over the keyboard as they took a moment to gather their thoughts. Pressing the final key—

The soft click of the laptop lid echoing in the now silent room.

[bitchface24-7]

HIS CONCUBINE(S) - VIKTOR X READER + JAYCE

synopsis: you followed Viktor to Zaun as he heals the ill and hurt from their pain. You’re his best friend, one of his partners, and now you’re a concubine. You're also Viktor’s right hand, the second leader of the commune. You couldn’t ask for a better life.

warnings: suggestiveness, getting walked in on, persuasion (damn, there goes this timeline), Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (+ Jayce 😏)

p.s. again, this came up in conversation with @darlingmel (they changed their user) our convos are wild. If anyone wants to chat and fan girl/boy about arcane and our lovelies, I'm all for it :)

This wasn't expected. Everything that occurred before this very moment wasn't expected. But it’s nothing you'll ever complain about.

You two have built a commune, a safe haven for the people of Zaun. As Viktor heals them of all illness, aches, and pains. He's all powerful, he's kind, he's inspiring.

He's yours.

When he left the lab you secretly followed him. He caught you, obviously and quietly asked, “Why’d you come with me?”

You easily replied, “Because you need me.”

And he didn't refuse. He didn't deny it, and with that, you two made a safe spot for people who just want to live their lives in peace.

Viktor's changed a bit, but you still love him. It’s a bit staggering sometimes, but when it’s just you two it’s like nothing changed.

Except for the fact Viktor is much more touchy now.

A hand wrapped around your waist, on your hip, a hand gripping your bicep, your thigh. His hands moving up and down your sides, your back, a hand casually placed between your thighs.

The two of you are showing more skin than ever before. Viktor with his blanket dress held together with leather straps and a pin, you with your loose bottoms that sinch around your waist and cover your genitals, your legs completely exposed, with a small loose top to match.

Everyone knows your importance to The Herald. Your place at his side.

Everyone knows you're his partner.

Your other partner is about to find out as well.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The two of you are making out like teenagers in your shared space of the commune. Groping and caressing each other desperately, Viktor takes off your loose shirt and gazes appreciatively at your chest. He flicks a nipple and you gasp in pleasure, he can’t help but smirk at you.

“So sweet for me, so needy. So perfect.”

You grind your hips against his and appreciate his body, his smooth purple skin, the metal bits attached to him, his tiny waist, his long hair.

The two of you are so consumed in each other that you don't hear someone enter your space, until you hear a gasp and a massive crash.

The two of you pull away quickly and look to the side, and see someone you didn't think you’d ever see again; it’s Jayce.

And he's gapping at the two of you.

“Jayce, you came.” Viktor states, his voice smooth and happy. You look to Viktor and he nods as you get off his lap, his handmade gown undone and pooling at his tiny waist; his chest bare for the world to see.

You casually walk to Jayce, the only part keeping you modest being your loincloth. Your chest is exposed, your jewelry tinkling as you walk to your other partner, the one you thought despised you two. The one you thought was lost to you two.

“Jayce, you’re here! I never thought I'd see you again!” You exclaim as you rush up to hug him. He's dirty, smells a bit off, and looks exhausted.

He's still handsome.

He slowly hugs you back and you feel him shiver as your shoulder gets wet. Oh… he's crying.

That won't do.

“Come with me, let's get you cleaned up.” You say sweetly as you guide him out of the commune, slowly tying your top back on. Jayce looks over his shoulder to stare at Viktor, who just lightly smiles at him and nods softly, “Go. I will be right here when you come back.”

Jayce goes without a fight.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You hum as you set the bath up, steam slowly spreading across the room. The scent is nice and light, a bit sweet as well. A nice mix of lavender and vanilla.

Jayce slowly undresses and hesitates when removing his leg brace, you help him and guide him into the warm fragranced water. He groans as he sits and appreciates the warmth of the water, helping his sore muscles.

“Do you need any help at all?” You ask quietly as you watch Jayce carefully, he looks at you and his lips thin in contemplation. “I can wash my own body. I'd need help with my back and hair though.”

