#like yes she can kill you with one finger but that won't be her first choice

[talaok]

Old Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.

warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)

Ellie was the one to start it all,

I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.

Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.

“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.

"Hey-" He'd protested,

"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"

And well from then on things had... escalated.

You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.

You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.

"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"

He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.

"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"

"I don't need glasses"

"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"

"'m sure alright" he grumbled

"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"

"darlin'"

"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful

"I don't need 'em"

And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.

Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.

He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.

It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.

"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"

But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.

As I said, he was struggling.

A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...

"Let me do it"

"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.

"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly

And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid

"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.

"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.

"What did you just say?"

A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-

He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.

"Jesus babe" you laughed,

"What did you say?"

His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.

You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered

"I said I'm sure you could"

"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"

"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes

"You know what"

"no I don'-"

But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours

"you called me an old man, darlin'?"

He was a different man from a minute ago.

This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.

"Baby I was jokin-"

"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"

Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.

You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-

"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"

"J-Joel" you whimpered

"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"

When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror

"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear

"y-yes"

"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"

You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.

"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him

"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned

The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.

"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision

"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"

Oh shit

Oh fucking shi-

If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.

You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.

"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"

"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure

"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"

But it was- Oh it was more than enough.

And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.

You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-

And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.

Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"

It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.

he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.

"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly

"You're not an old man" you promised

"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could

"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity

He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.

"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes

"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"

"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"

"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly

"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"

[bi-writes]

the knock at his door is a ferocious one. it rattles the hinges, shakes the doorway. it is not a kind knock. it is the knock of anger, of impending terror, of death at his door, but he knows that if he doesn't answer, he will be even more sorry. (ghoap x curvy!fem!reader, 18+, smidge of dark)

johnny isn't happy. he yanks the door open, glaring, knowing who is on the other side. his superior, his lieutenant, the fucking tart that started this whole thing in the first place, the bastard that stands a few inches too tall, is that what she sees in him, too tall, is that much bigger than me, the fucking--

"dinnae want t'talk to ye, ye fuckin'--"

"'f y'know wot's fuckin' good f'ya, you'll shut y'r fuckin' mouth," ghost snaps. his accent is thick and gravelly. he moves over the threshold, pushing johnny back, his eyes dulling over as he presses an accusing finger against johnny's chest. "y'r gonna pick up the bloody phone, 'n y'r gonna call 'er."

"she's a right--"

ghost hisses, a heady growl coming out roughly as he grips johnny around the throat and slams him against the nearest wall. the entirety of it shakes, and the pictures there nearly fall, and johnny chokes as he tries to scramble, but ghost is too strong, too rough, too overpowering. there is something behind his movements, some purpose, and it makes something acidic bubble in johnny's throat.

"don't you fuckin' dare finish that sentence," ghost snarls. "don't care wot it is y'think y'feel, do y'really wanna have tha' on your conscious, y'fuckin' bastard, yeah? want her t'know tha' is the last thing y'called her?"

johnny sputters. he's gasping for air, but it's hard, and his eyes water. even though johnny hates him, even though he loathes the man he used to admire, he knows ghost is right. his lip trembles. it wouldn't be right to say it, it wouldn't be right to call you anything other than what you are, and that is beautiful, bonnie, the stars in the sky and the water in the soil and the dream he always has but cannot remember but one he knows is all he wants and more.

"ye took 'er from me," johnny gasps. "took her from me, and she's all i've ever wanted..."

"took nothin' from ya. now call 'er," ghost growls. "pick up the phone, and y'call her. she's hysterical. 'n i won't 'av it."

"ye won't 'av it? fuck off with ye!"

ghost tilts his head to the side, using his forearm now and pinning johnny to the wall. they meet eyes, and even though johnny pulls a brave face, he is staring at a man who clawed his way out of his grave. a man that endured days of torture and inexplicable horror, that knew the taste of his own blood from another's. johnny is strong-willed, but this is a battle he will not win.

"won't tell ya again," ghost mutters. "i mean tha'."

johnny's tired. he loathes. he hates. he feels sick. he wants to claw and kill and blow something up, but then ghost is letting him go, he's taking in full breaths, and there's a voice in his ear suddenly, an unfamiliar sound of a beautiful voice that he knows. she's crying.

"johnny? j-johnny, i-is that you?"

"mmmph," he coughs. "mmm..."

even riddled with sadness, you sound as pretty as always.

"johnny, i'm sorry," you whimper. he can picture your face, probably a gorgeous pout, tears gathering along your cheeks that normally are from the brunt of his cock, but now they're the proper response from your panic. "johnny, i'm...i'm so sorry--"

"'s..." he hums. "'s a'right, lovey. shhh. quiet."

"johnny, please--please come home, i-i...i can't stand this, i don't want to...i-i--"

"told ye to quiet," he murmurs. "quiet."

and you do, but he knows there's tears, he knows you're probably still there on the other side, your cries muffled into your hand. you probably still look so beautiful, probably sitting there in one of his jackets and nothing else, perched on the bed he shares with you and looking like an entire meal.

"ye lied to me, bonnie," johnny tuts, and ghost steps closer, into his space. watch it, his eyes say, and johnny glares. "why did ye lie?"

you whine, "i didn't know what to say...i...i just thought--"

"ye thought what?" johnny prods. "ye thought i would nae find out about it all? what did ye think, what the bloody fuckin' hell did ye--"

ghost walks forward, enough that johnny is pressed flat against the wall. ghost leans down, tilting his head, close enough that he feels the warmth of johnny's breath as they stare down each other.

"say y'love 'er, johnny," ghost mumbles in his ear. he comes closer, one thick thigh fitting between johnny's legs. "say it."

johnny swallows. "i love ye, bonnie."

a quiet whine, and then your soft voice, "i-i love you so much, johnny--"

"say y'want her, johnny," ghost encourages him, in that low voice that is starting to make johnny's head a little lighter.

"i miss ye," johnny whispers. "sorry for not having me head on right, love..." he hisses when ghost pinches him. "ahh--i want ye. want yer bonnie face...yer bonnie cunt...got to know it. got to know how much i want ye."

ghost shuts his eyes when he hears your breaths. desperate, a little emotional, that beautiful lilt that drew him in the first time.

"tell 'er ye want to eat 'er, johnny," ghost hums. "tell 'er she tastes like sweets." ghost comes closer, his pelvis against johnny's, and there is no space between them. johnny's blue eyes are bright, pupils dilated, and when ghost opens his eyes, they stare at each other, some kind of understanding that they have never had before.

they've been to the same place. they've seen the same eden. the love of the same woman, the taste of the same forbidden fruit, the kind of thing that men like them dream of having but give up for the sake of their sanity--

"want to eat ye, love..." johnny sighs, and his eyes flutter when ghost reaches up and smooths a gloved hand along his throat. his adam's apple bobs, he is so alive, and ghost tuts lowly as he speaks. "taste so good...think about it all the time...about getting under yer skirt," he sighs deeply when ghost's hand moves lower, against his chest, "cum so nice, bonnie, when ye sit on m'face..."

"j-johnny--" ghost grits his teeth when he hears you. pretty baby girl, probably squeezing your thick thighs together, maybe leaning over to show off your soft hips to no one in particular, tits pressed together because your hand is drifting low and circling against you because he knows you probably aren't wearing any fucking knickers, "anything for you, baby...you know i would, you know i'd do anything..."

"i know, my pretty," johnny coos. "will ye wait for me? will ye wait before ye get ahead of yerself, love? ye will, yer a good girl..."

"y-yes--" you whine. "y-yes, i'll wait for you...please come back...please--"

"should i bring back yer keeper?" johnny asks. blue eyes on dark ones, the look of a thousand words, the look of newness, of acceptance, of the power of two being so much greater than one.

two gloved fingers make their way down his throat. petting johnny's pink tongue, stuffing him full, reminding him of his place, where he truly is, where he belongs and where he is always meant to be. he relaxes his throat, and ghost snarls, satisfied, when johnny takes the girth of it easily. he touches the back of johnny's throat, and ghost's eyes flash when he hears your sweet voice on the other end.

"simon...i know you're there. be nice. or we won't get to play."

[delaber]

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Words: 5.3K

Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers

Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.

Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.

According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.

For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.

"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.

Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.

"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"

He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.

His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.

"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.

"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"

It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.

Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.

"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"

"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."

Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.

"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."

"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."

Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.

Something really bad must've happened...

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.

You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.

You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."

He nods again.

"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.

Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.

"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.

He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.

"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.

Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 

"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?

He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."

Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.

"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.

From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.

"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"

You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."

Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"

He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.

"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."

"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."

At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"

"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."

You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.

"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.

"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"

"You good?"

"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."

You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.

"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."

"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.

"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."

Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.

"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."

Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.

The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.

Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.

You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.

"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.

"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.

Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.

Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"

"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"

"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.

Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.

With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.

"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.

He wants you to join him.

To wash him.

Take care of him.

The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.

"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.

With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.

He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."

"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.

The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.

Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.

"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.

Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."

"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.

He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.

"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"

"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.

"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."

You look up into his eyes.

He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.

"I know, Buck."

"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.

"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.

He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.

You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.

Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."

You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.

"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."

You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -

"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."

"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.

"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."

You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.

"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."

"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.

"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.

"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.

"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."

"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."

"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."

"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."

"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.

You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.

"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."

"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."

"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.

"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.

"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.

Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.

"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.

"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.

The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.

You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.

"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.

You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.

"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."

You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.

"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.

"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.

"I love you too."

"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."

You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.

He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."

"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."

"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.

"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."

With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.

His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"

"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.

He's finally smiling and it's because of you.

"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."

You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."

"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.

"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."

[david-talks-sw]

Hello. You and GFFA are probably the two most reliable blogs I know when it comes to what GL actually intended with star wars and also have the most on point finger on the pulse of fandom and such without letting the discourse get to you. So I just have to ask. Where does the idea of the jedi being space cops come from in canon? Especially in more left leaning circles. Haven't they seen that there are indeed actual cops in SW? And who are portrayed like how leftists view cops?

Hey there!

Firstly, it's always an honor when someone puts me and Lumi in the same sentence 😃 been a while since I reminded people, but my blog started because I read hers (and a few others) and I was like "oh shit she makes great points!" and started doing the research on my own.

I mostly attribute my rediscovering my childhood love for the Jedi to her early meta posts. Like, you think I'm good, wait til she gets started again! So thank you, for that!

Onto the subject itself: I've seen the notion pop up in all circles. And it's not exactly wrong, it's just not entirely accurate.

You can find a large collection of George Lucas quotes here, about the Jedi's place in the Republic.

You will see that he uses varying terminology and that's what I think partially muddies the waters.

For example, early on, Lucas describes them as "police officers", but years later he says "they're not cops, they're Marshalls of the Old West" but actually "they're mafia dons" or "intergalactic therapists."

But the one that explains it best, for me, is the following:

"They're not like [the kind of] cops who catch murderers. They're warrior-monks who keep peace in the universe without resorting to violence. The Trade Federation is in dispute with Naboo, so the Jedi are ambassadors who talk both sides and convince them to resolve their differences and not go to war. If they do have to use violence, they will, but they are diplomats at the highest level. They've got the power to send the whole force of the Republic, which is 100,000 systems, so if you don't behave they can bring you up in front of the Senate. They'll cut you off at the knees, politically. They're like peace officers. As the situation develops in the Clone Wars they are recruited into the army, and they become generals. They're not generals. They don't kill people. They don't fight. They're supposed to be ambassadors." - The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

Bottom line: yes, they're authority figures. But they're not "beat cops" chasing after robbers and criminals.

They're, first and foremost, ambassadors/negotiators/diplomats. They're police for planets and their governments, not the people of the Republic. Again:

They're peace officers.

Now, they can investigate and take more active "police-like" roles during their mandate, but they're not gonna be called upon to investigate a murder (unless that murder is very strange and local authorities are unable to make sense of it).

It's why, when Anakin is talking about "we'll search for the killer, Padmé" Obi-Wan is like "uuuuh... no we won't?"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Bed

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda vs Big Bed

You appear like a phantom in the night.

