#it brought up things his mind had repressed

[hexavexen]

here lil buddy have these. -gives 3 candied apples- One for you, one for the sad one and one for the angry one! Everything is better with yummy food

They're just in my head and don't eat....but I can. Thanks.

[dancingbirdie]

For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it. 

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk. 

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?” 

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him. 

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for. 

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent. 

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here? 

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here? 

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body. 

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain. 

“Tell me, darling.” 

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you. 

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. 

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist. 

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately. 

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused. 

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed. 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.” 

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead. 

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary. 

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised. 

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked. 

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes. 

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild. 

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted. 

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well. 

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition. 

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.” 

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen. 

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.  

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.” 

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want. 

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far. 

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state. 

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin. 

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way. 

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction. 

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.” 

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire. 

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.  

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while. 

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an Adult pt 3

Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Word Count: 3.3k

Description: R gets a girlfriend

It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.

After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. Lucy helped you figure out meals if you asked for them. Irene helped you stock and restock your pantry and cupboards throughout your house when you were stuck on what to keep multiple or spares of. Marta helped out with your schedule if you felt a little overwhelmed. They felt like they were checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.

And then you got a girlfriend.

Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.

Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.

“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.

“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.

“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.

“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”

“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.

“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.

You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x

L💚: By rselves? Like a date???

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??

L💚: Yes

L💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?

[Initial]💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3

L💚: Can’t wait 😁

The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.

You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.

“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,

“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.

A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!

“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed

“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.

“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.

[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......

L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......

After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.

“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.

“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.

“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.

“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.

“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.

Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.

“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.

“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.

“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.

“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.

“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.

“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.

“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.

“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.

“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.

[Initial]💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x

[Initial]💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x

L💚: ahahahahaha

L💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?

[Initial]💙❤️: Whichever u want x

[Initial]💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x

[Initial]💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey

[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x

L💚: Tell em

L💚: Can I tell my team?

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx

L💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!

L💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢

[Initial]💙❤️: ugh RUDE.

[Initial]💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x

L💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe

[Initial]💙❤️: so kind of u x

[Initial]💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x

“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.

“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”

“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.

“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.

You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.

“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.

“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.

You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.

“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.

“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.

“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.

“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.

“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked

“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.

“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.

“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.

“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.

“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.

“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”

“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.

“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”

“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.

You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.

“Does she treat you well?”

“Sí,” you answered honestly.

“Do you treat her well?”

“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena

“Can we meet her?”

“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.

“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.

“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.

“When is she coming to Barcelona?”

“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”

“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.

[Initial]💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x

L💚: WHY???

L💚: WHAT DID U DO????

[Initial]💙❤️: Alexia knows

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x

[Initial]💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x

L💚: I am dead

L💚: I am going to die

L💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????

[Initial]💙❤️: She wont kill u

[Initial]💙❤️: I wont let her xxx

[Initial]💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

[celestialtarot11]

Astro observations 🤍🐚

back with another astro post part 1000 (i dont remember how much its been) 😭 anyways yall, please enjoy and feel free to share your thoughts always! I had to go in deep with this one 👀 you know, its astrology

divider creds: @fairytopea

Venus conj. Saturn has been the biggest lesson for me in love. In the connection often with this placement, the venus person clings to affection and love in a codependent way. The saturn person may withdraw & avoid romance altogether, creating an unstable dynamic. Venus person eventually learns their self worth is much more than having to convince someone why they should stay with them :/

That being said so much has been learned from this synastry. I truly became a better person and decided who was right for me, and who wasn’t. It broke my heart but fixed my vision! 

Someone I know has someone else’s mars in her 12h. This manifested as instant attraction even though she was repulsed by him. She couldn’t explain why she felt this way. Its possible mars 12h can bring out what we feel interest in, despite our shame and guilt towards it. It often has to do with our trauma and being drawn to things we know initially aren’t good for us. Which begs the question: why? And thats where the healing begins.

To also add she had her Lilith conj his sun, which definitely brought out an impulse to explore what she thought was off putting. Lilith can make us go deep into our trauma and transform our beliefs from then to now. With the sun it makes sense her beliefs are shifting especially in relationships. Her source of power was repressed due to her trauma, but now this synastry could be a way to regain it.

So random but are Taurus/Libra males more likely to be uncircumcised 😭 #sorry just had to put the thought out there

Jupiter in virgo male can be great listeners and conversationalists. It can also make them cunning, sly and manipulative with their word. With what kind of information they choose to let out at the time.

Chiron in the 4h and not living with stable parents 🤝 trauma. This guy I know has this placement and does not live with his parents, he lives with his grandparents due to the instability in his home life. His mother currently has a boyfriend. Chiron in the 4h can make an individual experience lack of stable family connections at a young age. It can also represent a separation or divorce in the family, or even the native being kicked out or homeless at some point in their lives.

Mercury in Aries and either going from being super blunt and dry, to spilling everything on their mind no shame. A guy with this placement was very dry, enunciating every word he could to be “masculine.” This was his attempt at projecting a dominant figure, as he lacked for it physically (#this is an astro post sorry i gotta get in there) I feel like mercury in Aries could manifest as sounding boastful, arrogant and pretentious. Especially if they don’t have a high self esteem. But the other side of it: mercury in aries can spill everything personal of themselves lacking boundaries.

Gemini Lilith natives know exactly what to say and how to say it. They are efficient with their word and thoughts. Precise and intelligent. Once empowered they acknowledge the importance of words and communication, but if not they can manipulate, lie to their benefit, and distort information to hide the truth. Empowered Lilith knows to honor all perspectives and feelings.

Also gemini lilith is multifaceted. Bring up a topic and gemini lilith can easily talk about it, even if you didn’t expect to know of it. They are tenacious individuals who love to learn more, and question everything presented to them!

Depending on other aspects and placements but women with Capricorn placements and plutonian aspects in their chart are more likely to have a grunge, dark moody vibe to their outfits. Even their vibe is unmatched. There’s a woodsy, whimsical yet dark vibe to them you can’t fully describe or place. Especially if they have venus touching pluto those women tend to go for a moody, gloomy yet striking appearance! They may also prefer whimsical softer styles, and one day switch to a darker vibe to change things up. Venus=fashion. As a result of pluto cap women may go through many different styles and changes in order to find what suits them. And even then, cap women love to explore with their look! They shed their old skin to make room for more.

Taurus Venus men & Libra men I notice tend to be extreme in their looks. Some prefer their real body, not altered by surgery. This can go extreme in one way: do everything naturally to their body but expect crazy results. High expectations. And some of them prefer perfection as well and go for surgery. They want to be symmetrical, flawless, and yet convey this, “effortless,” look. Not overdone but just right. And it can manifest into something unhealthy by wanting to look perfect all of the time. Taurus/libra men can be hard on themselves physically to fit a standard or stereotype.

Meanwhile Capricorn men want to convey this minimalistic, daddy energy. 😭. Not sorry. Some of ya’ll actually dress like dads though. Capricorn men always try to look put together, simple, yet there’s a sense of luxury to them. Depending on their other aspects/placements to Venus, they can give off a warm vibe. For example someone who was my childhood bestie dresses like a dad but gives off dork energy, because he has Aquarius stellium and Sagittarius placements as well. So it really depends on the venus aspects!

Libra dominant men are the type to go from couch potato to hot millennial business dad for an event. The type to get you drooling. The type to catch you off guard when you least expect it. The type you’d probably roll your eyes at when they say they’ll actually dress up, and when they do you’re stuck for words.

Capricorn women and their playlist 🤝 comfort. The only thing that truly understands them deeply. The only thing they find themselves getting lost in rather than getting lost in a person. Because losing themselves to a person is much more disgraceful to them, than getting lost in something they put together themselves.

“I’d rather lose myself in the hands of something I made, flesh and bone than to give you my dignity, my vulnerability, my guilt.” -me, a cap moon probably.

Thanks so much y’all for reading! I really hope ya’ll enjoyed this. Please always share your feedback, I love to engage and hear it! You can also send asks my way if that works! 🤍 have a great one.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[too-much-tma-stuff]

No Body to Bury

This is a full dead spin off of another one shot I read about Danny being given flowers for his grave by a child.

-------

The Justice League had been working with Phantom for a while now, not consistently, but he showed up when they were dealing with something ~spooky~, and he’d given them a way to contact him. They called him in to consult, or to back them up sometimes because he was a bit of a power-house. At first they had thought the name was part of his shtick, after all his powers were ghostly enough and there was something satisfying about having a theme.

They had started to suspect something when the child citizen had given him flowers for his grave, and his delighted reaction. It could have just been a kid happy to get a gift, but it wasn’t, it was clearly more then that and Batman had had a flashback to one of Constantine’s crash course lesson’s on supernatural, the one on ghosts. Graves were very important to them, as were morning gifts like flowers and candles, whatever was culturally appropriate.

None of them knew where Phantom’s grave was, Batman had tried to find it, to find anything about the ghosts life and death, but there wasn’t much. Not before he became a hero in Amity park, so he could maybe guess that the other had died in Amity (if he had died), but there was no deaths that matched up with his appearance. The closest thing was a boy named Danny but he had gone missing years after Phantom showed up, and he’d never been declared dead officially. More was impossible to find, even after the GIW had been disbanded the information they had destroyed about the town couldn’t all be retrieved.

Since Batman didn’t know where Phantom’s grave was he couldn’t leave flowers on it directly which meant he had to actually give them to the ghost boy. It was a bit uncomfortable the first few times, and his kids made fun of him for being emotionally repressed but… it made Phantom so happy, and brought him closer and closer to Batman. He had already started to see Phantom as one of his kids, even if he knew he’d never get the ghost to come back to the manor. The gifts helped, he found that Phantom also liked to receive food, he even picked at it sometimes even though it seemed he didn’t need to eat. Sharing meals with him was a good excuse to actually talk some though, Batman would listen and eat his own food as Phantom picked at his and rambled about space, about recent fights he’d been in, and people he’d met.

Through all that Batman managed to learn more about the young hero, about what he valued, and what he did when he wasn’t being a hero. Apparently he spent a lot of time off world but exploring rather then being a hero to the galaxy. Batman had a feeling superman would be upset by that, that Phantom could be doing more good then he was and was choosing not to. But the ghost was clearly still a kid, or at least had been when he died, and he was plenty heroic, he didn’t need to be dealing with universal threats at maximum sixteen years old, Batman felt bad calling him in for the planetary threats, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

As they got closer Phantom started to let other things slip, that he’d had a sister, and a couple of close friends that he still watched over when he could. When Batman had asked if those people knew he was dead Phantom had fallen silent for a full minute and then changed the subject entirely, Batman hadn’t pushed it that time. If he had Phantom would have retreated, but as it was they kept having lunch together, and the boy let more and more slip. Including more stories about those friend he must have had while he was alive, it was during one of those that he let his name slip.

“So my sister said to me, ‘Danny you should-‘” his mind seemed to catch up with his mouth and he froze, Batman was still too but when Phantom started to fade from view he spoke up.

“Phantom, wait, why don’t we leave the tower and go somewhere private. We can talk secret identities, I’ll tell you mine too,” Batman promised, he thought it was the best way to make Danny feel better, besides he did trust Phantom.

Danny hesitated before fading back into full visibility and nodding, “Alright,” He agreed, looking very young and vulnerable. “Do you mind if I fly us down to earth? I’ll keep you safe from space,” He asked and Batman nodded, letting Danny grab his arms and phase them through the building and out. Danny flue quickly back down to the earth, the side facing away from the sun so it was the middle of the night, putting Batman down in the middle of an abandoned park, landing as well and going to sit on the swing set.

Batman followed, sitting down next to the young hero and trying hard not to think about Ace, another talented and powerful person who went through to much and died to young. Once he was sat down Bruce sighed and took off his cowl, showing his face to the other young hero. “I’m Bruce Wayne,” He said with a wry smile when he saw familiar recognition cross over Danny’s face.

“No way, that makes so much sense,” Danny cackled, which wasn’t the reaction Bruce was expecting. He’d ask about that later, instead he just gestured for Danny to introduce himself next.

“Danny Fenton,” the kid introduced, holding out his hand with an impish little smile. Bruce chuckled and shook it as if this was the first time they’d met instead of having known each other for nearly a year.

“I know that name,” Bruce hummed thoughtfully, back peddling a little when Danny tensed. “Sorry, worlds greatest detective and all, I did a bit of research on Amity Park when you joined us to see if I could track you down. I had ruled that out because your civilian identity didn’t go missing for two years until after you showed up as Phantom. Does that mean you’re not, well, dead?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck at the awkward question.

“Oh, no, I’m very dead,” Danny said with a bitter chuckle, pushing himself to rock on the swing a little. “But I didn’t die for a couple of years after I got my powers, not fully. I don’t think most people understand what it’s like to die twice,” He said, looking down, already pale hands going white around the knuckles with how tight he was holding the chains.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Batman said softly, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen, and I won’t break your confidence,” Bruce assured, they sat quietly for a few more minutes before Danny sighed and looked away.

“My parents were.. well probably best classed as mad-scientists. I loved them and they loved me but they were obsessed with ghosts and with discovery, it was always a tossup which was more important. I would join them in their lab to get their attention, and it was often my job to clean up after them. I ended up being micro-dosed on this stuff they called ectoplasm a lot which probably helped when the accident happened. My parents were trying to build a portal to the ‘ghost-zone’, what Constantine calls the infinite realms. It didn’t work at first, not till I stepped inside it, then it opened and it electrocuted me at the same time as flooding me with that weird glowing green ooze. It killed me and resurrected me simultaneously but not properly.