You nod and hand him the soaped up cloth as he washes his arms, you get a cup and fill it with water, asking Jayce to tilt back his head; he does it easily.

A lathered hand of shampoo starts to massage his head and Jayce whines, pushing back into your hands, your eyebrows furrow, “What happened to you Jayce? You're different…”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you're not. You're tired, you're hurt, you're leaning into my touch like a cat appreciating the sunlight.”

Jayce sighs sadly, “I don't know. I fell into a cave, my hammer fell onto my leg, I felt like I was going insane.”

You quietly look at him as you rinse the shampoo out of his hair, adding conditioner, and taking the rag to wash his back as Jayce just sits there.

The silence is broken by a whisper, “What is this place?”

“This is a commune for peace. To be healed, cared for, to be hidden from the war.”

Jayce inhales sharply and looks to you over his shoulder as you rinse his back, “What do you all do here? I saw a garden and… a forge.”

You smile as you tilt his head back and clean his hair one last time, “We’re self-sufficient. We cleansed the soil for prime gardening, and we make everything ourselves.”

“Why a forge?”

“Because we miss you Jayce. We love you, and we wanted a reminder of you; even when you're not here.”

Jayce’s exhale is choppy at your statement, “You two looked pretty cosy.”

You laugh at his indignant tone, “No need for jealousy Jayce, there's only two people Viktor wants by his side, and the other finally came to us.”

Jayce looks at you like a kicked puppy as you lightly kiss his cheek, “Time to change your clothes. I won't let you wear those dirty rags anymore. Its time you experience some comfort after what you've been through.”

Jayce lets you dress him up like a doll without fuss before leading him back to the commune.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor truly hasn't move from his spot. He only gets up when he sees you and Jayce. He sashays toward you two.

“Come, relax. I believe a long sleep is what you desperately need Jayce.”

Jayce huffs a laugh as Viktor puts a hand on his shoulder, slowly crawling up to cup his nape. Running his fingers at the back of his head. Your hand is still clasped into one of his.

He slumps into the bed, and damn near passes out in milliseconds. His eyes peer open as you and Viktor take a spot on each side of the exhausted man.

Viktor is carding a hand through Jayce's hair as you trace his face lightly with the pads of your hand, dragging them down his neck and chest.

Jayce sighs in content as you two take care of him. He's needed this, desperately.

“Sleep Jayce.” Viktor quietly states as he plays with his hair, “We’ll be here when you wake up.” You sweetly add as you look to your other partner.

Jayce's eyes slowly shut as his breath evens out, the two of you don't stop lightly touching him until you're certain he's asleep.

“He came.” You quietly say, your voice tinged with awe. Viktor smiles lightly at you, “He did.”

“He’s staying.”

“He is.” Viktor consents to your demanding tone. As if he'd let Jayce leave. He's his other partner, he won't let him out of his sight.

Hopefully Jayce complies.

If not... You'll make him.

He belongs to the two of you after all.

😏😏😏 oh to be Viktors concubine as he's the herald.

p.s. Your outfit is inspired by Chel’s from “The Road to Eldorado” (2000)

[tiredofthehumanlife]

You know I'm something of an alt person myself

Barbie dolls: rosekiller x male! Alt! reader

Word: 1.1k

Summary: youre a pain in the ass to your two boyfriends during class

Warnings: my grammarly crashed and fucked like half the fic so it was grammar checked by a people, you're a little pain in the behind, very small amount of he him pronouns for r, it's not specific on what type of alt you are but Barty lightly bullies you, a couple of sex jokes but this is rosekiller so what were you expecting, Evan is kinda herding you and Barty in the right direction, you use Evs and Evie (ev-e) as Nick names for Evan so idk you like them or could just be trying to annoy them thats up to you, bad out of date joke that doesn't match the seventies, suck my big fat cock you absolute dweeb boofuckinghoo, mention of knives

Request: dude seriously I'm being serious stop snooping in my shit you are such a disrespectful roommate

History of Magic was so incredibly boring. Maybe it was something about the weird cold and yet hot temperature that made you feel like you should just roll over and fall asleep. Maybe it was the monotone teacher making your eyes droop. Maybe it was the frequent reading assignments that could not have more words.