Magda shifts in bed a little bit. It's strange to have someone in bed with her even if it is someone as lovely as Pernille. It's been two days since you both moved in and it's still a surprise (a welcome one, of course) when Magda rolls over to find a body lying next to her.

It's a surprise but it is to be expected.

What isn't to be expected is the presence standing by the side of the bed.

Magda jolts, letting out a shocked squeak (a sound that she will never admit to making) before her eyes adjust to the low light. You're just standing there, staring.

You've got girl-swan in one hand and girl-moose in the other. You stand by the bed. You don't move. You don't say anything. You just stand there and stare.

Magda rubs her eyes to check she's not hallucinating.

(She's not).

"Princesse?" She says, still groggy and confused," What's wrong?"

You peer closer at her like you've just realised that she's not who you're looking for. There's barely any light so that could be the case as you wander to the other side of the bed and poke Pernille in the back.

Magda doesn't even think Pernille's fully awake as she rolls onto her back and lifts you up and under the covers. You yawn and wriggle to get comfortable before you rest your head on Pernille's chest and immediately go to sleep.

Magda doesn't get a wink after that.

She stays awake for the entire rest of the night, lying on her back and staring at the way you've just so easily invaded her bed.

"Hmm," Pernille murmurs," Good morning."

"She's in the bed," Magda whispers, hyperaware of the fact that you're still asleep.

"Yes?" Pernille looks confused, her fingers gently combing through your hair.

"She can't sleep in our bed! She'll become codependent!"

"Oh, Magda," Pernille says," She's little. Sleeping in the big bed won't kill her."

"It's our bed!" Magda insists," She has her own bed! She can't just come in whenever she likes! You didn't see her, she walked in like she owned the place!"

"She's adjusting," Pernille replies," She slept with me all the time at Wolfsburg."

Magda sighs. "This is like that dummy all over again."

Pernille chuckles, leaning over you to kiss Magda. "She's only little. Let her have this."

At first, Magda thought that it was something you would only do every so often. Maybe a few times a month. She could deal with that but, after catching you sneaking in for the fourth night in a row, Magda puts her foot down.

"No," She says firmly, getting out of bed and picking you up.

You frown. "Why?"

"Because you're a big girl and big girl's sleep in their own beds."

Morsa's saying a lot of English at you and that's a bit annoying. All you can really tell is that she's not letting you sleep with her and Momma.

You swing your legs a little and huff. You reach out for the doorframe but don't manage to quite latch onto it and Morsa walks you straight back into your room.

"Want!" You say in your limited English but Morsa just tucks you up nice in bed.

She checks the batteries of your nightlight before making sure you have both girl-swan and girl-moose. "Stay," She says," This is your bedroom and your bed."

You stubbornly glare at her as she exits the room, shutting the door behind her.

You wait a few seconds before getting out of bed again. You open your door. You decide that you're not going to stand at Morsa's side of the bed if she's going to treat you like this.

Momma will let you into the Big Bed if you want.

"No, princesse."

Morsa was waiting by your door. She picks you up again and doesn't let you go no matter how much you try to wriggle away.

You pout at her.

"Want!"

"I know," Morsa says with a little chuckle," Trust me, I know. But that's Momma and Morsa's bed. It's not your bed. This is your bed."

"Your bed!"

"No, this is Princesse's bed. This is where you sleep because you're Princesse."

She tucks you in again, pulling the sheets all the way up to your chin as she kisses you.

You don't want her kisses. You want her Big Bed.

"Stay here," Morsa says firmly," Because this is your bed and you need to sleep."

You whine. "Your bed!"

"No. How about this? I'll sit with you until you fall asleep? Would you like that?"

You shake your head. "Your bed!"

"It's this or nothing," Morsa warns you and you finally give in.

"You!"

"Okay," Morsa says. She sits next to you in bed and gently runs her hand through your hair, drawing little patterns at the base of your head.

It's soft and reassuring and you drift off quite quickly no matter how much you want to fight for the Big Bed.

Magda smiles when you finally go limp and gently moves out from next to you, laying you down properly on your pillows.

She feels proud of herself as she slips out of your room. She waits by the door to listen in for the pitter-patter of your little feet but they never come.

That was much easier than weaning you off your dummy.

(If only she knew how badly this would come around to bite her on the butt).

[washeduphazbin]

Could I get a one shot of, y/n is like Adam’s life ex gf she left after getting tired of his shit.. ended up falling in love with Lucifer.. (Mr. Steal yo girl thrice) and during the Adam and Lucifer battle Lucifer taunts that he stole all three of his lovers

YES. YES. I'm in love with Lucifer. Your wish is my command.

Sorry it's so short if we like maybe part 2

Also, poly luci x reader x Lilith (sorry, not sorry)

———

“Little duck?” Lucifer asked softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You were holding onto one of his plush ducks rather tightly,

"I can't help but think...that this extermination is my fault." Lucifer let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, "Lulu-"

"I won't have that negative self-talk in my house." Your brow furrowed in distress,

"But-"

"No buts."

"Lucifer! Adam's absolutely moved up the extermination to spite Charlie and us!" You argued, "I...what if I go back to him."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I don't want to!" You moved away from him to the portrait of Lilith, you and Lucifer hanging in the corner of the room. "I really don't want to..." You raised your hand and brushed against Lilith's horns and Lucifer's staff in the portrait. "You know I don't belong here; I'm not a demon, a sinner, or an angel either. I'm just a human who fell because I fell in love with you and your family." You smiled sadly over at him, holding out your hand. Lucifer squeezed it tightly, "What if I can solve all of this by just going back with Adam."

"That's not happening; I'm not letting you go back to that fuckwad;" He scoffed, brushing a hand through your hair, "Do you think you'll be happier with him? Without us? Without Charlie?"

"No." You laughed bitterly, "Of course not, Charlie would kill me."

"She absolutely would. You're like another mother to her; she wouldn't let you go back to that hellscape without a fight. Neither will I; I have a few words I'd love to share with Adam."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"I'm sure you'll get to hear it eventually," he mused, leaning closer to kiss your cheeks. "Just stay safe and stay away from the Hotel until Charlie or I give you the okay, okay?"

"Okay." You whispered softly, bending down to plant a kiss on his lips,

"Did you really have to bend down like that," He huffed, hitting you gently with his cane.

"Oh, absolutely."

---

"Stay home? STAY HOME?" You roared, grabbing Lucifer's shoulders, "Everyone dying, and you want me to stay home!"

"For your safety and everyone's safety. Yes." He squeezed your shoulders tightly, "If it's between you and Charlie, I-"

"You choose Charlie every time."

"I love you-"

"I know. I love you too." You smiled softly, "Kick Adam in the dick for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady. Here," Lucifer handed you his phone, "It'll live stream the battle; I hacked a VoxTech drone." He puffed his chest out proudly, and you beamed, taking his phone from his hands.

"I can't wait to see Adam get dick punched in HD!"

"There's the bloodlust I love so much; if I didn't have to go save Hell, I'd totally fuck you right now."

"Then you better leave now so you can come back and fuck me as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave the dorkiest salute before teleporting out of the room.

---

"I am going to FUCK you!"

"It's fuck you up...dad."

Your face palmed, curling up on the bed, Lucifer's phone in your hand, watching the live stream.

"What? What did I say? Oh Shit-" Lucifer burst into laughter as he transformed into a snake to avoid being hit by Adam, "So this is what you've been up to since Eden, huh? I gotta you really let yourself go, buddy."

"Are you judging me?" Adam snarled in a disbelieving laugh, "You're the most hated being in all of creation!" Lucifer snickered as he turned into a bird,

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer, or the second bow chica. Wow, wow!" He splayed his fingers out in a V shape and stuck his tongue in between his fingers, "Not to mention your third."

"I'm sorry what!" He snarled,

"Oh, you didn't know? (Y/n)'s a doll, the tightest pussy Lilith and I've EVER shared!"

You made a horrified sound at the phone, wanted to absolutely curl up into a ball and die, Charlie didn't look any better.

"Dad!"

"You are so dead!" Adam shouted, "And I'm gonna find that bitch, and I'm going to make her pay!"

"Sure you are," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

[wandanatsgf]

Scream

Pairing: Serial Killer!Natasha x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

Warnings: This is very lightly based off of scream, but I obviously changed things and made it my own. This contains killing, kidnapping, knife kink, blood licking, mommy kink, restraints, slapping, degradation, praise, knife fucking (the handle), thigh riding, noncon, finger sucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, and fingering. I think that's everything, but I might have missed something. I wrote this in an hour so please ignore any mistakes. This is also my first time writing something dark, so I hope you enjoy :)

"Come on baby, are you sure you don't want to go to the party?" your girlfriend asks you as you sit on some benches outside. "It'll only be us, Wanda, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Carol, and Vision."

"Yes, Natasha I am. I don't want to get killed," you explain for the umpteenth time.

"Please baby. I'll be there to protect you." Your girlfriend flexes her muscles as she says this. You let out a little laugh, although your girlfriend's gun show has got you a little hot and bothered.

"Fine Natty. I'll go but you better protect me." Your finger digs into her chest slightly as you point a finger at her, trying to get your point across.

"Don't worry baby. I'll always protect you," she says. She leans in and kisses you on the lips and you reciprocate.

"I'll see you tonight then," Nat says.

"I guess you will," you say. You both walk off to class, walking together until you have to go opposite ways.

Once you get home you quickly get ready for the party. You throw on a short dress and some heels before walking out the door. The drive to Tony Stark's mansion, where the party is being held, is quick. You're there before you know it. You park your car next to your friend's cars and walk inside.

"Hey Y/n you made it!" your friend Bucky says.

"Yeah I did. Natasha actually convinced me to go. Speaking of her have you seen her?"

"I did earlier. She's around here somewhere, but I'm not sure where."

"Thanks Buck," you say. You make your way around the house in search of you red-headed lover.

You search everywhere for her when you finally see her coming out of the garage with a bottle of wine in her hands.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," you say.

"Sorry baby. I just needed another drink," she says.

"What happened there?" you ask, pointing at the red stain on your girlfriend's shirt.

"Tony got a little too drunk and spilled some wine on me."

"Of course, he would do that," you say, laughing at his drunken antics.

"Come here princess." Natasha pulls you against her with one hand while the other holds her bottle. She presses a kiss to your lips and she tastes like the wine she has been drinking.

"Come here baby. I wanna dance with you," Natasha says. She pulls you against her body with one hand while the other holds on to her bottle. Your hips move together to the beat. You feel yourself get lost in the music until a scream breaks you out of your trance. You look around to see the source of the scream when a white-faced Carol emerges from the bathroom. Everyone gathers around to look, and the sight makes you sick. Wanda and Vision are laying in the tub, dead. They both have stab wounds right to the heart, they stood no chance.

"Oh my god," you let out. You can hear someone throwing up in the background and you're unsure if it's from the alcohol or the sight before you.

"We need to get out of here," you here Sam say. He tries the front door, but it won't budge. You all run to the back door and that too is stuck.

"Guys we're trapped," Tony says. You could've heard a pin drop.

You can hear Bucky start to freak out, and you don't blame him. You're starting to freak out too.

"What are we going to do Nat?" you ask your girlfriend.

"We just need to find a way out," she says. "We should split up and try all the exits. All the windows, doors, everything."

"Are you sure that's safe Natasha?" Carol asks.

"What choice do we have? It's that or wait for the killer to attack."

"She has a good point," you hear Steve say.

"We'll split up. Carol and Sam try the garage. Bucky, Tony, and I will try upstairs, and Natasha and Y/n can try down here," Steve says. Everyone agrees, although some reluctantly, to the plan.

As you and Natasha explore the ground floor, you hear a loud thud come from upstairs.

"What was that?" you ask.

"I'm sure it was nothing baby," Natasha says, trying to soothe you.

"I'm scared Nat. I don't wanna die."

"Hey you're not gonna die baby. Remember what I said? I'll be here to protect you, okay?"

"Okay Nat," you agree.

The two of you continue to hear more thuds coming from upstairs, making you jump more and more.

"I'm going to go see if everything's alright with them," Natasha says.

"But what about me?" you ask.

"Stay in here," Natasha says, leading you to the pantry.