“Instead of actually bringing me back to life it bound my ghost back to my own body so I became the ghost possessing myself. That’s when I started working as a hero, while I was still partially alive.” He paused, swinging for a moment while Bruce stayed quiet and still, trying not to think about what Danny’s homelife must have been life, or how much it must have hurt to be killed like that.

“After a while the GIW showed up, they tried to catch me, but my parents had been trying to catch or destroy me as phantom for years. The GIW weren’t nearly as competent as the Red Huntress, so I avoided and ignored them. But I started to take it for granted and dismiss them, I didn’t pay enough attention, and they finally got the drop on me. I don’t want to talk about everything they did to me, but it was bad, and it was to much for my human half,” Danny stopped again and bit his lip, there was a hitch in his breathing that told Bruce exactly why Danny was hiding his eyes.

“Danny died, but it turned out that being half human was sort of holding back what I was capable of as a ghost,” He snickered with a little bit of bitter, vicious glee. “They couldn’t hold me anymore, all their little devices got left on my corpse when they forced me out and I destroyed the lab. After that I just… couldn’t go back to my life, it’s not natural. I died, they need to grieve me. That’s- that’s how it works.”

“And did they? Did you… get a burial?” Bruce asked, because he hadn’t seen anything about it in the news. His fear was confirmed when Danny took a deep breath and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t leave my body in the wreckage. I was worried… scratch that, I knew my parents would cremate me to try and keep me from coming back as a ghost, because they didn’t know I already was one. And that would weaken my connection to this world. I need to protect people, it’s half my purpose, I need a connection to this world.”

“Where did you hide it?” Batman asked, his breath catching when he saw Danny’s eyes flash a dangerous red.

“Why do you want to know?” He growled, bearing teeth that were sharper then they usually were. “You gonna give it back to my family for ~closure~? Destroy it yourself to curtail my power? I know Constantine is scared of me, he’d like that.”

Bruce immediately held his hands up in a placating gesture, of course Danny would be protective of his body. “No nothing like that Danny, I promise,” He said quickly. “But I just remember from what I’ve been told about ghosts, having a grave is important and, if you wanted, I would like to see you get a proper burial. It’s your body, you should get to control what happens to it but if you wanted a grave, a funeral, we have a protected graveyard for fallen heros. You’d fit right in,” He said with a uncertain smile.

Danny relaxed slowly, his eyes going back to green and his expression turning contemplative, looking back down as he thought about the offer. “Maybe… maybe,” He murmured. “It would be nice to have a grave, I’ve been leaving the flowers near my body in the ghost zone but… it would be nice to have a grave. I can feel the longing, the instinct. It feels bad to not have… have that, have something.

“But… I am scared. Would you be willing to- if you do an empty coffin funeral and burial for me, I’ll put my body in it, once the coffin is in the protected ground I can phase my body into it?” He asked, looking up at Batman worriedly and it was so obvious Danny was just a kid, a neglected boy who had been unlucky enough to die violently twice.

“Of course Danny, however you feel most comfortable,” Batman assured. Watching as Danny took a deep breath, more out of habit then anything, then nodded firmly.

“Then, I would like that. I know I am still here in a way so it feels weird having a funeral for me but, I still died, and I’d like to be remembered.” He murmured uncertainly.

“Of course, I understand. We didn’t get rid of my son’s grave when he came back because he still died. Being brought back, in any way, doesn’t really undo that,” Bruce sympathized, finally getting a small smile from Danny.

“Thank you Bruce, you’re a good guy. Now… do you need a lift back to the watchtower?”

“Yes please,” Bruce agreed with a sigh, finally standing up and pulling his hood back on. He had a funeral to plan.

"When we do have the funeral, can you ask your son to come? I'd like to meet him," Danny asked and Batman hummed, not sure how to explain the complicated relationship he had with Jason now.

"I'll try," He agreed, that was the best he could do really.

Part 2: here

[transhawks]

Why does everyone treat Hawks having always been an assassin as canon? I know he was brought in as a replacement for Nagant but as far as I’m aware there’s no actual proof he killed anyone before twice

You're right! We've never been explicitly told he has a kill-count of anything but 1 (rip Jin). However (honestly you knew this would make me actually write, didn't you?)....

1. The HSPC has changed (somewhat)

It's spelled out to us that Madame Prez wasn't like her predecessor. Her methods weren't as brutal, she was way into a war of information. In some ways, crueler. Kaina wasn't executed - instead she had her hair shorn and was defamed, humiliated.

Nagant assumes Keigo has been used like her. Horikoshi says Madame Prez groomed Keigo from a much earlier age than the middle school-aged Kaina so he had way less ability to leave or question (additionally, he was so sheltered from society and marginalized that he simply would have been incapable until he was an adult).

This is what the story says outright. So, yes, you're right - everything else is speculation. But then the question is why people believe this is canon outside of the typical abysmal literacy found in this fandom?

2. But Hawks being Hawks doesn't Make It Easier

Truth be told, I'm on your side. I used to very much doubt he had much of a body/kill count. I still think it might be single digits if we consider actually murdering someone with his own hands/quirk, though I suspect he might be responsible for deaths in other ways. I would have completely accepted Jin being his first (and only at this point) murder.

So why did I change my mind about this? Simply; Keigo's a fucking freak. I say this with love.

Every so often Keigo says or does something in this manga that both confirms he's kind of insane and in a very different moral space than everyone else, and just off-handedly mentioning he went and, after being subjected to third degree burns and essentially losing limbs, immediately went to eliminate every last sample even after the battle (where he was carried off by Tokoyami mind you) as in....destroying Jin's body or ensuring no one can use it. He's offended when it's clear Dabi got the better of him with this.

Mind you, he's the world champion at repressing his feelings, duh, but the fascinating way he speaks about this (a minute after screaming they NEED TO KILL JIN AGAIN) speaks volumes. Keigo's completely undaunted about handling death and its aftermath. If he's never killed before, he's been certainly trained to in a way that he handles it professionally.

There's one more thing that makes me think Keigo did kill before Jin. We can argue over how much Keigo hesitated killing Jin, but I think it's a point in that he did in how much he ABSOLUTELY does not with All For One.

Like he does not hesitate. Immediately tries to put a feather-knife through his brain. Logically, I mean, I think anyone would try to one-shot AFO because the more time the man that has (until he rewound himself) the more time he has to fuck you up, but still. He tries to stab through his man's head as soon as he gets out of the portal.

Here's Keigo just admitting it, albeit saying he expected it wouldn't work, but really, he's more apologizing he can't immediately kill this man.

No hesitance.

My final piece of evidence is that Keigo is currently walking around Japan in a suit with a katana begging mfers to "try it bitch". Like being quirkless, not a hero, none of that is stopping him if he needs to defend himself. And it's not like he can pin someone away with his feathers. Nor does he have dozens of daggers at his disposal anymore, just one blade. He's the type to try and finish things quickly as the manga has shown time and time again. I really hope no one actually tries to assassinate him because there's an extreme likelihood he'll just decapitate them in the SPC boardroom.

3. Red, Red Hands

To recap, we know Keigo has been trained to kill, in a multitude of ways (and not only with his quirk), and has always seen killing as option/tool he can use. The HSPC might not be as eager to kill as Kaina's era was, but they raised Keigo with the intent to use him to be able to kill people and cover it up. While there's no proof of other murders, there's proof he's been given the training, tools, and expectation to kill. And his attitude towards killing isn't making it seem like he's not done it before. Of course, he's not agonizing over it like Kaina, which makes me think he was used sparingly to kill.

But the other thing to ask is - will Keigo continue to kill (and not like in personal defense) or lead to the deaths of others? He's already set on reforming the Public Safety Commission by allowing for the reform of Villains who cooperate, renaming the Commission to distance itself from solely heroism... We're still a few chapters away of seeing what this new president has in store for society and how he'll distinguish his methods from the people who created him, but we also have two hundred and fifty chapters of him expressing dislike of how he's used, so perhaps it's fair to say he's not continuing the cycle?

[behoright]

console me l m. barzal

how it feels to rest / on your patient lips

summary: as angry as mat is after the season loss, he cannot hide it from you. mostly plotless smut

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: minors DNI! 18+ only. smut, sexual situations that include rough sex, degrading language and behaviors, pain/pleasure dynamics, pet names, consent break/check, bodily fluids. mentions of size difference and love lol.

a/n: for all my sad, islanders girlies. masterlist is fixed! muah.

read me please:  i cannot say this any more clearly: this is not for everyone. read at your discretion. the warnings are stated as clearly as i can my loves. my inbox is always open to have any discussion about writing, relationships, sex, bdsm and kink. if this makes you uncomfortable or simply is not your cup of tea, move on my dear. love u guys always.

⊹　 　　🎧　 　　 ⁾⁾　

It really took only a day to figure out.

As much as he tried to hide it, leave it at the rink.

Anger. 

Mat had never been so pissed before. 

For once, he knew that he had given it his all. 

He had sacrificed, time and time again. 

Played through sickness, injuries, birthdays, and special events. 

Harder than ever before.

Despite knowing that everything passes, he couldn’t shake the thought, or perhaps the fact, that there had been other factors that cost the team the cup. 

Things out of his control. 

And it drove him to the edge every night.

Having to see his teammates get more disappointed with every passing second on the ice. 

Knowing that their dream was slipping away from them, no matter how much he had clawed and fought to hold on. 

He spent extra time at the gym, on the ice, hours after the last painful loss, just to attempt to get rid of the anger. 

But it wasn’t working. 

Instead, it just fueled the apparent neverending and burning cycle.

The last thing he wanted to do was bring his negativity home. 

Back to you. 

To the safe haven you had both built so meticulously. 

The only person that stood by his side, in every sense of the word, didn’t deserve to take the brunt. 

However, you could see the cracks. 

He was very good at veiling it, but not good enough for you. 

The past couple days had brought you a huge sense of gratitude, knowing you were in a relationship that stripped your souls and bodies. 

Fully being yourselves at all times. 

So, as you packed to begin your various summer travels, you knew you had no other choice.

Something was pounding, deep from inside you, to open this door for you two. 

You stood in your shared room, watching Mat’s muscular back crouched down in the walk in closet as he messily threw his shirts in his luggage.

“Mat?” you called him, voice shaky.

“Hmm, babe?” he asked, still packing. 

“How are you feeling?”

The question wasn’t anything new, a domestic ritual you two had to keep your connection based in truth wholly. 

Since you had both promised to listen without any stories or distractions in exchange for the complete truth, every single time, it had become easier to share.

“Well, love…” he sighed, not daring to face you as his face stiffened, your question bringing up his most repressed feelings. “I’m angry. I’m fucking frustrated at how it all ended, you know?”

“You are?” you said, walking towards him, picking at the skin on your hands nervously.

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay, I mean, it’ll pass. But I’m angry.”

“Take it out on me.” you blurted out, strong in your stance and words, now only a couple of feet behind him. “Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Mat stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as his mind emptied, only being able to stare at the half empty suitcase in front of him. 

Whether he liked to admit it or not, he knew that you could see right through him. 

There was no hiding from the woman he loved. 

“I know that we’ve talked about this before but… are you sure you can handle it?” he questioned, turning around to look at you. 

“I know I can, Mat.”

“Baby…”

The overhead warm light surrounded your head like a halo as he looked up at you. 

He wondered, during a poetic moment, how his angel could be giving herself over to him like this. 

“I’m asking for it.” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Can you handle it?”

For a moment he forgot that his sweet angel was no such thing behind closed doors. Ever since the first night, he saw that dark fire inside you, and it hadn’t gone out in years. 

Mat was the perfect fan to your flames.

“Oh, so it’s like that huh?” Mat answered, his lips curling up into a smirk as he stood up to tower over you. “Will you tell me if you need me to stop?”

“Yes.” you gulped as you two stood just inches apart. “I remember my word.”

“You do, huh?” he asked as you saw his feet take one last step towards you, the fabric of his shirt ghosting over yours.

“I can take it.” you repeated, getting lost in his eyes as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, we can take it, right, baby?” he uttered, his fingers wrapping around the sides of your neck as his eyes looked down upon you. “We fucking can.”

His lips finally met yours, Mat’s tongue swiping feverishly on your bottom lip before invading your mouth, drippingly meeting yours in a heated makeout session.

The belligerence of his kiss sent a moan reberverating inside his open mouth. 

Mat loved to make out. He could do it for hours, until his cock began to twitch restlessly in his denim. 

He opened his mouth fully, letting you invade each other messily. 

Lately, he had taken it as far as to spit in your mouth. Not forcefully, but just letting a trail of spit drip from the tip of his tongue into your throat, the height difference coming to his advantage.

It felt so fucking primal to him that it always sent you flying against a wall everytime he’d see the look of passion and satisfaction in your eyes after you swallowed his saliva.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? All those times I was heated, venting at you?”

he asked, forcing you to take steps back into the bedroom, still holding you tightly, the tips of his fingers pushing against the ridges of your scalp. 

“Yes.” you whispered into a kiss. The sensual murmur drove him to bite your bottom lip, pull it towards him as he stopped your motions.

“Oh, what is wrong with you, baby? That’s so fucking bad.” he said, watching the bite swell up exquisitely as you smiled, enticing him into more kisses. 

More spit, boiling into each other and pushing each other unconsciously as you two ondulated in your heat. He began to shove himself intensely against you, getting more of those moans he loved so much. 

“You can’t even be quiet when I kiss you.” he said, shaking his head slowly as his hand came to rest on the front of your neck. He flinched backwards when you attempted to kiss him again. 

It was his bedroom now.