Instead of pretending to pay attention, you decided to bother your two boyfriends. Unfortunately for them, they were sitting on either side of you so neither one of them was safe. You started by simply repeating Evan’s name over and over. He eventually stopped responding to you, keeping his eyes on the blackboard. You decided you had to take it up a notch, drawing cartoon penises in the margins of his work. Evan did not appreciate that. He took your pencil away, before stealing your eraser to scrub away your drawings.

You turned away from Evan to the other side. Barty was your next target. He had his arms crossed over his desk, head plopped on top. His face was hidden in his cave of nap-itude. You leaned closer to him, poking his arm over and over again.

“Babe.” you whispered, making sure the teacher couldn’t hear you even if he wanted to. Barty hummed in response.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” You kept poking his arm.

“Babe.”

“Yes?”

“Baby.”

“Yes, my love.”

”Babe.”

“What?”

“Baby.”

“What do you want, dickhead?” Barty lifted his head, shaking it to throw his hair back. You shrugged.

“Who’s hotter; Me or Evs?” You asked. Barty pouted and dropped his head back down.

"You know I can't choose, my dick stands for the both of you.” He muttered, turning his head away from you. You sighed, turning towards Evan instead.

“Evie?” Evan glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Are you going to ask me who I think is hotter; you or Barty?” Evan whispered, scribbling down a few notes. You scoffed.

“No.” You were. “How could you think so little of me?” Evan hummed, not giving you the time of day to entertain your ridiculousness. You tried to sneak away your pencil from Evan, earning a slap on the hand. Your hand shot back, deciding to leave it in your lap instead.

“So, my lovely Evan, what’s new with you? How are the kids? Such and Such, please entertain me?” You waved your hand in a circular motion. Evan shrugged, still silent.

“Evs, baby come on. You can’t possibly care about this class that much.” You said, poking Evan’s notebook. Evan sighed and looked up from his notes. He dropped his pencil onto his desk, before turning towards you. He reached towards your lap, taking both your hands into his.

“Please, baby. We have barely ten minutes before this class is over. Then I will entertain you to the fullest, I’ll do a full ballet routine if it means you stop drawing dicks on things. Okay?” Evan said, staring into your eyes. You sighed, rolled your eyes, and puckered your lips out in acceptance. Evan dropped one of your hands, cupping your cheek instead. He gave you a light peck before turning back to his work.

You spent the last few minutes of class annoying Barty. By the time class was dismissed, you were shooting out of your seat. Barty slowly followed after you, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Evan was the last to the door, packing up all his notebooks and pens. When he finally started moving toward you, you skittered out into the hallway. Barty waited for Evan, reaching his hand out for him when Evan got closer. Evan watched you jump up onto the stone bench. Evan's fingers intertwined with Barty’s.

“Don’t! It'll hurt!” Evan yelled after you. Your head snapped around. You waved him off, jumping from the edge of the stone bench. You might have underestimated the drop. Now that you were on the ground you were sure, that it most definitely hurt your leg. You grimaced, pretending like it didn’t hurt so Evan didn’t try to tell you he was right.

“Told you ” Evan whispered, though you still heard it. You grimaced, glancing back at him. You waited by the bench. They finally caught up with you. Barty swung his arm around Evan’s shoulders. You walked next to Evan, even though it was terribly slow at their dragging pace.

As you moved through the courtyard, you spotted a flower a few steps over. You gasped and lunged for it. You were pulled back by a magical force. You glanced behind yourself to see Evan dragging you away by your studded belt. You sighed, staying by his side again. Evan hooked his finger into your belt loop, keeping you close.