"I'll be right back," she says. She closes the pantry door and leaves you in total silence. You hear someone let out a scream and then you hear someone fall down the stairs, you're praying it's not Natasha.

You can feel your breathing getting shallower as you start to freak out.

"Please let Natasha be alright," you think to yourself.

After what feels like forever Natasha reappears, covered in blood.

"Oh my god what happened?" you ask.

"He killed them all Y/n/n. He's crazy," she says.

"Who?"

"Steve. He killed Bucky and Tony. I don't know how Carol and Sam are." You can hear her breathing harshly.

"We need to get out of here now," you say. You walk up to the nearest window, praying it will open. You have no such luck.

"Damn it," you let out.

"Come on baby. We need to keep moving," your girlfriend says. "Let's go find the others," she says. The two of you cautiously move through the house, careful of every step you take.

The two of you eventually reach the garage door that leads from the house into the garage. Natasha puts herself in front of you as she opens the door. She lets out a gasp at the sight. Carol and Sam are laying there dead.

"Oh my god. This can't be happening," you cry out.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate. You run over to the garage door and pull at it, begging it to open. Natasha runs over and does the same, but nothing works.

"Come on baby we need to try something else," she says. The two of you leave the garage and you walk past the staircase. At the top of the staircase stands Steve, covered in blood with tears streaming down his face. The two of you make eye contact and you bolt off towards the living room.

"We need to find some weapons or something," Natasha says as she joins you. The two of you start to search as you hear Steve's thunderous steps make their way down.

"I've got one," you say, pulling a gun out of a couch cushion. You knew that Tony kept weapons hidden throughout the house in case of intruders because of how rich he is. You have no idea how to handle the gun, but right now you can't be more grateful to have found it.

You aim the gun at the doorway just as Steve walks through it.

"What are you doing Y/n?" Steve asks.

"Stopping you, you monster!"

"I'm not the monster here Y/n, she is," Steve says, gesturing at Natasha. You don't know what to do, so you back away from both of them.

"Baby, you can't believe I'm the killer. He's the killer," she says, pointing at Steve. He has blood smeared down the front of his shirt and pants. He's holding a knife that drips blood onto the once clean hardwood floors. The evidence is stacked against him.

"I'm sorry," you say as you point the gun. It goes off with a loud bang and Steve is thrown across the room. His white shirt is quickly painted crimson as he bleeds out. Now it's only you and Natasha left to find a way out of this building.

You collapse on the ground. You can feel tears falling down your face. Natasha walks behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. You think the gesture is loving, but you're so wrong.

"Guess what baby? You chose wrong," Natasha says. That's when you feel the knife against your throat.

"I was going to cut this pretty little neck open, but I just can't do that to my pretty little baby," Nat whispers in your ear. You can feel yourself shaking and trembling.

"Now I just want to see you crying and screaming as I fuck you," she says. She lifts you up and takes you to a bedroom with you fighting the whole way there. She quickly ties you to the bed with your legs and arms spread.

"You look so beautiful like this baby. All spread out and vulnerable for me." You feel her gaze sweep across your body, and it makes you want to cringe.

"Now we need to get these clothes out of the way," she says. She drags the knife from the top of your dress to the bottom, quickly removing it from your body.

She stares at you while you're completely naked except for your white cotton underwear. "I bet you'd look so pretty covered in blood baby." You had just stopped crying, but this thought made you want to cry all over again.

"I think you'd like that though. You want me to hurt you, don't you princess?" You shake your head no begging her to just let you go, bot to hurt you, something Natasha doesn't like.

"That's not the correct answer baby." You feel the coldness of the blade as she drags it down your cheek. A little bubble of blood pools there, but Natasha is quick to lick it up.

"Let's try that again," she says. Natasha asks you the question again and this time you nod your head yes. This time Natasha seems pleased.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. Natasha moves to straddle your left thigh and you can feel the heat coming off of her fully clothed pussy. She starts to grind down on your thigh, letting out a low moan.

"You look so pretty below me baby," Natasha says. "But you'd look so much better with a red face and tears rolling down your cheeks." Before you have time to react Natasha slaps your cheek again and again. You can feel tears cascading down your face.

"That's it baby. Let them fall," Natasha says. She starts to grind against your thigh faster, her words coming out in breathy moans.

"You just look so pretty when you cry," Natasha says. She slaps you again and you start sobbing, unable to control yourself.

"There you go baby. Just like that," she says. She lets out a high-pitched moan as she cums against your leg.

"That's my good girl. Making her mommy so happy," Natasha coos. She gently cups your face and licks your tears away. "Such a good girl for me."

Natasha gets off of your leg and grabs her knife again. You feel yourself tense up at the sight. She walks over to the bed and settles herself so that she's on top of you.

"It's okay baby. You can scream, I don't mind," Natasha says as she drags the knife down your body. You want to scream and moan at the same time. This is so wrong, but god does it feel so good.

"Natasha," you let out.

"Yes princess?"

"Please," you beg. You're not sure if you're begging her to let you go or to fuck you.

"What is it baby? You want me to fuck this sloppy little pussy of yours? You want mommy to fuck you stupid?" She drags the knife further and further towards your core, leaving slight scratches wherever she went.

You feel your anxiety rise as the blade scratches your inner thigh.

"What's wrong baby? You don't like mommy showing you attention?"

"I-I love it mommy," you say, saying whatever you know Natasha would like.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. She cuts away your underwear, completely exposing you to her.

"Look at this wet little pussy," Natasha says. She scoops up your wetness with her fingers and shoves them into your mouth. You suck on them, hating that she had made you so wet.

"You're taking my fingers so good baby. Just like the good little whore you are." She pushes her fingers farther into your mouth and you start to gag. She roughly fucks your mouth until she is satisfied. She removes them from your mouth and wipes the excess spit on your pussy.

"I've got to get you warmed up for my knife baby," she explains. You go rigid, but Natasha pays this no mind. She shoves one of her spit slicked fingers into your core. You let out an involuntary moan at the intrusion.

"Fuck baby you're taking me so well," she says as she adds another finger. You feel a slight burn, but the burn is quickly overtaken by pleasure.

"Fuck mommy," you moan out.

"That's it baby. Take my fingers." She roughly fucks them in and out of your tight hole, paying your comfort no mind. She adds a third finger, and you cry out at the stretch.

"Fuck," you scream.

"That's such a good girl," Natasha says. "Doing so good for me."

You can feel an impending orgasm as she thrusts into you again and again.

"Mommy. I need-," she cuts you off by removing her fingers from you. You whine at the lost. She slaps you across the face.

"Good girls take what they are given," she says. "And you want to be my good girl, don't you?"

"Yes mommy," you let out.

"That's a good girl," Natasha says. She grabs her knife that she had discarded on the nightstand and grabs the blade with her right hand. She moves her hand down towards your core and slowly moves the handle through your slit.

"Please fuck me mommy," you beg. Natasha roughly pushes the whole handle into you in one thrust. You moan out.

"Your little pussy is just eating my fucking knife baby," you hear Natasha moan out. She continues to roughly fuck you as your moans get louder and louder. You can feel yourself clench around the handle as you get close.

"Please can I cum mommy?" you beg.

"Cum for me princess, cum all over my knife," she says. That's all it takes for her to send you over the edge. Your body shudders as a powerful orgasm makes its way through you.

"You look so pretty baby but now you need to clean up your mess." Natasha holds the knife up. You see blood dripping down her hand from where she was gripping the blade too tight.

"Come on baby clean my knife handle. Lick it clean," she says. She holds the knife handle to your mouth and you gingerly lick it up and down.

"That's it, baby. Lick the knife that ended your friend's lives." You can feel bile making its way up your throat. "That's my good girl," she praises. She sets the knife down and goes to untie your shaking legs. Once she unties your legs, she unties your arms but quickly ties your arms and thighs together after she slips a robe that she found over your nude body.

"Now come on baby, we've got to go," she says. She ignores the way you're trembling in fear as holds the knife to your back. She walks, more like drags, you down the steps and to the front door. Your steps are slow from where Natasha had tied your thighs together. Eventually she gives up and just picks you up.

She pulls a key from her pocket and opens the door with it.

The two of you walk outside as Natasha walks you to her car. She tries to push you in, but you don't budge.

"Get in the fucking car, Y/n." Her voice is sharp and leaves no room for disobeying, yet that's what you do.

"No," you let out.

"No?" she screams out. She grabs you by the hair and opens her car's trunk. She roughly shoves you inside and locks it, preventing you from getting out.

Natasha hops into the driver's seat and quickly pulls out of Tony's driveway.

You can tell she's speeding down the road and you soon realize why. You can hear siren's going in the other direction, the direction of Tony's house. She wants to escape and take you with her.

You move around the small trunk, trying to find a way out. Unfortunately there is no way out. You can feel all of your energy leaving you with every move you make. You can feel yourself starting to black out and you give in to the darkness, admitting to yourself that you'll never escape Natasha.

[novaursa]

heyy

Can you make a Jace x twin sister x aemond

She was very close with aemond when she was younger coz she didn’t have any dragon. And she was even engaged to him but after he loses his eyes their engagement went off.

She still had feeling for him and they often exchanged mail but Rhaenyra chooses to married Jace with her.

time pass she is now with Jace, but when her grandfather died she was sent with her brother Luke, aemond see her and want her for himself again.

he chase her in the sky (obsession like not to arm her) and he almost kill her but he rescue her just in time.

Aemond took her to king’s landing to be with him, and when Jace know he become furious

Stormbound

- Summary: You and Aemond were promised to one another since childhood. And when Aemond lost an eye, he also lost you. But the dragon doesn't deal with absolutes.

- Paring: Aemond Targaryen/velaryon!reader/Jacaerys Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. The requests are closed!

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded reader with Grey Ghost, so this plot makes more sense. Also, Lord Borros can read in this one.

The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and wildflowers as you wander through the gardens of Driftmark. Though it was a somber day—a funeral of your aunt Lady Laena Velaryon. You walk beside Aemond, the soft grass beneath your feet muffling your steps. Though just children, you feel the weight of your family's history and the expectations placed upon you. The lush gardens are a refuge, a place where you and Aemond can escape the ever-watchful eyes of your elders.

Aemond’s hand brushes against yours, his fingers briefly lingering before he pulls away, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink. You glance at him, noticing the way his silver hair catches the sunlight, shimmering like the scales of the dragons you both so desperately wish to ride. But neither of you has yet bonded with one. It's a shared pain, a bond that sets you apart from the other Targaryen children.

"I will have a dragon one day," Aemond declares, his voice full of determination. He always speaks with such confidence, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. "And when I do, I will take you flying above the clouds, where no one can reach us."

You smile at the thought, imagining the two of you soaring through the skies together, free from the burdens of your families and the complex web of alliances and rivalries that bind you. "And what if I get my dragon first?" you tease, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

Aemond's expression softens as he meets your gaze. "Then you will take me with you, won't you? We could fly to the ends of the world, just you and me."

The wind rustles the leaves around you, creating a soft, whispering sound, as if the garden itself is urging you closer to each other. You feel a warmth in your chest, a comfort that only Aemond seems to bring you. You've known him all your life, and though the world outside may be full of uncertainty, when you're with him, everything seems to make sense.

You reach a secluded spot, hidden away from the rest of the world, where the flowers bloom in vibrant colors, and the trees form a natural canopy above. Here, in this little haven, you can be just children, free from the expectations of your titles.

Aemond stops suddenly and turns to you, his expression serious. His violet eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. "Do you know why I spend so much time with you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilt your head, curious. "Because we are friends," you reply, though you sense there is something more he wants to say.

"Yes, we are," he agrees, taking a step closer. "But it's more than that. You are... you're my future."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest, one that you haven't felt before. "What do you mean, Aemond?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly.

He takes a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what has been on his mind for a long time. "My father and your grandsire, King Viserys, spoke to me not long ago. He told me that I am to marry you one day. Our families have agreed upon it. He said that when we're older, we will be wed."

The revelation leaves you momentarily speechless. You knew that your future would likely involve a political marriage, but to hear that it had already been decided—and to Aemond, of all people—feels both overwhelming and strangely comforting.