“Come here.” he barked, sitting down on the bed. “This will shut you up.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself before you kneeled in front of him, not even giving him a chance to undo his pants before your mouth salivated over him. He rested his long fingers on your shoulder, almost keeping you tamed as he pulled out his erection.

“Eager, eager girl.” he chuckled, watching you leap onto him.

You wished you could take him entirely the second your tongue met the salty precum that had dribbled down his shaft, but that had never been a possibility. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mat fucking loved it. 

He adored that you struggled to take him, that you wanted so hard to swallow him whole at a first try. 

His head fell back, exposing his thick adam’s apple as it thumped in his throat, Mat trying to hide his gulps every time your lips wrapped around him lower and lower. 

You knew just how to please him, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks just at the right minute spots that still took his by surprise every single time.

Mat felt your desperation as you kept taking him down, so eager to please him. For a second, it enchanted him, filling him with gratitude that he had a partner that so badly wanted to destress him. 

However, it was short-lived.

It was not what you wanted, or what he needed.

“Fuck.”

It felt good, his toes slowly beginning to curl as he felt strings of precum coat the back of your throat, but the more he channeled the feeling that he had pushed away for so long, the more restless he became.

Every time you gagged, your muscles would clench around him, shocking him with exhilarating stimulation.

“Sit up. Now.” he said, strictly, jumping out of his experience. You tentatively moved away from him, the only thing connecting you two now being a sloppy trail of saliva.

“Baby, I-, I-...” you said, uncertainly.

“You what? Hmm?” he asked, undressing as you stared at him dumbfounded. 

Throughout the years, Mat had never sounded so stern in the bedroom as he did now. 

“You asked for angry Mat, didn’t you?” he continued, tapping your head demeaningly in an effort to sit you up. “Beggars can’t be choosers, doll.”

The register in his voice was forceful and humiliating enough to send your desire running down the inside of your thighs, his muscular hands working on practically ripping your clothes off so harshly that he had thrown you off balance a couple of times.

Your heart began to race in anticipation as he silently threw the half-trashed garments through the room. 

He was decisive, precise in his actions, and it made you slightly trepid.

Prolepsis and nerves mixing acidly in your stomach; you knew you had the choice to revoke consent anytime, but you were grounded enough to know that Mat was the safest man to do this with.

Apart from working up to it for months now, and seeing him slowly come out of his shell and let go further every time he got you to himself behind closed doors, you knew how much you wanted this. 

Your body knew as well, your blood rushing rapidly to your cunt as he kept grazing against your skin, snapping the back of your bra before discarding it mindlessly. You could feel the flames of his subjugated feelings simmering again, coming to the surface the more he got out of his head and into his body, his breath becoming deeper and hotter against your skin, breathing out frustration with low, vibrational groans.

“Get on the bed.” he yapped as soon as you were fully naked, his hand pushing you a tad bit too potently onto your bed; so much so that you naturally rested your sweaty limbs on the blankets on all fours.

“Look how wet you are. You’re not embarrassed?” he spit out, running his finger up your slit sloppily as he set himself behind you. “I haven’t even touched you, Y/N.”

He was just a hair over the line, authoritative in his colloquy and pinpointing his acts precisely to get you where he wanted. 

He didn’t care to run himself on your slit, not tonight, his cock still dripping with your thick spit. He thrusted entirely into you, his pounding head coming in contact with your cervix instantly, making your body barely jolt forward. 

“You should be fucking ashamed, Y/N, not moaning.” he barked, as he began to move painfully slow. His thick length, running in and out of your tight walls at a lethargic pace. 

Still, feeling every inch so powerfully split you apart with no preparation, the ridges of his member and his veins skimming your engorged insides ripped moans out of you like never before. 

“You just love being a fuck toy for me, don’t you.” he said, roughly intensifying the grip on your hips as he gradually sped up his movements. He sounded just as rough, doing his best to hold back any signs of satisfaction, but it wasn’t easy. He had made you into a mess so quickly and it mostly came down to his demeanor. 

Ever since he met you, he knew he’d treat you right and respectfully, only you.

He never cared to seem friendly to other girls, truthfully; because he had you. 

The only girl that had naturally commanded such a soft love and tenderness out of him. It was almost ironic to him how the tougher he was with you in between the sheets, the more you melted. 

And god, did he love to see you like this.

Spread vulnerably and already on the brink after a handful of thrusts. 

It drove him mad, struggling to keep any self-control just to have you on a tittering edge. 

But feeling you drip around him, your yearning for him ebbing and flowing out of your pussy as it mixed with the spit that you’d left on his cock, now all of it mixing and coating both of you. 

“Yeah, my little doll.” he said, masking his exasperation as he found a steady rhythm that made your ass recoil delightfully against his pelvis, the chiseled V that framed his cock pounding hard into your flesh as you began to see stars.

Your mouth was stuck open, wanting his call out his name miserably but finding it impossible as the tension kept building within you, tightening your pussy all around and sending shivers down his back as his legs began to tense, inch by inch.

He groaned deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and striving to pivot on that feeling he adored so much, all the sensations that came with being buried deep inside you. 

But all he found was that anger.

The emotion he had tried to leave at work, to get past.

The one that you had noticed.

For good reason, because it was unignorable.

And so he focused on it, the frustration that he had accumulated for months beginning to expand and find its way insidiously through every vessel, every corner of his being. His jaw clenched, the more he let it take over him, the more pleasure would grow, passing from you to him and burning brightly in his belly.

The hinges of the bed creaked and slammed against the wall, his bedframe scratching against his beloved wooden floor as his ears were blessed with your saccharine moans, leaving you unexpectedly and unplanned. 

Your body knew how to take him precisely as his thrusts moved you forward, encouraging all the natural sounds to come out of you instinctively. 

He was afraid that if he let go of your hips that he would lose it. 

He was afraid that he’d pound you right into the mattress; instead, he had a set intention to make this last, to see how far he could take you.

Mat had never heard you sound so beautiful, he thought, just as his rage came to a peak; he could feel his joints begin to sore as he gave it his all, unwilling to stop and let go, fully zoned into unloading his stress. 

He never knew it would bring you so much bliss as he looked down and saw the consequences, heavenly squelching echoing against his growls. He knew you were losing it, micro mannerisms in your body letting him see that you were reaching your orgasm hastily. 

He didn’t need to see your face.

He knew that that familiar blush had knocked at your door, covering your cheeks expansively as your moaning got more high-pitched and frenetic, your pussy twitching around his moving cock. 

“Slow down, you’re making a fucking mess.” he commanded, smugly knowing it would allow it to rip through you, just as it did. 

His knuckles turned white just as yours did, the grip on your sheets fatally unyielding as you let go, coming over Mat. 

The pleasure sparking every synapse in your brain, the cozy feeling flashing through you over and over again as he kept fucking, still roughly and aggressively. 

“You’re fucking gushing.” he said, brave enough to let a hand come down, hard on your ass. The nonchalant tone of disgust in his voice made your whole body light up, tiny bumps forming on your skin at his words as you began to come down from your orgasm.

Mat kept relentlessly, only speeding up, just edging at the border of being too much. As he hit the same spot over and over again, forcefully, your limbs became weak, succumbing to the tremoring that Mat was sending through your system. 

The more you came on him, the more degrading he’d become, periodically spitting onto your core. You knew it wasn’t for any functional purpose more than for humiliating pleasure, giving you everything you craved and more. You couldn’t ask for more, his groans and insults filling up the room; however, the needier you acted, the more Mat would crack under you. 

And the more you pretended you didn’t notice it, the harder your eyes would roll back. 

“You’re so fucking loud, god damn. I’d tell you to shut up, but I know you can’t do it, you’re so heated up.”

Your muscles started to twitch faintly as he snuck his hand around you to rub your clit vigorously, pushing against your skin with sadistic pressure. As much as you tried to get any words of warning out, your body betrayed you, falling pathetically flush against the mattress, the only thing leaving you a whimper. 

The movement wasn’t surprising to you; you had noticed the build-up and distress signals a while ago but had stupidly given in to the thrill instead. 

For Mat, however, it was a different story.

Seeing you tremble against his milky sheets, writhing around slowly and whimpering had him worried immediately. He pulled out swiftly before turning you around.

Thankfully, your eyes found each other, giving him an encouraging sign of lucidity from you.

“Look into my eyes. Are you okay?” he said, clenching his fingers underneath your chin. 

“M’kay.” 

Through blurry vision, you were able to find his dark gaze, regardless of how he was touching your face. The grip on your cheek was so protective and yet you couldn’t ignore the hedonism in his touch.

“What is it? I’m not going to keep fucking you if you’re lying to me.” he said, harshly.

Your brain had melted, completely caved into him, his energy and touch that had brought you to this place so quickly. The unfamiliar floaty feeling neighbored you as you began to tranquilize your boyfriend.

“I’m not lying.” you muttered lazily, gaining enough strength to prop yourself up on your elbows, your nose now touching his. “It just feels so good, Mat.”

Your confession took Mat by surprise. 

His worst fear was taking it all too far, unwillingly hurting you in any way, whether that be physically or otherwise. 

All the same, here you were, in all of your splendor under him, shaking from pleasure. 

It didn’t take long to realize that perhaps he had induced some sort of high, if that was possible.

“You need a kiss?” he asked, his eyes still diligently studying your face. “You need a kiss, don’t you, yeah, come here.”

It wasn’t frenzied or fiery, and still, it told him everything he needed to know.

“That’s all? Better?” he looked at you once more, running his mental checklist.

Eyes were good, skin not too flushed, she can kiss normally, and speak. Not dehydrated or pale.

“Much better.”

The transparency in your speech set in stone what he had thought of.

The words that so easily came out of him, his mannerisms and gestures had sent you haywire, quivering with vibrant intensity, the bliss forcing its way out of your pores, steaming from your skin.

“Good job.” he coaxed, mentally patting himself on the back with a smirk as you fell back down onto the cloudy mattress with a dreamy sigh, a hazy look fixated on him.

Drunk on pleasure, he thought, snickering.

“I bet you feel so dirty, don’t you?” Mat said, his chest heaving with warm sweat dripping from his stubble down onto his pecs. Vulnerability surrounded you both, your eyes running upon each other’s bodies. Taking this moment to pause made sure you were attending to each other fully and completely, the desire still consuming you thoroughly. In the quietness, Mat took his fingers and began running them down your abdomen, barely grazing your clammy skin. 

“I asked you a question, doll.” he said, moving his touch again up your centerline. You could only nod, his fingertips electrifying you with eternal bliss as they found their resting place on your plump lips. 

“Are you having trouble with your words?” he said, breathlessly mocking you before you stuck your tongue out, soaking his digits by letting them sit on you. 

After all, Mat didn’t think he could break any further. 

Until then. 

Seeing you embrace the feeling gave him the reassurance that he was subconsciously looking for.

He was incredulous at your actions, sticking your tongue out fully, with no shame or guilt, and only for him. 

Letting your spit absorb into his calloused skin, while more saliva pooled visibly at the back of your throat. 

Disgustingly.

And it made his throbbing cock twitch, heedlessly slapping against your cunt in a wet motion. 

“Fuck, angel.”

He pushed it further by entering your mouth and your pussy simultaneously, a choked moan surrounding his hand as your eyes flew back.

“That’s my fucking girl.” he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he wasted no time in his fucking, militantly filling you fully again. “Doesn’t it make you feel so good, baby?”

“It does.” you moaned, obediently answering his every question and request.

“Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be so dirty for me?” he asked, flush taking over him again. 

It was so delightful to see him let go, fully, just as he thought the same about you. 

“So nasty, such a sick little girl.” he continued. “Turn around, come here.” 

Mat sat back on his heels, guiding you to sit on his cock. 

The will was stronger than logic, your thighs quivering as you sunk down on him. 

Mat always hit deeper at this angle, his cock bulging out on your lower tummy as your ass came flush with him.

“You’re so bad, so fucking bad. And look at you, you don’t even care.” he said, moving your hair to the side as his lips grazed against the shell of your ear.

“What would everyone say if they saw you acting like this, huh? Begging to take me after I’m so mean to you. After I slap you, choke you, and spit on you. After I say the most degrading fucking shit to you, you don’t care. It makes your panties drenched, doesn’t it?”

Mat’s hands ran up past your tummy and found a tight hold on your tits, variating between letting them bounce in his palm and gripping them so desperately that it left marks on you. Your chests moved in synch, up and down with your motions; you let your head fall back on his shoulder as you unavailingly rebounded briskly, tightening just at the perfect moment, when your opening came in touch with the delicious curve between his pelvis and the base of his cock. 

“Just as I fucking thought, you can’t even hold back.” he said, grinding ever so slightly against you. The recognizable feeling started to take over you for the millionth time, candied moans causing Mat to jolt against you unexpectedly and thrust deeper.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” he asked, slapping one of your breasts. “Your body gives you away so easily, angel face.”

He was solid under you, your loving foundation as more juices ran out of you, covering his thighs in sticky squirt, your whole being quivering in delight with his arms instinctively holding you through it. 

“That’s because you’re mine, yeah?” 

Your eyes, stuck on the ceiling, recognized just how close his face was to yours, gaze fixated on your expression as it furrowed and sweated the incessant orgasm. 

“Yeah, I don’t even have to fucking ask.” 

Mat kept talking, kept grinding, as his hands got more desperate, undecided between all the layers of skin and flesh. The more he focused on you, the more he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer, and as much as he felt that most of the night, he knew that the simple intemperance that had built inside him was about to burst. 

“Look at you. You need more? You always fucking do.” he coaxed, settling his left hand on your throat as your whole body kept aching, spasming sweetly on top of him. 

Totally uncontrolled. 

Unaware of what liquids were leaving you and what noises you were making. 