Barty slumped onto the common room couch and collapsed into Evan's lap. He didn’t get much sleep last night, he was a tad busy helping Regulus with his homework. You settled in front of the coffee table, accio-ing a stack of cards to keep yourself busy. Evan whispered your name, making you look up. He patted the seat on the couch next to him. You dropped the cards and plopped yourself into the seat next to him. He leaned towards you and kissed your temple.

“Thanks for giving me the last ten minutes of class.” He muttered, pulling you closer by slipping his arm between you and the couch.

“That class is just too boring.” You whispered, trying not to wake Barty in Evan's lap. Evan hummed.

“And yet you decided to pester Barty and not me, which I am grateful for.” You grumbled, not really wanting to say your welcome for not annoying Evan on purpose.

“Blah blah blah, that's what you sound like.” You retorted, ignoring Evan's repeated kisses on your face.

“I love you, my little pain in the ass.” Evan muttered to you, making you push his face away with your palm. Barty sat up and glared at you two.

“It is terribly hard to sleep when you two punks won't shut the fuck up.” Barty said, crossing his arms over his chest. Evan sucked his teeth. You glared back at Barty.

“You're one to talk about punks, Barty.” You pointed at him, pretending to start an argument. Even before you started dating, pretend verbal fights were a favorite pastime between you two.

“Yeah, okay. Mister ‘cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort’.” ; Barty said, holding a hand up to his face in dramatics. You frowned and clasped your hands together. Barty looked up when you didn't retort and pouted.

“No more knives as gifts for you.” You muttered and leaned back into Evan. Evan threw his arm over your shoulders, immediately welcoming you into his side. Barty groaned and flung himself across both of your’s laps. His head landed on your lap.

“I'm sorry, will you take me back? Pretty please, I didn't mean it.” Barty said, batting his lashes up at you. You hummed, scratching his scalp in response. Barty sinks into you, dropping his arm off the side of the couch.

He fell asleep not long after. You and Evan talked about your days in a quiet tone, actually trying not to wake up Barty this time., Eventually Dorcas walked through the common room and fake gagged at the pda on her way to her dorm.

[caraetdeul]

If It's All In My Head, Tell Me Now

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

The third time you forgave him.

TW: angst, angst, angst!!! Hurt/no comfort, somehow toxic relationship

A/n: third part is finally here! Hopefully I can finish this whole series before Scoups' birthday next week cuz I don't really want to celebrate it with this fic hurting my heart 😭 fair warning, this wasn't proofread in any way. it was just me and Grammarly against the world so I'm sorry if there's any discrepancies or mistakes throughout the story. Anyway, if you want to be tagged in the last part, feel free to tell me! Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

Btw, it can be read as gn!reader but there are descriptions of feminine clothes and things.

~Main Masterlist~ | ~Series Masterlist~

If you could sum up the last few days ever since you had that dinner date, it would be somber.

You never thought your relationship with Seungcheol would ever reach this point. In fact, you never even thought there was any chance of your relationship actually coming to a point like this. If someone were to come up to you a year ago and tell you that all of these would happen to you, you would’ve laughed in front of their faces and carried on with your life. That’s how much you trust the foundations this whole thing was built on. But now, seeing the cracks forming on the walls of your desolate home, you doubt if the both of you were ever on the same side of the fence in the first place.

Sipping on your coffee, you sat quietly in one corner of the cafe you stumbled upon on one Monday afternoon. You honestly had no idea how you ended up here as you lived on the other side of the town. But you really only have your wandering thoughts to blame when you decide to take a stroll to take your mind off of things. In which you clearly failed to do so based on your current predicament.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you first sat down. But based on how the lights from the restaurant across the street were significantly brighter than the dark skies and the fact that you started strolling when the sun was still shining down on you, it was safe to say that you’d been there for hours now.

Putting down your mug, your eyes wander to your phone on the table which has been left unattended ever since you sat down. You slowly reach out for it, trying your best to suppress the hope of seeing a specific notification pop up on your phone. But even then, you couldn’t help but feel the disappointment settle deep in your bones when you were faced with a dozen notifications, and not a single one was from him.