Aemond reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours again, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. "I know we're still young, and maybe you don't think about such things yet," he continues, his voice soft and earnest. "But I want you to know that I look forward to it. Being with you, as your husband. Protecting you. Caring for you. I want to make you happy, as you make me."

You stare at him, trying to process his words. Aemond has always been there for you, a constant presence in your life, and the thought of him as your husband... it doesn’t frighten you as much as you thought it might. In fact, it feels right, as if it were meant to be.

"And you," he adds, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, "you will be my wife."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you duck your head to hide it, but Aemond gently lifts your chin, his touch tender. "You don't have to say anything now," he assures you. "I just wanted you to know. So that you never have to wonder where you stand with me."

You nod, your throat tight with emotions you don't quite understand. "I... I don't know what to say, Aemond. But I do know that you're important to me. You always have been."

Aemond smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his face in a way that you rarely see. "That's all I needed to hear."

For a moment, the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this hidden corner of the garden. As you stand there, hand in hand, you know that your bond will only grow stronger with time.

The sound of distant laughter breaks the moment, and you both turn to see Jacaerys running towards you, his smile wide and carefree. He calls your name, beckoning you to join him, and for now, you allow yourself to be a child once more, running through the gardens with your brother and Aemond.

But in the back of your mind, you carry Aemond’s words with you, feeling a small spark of excitement for the life you will one day share with him.

The journey back to Dragonstone feels longer than usual, the silence within the ship heavy and suffocating. The waves crash against the hull, the only sound breaking the stillness, but even that seems muted, as if the sea itself is mourning the events at Driftmark. You sit in your small cabin, your fingers tracing the edge of a folded letter hidden within the folds of your dress, close to your heart. It’s from Aemond, a hastily written note slipped to you in the chaos after the fight. His words are brief, but they carry the weight of all that was left unsaid between you.

"I did what I had to. I hope you can understand one day. I still care for you."

You read the letter again and again, memorizing the loops and slashes of his handwriting, the way his words seem to tremble with emotion. But each time you read it, the image of Aemond’s face, twisted in pain and anger as he lost his eye, looms larger in your mind. The boy who once held your hand so tenderly now seems like a distant memory, replaced by someone hardened by the cruelty of your shared world.

A knock on the cabin door startles you, and you quickly shove the letter deeper into your dress, your heart racing. When you open the door, you find Jace standing there, his expression a mix of concern and something else you can’t quite place—something heavier, more burdensome.

"Mother wants us," he says simply, his voice strained. There’s no need for more words; you know what this summons means. It’s time to discuss what happened, to face the reality of the fractured alliance between your families.

You follow Jace up to the deck, where your mother, Rhaenyra, and Daemon stand together, their figures silhouetted against the stormy sky. The clouds above Dragonstone are dark, reflecting the mood of the conversation that’s about to unfold. Your brothers are gathered around, their faces drawn and serious.

As you approach, you catch the tail end of a heated exchange between your mother and Daemon.

"Alicent has gone too far this time," Rhaenyra hisses, her voice sharp with anger. "Breaking the engagement without even consulting us—after all the promises made!"

Daemon scoffs, his expression cold and calculating. "She was always going to break it, Rhaenyra. Especially after what happened with Aemond. It’s better this way. That boy is dangerous, and his ambitions will only grow."

Your heart clenches at Daemon’s words. Dangerous? Perhaps, but Aemond is still the boy you grew up with, the one who spoke of your future together with such hope. And yet, as you recall the events at Driftmark, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear. Aemond had changed in that moment, his desperation leading him to claim Vhagar and then fight with your brothers. You know that things can never be the same between your families, but does that mean your bond with Aemond must be severed as well?

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts to you and Jace, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks at the two of you, standing side by side as you have so many times before. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, a weariness that seems to have settled into her bones.

"It should have been different," she murmurs, almost to herself. "But now we must think of what’s best for our family. For the realm."

You and Jace exchange a glance, both of you sensing that something significant is about to be said. Rhaenyra’s grip tightens on the railing of the ship, her knuckles white, as she turns fully to face you.

"The bonds between our families have been strained to the breaking point," she begins, her voice steady but filled with sorrow. "Alicent’s actions have shown that she no longer honors the agreements made your grandsire. The betrothal between you and Aemond is no more. It’s been annulled."

Your breath catches in your throat, though you knew this was coming. Hearing the words aloud feels like a blow to the chest. You instinctively touch the hidden letter in your dress, as if seeking some comfort from Aemond’s words. But your mother’s next words leave you reeling.

"To strengthen our house, and to protect our claim, I have decided that you and Jace will marry. It is what should have been from the start. It’s what’s best for all of us."

Jace stiffens beside you, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel the world tilt beneath your feet as you try to process what your mother has just said. Marry Jace? Your twin, your closest confidant? The idea feels foreign and unnatural, even though you’ve always known that your future would be tied to political alliances.

Daemon steps forward, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder in a rare gesture of solidarity. "It’s the right move, Rhaenyra. The Hightowers have shown their hand, and we must be ready to counter them. A marriage between the two of them will solidify our position and keep our enemies at bay."

"But—" you begin, your voice trembling. "Jace is my brother. We’ve never... I never thought..."

Rhaenyra’s expression softens as she takes a step closer to you. "I know, my dear. I know this is difficult. But we must think of the greater good. The two of you are the future of our house, and together, you will be stronger. We cannot afford any more divisions, not now."

Jace finally finds his voice, though it’s thick with emotion. "Mother, is this truly necessary? I would do anything for our family, but to marry my sister... it feels... wrong."

Rhaenyra’s eyes flash with determination. "You are not just brother and sister, Jace. You are heirs to the Iron Throne. And in our family, such unions have always been a way to keep the bloodline pure and our claim uncontested. You must trust me in this."

You look at Jace, seeing your own turmoil reflected in his eyes. You have always been close, sharing everything, but marriage? It feels like a betrayal of the bond you shared, something that could change the dynamic between you forever.

Daemon’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone commanding. "This is not just about love or comfort. This is about power, about survival. The Hightowers will stop at nothing to see their line on the throne. We must be prepared to meet them with equal strength."

Rhaenyra nods, her resolve hardening. "Jace, Y/N, you must do this. For the sake of our house, for the legacy of our ancestors. You are the future, and together, you can secure it."

There’s a long silence as the weight of her words settles over you both. You can feel the eyes of your younger brothers on you, their innocent faces not yet fully understanding the gravity of what’s being decided. You feel torn between duty and the remnants of your childhood dreams—the promise of a future with Aemond, now shattered, and the new path being forced upon you.

Finally, Jace speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "If it is what must be done, then I will do it."

His words hang in the air, final and resolute, and you know that there’s no turning back now. Your mother’s expression softens, and she reaches out to touch your cheek gently.

"You are stronger than you know," she says, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "And together, you and Jace will be unstoppable."

You nod, though your heart is heavy, and as the ship finally docks at Dragonstone, you feel the weight of the future pressing down on you. The letter from Aemond still burns against your skin, a reminder of what might have been, but as you step onto the rocky shores of your ancestral home, you know that you must let go of that dream.

The path before you is set, and though it’s not the one you envisioned, you will walk it with your head held high, just as your mother taught you.

The air over Dragonstone is foreboding, filled with the weight of a war that has not yet begun but feels inevitable. The sky is a dull gray, heavy with the promise of rain. You stand on the edge of the cliff, the sea crashing against the rocks far below, the salty spray mingling with the mist. Beside you, Grey Ghost shifts restlessly, the massive dragon sensing your unease. His pale scales shimmer like ghostly silver in the dim light, his deep rumbling breaths a comfort in the otherwise oppressive atmosphere.

Your mother’s words still echo in your mind: "You must go to Storm’s End with your brother. Deliver our message to Lord Borros Baratheon and secure his allegiance. We cannot afford to lose the Stormlands."

You turn to your brother, Luke, who stands a few paces away, his face a mask of determination. He is trying to be brave, trying to embody the strength that your mother has instilled in all of you, but you can see the fear in his eyes. He is still so young, and the thought of him facing whatever awaits at Storm’s End fills you with a dread you cannot shake.

Before you can speak to him, you feel a presence at your side. Jacaerys, your twin, your closest companion in all things, steps close to you. His dragon, Vermax, waits nearby, his golden eyes watching you both with an intelligence that never fails to unsettle you.

"Are you ready?" Jace asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of emotions—concern, affection, and something deeper that has grown between you in these past months.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love and fear all at once. "As ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Jace reaches out, taking your hand in his. The touch is warm, grounding you in the moment. "I don’t want you to go," he admits softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Not to Storm’s End, not anywhere dangerous. But I know you must."

You squeeze his hand, drawing comfort from his presence. "And I don’t want you flying to the Vale or the North, but you must as well. We both have our duties, Jace. We have to do this for our mother, for our family."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and in that moment, it feels as though the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, standing together on the precipice of something far greater than yourselves. "When this is over, when we’ve secured our mother’s throne," Jace begins, his voice full of conviction, "we will be together, as we’re meant to be. We’ll marry, and nothing will ever separate us again."

You smile at him, though tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I look forward to that day more than anything," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Jace steps closer, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His touch is tender, and when he leans in to press his lips to yours, the kiss is gentle, filled with all the unspoken words and promises that have passed between you. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing, of a future that both of you desperately want but cannot fully grasp yet.

The wind picks up around you, tugging at your hair, but you don’t move away from him. His lips linger on yours, and for a moment, all the fear and uncertainty fades away, leaving only the warmth of his love.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you close your eyes, savoring the closeness. "Come back to me," he whispers, his voice a plea that echoes in your heart.

"I will," you promise, your voice barely more than a breath. "And you come back to me."

He nods, and with one last kiss, he steps away, his hand slipping from yours reluctantly. The loss of his touch feels like a cold void, but you force yourself to remain strong. You have to be, for your family, for your future.

Jace turns to Luke, his expression becoming serious once more. "Take care of her," he says, his tone protective.

Luke nods, his face pale but resolute. "I will, Jace. I promise."

With that, Jace mounts Vermax, the dragon’s scales gleaming like emeralds in the gray light. You watch as they take flight, the powerful wings beating against the wind, carrying them up into the sky. For a moment, your heart feels like it’s being torn in two, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the task ahead.

You turn to Luke, offering him a reassuring smile. "We’ll do this, brother. We’ll make sure our mother’s claim is secure."

He nods, and together, you mount your dragons, the beasts shifting eagerly beneath you. You can feel Grey Ghost’s excitement, his connection with you strong and unwavering. With a final glance at Dragonstone, the place that has been your home and your sanctuary, you urge Grey Ghost into the air.

The wind rushes past you, the world falling away as you soar higher and higher. Below, the sea stretches out endlessly, the waves rolling in constant motion. You and Luke fly side by side, your dragons’ wings cutting through the sky with a powerful grace that fills you with a sense of invincibility.

But as you draw closer to Storm’s End, the storm clouds grow darker, swirling ominously. You can feel the tension in the air, a warning of what’s to come. You steal a glance at Luke, who meets your gaze with a determined nod. Together, you dive towards the fortress, your hearts heavy with the knowledge that this is just the beginning.

But through it all, you hold onto the promise of Jace’s words, of the life you will build together when the war is won. For now, that hope is enough to carry you through the storm.

The storm rages as you and Luke descend from the skies, the wind howling around you, and the rain pelting your faces like cold needles. The once distant silhouette of Storm’s End grows larger and more imposing with each passing second, its dark towers outlined by the flashes of lightning that split the sky. Grey Ghost’s massive wings beat powerfully beneath you, his body shifting with the wind as he angles towards the courtyard. Beside you, Luke struggles to keep Arrax steady, the young dragon’s movements more erratic in the harsh winds.

As you approach the ground, your eyes catch something that sends a jolt of dread through your heart—a massive shape looming in the distance, just beyond the castle walls. Vhagar. The ancient dragon sits like a shadow in the storm, her vast form barely visible in the driving rain. A surge of fear and unease washes over you, your mind flashing back to that terrible night at Driftmark, to the boy you once knew and cared for so deeply, who now rides the beast that haunts your nightmares.