Your brain only handling and pining for pleasure. 

More and more. 

“It’s never fucking enough for you, is it? You love it when I cross the line with you, you needy, needy girl.” he said, his grip on your throat tightening slightly enough to make your dotted vision fill with sparkles. 

Your head snapped up as your abdomen contracted, almost painfully sore, finally letting you breathe deeply as your body gave you a second to recuperate. 

Tears involuntarily left the corners of your eyes, perhaps from the delectation of it all, the intensity, the overwhelm, or the tiredness. 

“It feels so, so good. You make me feel so good.” you managed to find the strength to whisper against Mat’s lips before letting yours fall on top of his in a loving kiss. 

“Oh, god, you’re going to make me cum, baby.” 

Mat’s voice quivered, as he stared into you; he had never breathed deeper and yet hyperventilated at the same time, just as he'd never felt so much rage and frustration mixed with pleasure all at once. 

“Like that, like that, like that.” he said, through gritted teeth. “Fucking look at me.” 

He grabbed your chin roughly, your face pouting under his touch in the cutest way, he thought. “Like that, baby, fuck.”

Mat exclaimed loudly as he colvulsed forward, his cum filling your tight hole with a growl so deep that you felt yourself vibrate at the power in his voice. You sloppily kept jumping on his dick, every single muscle of his being flexing in concentration and gratification as his warm seed seeped inside you and overflowed, running down his hips before he had the chance to pull out. 

“Oh, fuck, baby.” he moaned, breathlessly. You finally fell, completely limp, into the puddle that he made you in since the beginning. 

“That’s okay, that’s okay, fall into my arms.” Mat reassured, still firing under you. “You did so good. You were so, so good, angel.”

Mat had enough of a size advantage on you to manhandle you, this time turning you both onto your sides after a couple of quiet moments, keeping his cock warm still inside your folds. 

“I love you, I love you, baby. So much. Thank you, thank you. Come here.” he whispered against you, running his hand through your locks as he pulled you closer to him by your waist. 

“Are you good, baby?” he said, watching you nod with a sweet smile on your face. “Why are you crying?”

“It just felt so good, babe.” you reassured him, turning slightly to play with his shining chain that sat damply on his collarbones. 

“I would never hurt you, yeah? You’re safe with me.” he whispered into your cheek in between kisses. “I got you always, babe. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

“I know, baby, I love you.” you said, your eyes into his. “Are you okay, Mat?”

“Oh, baby, yes, yes I’m okay don’t worry. Was I too rough? Too mean? You can tell me, love.”

“No, no, it was perfect.” you repeated. You’d say it as many times as it was needed. 

“Good. You were perfect.” he said. 

You didn’t know, but he thought the same. Reassurance had no limit for him.  

“I see you, I see you fully and I love you, I love everything about you.”

“I love you more, Mat.” you said in between kisses. “Do you feel better now?”

“Oh, baby. So much fucking better.”

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Fight for Love

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing

Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)

A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.

You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library, to let you fight it out in the map room.

This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.

You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.

"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you.", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table.

"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"

"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp."

"Well it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.

"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.

"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.

At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.

"Because I love you!", you responded, voice louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure dread and regret.

You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.

You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker, or things becoming awkward and you losing your closest friends.

You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.

"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.

Dean's POV

After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.

Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.

"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?"

"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.

"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."

"How?"

Your POV

The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."

You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Fuck. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.

Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.

"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.

"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him. You really didn't want to hear some "it's not you it's me" speech.

"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.

"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.

"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.

"Please don't kick me out." You knew that was an irrational fear to have and Dean would probably never do that to you, but the weight of your insecurity was heavy on your mind.

He was taken aback by your words but his heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.

"Hey, no one's kicking you out." He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me."

His voice sounded so gentle but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.

"I love you too." Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

"Y-you love me?" you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.

"Have for a long time sweetheart, how could I not." He could still tell you didn't believe him so he leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. It felt like you were going to combust and he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you.

Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to," he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.

"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer."

A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car," he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.

Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?" you asked.

You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.

"Not really. It did at first." he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry, I know it was a stupid move."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."

Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.

He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."

"Fine," you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy," you greeted.

"Oh h-hey!" he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."

"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."

"Ok good," he said with a hint of relief.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket. "I guess we should head back." You didn't want to break this moment, almost fearing that what had happened between you two would disappear when you left the safety of the car.

He nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.

Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.

"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight," he pleaded.

"Ok," you breathed, relieved that the moment still wasn't ending.

You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.

Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"

You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.

[mitsua]

Ineffable infatuation

Summary: Barbatos past self, saw his future self with an amazing being by his side while using his power on accident, what is this feeling he's had ever since for them?

This is my apology for the last Barbatos fic that I did not finish (do you want me to though?) and I'm extremely proud of how it came out, I love this man so much

I highly recommend reading it while listening to "After Dark" by Mr. Kitty

Warnings: mentions of dizziness, wars between Demons and Angels, screams of agony, repressing feelings, a Demon being seen as a God (very brief, don't come at me, it's for the story's sake), some spoilers (? I don't really consider them spoilers 'cause it's all on OM's SWD? original and early story...)

Genre: angst to romance (bittersweet) Pairing: Barbatos x MC

Series: Obey me! SWD? & NB! Words' count: 1.52k

Barbatos found himself in what could be described as the beginning of a new era in the land he's just arrived to, barely recalling anything from whatever could have brought him here.

Who was he to begin with?

He looked up and down, feeling his body for the first time, adapting to its strange movements and finally, he started walking successfully.

It was all unknown to him, even more when he heard his own voice for the first time as he looked up and admired the endless starry sky above him. It was so beautiful—What was everything he was feeling just now?

He glanced down once again, noticing the fauna surrounding him. There were a couple of strange creatures to him, they were looking at him... he didn't know what to do.

Even less when a certain group of black little cloud-looking things came flying to him, his arms and hands moved by their own and without knowing he created something in front of him.

The little D's gang stopped on their tracks when they saw a peculiar oval-shaped thing glowing, more voices could be heard from it.

Barbatos could see everything. He saw it.

Atleast, until he saw you.

After several minutes of complete silence excepting some really rushed sounds from creatures they didn't know about, the glowing, flashy thing dissapeared.

Barbatos stood still, processing everything he's witnessed. He just used magic—as all his events have made him learn. He was catalogued as a Demon, he just landed on what will be the Devildom one day, he'll meet countless people.

Countless until he finally meets you.

That was the moment he pictured the most now that the only light there was in that bare world was the moon's.

He could remember feeling a certain way once you spoke to him for the first time, asking who he was at that classroom from the Royal Academia of Diavolo—whom he'll someday come to serve with all his might.

Still, he could not adress what the feeling was though.

He could not wait to come face to face with you, he had to do something, anything—no, he was only beginning to understand everything but if one thing he got clear from this experience was just how powerful he was.

To put it plainly, he could easily change anything from the timeline he wasn't pleased with. Anything.

So, he knew that even if he was craving to encounter you as soon as possible, he shouldn't, he would regret it even.

His last vision was you, you made him lose his concentration for a second so the portal he created vanished into thin air. He knew how to make it appear once again now, however, chose against.

If he got to see you once more, he knew he wouldn't think twice and get with you. What was wrong with it? A little voice asked on his mind.

Thus, instantly provoking a downpour of timelines he's just witnessed fall apart from his mistakes pop up everywhere, making him feel dizzy for a second and crouch down to take a hold of his head and heart which pulsed painfully.

The little D's did not comprehend a single thing that just happened, but after taking a glance to one another, they agreed that the creature infront of them seemed unharmful and flew to its side to aid in any way they could.

A couple grabbed one of his arms, a couple more the other and the last three gathered around his head, were they could see his face contorting in any way that made them all think he was not doing great.

One last look to a blue-horned one from the other six made them start chanting some noises they've learnt help to cure aches from experiences they've gone through on their few days alive in that wild environment.

Which then again, they didn't really know could be counted and only thought the night had no end nor beginning, so didn't mind it that much.

The following minutes were filled with unharmonied babbles coming from the seven little D's and slowly but surely, a light rainbow-colored glow and breeze enveloped Barbatos upper body, its appearance making his agony subside.

Barbatos stood up, feeling what he could express as painless with his lack of vocabulary for the moment, when in reality he felt even fresher than when he first blinked to his new life.

He bowed his head to the black creatures around him, trying to make them understand he felt... "grateful? yes, that's the right word."

The little D's assembled in a line infront of the man, excitedly screaming and making a face mirrored to Barbatos'.

He was smiling, for the first time in this new life, in his new life—his life—he smiled.

Right then and there he understood that he must take every step seriously if he wanted to achieve all the good and great things he saw moments ago.

More specifically, if he wanted to meet up with everyone he now knew the faces of, those who have made such feelings stir inside him that he could still not name, but he cared deeply from now on.

Barbatos began with a journey that he knew had an ending, one he didn't know about, but preferred it stayed that way for as long as possible. He only had on mind the day he'd make contact for the first time with you.

He saw the first Devildom's ruler arrive to the desert land, he was witness of the first encounter with other race they had, they proclaimed themselves as 'Angels'.

He heard the first cry for help of a demoness being shoot by a spear when the first conflict between those two races began.

He was known for millennia as the first magic user and the most powerful being who had ever stepped that cursed land that 'only Demons could reside.'

He was known as a God for sometime, a Deity who had to be praised in order to receive blessings in your life while he had gone on his first trip to the human world for a couple of centuries to get to know more about them, leaving the little D's in charge of everything oblivious to the fame he had made of himself.

That's when humans caught a glimpse of him and started the rumours of 'ungracefully-looking being', 'monstruously-looking being' and more so that he learnt the magic to make his demonic appearance look more human-alike and be able to blend in.

Nevertheless, he was both impressed and bothered by the fact that those rumours did nothing but spread further until the whole world got to now about the 'cursed beings being able to disguise themselves and come curse them to death or even trick them to eat their souls.'

Barbatos came back when he got to know that the latest Devildom's King had an offspring, only then did he remember once again those filled with pure curiousity amber eyes staring right at him when he first used his powers millennia ago.

He had to be there, be there when Diavolo first took charge of the Devildom himself once his father fell in a seemingly-endless sleep, he's sworn loyalty to him centuries ago, he couldn't and wouldn't want to back down.

As years went by his side, Barbatos got to experience tons of instants that he felt his heart swell with pride, greed, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony and sloth—just as the avatars that he knew and slightly feared were extremely close to meet him and his master for the first time ever.

The Celestial War came. A bloodshed was spent, an eternity seemed to pass while he could hear and recall all those pained screams from his companions being butchered by those who called themselves 'merciful' that made his blood boil and almost lose control. He knew better than to lose it, he knew this would happen sooner or later—he had to accept it—he had to accept he could not save everyone he cared for.

Following the 'most traumatizing events' as he'd decided to aknowledge it all as, Diavolo kept his word and continued with the Royal Academy of Diavolo foundation, which the latter promised one day would hold creatures from all three worlds.

Barbatos got to know each and every emotion he thought he would feel in his whole life, yet once he saw you, physically present infront of him, he discovered there were many more he's kept hidden in his heart just from this moment on.

You, who had held his sanity for as long as he's seen you that first time from a magically-created screen that—even if he felt something deep inside him then—once he got to talk to you made it bloom and he could finally name it.

He was in love.

All the time, all his time was about you, and now, he planned on not letting any more of this precious moments go to waste and make you his. Because Barbatos, as much loyalty he'd pledged to Diavolo, has—since the beginning of time—been yours always.

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[prouddogboi]

Stray dog (Part 1)

To find the most recent chapters, please go to @doggoboigaugau 's masterlist

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Male Reader is traumatized and forcefully refuses affection from Ghost and Soap even in his sleep.

Word count: 1852

Warnings: It's my first time posting my writing on Tumblr. There are so few CODxM!Reader fics I just want to contribute lmao TToTT. The warning is it can be shit because I'm new.

It was a successful mission. A tough one, yes, many soldiers got serious injuries and had to spend days in the hospital, but still, the mission was accomplished with minimal loss. The people at the base decided to throw a party at a well-known bar in the area. As usual, you stayed close to your team, until they left you all alone again for whatever they were up to: Ghost and Soap went into the dark corridor doing ‘secret’ business except for the fact that everyone knew what that business was; Price meeting up with the Captains of other teams, talking about the ‘kids’ in their care like the good ol’ tired dads and moms they all were; Gaz hitting up on some pretty guy or girl; and Roach just immersing himself in the music on the dance floor. 

“The usual shot?” The bartender smiled at you. He was an ordinary-looking guy, not too tall, not too short, but he was always nice to you.

“Yeah.” You replied, eyes looking down at the empty glass in your scarred hand. Your usual shot was one of the heaviest types served at this bar, you found its bitter, stinging taste and the dizziness it brought about worked wonders for you, helping to repress the strong emotions that always came up to the surface to trouble you whenever you were off the field, whenever you were not having to fight between life and death. Free time and a mind that was offered the opportunity to relax were not something you felt grateful for. Instead, you loved being constantly stimulated when being in battles, since it left your mind no time to overthink unnecessary things other than trying to keep yourselves and your teammates alive.

“A successful mission, huh? Everyone is enjoying themselves a lot tonight.” The bartender said, clearly trying to keep talking to you as he was preparing your drink.

“It was.”

“Did you get injured?” 

“Just some scratches, nothing serious.”

“You seem to do your job very well.”