You sighed dejectedly, turning it off and putting it back on the table face down. Checking the time on your watch, you realize you haven’t eaten anything properly since breakfast. Thankfully, the cafe you were in also offers whole meals on their menu.

You then stood up from your table—thanking the heavens that the cafe wasn’t bustling at the time or else your table would’ve been stolen the moment you left it—and stepped in line with other paying customers. It wasn��t long before you reached the front of the line and finally got back to your seat with a receipt for your purchase.

As you waited for your order, you went back to staring out the window, ignoring the distinct ping of new text messages going through your phone. You continued nursing your almost emptied-out mug as you watched droplets of rainwater racing each other down the window.

You were in a limbo.

The grey area between life and death.

No up or down. No left or right. You can only move forward at this point but how do you expect someone to do that when you can’t even see ten feet in front of you. How can someone move forward when the comfort of the life behind you latches on to you with the promise of a life you’ve been praying for for as long as you can remember? 

But with the struggle of a drowning body, you gasp for air at the realization that maybe you were the only one grasping for any semblance of the previous life you once had with him. Maybe you were the only one in this relationship that has no clue of its inevitable demise while he was already safe and sound in a bunker house somewhere you don’t know. Maybe, hoping it’s a maybe, you were the only one in the dark as you tried to resuscitate the dying embodiment of your relationship when he had already signed the dotted line on a DNR order.

While your shaking hands and watery eyes were fighting with the urge to fall apart in the middle of an unsuspecting cafe, you could hear Seungcheol’s unburdened laugh echoing into your ears. You were then slammed with the thought that maybe you were losing it with the amount of caffeine you consumed throughout your stay. You were about to slap your face into reality when you heard his laugh again. This time, it was clear enough that you realized it actually came from outside the cafe and not from your muddled mind.

With wide eyes, you searched for him through the window. It didn’t take you too long before your gaze reached Seungcheol’s distinct figure across the street, internally grateful for the rain that minimized the number of people walking around at the time.

In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to be actually here right in front of you. By all means, you were pretty far from your home, and as far as you know, this was even farther from his place of work. But here he was, laughing with some of his friends in front of the restaurant.

Probably his coworkers, you thought, recognizing some of the faces that he was with. There were 4 of them entering the restaurant including Seungcheol and by the looks of it, they were probably celebrating something with the way they were patting each other’s backs with smiles plastered on each of their faces.

As if on cue, your order arrived just on time as your phone rang, your brother’s contact flashing through your screen. You thanked the waiter before answering the phone once she was out of range.

“Hey,” you answered, connecting your Bluetooth earpiece so you can continue the call while eating, “What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the news?”

Confused, you put your utensils down before replying, “What news?”

“Your little boyfriend just got promoted.”

Your eyes widened as shock and pride coursed through you. So that’s what that whole thing was about, you thought looking back to their group who were currently seated at the restaurant where you conveniently have a direct line of sight from your place at the cafe.

You focused back on the call, your lips curling into a smile as you replied, “Oh my God, that’s great news!”

“Yeah, I know!” he exclaimed, “The whole thing was honestly in the works for quite a while now and everyone’s just basically waiting on the announcement. So it was really only a matter of time before Cheol got promoted and now, it’s official!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. Your brother has been a big fan of Seungcheol ever since he started working alongside him. In fact, his random stories about him as you both nursed some wine after a long day were what made you interested in Seungcheol in the first place. So the night you invited Seungcheol to a dinner with the family as your new boyfriend, it was safe to say that your brother was probably the biggest fan of your relationship. So much so that you weren’t even that surprised when his usual “my little sister’s new boyfriend should be scared of me” talk was still filled with compliments towards his so-called idol. And as you listen to him rant about how much Seungcheol deserved this promotion from the other line, there is no doubt he is still his biggest fan.

“By the way, I’m about to meet up with him along with some of our coworkers to celebrate,” he shared, “You should come with us! I’ll text you the address.”