You turn to Luke, his face pale but resolute as he prepares to land. You force yourself to push down the rising panic, knowing you must be strong for him. "Be brave, Luke," you call out over the storm, your voice barely audible above the wind. "We’re here to do our duty. Mother is counting on us."

He nods, his jaw set with determination as he brings Arrax down beside Grey Ghost. The courtyard is a whirl of activity despite the storm—guards and stablehands rushing to secure the dragons, their movements quick and practiced. You dismount swiftly, your boots splashing into the puddles that have formed on the stone ground, the rain soaking through your cloak almost immediately. The cold, damp air clings to your skin, making you shiver as you look around, your heart pounding in your chest.

The guards approach, their expressions stern as they motion for you and Luke to follow them. You fall into step beside your brother, your heart tightening with every step that brings you closer to the castle’s great hall, closer to the man you know is waiting inside. The memory of your last encounter with Aemond, the tension and hostility that had hung in the air during that fateful dinner after your grandsire proclaimed Luke the heir to Driftmark, is fresh in your mind. And the memory of Daemon’s blade severing Vaemond Velaryon’s head—another reminder of how fragile and dangerous your world has become.

Your mind races with the possibilities of what awaits you in the hall. Aemond’s presence here is both expected and dreaded. How will he react to seeing you again? And how will you maintain your composure in front of him, knowing all that has transpired?

The guards lead you through the corridors of Storm’s End, the stone walls echoing with the roar of the storm outside. Every step feels heavier than the last, your heart thudding in your chest as you approach the doors of the great hall. Luke glances at you, his eyes wide with anxiety, and you give him a reassuring nod, though your own nerves are frayed.

The heavy doors swing open with a groan, revealing the low lit interior of the hall. At the far end of the room, Lord Borros Baratheon sits upon his seat, a large and imposing figure, his expression unreadable as he watches your approach. And standing off to the side, his figure partially hidden in shadow, is Aemond.

Your breath catches as your eyes meet his. He is as you remember him, yet there is something colder, more dangerous in his demeanor now. The eyepatch he wears does little to soften the sharpness of his gaze, which is fixed entirely on you. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if the storm outside has found its way into the room.

Luke clears his throat and steps forward, his voice steady as he addresses Lord Borros. "Lord Borros, we come bearing a message from our mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

He extends the scroll, and one of Borros’s attendants takes it, bringing it to the lord. Borros unrolls the parchment, his eyes scanning the contents, but you can feel Aemond’s gaze never leaving you, the intensity of it almost unbearable. You force yourself to stand tall, meeting his stare with all the courage you can muster.

Borros reads the letter in silence, his expression darkening as he takes in the words. When he finally looks up, his eyes shift between you and Luke before settling on Aemond. "So, the whore’s son comes to Storm’s End to call upon the loyalty of House Baratheon," Borros says, his voice a deep rumble. "And what does your mother offer me in return for this allegiance?"

Luke stiffens at the insult, but before he can respond, Aemond steps forward, his focus solely on you. "She offers nothing that we cannot take by force," Aemond says smoothly, his voice low and dangerous. He moves closer, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You should be on your knees, begging for mercy. And you"—he nods to Luke—"owe me an eye."

Luke flinches, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, but you step forward, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. "Aemond," you say, your voice trembling slightly, though you try to keep it steady. "We are here as envoys, not as enemies."

Aemond’s lips curl into a cold smile. "Are you?" His gaze flickers over you, lingering on the pendant around your neck—the one you’ve worn since childhood, a gift from him when you were both younger and the world was simpler. "You should be by my side, as was always intended. Come with me to King’s Landing. Leave this farce behind. It’s where you belong."

His words cut through you like a blade, stirring up a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep, unspoken longing that you’ve tried so hard to bury. You stare at him, struggling to find the right words. "I am where I am meant to be," you reply, your voice firmer now. "My place is with my family."

Aemond’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. "Your place is by my side. It was decided long ago. If not for your mother’s ambitions and your brother’s blade, you would already be my wife."

The tension in the room is shimmering, the storm outside seeming to echo the storm within the hall. Luke looks to you, uncertainty written on his face, but before either of you can respond, Lord Borros rises from his seat, his patience clearly waning.

"Enough of this," Borros barks, his voice commanding attention. "I will not have my hall turned into a battleground for your family’s squabbles." He turns his gaze to you and Luke, his eyes narrowing. "You come here, expecting my loyalty, offering nothing in return but the word of your mother. I am no dog to be called when she whistles."

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as Borros continues. "Tell your mother that House Baratheon will not be swayed so easily. My daughters are of age, and I will choose the best match for them—one that will bring strength to my house."

Your heart sinks further, knowing that this means Borros will likely side with Aegon, who can offer a marriage alliance. Luke’s face falls, his youthful optimism crushed by the reality of politics and power.

Borros waves a hand dismissively. "You may take your leave. But know this—if you try to force my hand, you will find yourself on the wrong side of Storm’s End’s walls."

You feel a chill run down your spine as you turn to leave, but Aemond’s voice stops you in your tracks. "You’re making a mistake," he says, his voice low and menacing, though it is directed at you rather than Lord Borros. "You cannot escape your destiny."

You meet his gaze one last time, a thousand words left unspoken between you. But you can’t afford to falter now. With a final nod to Luke, you lead him out of the hall, your heart heavy with the weight of what has transpired.

As you step back into the storm, the wind and rain battering against you, you feel Aemond’s gaze still on you, burning into your back. You don’t look back, even as your heart tightens painfully in your chest. You force yourself to focus on Luke, on getting him back to Arrax and out of this place safely.

You reach the courtyard, the storm raging even fiercer than before. Grey Ghost and Arrax wait anxiously, their eyes glowing in the darkness. You help Luke onto Arrax’s back, your hands shaking with the cold and the tension that still thrums through your veins.

As you mount Grey Ghost, you cast one last glance at Storm’s End, feeling Aemond’s presence like a shadow over your heart. Then, with a firm command, you urge Grey Ghost into the sky, Luke following close behind. The wind howls around you as you soar into the storm, the castle disappearing into the mist below.

The storm has swallowed the world in darkness, the sky an unrelenting swirl of black clouds and driving rain. You push Grey Ghost harder, his wings beating against the gale-force winds as you and Luke streak through the stormy sky. Lightning flashes, illuminating the rolling sea far below, the waves crashing violently against one another, echoing the tumult in your heart.

But then, through the roar of the storm, you hear it—a deep, guttural sound that sends a jolt of terror through you. You glance back, your heart leaping into your throat as you see the enormous shadow emerging from the clouds. Vhagar. The ancient dragon cuts through the sky like a nightmare come to life, her massive wings nearly blotting out the sky. And on her back, you can just make out the figure of Aemond, his silver hair whipping in the wind, his single eye locked on you with a frightening intensity.

“Luke!” you cry, urging Grey Ghost to fly faster, but the storm seems to conspire against you, the winds shifting, making it impossible to gain speed. You can see the panic in Luke’s eyes as he glances back, his young face pale against the dark sky. “We have to split up!” you shout, your voice barely carrying over the storm.

He nods reluctantly, his face set with determination. "Be careful," he yells back, veering Arrax to the left, disappearing into the churning clouds.

But Vhagar does not follow him. Instead, the enormous dragon continues to barrel toward you, her focus entirely on Grey Ghost. Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the gap between you and Aemond closing with terrifying speed. You glance back again, and in that moment, you catch Aemond’s gaze, his face contorted into a fierce determination. His eye is no longer on the hunt; it’s on you.

"Fly, Grey Ghost!" you urge, leaning low over your dragon’s neck, your voice tinged with desperation. But you know it’s futile. Vhagar is too large, too powerful, and even Grey Ghost, swift as he is, cannot outrun the monster that bears down on you.

In a flash of lightning, you see Vhagar’s enormous maw open, and Grey Ghost lets out a furious roar as he attempts to dodge the attack. But it’s too late. Vhagar’s jaws snap shut just behind your dragon, her talons lashing out to catch him. There’s a sudden jolt as Grey Ghost is wrenched out of the sky, and you’re thrown against the saddle, your grip slipping as you fight to hold on.

Vhagar’s claws dig into Grey Ghost’s side, pinning him against the rocky cliffs below. The impact is violent, the ground shuddering beneath you as Vhagar slams Grey Ghost down. You feel the air rush out of your lungs as Grey Ghost lets out a pained roar, his body pinned under Vhagar’s immense weight. The world tilts dangerously as you realize you’re about to be crushed beneath the two dragons.

With a surge of adrenaline, you unbuckle yourself from the saddle and leap off Grey Ghost’s back, hitting the ground hard. You roll to avoid being caught under Vhagar’s claws, the rough stones scraping against your hands and knees. Pain shoots through your limbs, but you force yourself to stand, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look up at the towering form of Vhagar.

Aemond is already descending from the saddle, his boots hitting the ground with a splash of rain-soaked earth. His face is shadowed by the storm, but the determination in his single eye is unmistakable. His presence feels like a force of nature, as unstoppable as the storm itself.

Before you can even think to run, Aemond is upon you. His hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a grip that is firm yet surprisingly gentle. His touch sends a jolt through you, a confusing mix of fear and something else—something deeper, something you’ve tried to bury.

"You’re coming with me," Aemond declares, his voice low and unyielding. The rain cascades down his face, mingling with the strands of his silver hair, but his eye never wavers from yours. "This is where you belong, with me, in King’s Landing."

You try to wrench your hand free, but his grip tightens. "Let me go, Aemond!" you shout, your voice raw with anger and fear. "You can’t just take me like this!"

He steps closer, his body towering over yours, the heat of his presence cutting through the cold rain. "You were promised to me," he says, his voice a growl, filled with a barely controlled fury. "Before your mother, before my mother, you were promised to me. That was the true path, the one that should have been followed. I’m taking back what was stolen from me."

Your heart races as his words sink in, the sheer intensity of his resolve leaving you breathless. You can see it in his eye—the same desperation you felt that night in Driftmark, the desperation that drove him to claim Vhagar. But this is different; this is personal.

"I am not yours to take!" you shout, your voice cracking under the weight of the emotions roiling inside you. "I’m not some prize to be won!"

Aemond’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that is somehow more terrifying than his earlier anger. "You’re wrong," he says, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold. "You’ve always been mine. From the moment we were children, we belonged to each other. I knew it then, and I know it now."

You shake your head, tears mingling with the rain on your cheeks. "No, Aemond. We were children then. Things are different now."

His expression softens just slightly, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew, the boy who held your hand in the gardens of Driftmark and promised to protect you. "Things don’t have to be different," he says quietly. "We can still be what we were meant to be. I will make you my wife, back at the capital. No matter what Rhaenyra or Alicent say."

Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity of his words. You feel the world closing in around you, the storm raging, the dragons snarling in the background, but all you can focus on is the man before you, the man who is both your past and the future he so desperately wants.

But you know you cannot let him take you, not like this. Not as a pawn in the game your families are playing. "Aemond, please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. "This isn’t the way."

He looks at you, his eye searching yours, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of doubt, a hesitation. But then it’s gone, replaced by the fierce resolve that has always defined him. "It’s the only way," he says, his voice final. "You’re coming with me, and together we’ll make our own destiny."

Before you can respond, he pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist with a possessive strength. The proximity sends your heart into a wild rhythm, confusion and fear tangling with the old, familiar feelings you’ve tried to deny for so long.

"Aemond—" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"We’ll be together," he says, his voice a vow. "I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. You’ll see, this is the only way."

The crackling fire in the hearth does little to warm the cold stone walls of Winterfell's great hall. The North is a place of enduring chill, where the warmth of the flames fights a losing battle against the ever-present cold. But for Jacaerys Velaryon, standing before the fire, the cold within him is not merely from the Northern air. It’s a cold that has settled deep in his bones, born from a letter that trembles in his hand.

Cregan Stark watches him, his gray eyes sharp and perceptive, though he says nothing. The Lord of Winterfell has seen many men face terrible news, and he knows better than to push too quickly. But even he cannot help but feel a flicker of concern at the way Jacaerys clenches his jaw, the muscles ticking with restrained fury.