You did. You were a good soldier. An excellent one even. You were showered with praise from the Captain, the teammates, the higher-ups… just anyone after almost every mission. Even Ghost himself had to admit that you were a good one. However, you didn’t know for sure what made you excel while most others didn’t. Maybe it was because every mission you paid no mind as to whether you would be alive or not. It was true that everyone in this line of work had to come to terms with the notion of death upon themselves, no one could be sure how many days they got left on this planet doing this kind of job, but you were still different. You weren’t actively trying to get yourselves in situations that would get you killed, because it often meant a great threat to your teammates too, but you were not one that would hold on to life that much. You were always ready to sacrifice.

“I notice that you’re always alone. Well, the others do join you, but after a while, they leave and you’re still here.” The bartender passed you the shot.

“They have things to do.”

“Why don’t you? Getting out there and having some fun.”

Fun? It did not sound fitting to who you were. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I prefer it this way.”

“By the way, can I ask for a guy’s number? The one with the mohawk.”

“You mean Soap?” You left out a soft chuckle, “Give up, mate. He already has a partner. A scary one.” 

“Who?”

“The fuckin’ huge one with the skull mask. I’m sure you know well who he is and how scary he is.”

“What? That guy? I’ve always thought he’s into you though.”

This time you laughed out loud. The thought of someone interested in you was just so ridiculous, it felt surreal and impossible, “Ain’t no way, why would you think that?”

“He always looks at you with those piercing eyes, as if he will eat you up in no time.”

“Probably it’s because the Soap guy is always leaning over me. He’s so mad that I dare to get that near to his precious partner that he just wants to end my life right here.” You drank up the whole glass in one breath, then smashed the now empty glass on the bar, resulting in a huge ‘thump’ sound, mainly due to the fact that it was your fist that came into contact with the wooden material. It sent a burning feeling to your skin and fresh, but it was nothing compared to the physical pain you had to endure in battles or the mental one off field, when your mind was free to drift away. 

“Could be. But I still think he is into you.” The bartender shrugged, knowing you so well that he went ahead to prepare another shot for you. Nights like this often led to you drinking non-stop until you were so drunk that you’d pass out, and that masked guy was the one who carried you back. That was another reason besides the intense glare that made him convinced that the guy was attracted to you. Well, the hot man with the mohawk was always there too, but he usually waited in distance and smiled at how the masked guy having trouble carrying you as you thrashed around in his arms, clearly too drunk to know that he was just helping you. But the bartender only thought that the mohawk and the masked guy were close friends. Now that you mentioned it, it was indeed possible that they were in love with each other. 

Wouldn’t that make a love triangle though? The bartender threw a glance at you, studying you with amusement. Everyone loved some drama in their mundane lives. You were a handsome boy with sharp facial features, those damn bright eyes that lit up the whole place when you genuinely smiled, and all those strong muscles. He would’ve asked for your number instead if that scary big masked man wasn’t into you that much.

A few hours passed and the party came to its near end. All those smiling and laughing soldiers slowly hopped on the vehicles, making their way back to the base, clearly not wanting to wake up a mess the day after. They still had training as usual after all. One didn’t seem to care though. You collapsed on the bar, your handsome face grew red with how drunk you were and how much alcohol your body had absorbed. Ghost and Soap assured Price that they would bring you back safe before the tired dad of your Task Force got in the car with Gaz and Roach. They didn’t usually drink too much when they were off base, but you were quite the opposite. The team had no idea why you would pour so much alcohol into your mouth and stomach on these occasions, it was like you were grieving over something rather than celebrating the good news of a successful mission. Everyone in this line of work had their own past and troubles, but there was indeed something different in your troubles as they never felt that you were comfortable to open up. Soap even joked a lot about how much harder it was to get closer to you than Ghost. It was true that you were always smiling, chatting, and gossiping with him and Gaz and Roach over stupid things, but there was this invisible wall that you had built around your heart, unwilling to let anyone in. 

Ghost and Soap got to the bar where you were lying. 

“Come to get him?” The bartender was cleaning all the glasses that you and some other regulars used.

Ghost looked at you as your eyes were tightly shut, clearly not happy with your current condition, “Maybe next time don’t let him drink too much.”

The bartender raised his hands, “C’mon, I’m just serving my customers. He appears to need those shots to handle whatever emotions he’s having.”

Ghost and Soap turned their head to look at each other for a few seconds before Ghost stepped up and got you off the bar. You were too drunk to know anything, but surprisingly tonight you were very silent and cooperated well with your Lieutenant. 

“Let’s take you back to your room, huh?” Ghost was content with this sudden change and Soap just casually used his strong hand to rub your neatly cut hair. 

As Soap parked the car in the base's park, Ghost threw one of your arms over his shoulder and carried you off the vehicle. However, your tightly shut eyes suddenly opened, they widened as you turned your head left and right to make sense of your surroundings. 

“You’re up early.” Soap said jokingly.

“He’s too drunk to understand your stupid sarcasm, Soap.” Ghost scoffed. 

However, it took both men aback when they heard you sobbing. Soap was quick to cup your face with his palms, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, sobbing almost uncontrollably, trying to get your face out of his grip. One of Ghost’s arms went to your waist in an attempt to hold you in place and calm you down, but you started to act the usual way when you were drunk: thrashing around hysterically, as if you were striving so hard to escape from something inescapable. 

“Let go of me!” You screamed.

“Y/n, calm down, calm down! It’s us! Ghost and Soap!” Soap tried to talk some sense into the heavily drunk you.

“Stay away from me!” You didn’t seem to listen. Feeling Ghost’s grip was still firm around your body, you got more and more violent. Screaming and kicking, you definitely hurt him in the process as you finally succeeded in getting away. You stumbled a few steps on the cold cement ground before you collapsed on it due to the perfect dizziness that you hoped the shots at the bar would gift you. You curled into a ball, trembling violently yet not from how cold the ground was. Shuddering sobs still escaped your lips, and your eyes were tightly shut again. Price and Gaz hurriedly ran to where you three were, their eyes filled with worry given how loud and heartfelt your screams were (Roach didn’t come with them because he also drank too much). The two men saw Ghost and Soap standing beside you, their arms were hanging in the air as if they were holding on to something, while you were there, laying on the ground sobbing and mumbling unintelligible words. 

Luckily you quickly fell asleep again, still sobbing but unconscious enough for the men to carry you back to your room. They tucked you nicely into your bed, watching over your now peaceful sleeping face. Soap wiped the tears left on your cheeks with his hand, his mind questioning the reasons why you reacted so fiercely to them taking care of you earlier. When you finally stopped sobbing, they carefully left your room. There were things to be discussed, but they could wait.

to be continued bc I have class tmr and I need to sleep :D

[lover-of-mine]

I know I wrote a whole essay on why Eddie fell first and how you can track down some level of awareness all the way back to the tsunami if you try and all that, but I'm having let's recontextualize season 3 and 4 thoughts so... Here's the thing, Eddie's relationship with Shannon was defined by Christopher (and hypothetical child #2), right? He proposed because she got pregnant, he wanted to propose again when he thought she was pregnant again, he brought her back into his life because Chris needed something from her even though they had been living in the same city for a while and he had never tried to contact her for himself, he uses bringing Shannon back into Chris' life as a statement about their marriage until Shannon pushed him into the corner again asking what they're doing. So the one relationship ever had at that point in his life was defined by Christopher. And the way we witness Eddie struggle to trust Shannon adds to things. They're married, she's Christopher's mother but he's not all the way in unless when he's pushed into the corner. So when you look at all that, and the choice Eddie makes of looking Buck in the eye and say "there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you" means a lot given the circumstances. Christopher almost died while on Buck's watch. No one in their right mind would blame Eddie for being cautious. But not trusting Buck doesn't occur to him. So he makes a very definitive statement about the space Buck has in his life using Christopher. I hate making the explicit comparison because a lot of the way Eddie doesn't trust Shannon comes from the fact she didn't choose to come back while Buck keeps barreling his way in, but he tells a Shannon begging for forgiveness that he's not sure he can trust her and then he turns around and pushes his way in to make sure Buck knows he still trusts him. Eddie might not understand all the implications of the way he still trusts Buck that much, but the implications are there. Then we have the lawsuit of it all. The lawsuit is categorically NOT about Eddie. But Eddie makes it about himself because he can't understand the way Buck wouldn't consider him while deciding he didn't have the 118 anymore when he thought he was being clear about what Buck means to him. Buck made it legally impossible for Eddie to talk to him and Eddie does not know what to do with not being able to talk to the one person he relies on even more with the way Chris is also struggling. So dude makes a statement about his relationship with Buck using Christopher yet again. "Do you have any idea how much Christopher misses you? How could you? You're not around." We don't know that for sure but I think it is safe to assume that Eddie did not find out about the lawsuit directly from Buck so all of a sudden, he was not allowed to talk to Buck and he took that very personally, but he uses Christopher as a shield for how the thing makes him feel, but he's still very much talking about himself because the second Buck offers a solution so he can see Chris, he turns around with "it prevents me from reaching out to you, I couldn't even call you to bail me out of jail," so even though Eddie is hiding behind Chris, everything is very obviously about their partnership. But it's Buck who forces him to talk about them. And Eddie let it go because he wanted Buck to consider him and Buck basically promises he will from then on and he keeps that. The thing is, Eddie is in therapy at this point and while Eddie is good at repression, it's not like the dude is unable to name the shit he's repressing. That man has to have thought about why Buck leaving him made him that angry. He has to have thought about why one of the fights he starts is with Buck. He might've not connected the dots, but he has to have realized there are dots to connect. Even more, considering the way Eddie shuts down Buck's attempt to get him to open up about why he was so angry. He's all things got out of hand, let's not think about it because he does not want to open that can of worms.

Then we have the Christmas and the way Buck adjacently fixes a problem by helping organize the party and making so Chris can be with Eddie and the skateboard incident where again, Buck is part of the solution. Those are situations that show that Buck and Eddie have similar parenting styles. And all of that leads us to the well. Eddie's I need to keep fighting montage is very interesting because of the amount of Buck in it, so Buck is in his mind. But also because the well prompts Eddie to change his will. Something became clearer while he was down there because it's not like Chris wouldn't be well taken care of by his parents and he has sisters, he has a lot of blood relatives who would make sure Chris was cared for. He's known Buck for what? A year and a half? And this is maybe 6 months after the lawsuit? And the guy is like "yeah, I'm gonna make this dude responsible for my kid and I am absolutely certain he'll do everything he can for me like I would" after almost dying. Mr defines relationships using his kid gives his kid to someone after the type of experience that makes a human take a deeper look into their lives and I need to believe Eddie doesn't know? He might've not named it in his head. He might've not looked at it head-on and accepted what it truly means. But he has to know something. There's no way that man thinks that what he has with Buck is just a regular friendship. Especially because he hides it. He could've asked Buck, taken Buck with him to talk with his attorney, Buck would've said yes. But he hid it because he didn't want to answer the "why me" question because even during the will reveal my man is in deflection mode and does not fully answer why he did it, he just answers the "why are you telling me" question. He needs Buck to understand he matters and he pulls the will out of his pocket. He goes "here's a reminder you're loved" with something that's one hell of a statement for Eddie. It's the thing Shannon asks for as a statement about their marriage that he couldn't give until he was pushed to it. The idea that he doesn't have some level of awareness he's in love with Buck is... He has to know and just have accepted he is gonna take that to the grave because Buck doesn't want him like that because the way he acts is very specific for me to believe it's fully unconscious. Dude repressed the shit out of it, but he knows what he's repressing, there's no way.

[dope-trope-105]

Enamoured by Strawberries

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The reader is Daeron's best friend, temporarily living at the Targaryen Manor. She's a frustrated little birdie and our Aegon has the perfect solution for her. But maybe, just maybe, I could make a second part with more than just smut.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

It had been a few months since you’d shifted to the Targaryen Manor. When Daeron told his mother that his best friend was about to go broke and end up homeless, Auntie Ali, as you liked to call her, almost forced you into her house. Since then, this place has been your home. 

One night, most of the Targaryen’s had gone for a court meeting about something they didn't disclose. You knew all the kids were asleep. Not being able to sleep till three am, you snuck into the kitchen, only wearing a tee, not bothering to put on clothes because who was gonna be out. So you tiptoed on the cold stone floors through the castle in your baby pink lace thong and Iron man sweatshirt. It was so loose and worn at the neck it hung off your shoulders, but you refused to get rid of it. You shivered in the castle's chill air. Lightly humming to Travis playing on your AirPods, you reached the kitchen. You found yourself snacking on the strawberries while leaning on the counter, slightly moving your hips to the song. Having had quite a few of them as you scrolled through some pictures of hot guys your girlfriends and you had sent on the group, sending voice notes ever so often on what was hot and what was not, you turned around to keep the box back, almost dropping all things in your hand as your eyes widened, mouth hanging open as you took in Aegon's smirking face, who stood on the opposite wall, leaning on a pillar with a beer bottle in his hands, wearing a tight white top and grey sweats. You ripped out the AirPods from your ears.

"Welcome back to the world of the hearing-abled," he said.

"How long have you been standing here?" you questioned, clearly panicked.

"It's the hands. If he didn't have veiny hands, I'd never give him a second look. But because he has veiny hands, I'm cumming just by looking at him," he imitated the first sentence you had spoken on your phone since coming here. Blood went straight to your face.

"That's so fucking creepy, Aegon," you said, voice low as you could hear the blood rush in your ears.

"You're one naughty girl, aren't you," he said, kicking off the wall as he walked closer to you. "Talking about guys almost like they're sex dolls," he said, shaking his head as he came much closer, you instinctively moving back as the exposed skin of your back hit the high marble countertop. "All about making you cum," he finished, hands leaning on both sides of you as he brought his face down to meet yours.