Swallowing the last of your food, you answered, “Oh, sure!” You heard your phone ding with the new message from your brother, sharing with you the location of the restaurant which was unsurprisingly the one across the street.

“Should I pick you up on the way? I’m already down at the parking lot,” he suggested.

“Oh, no need. I’ll just meet you up there,” you replied, hearing the sound of his car door closing through the phone call.

“Okay then, see you there. Love you!”

“Love you too!” you responded before hanging up. You finish up your meal as fast as you can, buzzing with excitement from the news. Scrolling through your contacts, you pressed call on Seungcheol’s contact. As the phone rang, you watched through the window as you waited for him to answer your call. You wait with bated breath as he finally looks down on his phone. From your point of view, you can barely see your photo flash through his screen when he silently presses the red button before going back to the conversation he was previously in.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you flinched away from your phone as you heard the automated response enter your ear from where it was placed before. You don’t know what to make of that. You swallowed down the undesired thoughts that you were struggling with just a while ago which were currently resurfacing. You decided then to finally stand up from your seat with your bag on your shoulder, crossing the threshold towards the cafe’s doors.

Stepping out under the night sky, it then dawned on you that you currently didn’t have an umbrella on you and the rain was pouring down harder than it was an hour ago. You looked around for anything that you could temporarily use as a cover but all you could see were the sign stand indicating today’s specials in the cafe and a trash bin near a lamppost. You debated whether or not you could borrow the sign for just a moment but decided against it. It was a really cute sign with flowers and manually drawn drinks all over it that you didn’t have the heart to ruin with rainwater and frankly, you weren’t in the mood to try and outrun any of their employees once they saw what was happening.

Taking a deep breath, you put your bag over your head before making a run for it. You almost slipped twice as you ran and you probably look like a mess now with your drenched clothes and your hair sticking to your body but you were just thankful that there weren’t cars speeding down the road at the moment. You then successfully managed to cross the street safely, puffing as you took cover under the restaurant’s canopy.

Making sure you were still decent-looking enough even though you could already feel the cold of the rain seep through your clothes, you were about to step into the restaurant when you were stopped by the scenario in front of you. Blinking, you stood idly as you watched the group before you. Between the time that you finished your meal and got out of the cafe, their group got bigger with more people joining them. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue for you as you’ve already met some of them before whenever you accompany Seungcheol at a company event, but right now, you were having a hard time accepting what was happening right in front of you.

You knew deep down that you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions because either way, you knew there wasn’t any desirable outcome from doing so. But seeing the way a woman was snuggled onto Seungcheol’s side and him not doing anything about it was certainly not helping your raging thoughts.

You immediately hid yourself on the side of the door, a panel of wall separating the huge window from the glass door. Glancing back inside, you bit your lip despondent at the sight of the woman laughing wholeheartedly at something Seungcheol had said, her hand reaching up toward his hair and sweeping the front strands away from his face. As if that wasn’t enough to destroy your heart, you watched with a shaky breath as Seungcheol faced her, the most dazzling smile gifted from him to her. The very smile you thought was only reserved for you.

Shock and betrayal were written all over your face as you slowly stepped away from the wall. The sight in front of you feels like a sticker on your favorite book with how hard it was to take your eyes away from it. You gripped your bag tighter, white knuckles showing as you felt the heavy downpour finally meet with your body once again. It was hard but you were finally able to feel your legs, enough to have the energy to walk away from it all.

You felt your lips quiver and your eyes blur with pain and heartache, the cold from the rain deciding to have a duel with the cold from your chest that was rushing through every part of your body. Fighting with their every breath to take the place of being the harshest thing to happen to you tonight.

But even then, both lost the minute your phone pinged once again with a new notification. It was a group picture showing Seungcheol in the upper right corner with his arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulder as everyone smiled, their happiness seemingly doing their absolute best to wrench the life out of you. You didn’t have any fight in you left to react to the picture. You can only shut your phone off and traverse your way back home with a heavy heart and ruined makeup.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hey guys, So a creator called me out recently, and that ended up bringing a lot of hate my way over the past few days. I’ll admit, it was rough. But what I didn’t realize at first was that he was getting a lot of hate, too.