Jacaerys reads the letter again, as if hoping the words will change, but they do not. They remain as damning and horrifying as the first time.

"My son, upon your return from the North, you will not find your sister here at Dragonstone. She has been taken, stolen from us by Aemond Targaryen. He has brought her to King’s Landing, and there are whispers that he intends to wed her against her will. I fear for her safety and what this means for our cause. You must return to me as swiftly as you can, for the time to act is upon us."

The parchment crumples slightly under his grip, the tension in his body vibrating with barely controlled rage. He can hardly breathe, the thought of his sister—your sister—in Aemond’s hands making his blood boil. The fire within him threatens to consume him, but Jacaerys knows he must keep his head. He must think, must plan.

But all he can feel is the roaring in his ears, the overwhelming need to fly south and tear Aemond apart with his bare hands.

Cregan steps closer, his boots barely making a sound on the flagstone floor. "Jacaerys," he says, his voice a deep rumble that commands attention but carries no judgment. "What has happened?"

Jacaerys clenches his fists, trying to force the words out without letting the fury consume him. "Aemond," he grits out, his voice low and dangerous. "He took her. He took my sister."

Cregan’s eyes narrow, understanding dawning in their gray depths. "Took her?" he echoes, his voice calm but laced with a growing concern. "Where? When?"

Jacaerys swallows hard, the words sticking in his throat like shards of glass. "After Storm’s End. I knew she was heading there with Luke, but I thought they’d return. I thought—" He stops, his breath hitching as the weight of his failure presses down on him. "I should have been there."

Cregan places a hand on his shoulder, a firm yet comforting gesture. "You couldn’t have known," he says quietly. "None of us could have. But tell me what you know, Jacaerys. We can’t act without understanding the full extent of the situation."

Jacaerys forces himself to breathe, to push through the fog of anger clouding his thoughts. He straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "My mother’s letter," he begins, his voice still rough with emotion, "says that after they left Storm’s End, Aemond pursued them. He chased them on Vhagar and... somehow, he managed to catch up with them. He—" Jacaerys’ voice breaks for a moment, but he grits his teeth and continues. "He took her. He took her to King’s Landing."

Cregan’s expression hardens, his hand tightening slightly on Jacaerys’ shoulder. "And what does he intend to do with her?"

The question is a knife to Jacaerys’ gut, the unspoken implications clear between them. He can hardly bring himself to say it, but he knows he must. "There are whispers," he says slowly, the words heavy with dread, "that he plans to marry her. That he’ll force her to be his wife."

Cregan’s jaw clenches, and he nods, his mind already turning to the potential consequences. "If that is true, it would be a bold move by Aemond," he says, his voice measured. "He must know it would enrage your mother, perhaps even push her to act more recklessly than she might otherwise. But if he succeeds... it could strengthen his claim, and by extension, Aegon’s."

Jacaerys’ heart pounds painfully in his chest, his mind racing with the possibilities. "I have to go after her," he says suddenly, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. "I can’t just sit here while Aemond—while he—" He can’t finish the sentence, the thought too horrifying to voice.

Cregan’s grip on his shoulder tightens, grounding him in the present moment. "And you will," he assures Jacaerys, his voice steady and firm. "But you must not act out of rage alone. We need to think this through. If you fly south now, without a plan, you could be walking into a trap."

Jacaerys shakes his head, his frustration and anger boiling over. "I can’t just sit here!" he snaps, pulling away from Cregan’s grasp. "I won’t let him do this to her! She’s my sister—she’s everything to me! And Aemond—he can’t—he won’t get away with this!"

Cregan watches him with a calm, steady gaze, letting Jacaerys vent his anger. When the younger man finally stops, breathing heavily, Cregan speaks again, his tone measured. "I understand your fury, Jacaerys. I would feel the same if it were my kin. But I also know that anger alone will not save her. We must be smart about this."

Jacaerys turns back to Cregan, the fire in his eyes now mixed with desperation. "Then tell me what to do," he demands, his voice shaking. "Tell me how to save her."

Cregan’s face is grave, his mind clearly weighing the options. "First, we must send word to your mother," he says. "She needs to know that you’ve received her message and that we’re preparing to act. Second, we must consider how to approach King’s Landing. Charging in with dragons might provoke a response that puts your sister in greater danger."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to argue, but Cregan holds up a hand, silencing him. "But we cannot wait too long," Cregan continues. "Aemond’s intentions might not be clear yet, but the longer she remains in King’s Landing, the harder it will be to bring her back safely."

Jacaerys feels the weight of those words, the cold reality of the situation settling over him like a shroud. Every moment that passes could bring more harm to you, the sister he loves more than anything in the world. He looks down at the letter in his hand, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

"I can’t lose her, Cregan," he whispers, his voice cracking. "She’s... she’s everything to me."

Cregan’s expression softens, and he places a hand on Jacaerys’ arm. "You won’t lose her," he says with quiet conviction. "We’ll get her back. But you need to keep your wits about you, Jacaerys. For her sake."

Jacaerys nods slowly, trying to push down the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume him. He has to be strong, has to think clearly if he’s going to save you. But it’s hard, so hard, when all he wants to do is fly south and tear Aemond apart for daring to take you.

Cregan steps back, his expression becoming more focused, more tactical. "We’ll start by preparing our forces," he says, already moving towards the door. "And we’ll send ravens to your mother, letting her know what we plan to do. We’ll need to coordinate our efforts if we’re going to succeed."

Jacaerys follows him, the anger still simmering in his chest, but now tempered by the need for action. "And then?" he asks, his voice rough.

Cregan pauses at the doorway, turning back to Jacaerys with a look of steely determination. "And then we’ll go to King’s Landing," he says. "And we’ll bring her home."

The words are a promise, one that Jacaerys clings to as he prepares to face the storm that lies ahead. No matter what it takes, no matter the cost, he will save you. And Aemond will pay for what he’s done.

But even as he steels himself for the battle to come, the fear lingers in his heart—the fear that he might be too late, that Aemond might already have taken something from you that can never be returned. It’s a thought that fuels the fire within him, the need to protect you from the man who has already taken so much.

As he follows Cregan out into the cold, Jacaerys vows that he will not rest until you are safe again, until you are back where you belong—with him, by his side, where no one can ever take you away again.

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Hihi Pooks, I love your writing and was wondering if you would write for a Mitsuri!reader, like a reader who looks quite weak (IS FEMALE as mitsuri is a female) but is INSANELY strong and quite flexible (which breaks the stereotype of ‘women aren’t strong’). (Helluva boss x Mitsuri!reader) reader who can eat LOADS while staying fit bc yk she’s strong and exercises regularly but could definitely rival a sin with her strength and probably could do some magic with the ‘power of love’ typa shit

yes I mean Mitsuri from demon slayer.

Sorry it took me so long to do this! I had to move, then completely forgot I had a tumblr blog. And now after somewhat of a midlife crisis I have just realized that I infact DO have a tumblr blog. So ye, I apologise for keeping you waiting for so long

I.M.P & Stolas x Mitsuri!reader

Blitzo

First of all, this dude thinks your strength is HOT (take that however you want).

He thinks you're kind, yet knows that if you really wanted to, you could probably beat Lucifer himself in a fight.

Blitzo definetly can, will and has fucked around with your whip-like nichirin sword, but will stop the second you tell him to, well if its serious, if not then he'll keep goofing around untill he manages to destroy something.

He once walked in on you eating what can only be described as a 3 course meal that would be served at a thanksgiving dinner. He is both surprised, and horrified once he finds out that it is the normal amount of food for you because of your extremem muscle density.

Once tried to challenge you to an arm wrestle match just to see how he could compare, and that day he found out that you had an absolutely insane physical strength after winning with just your pinky finger. He will do everything to hide that fact

He has definetly said some stupid threat like ''My grilfriend will beat *hiccup* your ass if I *hiccup* don't'' to someone in a bar while drunk

Moxxie

Being the most realistic out of all of the employees at I.M.P, Moxxie is outright terrified of your strength.

He can and will try to keep you happy, already wanting to hide in fear at just the thought of you having a bad day.

No matter how much you re-assure him, its gonna take a while before he actually begins to think you wont kill someone whenever you feel angry.

He thinks its both impressive and weird how that you can eat so much food without even gaining as much as a miligram. He won't comment on that tho.

He is very curious as to how your weapon works. Y'know since its metal, yet can be used as a whip.

Millie

She thinks your weapon is incredibly cool, and encourages you to use it more often.

She's asked you about how well you think you'd do with other weapons as well.

Either way will still love you, regardless of your choice of weapon <3

You two are a power couple and you can't convince me otherwise (two strong women who can and will kick the ass of anyone who disrespects them in any way, shape or form).

She loves your power of love magic, especially because part of her thinks it becomes stronger with the love you two have for eachother

Loona

This legit feels like the fandom classic of shipping the two characters who are the exact opposite.

She secretly really loves your whole power of love thing, even if she says otherwise.

Has probably jokingly asked you to punch Blitzo one time because he really annoyed her.

She will blush MADLY if you decide to pick her up and just carry her around, but if its in private, she won't complain.

She loves seeing you use your strength in combat.

Stolas

Like Moxxie, Stolas is scared as fuck.

He can and will do EVERYTHING to avoid you when you're angry.

You can convince him, that you're not going to hurt him. But the last thing Stolas is trying to do is becoming bbq chicken because he decided to approach you while you were angry, so no risks

He likes how strong you are, makes him feel safe. Mostly because you'll kick the ass of anyone who dares try to hurt him.

He was surprised when your power of love wasn't some sort of magic to make others fall in love, but is quite literally love turned into raw power.

This 100% isn't worth the wait, sorry it took me so long. But hope it was, somewhat decent, am willing to do a part 2 tho

[24hlevi]

I know we've got Lottie x innocent reader.. But what about th othe yjs 🤔🤔🤔

ooooh 🤭 imma give a few thoughts for each of them cause i love this but can't come up with full hcs sorry. thank you for continuing the innocent reader vision anon 🫶 also this is more with their adult versions in mind!

shauna -

- shauna adores your innocence, she literally thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you two first get together, how you haven't done anything like smoking or drinking, how you wear whatever clothes you want without realizing the way people look at you in said outfits

- she will subconsciously baby you tho, she will of course stop if you say for her to but she loves babying you :( not in like a weird way but just in a nurturing way that shows she loves you dearly

- she has such a thing for marking you up for everyone else to see how your hers and hers only, a smile always forming on her face whenever you don't try to cover it up and you two go out being given weird looks by the amount of hickeys on your neck

- she tries to start out slow with you during your first time with her but she can't help but get rough at the sounds of you whining and moaning just for her :(

nat -

- she's the one who enjoys your innocence the most, the fact that you have barely done anything rebellious in your life leads nat to being the gf who will make you do reckless things and live life to the fullest, maybe getting arrested in the process (oops)

- nat also thinks it's kinda cool that you two are polar opposites when in public and you're wearing the cutest thing possible and she's just in her leather jacket and jeans, she'd rather die than use the word aesthetic for how pleasing it is, but that's what it is lol

- nat is also the biggest on the corruption side of things, to just break down those innocent walls that stop you from whimpering her name underneath her is like winning a prize to her and when you finally let go of feeling shy and innocent, she is going to make sure you know you're hers

- thinking of her teaching you how to ride her strap for the first time and she slowly coaxes you into moving your hips faster and make more pretty noises for her, smiling at your whines before flipping you over and just pounding into you

misty -

- misty definitely takes advantage of your innocence, most of the time without you even realizing it, which makes it better for her in the end when she makes you do things that you wouldn't do otherwise without her there, it gives her a sense of pride and that she's needed

- she also just thinks it's cute when you have little to no idea what's going on or when people try to flirt with you and you just think they're being nice, misty is one to get jealous, but just so she can take you back home and make sure you remember who you belong to

- misty is the second biggest on corruption imo, she loves how innocent you are, buying you pretty revealing clothing to wear around the house so she can have you whenever she wants and seeing your eyes widen when she grabs you by your hips pulling you towards her gets her going so bad she will take you right then and there