"Wha-what d-do you-," you couldn't even finish your sentence as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"What, can't you talk now? You had so much to say before," he said. "You know I'm not oblivious to your attention-seeking," he said.

You knew what he was talking about. You might have gone absolutely madly sexually repressed since you came here. You were eighteen for fuck's sake, had terrible sex, and only once, and read smut twenty-four/seven. Plus you were generally more horny, probably something to do with your diet. And you had taken to Aegon to relieve you, well not with his knowledge. He was on your mind as you worked your vibrator onto you, imagining him doing the vile things to you that you read. You'd get extra feminine near him, almost always being just slightly more touchy with him than others. You knew nobody noticed. But you were too enamoured fantasising by what he could do to notice what he could observe.

His finger slowly running up your thigh drove you back to him. You were sure you had the deer-in-the-headlights gaze at the direct confrontation and contact.

"You know your room is right next to mine? Imagine my surprise when I hear you at night, not laughing with Baela, not talking, but I hear my own name?" he said, finger hooked onto the waistband of your underwear.

"I-I d-don't know wha-what you're talking about," you said, mind going into overdrive at the lightest of contact. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face.

"It's some filthy shit you read, you know?" he said, smirk growing.

"You went through my laptop?" you asked, panicked.

"You shouldn't leave things like that open on your phone for anyone to pick up," he said, reminding you of the one time at dinner.

You were sitting next to Aegon, snug as a bug in the comfortable sofa-chair on the dining table, waiting for your food to come. You had been rudely interrupted whilst reading one of your favourite smuts, which was basically porn, to be called for dinner. You went, but took the smut with you on your phone, refusing to stop halfway. The food hadn't arrived, and you felt the urge to pee. You left your phone on the sofa that day, your breathing had obviously gotten slightly heavy, and unbeknownst to you, Aegon noticed.

"You look so pretty while sleeping, you know? Hair stuck to your face with sweat all over your body, wearing nothing but underwear," he said again. You only slept like that if you used your vibrator.

"I can do all that, you know?" he finally said, hand now gripping your hip.

"I can make you feel so good," he said, head dipping as he placed a small kiss on your neck, followed by another, then another, until he found himself not giving your skin a break from his mouth. He noticed how you reacted to him, littlest of touches on any part of your exposed skin had you twitching. He hadn't heard you in about a week, and you had been acting like a brat to everyone. He understood your pent up frustration, or more like deduced it. He didn't have to touch you to know you were dripping. Your eyes closed as you were breathing at a mile a minute. Not a sound had come out of you. Aegon knew you needed time to get comfortable.

"Come on," he finally said, grabbing your hand as he walked to his room. Three minutes of complete silence between you guys as you finally took in every word he said. He opened his door, standing to the side as he let you in first. You walked in, seeing his room for the first time. It was dark, green walls, ebony furniture, gaming setup, creamy white sheets, slightly messy, and it smelled overwhelmingly like him. It was intoxicating. "Like what you see?" he said, and you looked back at him, having completely forgotten what you were wearing, or rather, what you weren't.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, walking closer to you. You nodded.

"You've been very bratty this week. You're pretty much a brat all the time, but this last week, You've managed to snap at everyone. I think I know why," he said, hands wrapping loosely on your waist as he looked into your eyes.

"Vibrator just not doing it anymore, is it?" he asked, a mock look of pity in his own eyes,

"You want to be touched now," one of his hands making smooth circles on your side, "You want to feel someone, hear someone speak to you as he fucks you stupid," he finished. "Just say the word," he said. "What do you want baby, I'll do it," he said, cooing. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked, head coming very close to you. Your breath mixed with his, your noses touched as your eyes closed breathing in his scent. "I'll do whatever you want tonight," he said.

And you couldn't wait anymore, pulling his neck to yours as you attached your lips to his. It was a smooth kiss, his lips soft, his breath cold. He tasted like beer. He pulled you abnormally close to him, one arm holding you to his own body as the other went to your ass. He gripped it hard, and softly kneaded it as you sighed in satisfaction.

You were already losing it. His thumb caressed your skin, but his hold was harsh. His lips were soft, but his tongue was rough. It almost made you think he wanted you. His tongue dragged across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to him, letting him know you weren't going to offer any sort of resistance whatsoever. Even if for one night, you were all his, he could do whatever he wanted. Your head was a mess, wondering if you wanted him only sexually or whether you actually wanted him. For the longest time, he kept kissing you, not doing anything else. It made you needy but it also made you happy, that he wasn't willing to jump straight to the deed, get himself off and be done with it. Guys like that were terrible, you were speaking from experience.

But enough was enough, you wanted more. He wasn't wrong, you hadn't had the pleasure of being alone for long enough, uni was exhausting and you were just done with self-satisfaction, it always ended in anger with you. But finally, to your complete glee, he dragged his hands away from your waist, down to your sides as he held onto the back of your thighs. You understood, jumping as he rested your legs onto his hips, and he walked back to his love seat, a large bubbly cream chair, which was more like a single bed. He didn't detach your lips from him even once as he sat, until his back leaned against the chair and he finally pulled back. His eyes were dark, his gaze almost hazy, like he was drunk but you knew he wasn't, his actions were too sharp for it.

His hands then moved to your ass, slowly moving you on top of his hard-on as he watched you. The contact sent a bolt of electricity through your body, a soft moan escaping your lips. As he moved you, your mind directly went to how he manhandled you, moving you without any effort, and it only made you hornier. "Aegon I-" he didn't let you finish kissing your neck, but this time you weren't silent. Moans escaped your mouth like never before, like they were falling off your tongue. You had barely grinded on him but it was better than any vibrator session of yours. "Aegon please," you said. He knew exactly what you wanted. His hands left your hips, but that didn't stop you from moving at the rhythm he set. His fingers brushed your waistband, one pulling at it slightly, but he was going so slow. Did he want a puddle on his pants? "What do you want, baby?" he asked, the words going straight to your core. "Just touch me," you sighed, the movement not nearly enough to satiate your ever growing desires. He tapped your thigh, "get on my bed," he said.

Unwillingly, you got off him and sat on his bed, moments later he was on top of you, crawling almost like a predator. And he kissed your shoulder, slowly moving down your chest as far as the neckline would let him. You groaned in frustration. "Someone's impatient," he chuckled, tugging at your top. "You're killing me," you said, the whine evident in your voice, you'd cry if he waited any longer. "Alright, princess," he said, hands taking off your panties in one sweep, the cool air hitting you. He went back down until his head rested between your legs which he split away with his hands, eyes gleaming as he looked at you. He looked up at you, looking like he was salivating. "Is this what you want?" he asked. You nodded almost feverishly, face red with embarrassment. "She's dripping for me, is she not," he asked, kissing the inside of your thighs as he inched closer and closer. The frustration making your eyes cloud with tears. "Aegon please stop teasing me," you said. "So damn demanding, I guess I should've seen that coming," he said.

"But I guess you deserve to be so, look at you, so fucking perfect," he said as he finally let his tongue make contact with your centre. You gasped at the sensation, your hips jerking. "There we go," he said, throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he put a death grip on your hips, his tongue swirling around your clit, making you squirm. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, hands flying to grip his hair as slight mewls came from your mouth. But when he started to fuck you with his tongue, your mewls turned to moans. His name fell from your mouth attached to words of appreciation, heat coating you so fiercely you thought you were burning.

Your orgasm came to you out of nowhere, you felt out of this world, the knot in your stomach splitting, fire in your veins as you screamed his name, back arching as you saw stars, your thighs shaking, but he didn't stop one moment, eating you out through your high, only stopping when you fell back into the bed. Breathing so erratic. You looked down from your heavy lidded eyes to Aegon, who licked up the remnants of your orgasm like a dog. You felt so lightheaded as giggles fell from your mouth, his eyes catching yours, he looked so amused. "Someone's happy," he said, crawling back up as he rested on you, arms on either side of you as he smiled down at you. He wiped a tear from your face with his thumb.

Your giggles finally stopped as you looked at him. "How are you so good at that?" you asked, still breathless. "Practise," he said, running a finger up your torso to the t-shirt stuck to you from sweat. You felt a trail of goosebumps he left in wake from his touch. "You're so beautiful," he said, heat pooling into your centre at his words. You thought you'd be completely passed out from one orgasm, but the way he was making you feel made your body have other plans. "You're going to be all mine," he said, flipping you both so now he was semi horizontal and you straddled him. He took off your top, you willingly lifting your arms like the obedient girl you were for him. His eyes shining with mischief as he eyed your tits. "You've got to be kidding me, I should've taken this off sooner," he said, hands kneading both as he pulled you towards him, mouth on your chest in no time as he sucked on one while kneaded the other, and you began grinding against him. "No more time for teasing, princess," he said, patting your thigh as you got off him and he took off his pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, pre-cum coating his enlarged tip. You wondered if he'd get bruised if he waited any longer.

"You can blow me some other time, I don't think I have any more patience," he said, grabbing his own dick as he swirled the precum onto his tip, giving a few pumps before signalling you back with two fingers. Something you'd normally perceive as disrespectful but today, only made him hotter, and you climbed on top of him. Your hand replaced his as you guided him to your entrance. When his tip touched you, you wanted to cry out in satisfaction. "We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow," you said. "I'll buy you a fucking hospital, just let me fuck you right now," he said, your eyes shooting up to him. You might have teased him, but the lack of self control on you was much stronger than his impatience could ever be, and you slowly sunk onto him, and he watched your face contort in pain.

His hands rubbed your sides comfortingly. "It'll be okay, baby, just a little bit longer," he said, and you rested yourself onto him, forehead coming into contact with him as you felt him stretch your walls.

His touch on your side felt good, and you focused on that as you slowly moved, a new feeling replacing the pain bit by bit. He flipped you around again, his weight partially on you and partially on his arm as he brought up the other, he held your face to his. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, you shook your head. He moved very slow, but still, it felt good. And he kept moving, and the more he moved, the better it felt. "Faster Aegon," you said, voice barely audible as you felt something completely different for the first time. This really was nothing like the first guy. And then Aegon almost pulled out, making your eyebrows knit in confusion, but then he slammed back into you, your head falling back as you gasped. And he did it over and over again, getting faster as he watched you. Your hips moved in sync with his, your head thrown back as he felt your nails on his shoulder blade, one hand on his neck.

He lifted one leg of yours over his hip and began going at a fast, constant pace. Your gasps turned to moans, moans to screams as he got faster, and had you screaming "harder Aegon, harder," in no time. And harder he got. You were a mess by the time Aegon felt himself close. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," you were frantic, his movement emptying your thoughts completely. "Cum for me baby," he said, and you did, harder than ever before, he fucked you through your orgasm, spilling into you in no time, feeling your walls clench around him. He collapsed over you, breathing heavily as you did the same.

"Holy fuck, that's the best sex I've had in ages," he said, something about it being you making it different. He's fucked lots of girls, lots of firsts, and he did take care to be gentle, but never this gentle. It was different with you. He looked up at you, but you'd passed out, presumably too much for you. He smiled. Sweat coated you, and he could hear your heartbeat. He stayed like that for a minute or so before deciding to get more comfortable. He went to the bathroom, wetting a towel and coming back to the room. He cleaned your thighs, you jerked at the contact, but he continued. Once he reached your centre, you gasped, but remained asleep. He threw away the towel, climbing back into the bed. You slightly turned away as he pulled the comforter over you both, coming closer to you. The moment his skin touched yours, you sighed, moving closer to him. He let you rest your head on his arm, you moved your ass to perfectly fit into his touch, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you, still not finding sleep, but he did feel comfort. Your hair smelled sweet, you smelled sweet. Your body was made for him, he realised that the moment you leaned into his touch on that counter. He remembered the hint of strawberry on your tongue. You engulfed his thoughts and the more he thought of you, the heavier his eyes got. He passed out soon.

Aegon was a deep sleeper, but he woke up before you. Your back was to his chest, and he ran his fingers over your figure. He lifted himself up on his elbows, his movements making you turn and lie flat, face slightly towards him. His eyes went over your face, down to the marks he left on your neck, your chest, and down to your stomach where the sheets covered you. He felt himself getting hard as his fingers played with your breasts.

He found himself ripping away the sheets and lying on top of you, taking your tit into his mouth as he played with the other. You sighed. His mouth inched upwards. He lifted his head again as you opened your eyes. "What are you doing," you chuckled.

There was a raspiness in your voice that made his blood rush down to his cock even faster. "Enjoying nature’s gifts," he shrugged, moving slightly so you could sit up. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked around the room, grabbing the bottle of water. "This is so much better than waking up to Daeron’s crass screaming," you said, and he chuckled. He lifted himself up, connecting his lips with yours as you kissed back. "I haven't even brushed my teeth yet," you said laughing as you slightly pushed at his chest. "Let me enjoy the fruits of my labour," he shrugged, smiling at you. "What is that supposed to mean," you said, mirroring his expression. "It means you didn't even say good night," he said. "Well good morning," you retorted, letting out a slight squeal as he pulled you down.

"Good morning, princess," he said, connecting your lips again as his hand went between your legs. You moaned into his mouth at the contact. "Any special demands today?" he asked. You blushed. "I love it when you get shy," he said, removing his hands from you as he positioned himself aligned up with your entrance as he pushed himself in, the both of you moaning at the contact. There was no pain today, only pleasure as he started thrusting himself into you, lips coming up to kiss you so you didn't wake the whole house. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned his name into his mouth. It might've changed something in him because he got a lot harder, and suddenly, you gasped as he hit your sweet spot. He must've sensed it.