We’ve actually talked now, and he turned out to be super chill. We’re good with each other, no bad blood at all.

Please stop sending hate to either of us. It’s not worth it. We’re creators, not enemies. Let's keep the space positive 💛

I know some people still have problems with him and me (honestly, at first I was kinda sad that so many of my moots were siding with him), but honestly, at the end of the day, there isn't supposed to be sides.

Honestly, for anyone who has a problem with my writing, mostly have a problem with my word count or headings again, as I repeat again and again (funny how haters want a response but never listen), I do use AI for my headings, HEADINGS, nothing else. Idk why people have a problem with my emojis? Like bro...

Yes my responses to some of your questions have mistakes because I am typing them out in a taxi on my phone at 11 pm without Grammarly (saves me fr tho) because how stressed out i am from school and all this shit on Tumblr

Tumblr is my safe space, and I'm sure it's his too, so you guys should just drop it because you guys arguing, sending us hate, is not helping us resolve this problem

[angel-sweets666]

teach me German

Krueger cod x reader

Krueger teaches his partner German, since Krueger is a Austrian

A/N KRUEGER IS SO UNDERRATED LIKE WHAT? (let me suck his dick)

warning: no warning, pure fluff

Krueger buried his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. He loved your scent. "You smell so good, Meine Liebe," he murmured.

"What does that mean?" you asked, rolling over in his arms to place his head onto your chest.

"It’s, uh, it means 'my love'," he replied, looking up at you with his chin resting on your chest.

"Can you teach me German? Austrian? German?" You went back and forth, unsure of the correct term.

"It’s Austrian German, close enough, hun," he chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Krueger sat up and placed you in his lap, guiding your legs to wrap around his muscular waist. "Okay… how much German do you know?" he asked as he began to rock your body gently, like a parent rocking their child.

"Not much," you admitted, resting your head on his broad chest.

"Ah, okay," he nodded, falling into deep thought for a moment. He then looked back down at you. "Let's learn the basics, huh?" He patted your thigh with his left hand.

"Okay, can you say… uh… 'Meine Liebe'? What I just called you?"

"Me-Meine Liebe?" you repeated hesitantly.

"Ja, that’s it. Good job," he nodded in approval. "Now, can you say… 'Mein Hübscher'?" He gave you something a bit harder.

"Huh? Say it again?" you asked, looking up at him.

"Mein Hübscher," he repeated slowly.

"Mein Hübscher," you said, though a bit sloppily.

"Good enough," he sighed, leaning back against the headboard of the bed you shared.

"Alright, let’s learn some sentences, shall we?" He grinned at you.

"Yeah… yeah, okay," you said, finding the confidence to try and learn more.

"Ready? Can you say 'Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz'?" he prompted, tilting his head slightly.

You hesitated. "What does that mean?"

"It’s what I think about you when I see you. It means 'I love you,'" he smiled, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Okay… Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz," you said, almost perfectly but not quite.

Krueger blushed deeply and nuzzled his face into your cheek. "That’s so sweet to hear, Schatz," he patted your back. "I’m proud of you."

He continued to hold you close, your bodies swaying gently together. "Do you want to learn more?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, I want to learn everything."

He chuckled. "Alright, let's start with some simple phrases. 'Guten Morgen' means 'Good morning.' Can you say that?"

"Guten Morgen," you repeated, your pronunciation improving with his guidance.

"Perfect. And 'Gute Nacht' means 'Good night.'"

"Gute Nacht," you said, smiling.

Krueger's smile widened. "You're a fast learner. Soon you'll be speaking like a native."

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his praise. "Thank you for teaching me."

"It's my pleasure, Meine Liebe," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "Now, let's rest. Tomorrow we'll continue our lessons."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and loved in his arms. "G’night , Krueger."

"Gute Nacht, Schatz," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

a/n I’m pretty proud of this! I obviously used grammarly so I could make it better but I’m happy w it!