- roleplay is huge for misty, especially medical themes, and she loves opening your mind to those things and show you how to have fun and have a good time as well even when she's three gloved fingers inside of you and is degrading you beyond belief mixed with praises

tai -

- the only normal one (jk), tai is one that thinks it's cute and enjoys the way that your innocence is genuine and how it's just how you are, not like you're doing it on purpose or something

- tbh tai doesn't seem like she would get jealous because of it, will she glare daggers at whoever is attempting to flirt with you to the point they back off? yes. but she won't be verbal about it 😭 you go over to her wondering why the overly kind person just left and she's like "ah idk babe" acting like she wasn't killing them with her mind

- tai will make you be verbal with what you want, she won't do anything until you tell her what it exactly is that you want, loving to see the way you break down crumbling and soon start begging for her to do something, anything

- you cannot tell me this woman doesn't have a thing for being called ma'am, like you'd say it as a joke and she would immediately change up and tell you to say it again which leads to a newly found word to use when having sex

van -

- van thinks your innocence is a little silly at first (affectionately), how you don't realize the certain things you do would be seen as flirting or not noticing when others are flirting with you, they think its silly

- they definitely show you all kinds of movies you haven't seen before to expand your horizons of cinema and entertainment, especially the more spicy ones to open your mind to some things 🤭

- van grins so hard when you tell them you wanna try something that you saw in a movie or something else and immediately drops everything to do it, they'll take their time with you to make sure you actually want to do it before going down on you like never before

- van is into experimenting with anything, whatever you wanna do they will gladly do for you, you basically become their pillow princess/prince and they will make sure the neighbors can hear cause they just love the sounds you make when they're pounding into you with their strap

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, hope you'er having a good time. Whatever time it is right now. I wondered if I can request 141 team x male reader who is a mercenary like in the game hitman for example. So they meet up or there are searching for him. Maybe just escapes everytime or outsmarts them. Working together with reader and they are scared of him. Because he can throw Ghost around and is very stealthy. Has perfected his craft and kill them with anything he can get his hands on. I hope good and have a nice day.

Okay, so never played hitman, but I have seen it so I know what you are talking about. I think I might have to play it. Who knows.

Summary: (Y/N) is the nightmare of 141 task force

Warning: author didn't play hitman but watched it, guns, violence, everything that goes with Modern Warfare, (C/N) = code name

Price sighed as he walked towards the meeting room. Laswell had some information on their enemy. He was a mercenary, one of the best in the world.

" Hello everyone. Lets get started. " Laswell said as Price sat down. She pulled up (Y/N)'s photo.

" We might have known whereabouts about (C/D). I have to warn you, the chances of finding him are slim. Somehow he always gets out. I don't think I need to tell you to watch out. " Laswell said, taking a cigarette out.

" Just how much we know about him? " Ghost asked, looking at the only confirmed photo of (C/D) on the screen. Those eyes seem empty and calculating.

Ghost had no doubts that (C/D) wouldn't hesitate to kill them all.

" We don't know anything about him, but one thing is certain. " Price said, looking at his team. " He won't hesitate to kill us. He has perfected his craft. " Price said, a solemn silence falling around the room.

" Where do we think he is? " Soap asked, tapping his fingers against the table. The energy has fallen very low, almost to gloomy levels.

" Mexico. Nowhere near Las Almas, thankfully. Alejandro and Rudy are busy so they won't be able to help you. " Laswell said, taking a long drag and coincidently the last drag of her cigarette.

" We are going in a couple of hours. " Price said, rubbing his beard with his hand.

" Any special advice to prepare for this mercenary? " Gaz asked, worry evident his voice. Soap nodded, agreeing with Gaz's question.

" You have to be there mentally. " Price said. Everyone nodded, knowing that there was no way to prepare themselves. It was going to be very dangerous and there was no way to tell how this mission was going to end.

The silence was heavy in the plane. Nobody dared to say anything, everyone was nervous. Soap was bouncing his leg, Gaz was sweating like never before. Ghost was, maybe for the first time ever, was scared in the field. And Price?

There was a bad feeling brewing from within him. Everyone witnessed in some way how brutal and efficient he could be. How ruthless... Merciless...

John shook his head. It wasn't good to think about. Despite the fact that he could use everything as a weapon... That was kind of concerning.

But they could persevere. They could win. All they need is some faith and a miracle to do so. The chopper dropped them off near a house. Well, it was more houses, but they were apart, around 10 meters from each other.

They would have to split.

" Gaz, you are with me. We will have to take the first house. You two take the other. " Price said, getting out of the chopper.

There was a chorus of yes sir and they split up. Everyone was on high alert. They watched their backs, knowing how (Y/N) could be a stealthy bastard. It was quiet over the comms, everyone knowing that they needed to be quiet.

A single mistake could cost them their life.

Gaz and Price moved quietly through the house, stopping at the basement door where they saw blood. Gaz and Price looked at one another. They gripped their rifles tighter and Price slowly opened the doors. The stairs were covered in blood and the smell was just horrid.

They both wanted to gag. Gaz called it in and they moved down. One of their targets from another mission was here. Their target was supposed to be dead. What was he doing here?

" Be careful Gaz. " Price whispered, moving deeper into the basement.

" Rog sir. " Gaz confirmed quietly.

Eventually Price managed to reach the light switch. He turned it on and it was a ghastly sight. Bodies just laying down dead. The worst of all, there were no signs of struggle.

Gaz felt a shudder go through his body and both of them freeze when they hear somebody walk above them. Ghost and Soap would have called it in. Gaz and Price shared a look before moving upstairs, back on the ground floor.

(C/D), standing there, nursing a cup of something.

" Captain. Sergeant. " (C/D) said, raising his cup.

" All right, drop down on your knees and show us your hands! " Price said, making (Y/N) look at him blankly.

" You two realize that I can kill you with this cup, right? " (C/D) said, clearly not impressed.

" What do you want? " Gaz asked, making (Y/N) put the cup down.

" I have a proposition. But I need the other two here too. " (Y/N) said, leaning back on the kitchen counter. Price could see a knife strapped to his thigh, not to mention a gun, tucked in the lower back of (Y/N).

Gaz called Soap and Ghost and those two came in record time. Ghost and (Y/N) stared at one another. Ghost wanted to jump him, but he knew better. (Y/N) was better than him, better than the four of them combined.

" What is happening? " Soap asked, confused to see (Y/N) so relaxed. It was eerie.

" I wanted to give you guys a proposition. " (Y/N) said calmly, looking at the task force.

(Y/N) waited for a moment before continuing, " I will work together with you guys. I will live on the base under your supervision, but there is one condition. " (Y/N) said, watching various reactions. Shock, suspicion, wonder...

" And what would that be? " Price asked.

" I get to have my privacy. I will be on base, but I want my privacy. "

" And what do we get in return? " Price asked.

" You won't be afraid of me anymore. You don't think I didn't see the fear in your eyes when you saw me? Not to mention that you will have a great asset on your team. " (Y/N) said.

Everyone looked at one another, clearly thinking. (Y/N) wasn't wrong in any way shape or form. They feared him and the fact that they might have him on the team...

" Okay, you are coming with us, now. " Price said, nodding his head towards the chopper outside.

" Just don't cuff me and we will be fine. "

Everyone entered the chopper and started flying. It was definitely tense and Gaz broke the silence.

" Is true that you could kill us with the mug? " Gaz asked, gathering attention from everybody.

" Yes. Everything is weapon. I could kill you with a bobby pin. " (Y/N) said, shrugging his shoulders.

The chopper fell into silence once more. This was going to be interesting... Partnership.

" Price, remind me again, why do we have to spar with (Y/N)? " Soap asked, watching as (Y/N) got ready to spar with Ghost. It was going to be the showdown of the decade. And the biggest showdown in the history of this base.

" Because you need to know what you need to work on. Believe it or not, he knows a lot. " Price explained.

" Oh my God. " Gaz said. (Y/N) turned his head to look at Ghost, looking at the weak spots that the big man might have.

" Wait, why did you kill our previous target? " Gaz asked, remembering the bodies.

" I went rouge. He was... A problem to me. So I got rid of him. He died slowly, just like he deserved. " (Y/N) explained, looking at Gaz.

Gaz nodded, moving away from the ropes. Ghost and (Y/N) walked into the ring. Ghost would rather die than admit this, but he was very nervous.

Price whistled and the two started sparring. Well, (Y/N) sparred. Ghost was thrown across the ring with absolute ease. Soap's jaw fell down onto the floor.

Oh my God.

Price didn't know what to say. He tried to, but no words came out. Gaz had to sit down on the floor. And poor Ghost? He just laid there... In pain... Not physical, no. His pride was hurting. And so was his reputation.

(Y/N) just wiped his hands.

" Okay, I think that this cooperation is going to go well. " Price said, clapping his hands together.

Ghost just grunted from the mat. Soap sighed and Gaz stayed silent. (Y/N) snickered quietly. Yeah, it's going to go well.

[i-cant-sing]

Babyfushi after forcing bananami to please princess with her :

Babyfushi : do you feel bonita ? 🥺✨

Bananami: I feel bonita

Oh for sure. Nanami knows better by now to just sigh and play along than to refuse your chubby little face that literally drops when he tells you "no." Its better to sit down and pretend to eat whatever air-snack you've made him while wearing a tiara than to deal with you sobbing to Gojo about how "Banananananamin hates me!"

But omg imagine toddler reader getting down on one knee and proposing to Nanami with a ringpop, because she panicked when Gojo teased her and told her that he was gonna marry Nanami before her.

Now Nanami is glitching because what the fuck is he supposed to do? How does he handle this situation without you ending up in tears?

Fortunately, Megumi came just in time to haul you away and spare Nanami from answering. Toddler reader is just about crying to be let down so that she can marry Nanami, and now Yuji and Megumi are trying to console you, but you are beyond grief and finally, Sukuna takes over Yuji's body after seeing the distressed state you were in.

"Why are you crying, brat?" He asked you, crossing his arms.

You sniffled. "I wanna marry Nanami!"

Sukuna narrowed his eyes. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"But why?" You wailed loudly.

"Because he's not worthy of you. And you promised me last week that you'd wait for me to take you as my bride once you're of age, didn't you?"

You tilted your head in confusion, while Megumi behind you paled. "I... dont remember?" You confessed.

"Yes, you're stupid, I'm well aware. However, you have promised me to be my wife. And I intend to hold you to that promise."

Megumi shook his head. "You- you can't do that-"

Sukuna grinned, an evil glint in his eyes. "Oh but I can. She promised me. I accepted. You know that promises with curses can't be broken."

Megumi was far too shocked to speak, while you're still sniffling. "So... you'll marry me?" You asked.

Sukuna nodded. "I will. And to prevent you from marrying anyone else because you are a little idiot, I will give you this." Snapping his fingers, a beautiful gold ring with a large ruby stone appeared in his hands. Taking your chubby little hand in his, Sukuna proposed.

"You will marry me."

"Yes!" You answered cheerfully, as he slid on the ring to your finger, the ring immediately binding around it to the appropriate size.

"No spell, no curse, nothing can remove this ring-"

"What if I cut my finger?"

"..."

"Hm?"

Sukuna's gaze hardened. "I won't let you. If you try to hurt yourself, I'll punish you. Now swear you won't do it."

"I promise, 'kuna!" You grinned before pulling out your ringpop, coincidentally it's also red. "I got a ring for you too!"

"That's candy. And you were going to give it to someone else."

"Oh? You don't want it-"

Sukuna snatched the ringpop from your hand, forcefully pushing it on his finger but it didn't fit past the first knuckle. "No, give me that stupid ring."

"We're engaged!" You cheered, clapping your hands, not realising that this is not some pretend play.

Sukuna nodded, leaning down to bump his nose with yours. "Engaged, bound together for eternity- same thing."

"You're mine forever." Sukuna said before leaving, letting Yuji take over again, all while Megumi is sitting there shell shocked with just one thing going through his brain:

WHAT THE FUCK?

I'm thinking that Naoya is absolutely losing his shit once he finds out, Gojo and Nanami are going through every fucking spell book in history to break the ring, and Toji is on a violet spree and is spending day and night on how he's gonna kill Sukuna because like hell he'll marry you or let anyone cut your finger off.