"Did you like that?" he asked, hitting the spot again and again as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten tremendously. "Oh god Aegon, please," you moaned. "Wait for me baby, wait for me," he said, feeling himself getting sloppier. "I can't hold on anymore," you said, tears building up into your eyes. "Come on then princess, cum for me," he said, biting your lower lip as you let go, feeling him spill inside you again. He fell on you as you were both panting. "Did you pass out again," he said. "No, I'm right here," you said as he looked up at you. Your fingers found themselves in his soft hair as you both looked at each other until you heard Joffrey running as he screamed "mommy" outside Aegon's door. Your eyes widened.

"Fuck, Rhaenyra's here" you whispered. "So?" he shrugged, eyebrows knit in confusion. "What if she finds us, more importantly, what if Auntie Ali finds us," you questioned. "They won't, even if they heard anyone, they'd just assume it was some one night stand, not you," he said. You liked how he excluded you from being a one night stand, but there were more important matters at hand. "Yeah but what happens when they don't find miss-sleeps-till-noon in her room at-'' you looked around, tapping his phone screen to check the time, "oh, well it's noon, no issue then I guess, I'll just sneak into my bathroom," you shrugged.

You almost screamed when there was a knock on Aegon's door. "Are you decent, Aegon?" came Alicent's voice. Your hands flew to your mouth, Aegon however seemed completely relaxed as he rested his face in your tits. "No mother," he simply said. "Well get down soon, everyone's here," she said as you heard her walking away.

Aegon began kissing your tits again, but you stopped him. "No, we need to get back now," you said. "They're gonna take like half an hour to settle down so you can sneak into your room, we can have our fun till then," he said, hands on your waist.

"No Aegon, please," you said, pleading eyes enough to make Aegon agree. He got up from you as you grabbed your sweatshirt discarded on the floor and put it on before looking for your underwear. "Looking for this," he said, holding up your panties with one finger as he sat back on his bed. Your face flushed as you snatched it away before putting it on, Aegon's gaze not leaving you once. You put your hair behind your fingers as your face scrunched up. "There's cum all over me," you frowned. "You didn't let me clean you up like last night," he shrugged. You smiled at him, sitting back on his bed next to him as you grabbed his face, kissing him again. "At least you didn't leave any marks," you said. But his amused face made you freeze. "You-you didn't, right?" you asked again. "Depends, what exactly do you mean by marks," he shrugged. You shot up, almost running to the large mirror that stood at one corner of the room.

You gasped, at your reflection, other than your messy hair and swollen lips, there was a trail of marks, at least two or three on your neck. You stretched your top down to see a few scattered over your breasts. You stuttered. "Aegon I-" you looked at him. "What am I gonna do?" you asked, eyes wide. He shrugged. You hit his shoulder as you'd walked back to him, but he only laughed at you as you sat. "Shut the fuck up," you scowled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it the next time," he said, leaning back onto his bed. You smiled at his words as you went back to sit on top of him.

"I thought we couldn't have fun," he quipped. "Oh shit you're right," you said, remembering your own words as you started to get off him, looking up at him again as he tightly held you in place. "You can't play with people like that, baby," he said, hands kneading your ass again. "I'm being for real Aegon, my stamina is nowhere near yours," you said, putting your arms around his neck again. "What the fuck are you running circles around the castle for every morning then?" he said, trying to catch your lips in his as you moved back slightly. "That's different, Aegon," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh really?" he said, mocking you. "Shut up," you said, letting him kiss you at his second attempt. "We gotta do this every day, I've got some fun positions to show you," he exclaimed. "Are you crazy, we can't do this everyday," you said, laughing at him. "Well how much time do you want in between every single best night of your life?" he questioned, you looked down as you blushed. "A week?" you questioned. "Are you crazy?" He imitated you.

You kissed him again. "I bet you one orgasm, you won't last three days," he quipped. "Wow ok, mr. gambling man," you said, accepting his deal nonetheless. "Hey, if you win, you get an extra orgasm, if you lose, you get an extra orgasm," he said, shrugging. You laughed, "wow that's some gambling skills right there, I think I just swooned," you said. "Oh I'll make you swoon," he said, flipping you guys around. "I was being serious, Aegon," you said.

[edwinisms]

seriously wondering why WW1 was never brought up at all throughout the show in regards to edwin and the life he was living before hell. I mean fuck we get a WW1 ghost in the FIRST EPISODE but edwin doesn’t say a single thing about his familiarity with the soldier’s garments and circumstances. you’d think that would come in handy in some way, or at least be an interesting thing to reference to emphasize edwin’s age (for lack of a better word) considering this was all during the expository section of the first episode.

1916 is directly in the middle of the Great War, and depending on how long edwin had been 16 by the time he died, he would’ve been somewhere between 1-2 years off from being conscripted and sent off to the trenches– ie; really not far, so it inevitably would be a huge weight on his mind at the time. since it was the middle of the war, he would’ve known decently well the horrors being faced out there– the mustard gas, the widespread illness, the shellshock– from newspapers and such, and I have to think that he’d feel like there was a clock ticking, counting down the days until he’d be sent to his inevitable death (considering he’s not the most athletic and physically resilient boy to say the least). and if he was exempted from conscription? it could very well be for “mental illness” and/or “moral indecency” if he didn’t hide his “effeminate” behavior well enough. all-around, it’d have to be an incredibly stressful time period for more reasons than just being bullied, alienated, and repressed at school– and yet we never hear about the elephant in the room. will they do something with it later? will it play into his family background in some way? for gods sake I need to KNOW

[leojurand]

funny thing about me reading all of peter wimsey and adoring it: i don't like mysteries. and this series didn't change my mind! i still didn't care much about the crime-solving in these books. that's not why i read them. i decided to try the series despite the genre because i always saw sayers's name mentioned at the same time as dunnett's, so i had to at least try. and what kept me going was the great writing and peter himself.

sayers had a gift for writing witty dialogue. if i had to think of an author who's on the same level as her when it comes to that, i would struggle. and you kinda need to be a master at writing witty dialogue if you have a main character like peter winsey. peter!! i think, while reading the series and talking about it on twitter, my most common reaction: peter my best friend :). one of the most lovable and maybe the most delightful protagonist i've ever had the pleasure of reading about.

i didn't always feel 100% connected to him. one of the things i dislike about mystery fiction is that (in my opinion) it's very episodic and so there's no overarching plot, and the characterization doesn't really take center stage. ask me about one favourite peter moment from bellona club or nine tailors and i could not tell you.

but the thing about this series is, it does end up having a sort of overarching plot that sees it's main characters grow and change and kinda gets them out of the "mystery of the week" formula that i think can make characterization stagnant. and that's the harriet vane storyline.

i can't tell how much better harriet makes peter (and i don't need to tell you because if you've read it, you know). seeing peter from the outside, or from the inside but in this situation that changes his priorities so much, was so good. their banter, their chemistry, their misunderstanding, the way harriet perceives peter, from her repressed feelings to her protectiveness and unconditional love. all of it makes peter a much more compelling character. not to say he wasn't before, because i adored peter from book 2 onwards. but harriet always brought the best in him.

i could say a million things more, but tl;dr is sayers has become one of my all time favourite authors, i will never forget peter wimsey, and i'm both incredibly happy to have read this series and so sad that it's over. now what :')

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR II

◤✘WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN | Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader ISSUE NO.#2

NOTES: ↳ So this took a fucking while because I was very sick and then by the time I could write I had lost the ideas I had and the inspiration to write it. Anyway this is considered as part 2 to Wolf At Your Door but can be read as standalone I suppose. Also there is no smut for this one because I just couldn't see it being in this part. WARNINGS! ↳ fluff — slightly possessive reader — Wanda and reader being a grump x sunshine couple — profanity — mention of protective reader — all about them pups really — small mention of Wanda's backstory — there's SITCOMS HERE — reader acknowledges the cheese of romcoms — marking — confessions and feels — I think that's it? SUMMARY: ↳ Never did you ever imagine that pups would become your future. No less, to Wanda Maximoff. Despite your odds and differences to begin with, perhaps you're willing to give this thing a shot.

✎ 2.9k

@alexawynters

↳ WANDA MAXIMOFF TAGLISTS

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“No.” 

It’s as simple as that as you push the trolley forward. Wanda pouts and as an act of defiance, she throws the colourful, tiny suit into the metal basket on wheels. You aren’t quick enough to repress the almost disgusted sigh. 

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks behind a scowl as you both continue your voyage down the aisle. “Yellow hurts me. Deeply.”

Was that a lie? Maybe. But did you instantly regret your answer when you see the flicker of disappointment in Wanda’s eyes? There’s no doubt about it. She reaches back into the trolley for the tiny suit, amongst the array of others you both had already picked out, most likely to place it back on the rack when you stop her. 

“Leave it.” She looks shocked when you prevent her from fishing it out of the selection. You only roll your eyes, the faintest of smirks on your lips. “I’ll just have to be blindfolded when I hold them.”

Wanda smiles a toothy smile - that perfect smile - in regards to your humour. You’d never been one at the party to crack jokes but sure as hell would win a joke match against Rhodey. Him and his fucking tank story. 

But Wanda is entertained deeply by the mental picture of you with a literal blindfold over your eyes as you cradle little wolf jr. A picture perfect snapshot already archived in the album in her mind. 

Already midway through the second trimester. Time is flying by so quickly. You both still hadn’t sorted out the crib yet and by that, you hadn’t. But all the cribs you and Wanda saw were made for one baby; two at best if you were really set on them sharing. 

But human cribs never accounted for four pups and you weren’t very impressed by the idea of building four separate cribs. Uh uh, that made your wolf brain go crazy. Your pups separated from each other? How would they bond with each other?

That was how you and Wanda got on the topic of a ‘den’ and nesting. Surprisingly she was on board with the idea from the start when you first told her your concerns about the pups being kept away from each other, that their bonding time would be hindered greatly if you both went about it the human way.

She’d agreed wholeheartedly. Not a huge case it took to convince her. 

Wanda and yourself roll into the next aisle and the first few racks were rows upon rows of socks and shoes meant to be fitted to tiny feet. 

Wanda laughs at the expression on your face and you give her a puzzling furrow, head tilting to the side like a confused dog. 

“What?”

“You,” she giggles, “didn’t expect our little rendezvous night to take so well, did you?” You merely shrug with a small noise, quick to cover it up you clear your throat loudly. 

“You brought it out of me. You should have known never to do that to a werewolf.”

Wanda smirks with a slight nod of her head. She’s double sure she doesn’t regret a single thing. There’s nothing she would trade for this feeling of her hand running over the large bump of her stomach that ferociously kicks with your pups. Four, healthy pups. 

There were still remnants of the aftershock back at the compound. The reveal that you and Wanda had slept together was talk of the compound for weeks before Wanda grew sick and with that, the test coming back positive. When you were able, Banner executed some further tests and you almost fainted right there on the spot when he congratulated on the four additions.

And not to mention the overstimulation on your part. Not only was Wanda a walking ball of ever changing hormones but you were in overdrive as well. Anytime someone made Wanda upset in the slightest you were on them in a matter of seconds. Fury had to call an emergency meeting in regards to keeping yourself in line throughout Wanda’s pregnancy. Not that it helped, you only grew to become fiercely protective over Wanda and your unborn pups. 

But for Wanda it was all she could want. Not to lie to yourself - your counsellor advised that lying to yourself is a bad habit - but you were happy as well. This was a secret dream come true. Wanda’s interest is piqued when she spots a set of black footed pyjamas with crescent moons on the pads of the feet and little pawprints scattered across the body. 

“Y/N, look!” she gapes as she holds the suit up for you to look at. Out of some maternal habit, she holds it against her bump and in that moment, it all hits you like a freight train. 

You were going to become a parent. A wolf parent. You wouldn’t be so alone anymore now with Wanda carrying your lineage within her womb. And she’s excited for it. Has been since the very beginning. To have such an opportunity before you now, you realise just how alone you were before. How fine you’d been being so alone before. 

But if you had a chance to go back in time, to stop yourself from entering Wanda’s dormitory that night, you realise now that you wouldn’t. 

Your lips part but no words come to mind. You’re drawn at a blank. All you can do is marvel at the inevitable coming of your pups. “I think we should get them, the pups will look so cute.” She grabs three more and places them in the trolley. 

‘Fucking hell…’

Wanda looks up from the haul and tilts her head curiously at the look you give her. Eyes wide, unblinking and just simply admiring her. Right there in that aisle of baby supplies. Not exactly one of those times in movies where the misunderstood, hardened love interest finally sees the sunshine protagonist in the highlight of their epiphany and has a complete one-eighty on their entire reality; but fuck, it was close enough. 

Seeing Wanda swollen large with your pups. It’s something that cannot - will not - be robbed from you. “You okay?” she asks softly and you nod slowly. 

“Yeah. Really good, actually.”

Ugh, those sitcoms and romcoms she’s made you watch are starting to rub off on you. You sound so fucking cheesy. She smiles wider this time and using a hand to flip some loose hair behind her shoulder, she beckons you to follow her. 

Maybe yellow isn’t such a bad colour. You can make it work.

Dinner time is rolling around and you check the time, just ten minutes past six. Wanda happily prepares dinner for both of you and your invited guests, her eyes occasionally lifting to watch the sitcom she’s adamant on watching.

At first, you didn’t get the fascination with a cast of characters just doing mundane things in one space only to have the laugh track and fade effect transition into the next location. 

However, Wanda was quite open with you about her life before Hydra took her and her brother. That she adored sitcoms from a young age, and one of the last memories she has is sitting down next to Peitro in front of the TV to watch an episode of the Dick Van Dyke show, her parents cuddled together on the couch. 

It was a raw scene to bear witness to. Her eyes flooded with tears. The only thing you could do in that moment was pull her to you in a tight embrace. The rest is history. One of your personal favourites was Bewitched, but you refuse to admit that to anyone. 

“How’s the project coming along?” Wanda asks as she stirs the contents in the pot around, giving it a little taste test. “It’s good,” you answer with a focused grunt, expertly working one of the last screws into place. 

“You’re following the instructions, right?” You don’t need to look at her to know her attention is elsewhere, she’s not even looking over at you. You roll your eyes, gaze momentarily glaring down at the booklet. 

You grumble to yourself under your breath. “Don’t need the instructions, werewolves don’t need fucking instructions.”

Wanda can’t suppress the grin on her lips at your huffing and wolfish grumbling. The pups were in for a treat with you, she can tell already. 

“Do human babies actually like these… knick knacks?” you ask rather unsurely. You stand the changing station up and brush your hand along the mobile. The colourful, plastic bits clink and sway. 

“Yeah!” she answers with enthusiasm. You only raise your brows more with worry. You weren’t set on having those little things dangle in front of your pups, just begging to be grabbed and chewed to bits. But that was a worried conversation for another time, a knock on the door alerts you both of your arrived company. 

You call out for them to enter as you busy yourself with putting aside the table. Natasha all but swaggers on inside, a box in her hands as her eyes glance between you and Wanda. 

“Good evening, how did the shopping go?” 

Wanda giggles at your reaction before she uses her stirring spoon to point at the haul you both had garnered today on your big voyage to the great danger beyond: the public. Sam, Steve and Clint walk in after Natasha, each wearing a smile of their own.

“You ready to have a crack at parenthood, Wolf?” Clint jokes and you shrug. “As ready as I could ever be.” 

Wanda begins serving up dinner when her eyes squint, accusation on the tip of her tongue. “We’re missing one,” she drawls and Steve chuckles lightly under the scrutiny of the witch’s gaze. 

“Bucky had to cancel last minute, small mission briefing.” Steve’s explanation is supposedly good enough for your little witch to accept but you see the judgement in her eyes. You chuckled, the wolf in your eyes spelling mischief as you look at Wanda from across the way.

“So lucky. If only I had a mission briefing too.” 

Wanda flicks her fingers at you, the tips of her fingers glowing with her scarlet magic when a knife flies your way. You catch it with a surprised guffaw. “Sweetheart, I thought we would save the knife play for later.”

Wanda looks at you with a narrowed gaze but her smirk speaks volumes to you. She’s silently challenging you and all you do is raise your brows, your tongue in your cheek. 

Sam is clearing his third plate of the masterpiece dish he insists is of five star quality. You hum teasingly under your breath, “I dunno, I think she tried to poison mine.” 

The others share in the banter with small laughs and their own opinions of their dish, all of which praise Wanda’s skills around the kitchen. 

But what was all your teasing but a mere altered projection of your deep, underlying affection for Wanda? As you talk and catch up with your friends at the dinner table, your hand seeks out Wanda’s under the table. When you find hers, your fingers intertwined together. A simple and small action but for you, it held more affection than many things that could overly express one’s love. 

You weren’t the type to show up at the door with a giant bundle of roses and balloons, with music blasting the greatest love song hits of the century. You always prefer to keep it small. Private. Intimate. 

So after another hour or so, your friends call their leave. “And remember, Tony’s hosting that huge baby shower for you guys next week,” Natasha reminds over her shoulder. A shudder attacks your spine and you inwardly growl. Tony would of course play out the entire thing as an act of being the ‘fun and cool uncle’ but really, it was another dig for getting the car done up good on your mission. 

“He knows I hate his parties,” you mumble to her once you’re both alone. She’s in the kitchen finishing up the washing when you walk up behind her. It’d been a big day for you both. It feels good for it to just be the two of you know. 

Your arms circle around her waist and pull her in close, her back flush against your front you take the opportunity to bury your nose into her neck. She giggles loudly, cringing as she tries to wriggle away from you.

“What’s wrong?” you coo with a playful nip to the shell of her ear. “I’m ticklish there!” she squeals but you continue to feign knowledge.

“Oh? Are you now?”

“Yes!”

You laugh, cool, rich and deep. A husky drawl while you continue to nuzzle into her neck, inhaling her calming scent. Your hands balance on the rise of her swollen stomach, the kicks strong and prominent against the light pressure of your hands. 

“They know it’s you,” she cannot help but say with a smile. Something about your pups being able to recognise your touch makes her heart flutter and it makes something in you inflate. Pride. 

Your pups knew you by touch already. You just knew they were excited by the mere presence of your hands - of you - being so near. You smile. “Because they know I’ll protect them. Protect you.”

“You know… you never did mark me.”

You freeze for a moment, hesitant on how to answer her. What could you say to that? But Wanda turns around to face you and draws you into a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips capture yours and her tongue teases the line of your mouth. 

“I don’t care what reservations you have about this relationship, or that you plan on sleeping with other people. But please, I just want to feel some semblance of love, that I belong to you.”

You frown at this and immediately, your hands find the edges of her jaw to lift your tearful eyes to yours. “Wanda,” you sigh in disbelief, “take a look inside. What do you see?”

She gives you a look of scepticism and you huff deeply through your nose, a wolf behaviour to further urge her to comply. She does so, closing her eyes and taking a moment to read your thoughts. This is the first time you’ve given her permission to take a look inside your mind.

“You see anyone else?” She shakes her head in response. “That’s because there is nobody else. There’s only you.”

You sink to your knees so you’re at eye level with the baby bump. Wanda watches you, eyes wide and jaw slack. Whatever antics you were getting up to, she’s at a loss. When has she ever seen you become a mushy mess for anything? When Wanda looked at you, she never put affection as part of your resume. You and the factor of affection or anything to do with a loving relationship were just two opposite ends of the spectrum.

She didn’t believe you were ever capable of such adoration and devotion. “There’s never been anyone else. It’s always just been me. That’s how it used to be before… this.” Your nose pushes against her bump and you feel the pups kick again. 

You grin this time before your eyes lift up to see Wanda, her button lip jutted out in a pout. Her bright eyes coated with hot tears.

“Little witch, I’m not… I’m still very new to all this. But I’m telling you now that I want to have a go.” You pause and swallow thickly. “I don’t want it to just be me anymore. I want it to be us.”

“Then make it an us. That’s all I want.” 

You hear the plea in her whisper and you rise up to your full height, staring down at her. Your hands cradle her face in your hold, you simply take the moment to admire in her eyes what you once mistook for lust; that you now see as love. 

“It’ll hurt for a second,” you inform her as you slowly tilt her head so her neck is bared for you. “But I promise it’ll be for just a second.”

She nods and you take that as your go ahead. This is where the lone road ends for you. No more being alone. 

She closes her eyes with the growing anticipation and you bare your prolonged fangs, inching them closer to the sensitive skin of her neck, hovering over the spot you’d nuzzled just prior. Right where she was ticklish. 

With a final, deep breath you close the distance and plunge your canines and her body locks up, a yelp on her lips you tug her in closer to you. Your body is a silent assurance that she’s alright. That she and your pups will be alright. 

She feels it in her core, a whirlwind that sweeps her like a heavy storm. Like wind blowing in her face and drawing the air from her lungs. Right beneath the surface of her skin tingles and becomes ignited with that binding fire. When you pull away with a breathless exhale, your dazed eyes glowing, it takes you a moment of swaying to become stable again.

“Fuck,” you both groan softly, noses brushing together as your lips dance over one another, their connection ghostly but the radiance of your new connection a fiery and passionate spark to the touch. 

Wanda smiles and her flushed cheeks indicate her flustered embarrassment. You chuckle deeply and lift her chin up with your fingers so she meets your hungry, wolfish gaze. 

“You’re mine now.” Her hand finds purchase on her stomach, and yours falls over the top of hers. “And they are our pups.”

[juuuulez]

Hello :) Carl x F!Greene!Reader, Reader and Carl had been pining for each other since they met at the farm but they haven't had a chance to talk about it TO CONFESS so basically more than friends but no label. Back in s5e15 Carl chases Enid when he spots her climbing over the wall. And in the tree scene where they almost kissed, Reader somehow spots them(was on a walk to relieve stress) I am such a sucker for ANGST. You have full reign of how the story will go! Ty v much :))

Little Pleasures.

info: S5Carl x Greene! Reader, technically no pronouns used but u can fill that in mentally, kids being stupid.

summary: You catch Carl and Enid sharing an intimate moment, and can no longer repress your feelings for the Grimes’ boy. Luckily, he intends on making it right.

this was soooo cute to write!!! plss send more request i loved doing this!

You’ve learnt to enjoy the little things in life.

Seeing your sister, Maggie, happy with Glenn filled you with joy. Carol would sometimes bring over cookies, and promised to teach you the recipe. Once Daryl found an old music box while on a supply run, and brought it back for you.

But your favourite little pleasure? Well, that was easily Carl Grimes.

Whenever you were sad, he’d notice, and let you read his comics. He was perceptive like that, and could sense your emotions from a mile away. Maybe he, too, felt this deep sense of sadness, an ache that never went away.

After the death of your father and sister, that ache became all consuming. Some days you couldn’t bare to get up, and yet those where the days Carl turned up, standing on your porch. Throwing stones at your window.

Once again, it was these little things that made life worthwhile. You liked to think that Carl enjoyed your company as much you did his.

Sure, back at the prison Beth had egged you to make a move on him, as it was no denying how the sheriff’s boy made your heart sore. Back then, it was a silly little crush, one you’d indulge in just to pass the time. But now it was impractical. Seeing everybody you loved perish numbed you, and growing attached to Carl would only result in further turmoil.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

So why did seeing Carl with Enid hurt so much?

Whenever you were particularly sad, a walk seemed to help. Except for now, crouched behind a bush watching Carl and Enid hiding in a tree, their faces inches away. It made you feel sick.

Why was he with her? Did she have something you didn’t? Was she prettier? Could understand his comics better?

Your mind ran rampage, the embarrassing feeling of hot tears spilling into your cheeks. This was pathetic. You’d sworn that Carl meant nothing to you, and yet you couldn’t handle seeing him with someone else.

In a hurry, you took off, scurrying back to Alexandria. No more walks. No more going outside. No more little pleasures.

That was until late at night, when the familiar tapping on your window returned.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

“Stop it!” You shout, moving to pry your window open just before Carl can throw another stone. It makes your insides feel warm and fuzzy, the sight of him standing there, hair messy under his hat. You’d missed him.

“Will you come down?” He asks in a plea, speaking in this whisper-shout in an attempt not to wake the whole neighbourhood. “I haven’t seen you all day. Thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting nothing more than to banish him from your sight. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.”

It was harsh, childish venom dripping from your tone as you slam the window shut, the harsh action vibrating against the wall. Sniffling, wiping messily at your eyes, you sat back down on your bed.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

You groan into your pillow, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs against the bedding. Why won’t he give up?

At your lack of response, there’s silence. It sounds like Carl’s gone home. Good. Now you can avoid him all day, all night, and never have to see him that close to Enid again. She can have him.

Only a few minutes later there’s a knocking at your door. You tilt your head out of the pillow, looking across the room. However, before you can give permission, the door is opening, revealing Carl once more.

“I said I didn’t want to talk to you!” You scold him, and in a fit of aggression, throw your pillow over at the boy.

He catches it seamlessly, throwing it into the bed as he approaches you. “Why the hell not? I got a new edition of Hawkeye. Thought you’d want to read it.”

“Why don’t you read it with Enid?” You mumble, turning away from him to face the opposite wall. This all seems so childish and stupid, the exact thing you wanted to avoid by distancing yourself from Carl.

There’s a beat of silence.

The bed dips slightly, a warm presence filling the space next to you. It takes everything within your power not to look at him.

“Enid doesn’t like comics,” Carl tells you, his voice quiet and sincere, like he can sense how upset you are no matter how irrational. “I wanted to see you today. But you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

You roll your eyes, and with one motion, fall back onto your bed with a huff. “I thought I didn’t want to be near you. Incase… I started enjoying it too much.”

You’re met with silence again, like an indication to continue. At least, that’s how you take it.

“Something bad’s gonna happen, Carl. It always does. And I don’t want… to be too sad, when you get hurt. Or when I get hurt.”

There’s a gentle thud as Carl falls back onto the bed, laying next to you over the covers. You don’t look at him, but he’s looking at you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asks, “It’s okay to be scared… but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do things that make you happy.”

You don’t respond, too embarrassed to admit the feelings that have been eating you up inside. The words you can’t seem to push past your lips, no matter how hard you try.

Luckily, Carl does it for you.

“Do I make you happy?”

It’s an innocent question, yet makes your face flush red, ashamed that he’s been able to pick you apart so easily. If your reaction wasn’t obvious enough, you meekly nod in confirmation.

If you were facing Carl, you’d see the smile that spread across his face.

“You make me happy, too. More than you could understand.” He tells you, an admission that warms your heart.

Finally, you look over at him, and find that Carl is closer than you anticipated. He’s taken his hat off, resting further on the bed, brown hair messily splashed out on the sheets.

A smile of your own makes its way onto your face, feeling understood in a way that’s become so foreign. This couldn’t get any better.

Until it did.

“Can I… kiss you?” Carl asks, an innocent request that reignites that fire within you, the one you’ve been ignoring for so long.

When you speak, it comes out in a nervous whisper, “Please.”

For the first time in months, you’ve found something that truely makes you happy. A little pleasure above all.

The way Carl gently places his lips on yours, hands cupping your face like it were made from porcelain, that you may shatter under his fingers. He’s nervous, but that’s okay. You’re nervous, too.

You could definitely get used to this.