[breathingmelancholy]

Summary: You treat Astarion's wounds after a battle and he decides to test if his hand is still performing the way it should. 

Astarion x Female reader; Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Light dom/sub. PIV sex, Male masturbation.

Word count: 4477 words. (Yeah, I think I got carried away.)

Author's note: Please, be kind. This is my first time doing this in a long time. And english is not my native language.

You sigh. "Okay, look. You're being melodramatic," you say. "I promise I've patched you up."

"Oh really?" Astarion drawls in response. "Prove it."

This game of flirting-without-flirting-but-it-kinda-is-flirting that you and Astarion have going on can be exhausting. But it's like a dance you know every step of by now, and you know exactly how to keep him going.

"Hmm. Try to use your hand. Let's see if it still works." You teased. "Promise it's fine. You won't have any problems... Performing." She had an almost devious smile upon her lips.

"I hate you." Astarion's words don't carry any venom- he's too amused for that.

"You know you love it, though," He return with a little grin. Astarion's grin remains, but it's more sheepish now.

Oh yeah. You could keep this going for as long as you need to.

"Do I?" You teased. "And what is that, exactly?" Your eyes met his, a smirk on your lips. You rested your hands on your own lap, after finishing patching him up.

Astarion leans forward. "Hmm. Do you really need me to spell it out for you?" he asks, as he leans in closer.

It's only half flirting- you both know that- but it's enough to keep the sparks flying.

"I have no idea what you are speaking about." But your eyes said otherwise. "Use your words, love." There it was, the half smile. She breathed in slowly.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He's still leaning in towards you- it's no wonder you can feel the heat when he's so close.

"Unless you're suddenly hard of hearing," he says, before leaning in even closer, so that you could practically count his eyelashes.

"Would you like me to really spell it out for you then?" he purrs.

"Yes." You dared him, leaning in as well. "How about that?" You raised one hand, touching a lock of his hair, tucking it in behind his ear.

"Oh, you like it rough?" Astarion's voice remains low, almost a whisper as his breath brushes across the shell of your ear. He reaches a hand up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, and traces his thumb just below the outside of it.

"Is this what you wanted me to spell out, hm?" It's not a question- it's a statement, and he's a predator about to go in for the kill.

"Yes. You look so handsome begging for it." You teased, well aware that would snap him. You know how much he likes that. He teased you and you did as well, but nothing has happened until now. Maybe it was time to change that.

His fingers clamp down on your wrist, tightening around it enough to make his grip almost painful.

"Begging?" He hisses between clenched teeth, leaning even closer to you. You're only an inch away from him now.

"It is you who will be begging. For mercy." He whispers in your ear before leaning back just enough to see your face again. He waits, watching you, waiting for you to admit it.

"Try me." You teased, but didn't give in. Your smile was flirtatious, malicious. But there wasn't a hint of doubt as you leaned in, so close so he could feel your breath.

His grip tightens upon your wrist as you lean in towards him. Just as the breath catches in your throat from your faces being so close, he tugs slightly on the wrist he has a grip on, drawing you just closer enough to his face that your noses are almost touching.

He doesn't wait. The hand that was holding onto your wrist shifts, reaching up to cradle the side of your head, as his other hand moves from your other wrist to fall upon your shoulder.

His breath was hot upon your cheek.

Your lips were almost touching him, yet they haven't met. You wanted him to give in. Hands free, you rested one hand on his shoulder, the other one rested on his leg. Your gaze was firm, teasing, daring him.

"I could kiss you right now," he promises softly. His hands tighten around you, and with him being so close, you can feel everything. Even the movement of his ribs with each breath he draws in.

His breath catches for a moment as your hand rests upon his leg. How long had he been wanting this? How long had you been wanting this?

"Shall I?" He leans in slightly, just enough for you to feel his breath on your lip, teasingly close, but not quite touching.

"Do it." You dared, leaning in ever closer, close enough to brush your lips against his slightly.

This is what he was waiting for.

Astarion lets out a low noise at the touch of your lips upon his. A moan, a shiver. The hand upon your head pulls you in by the back of your scalp, angling your face just so that he can meet your lips head-on.

It isn't soft, this kiss. It's hot, and it's hungry, and it's almost animalistic in its ferocity.

But you weren't shy. If anything, you were daring. As your body leaned in to correspond his kiss, you leaned in enough so you could place yourself at his lap. "Is this what you want?" You whispered between his kiss. Your hands were now in his head, caressing the white locks of hair.

His arms wrap around you. "More than anything," he promises. His hands trail up and down your back, pulling you into him. His lips trail down your mouth and back up again, seeking out your neck.

He pulls your body on top of him, letting you rest on his lap as he continues to kiss her.

"You feel so good." he mumbles. He seems completely lost in this moment, so focused on you that it's as though you're the only thing that matters to him, the only thing that exists.

Brushing your hair away from one side of her neck, you gave him full access to it. With a soft moan, you sighed, feeling his hard body against yours. "You havent seen anything yet."

His hands trail from your back up to your shoulders, then from there down to your hips, holding you snugly against him. His teeth graze your neck, causing you to shiver.

His body shuddered in anticipation. Yes, you liked the pace at which things were going. Closing your eyes, you were at his mercy and his desires. It was clear that you would accept everything he proposed at that moment.

The kisses continue, but now they are even more wild than before. Now, instead of a slow, teasing pace, his kisses are rough. He seems to have given into his own lust and desire for you, like he can't get enough.

He kisses his way from your neck to your mouth again. The moment your lips touch, he is kissing you just as rough as before, his tongue slipping into your mouth and dueling against yours. You teased him and it was clear that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Your body on top of his, your hands ran from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, reaching inside, touching his pale bare skin.Your fingers trail across his skin, and he whimpers.

Astarion seems lost in this moment, like he has no thoughts or concerns beyond getting as close to you as possible. His kisses become desperate, hungry, as he pulls you down on top of him. His lips press against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes.

You were able to feel every inch of his body beneath yours. Gods, he was driving you crazy with his touch. His touch contrasted with yours, your body was heating up, but you shivered in response. Lips against his, you slowly moved your hips onto his lap, teasing him.

The moment you move you feel his breath hitch.

He whimpers.

He needs this, and he desperately wants you to give it to him. He moves his hands from your shoulder to your waist, and pulls you onto his lap, holding you on top of him as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing you roughly with a hunger that seems completely untamed at this point.

You gave in and now your touch was as hungry as his. You wanted him and it was clear. You were his to do with as he pleased. Her hands rose from his stomach to his chest, bringing up his shirt. "I want to feel you." You moaned softly.

His breath hitches. Your words are like music to his ears.

And as your hands reach underneath his shirt, and begin to explore the muscles beneath, you can feel them tense. Your fingertips trail across his body, and he shivers again.

"Touch me," he begs, "Please touch me."

You removed his shirt, revealing his naked body. You touched his skin gently, the tips of your nails gently tracing his chest, teasing him. He was beautiful, especially now. "I told you I'd make you beg." You teased, a mischievous smile on your lips. Moving your body, your hand on his chest applied gentle downward pressure, motioning for his back to meet the floor. With each leg around his hips, you brought your lips to his again.

If your kisses are rough, this has now become all the more passionate. His tongue is battling against yours, and you feel his lips upon yours so strongly that it's almost as if your mouths are fused together.

The way your hand presses upon his chest causes him to let out a tiny moan of delight, his entire body tensing as your fingers trail over him.

"Is this what you want?" he whispers urgently.

"More than anything." You admitted, a smile on your lips. Your lips trailed kisses down your body, now onto his neck. Your lips were warm against his cold skin, as were your fingers that subtly traced the contours of his arms.

His neck is sensitive, the way your fingers trail down it causing him to flinch and whimper. He's almost like your plaything at this point, and he seems to absolutely love being it.

His body arches slightly with your touch, and he shivers with each movement you make. With your lips now on his neck, he whispers breathlessly.

"I need you..."

Your kisses got lower and lower on his body. Your lips were on his chest and then his stomach. Your gaze never left his. "What do you need from me, love? I want to hear you say it." You said softly, a smile on your lips.

His breath catches in his throat, his body arching as all sensation seems to be focused on his stomach, where you're kissing him.

You can see the muscles in his abs tense.

"I need you." he says, his voice a hoarse murmur. "I just- please- do anything you want with me."

You moved your hands lower, finding the buttons on his pants. "Is this what you want?" You mumbled, gently biting your lip. You never grew tired of teasing him. Observing his reactions leave you ecstatic, amazed. It was clear the effect you had on him.

His breath catches at your whisper. The buttons being undone causes him to hiss in pleasure. His body feels like it's trembling.

"Please..." he begs.

Oh, how he loves this. This teasing, this playing, the way your words and actions seem like they go hand in hand with each response from him.

Moving your body up enough so that your lips could meet his, you slid your hand inside his pants, touching him hard cock. Your gaze fixed on his, you moaned softly when you felt wrapped your fingers around him.

His entire body seemed to clench with the sensation of your touch. This was definitely something he was enjoying, your teasing, the way you seem to be able to drive him wild with one word or one touch.

His lips press against yours as he whimpers, the way his body tenses up at your touch just sending him into ecstasy.

With your fingers wrapped around erection, your started slow up and down movements. You were attentive to his body's reactions, delighting in each time his body trembled in response to your touch. You had a mischievous smile on your lips and it didn't take long for you to kiss him again, your tongue asking for permission to enter his mouth again.

He lets your tongue into his mouth gladly- he's more than willing to give you everything you want, it seems. He can't get enough of you, not your kisses, not your touch, not anything you decide to do next.

His breaths come quickly and rough now. You can feel his body trembling against yours. You can feel the sweat and heat on his body as he starts to really get into the moment.

You savor every response his body shows. Your tongue entered his mouth and you tasted him on you. It was ecstatic. Keeping up your movements, you quickened the pace of your hands gradually. "Do you like it rough?" You teased him, asking him the same question he had just asked minutes ago. But now the roles were reversed.

Astarion whimpers in response, his body tensing again with it.

"You know very well that I do," he whines to you through gritted teeth. Your touch is driving him wild, he can't believe he's let you have this much control over him. He starts to moan softly, his fingers digging into your skin.

You cracked a smile in response. Following his request, your pace is now a little faster, more rougher. You were skilled with your hands. And you wanted more of him every moment. Your lips brushed against his, hearing him moan was like a sweet melody you couldn't get enough of. Resting your forehead on his, your gaze roamed his body.

Every sound he makes, every moan, sends your heart racing. And with your pace being faster this time, this rough time, it's getting worse. The sound of his breath catching in his throat is pure ecstasy, and you can't get enough of it- nor can he get enough of you.

You start to moan back. You can't help it, but the sound of your own moans only makes things hotter.

Your free hand now went down to your own blouse, unbuttoning its buttons. Your gaze in his, you made this process slow, teasing and tempting him. The smile never left your lips and you moaned softly in response to him. You kept a rougher pace, just enough to make him crave more.

He lets out a moan as you continue to unbutton your own clothes, your hand now wandering lower.

Your tease is driving him absolutely wild. Your hands seem to be getting him closer, and closer to the edge.

His own moans grow louder, and his breathing becomes quicker. He pulls you closer, his fingers digging in tighter and tighter.

You undid the buttons on your own blouse, leaving your breasts exposed for him. Your pace was now gradually slowing down, painfully slow. You wanted to leave him wanting for more. A mischievous smile on your lips, you were amused by his desire. You wanted to push him over the edge.

Every moment he seems more and more desperate for some kind of release, and he seems to be getting closer to that edge.

The way you're handling him, it's like you want to see him break. You want to see how far you can push him. You can feel your own arousal growing with every moan he lets out in response to your teasing touch.

It felt like your body was trembling, thirsty for his touch. With her free hand, she brought one of his hands to one of her breasts and nodded softly, giving him permission to touch her in return. His every touch released sparks of electricity that coursed through her body. "I want you. In me." You pleaded in a sigh.

Astarion is almost speechless as you bring his hand to your chest. Your soft nods, the way your body trembles, they have him so desperate that he can't even get the words out properly.

Your pleading gets a guttural moan out of his lungs. His fingertips trail across you softly, his thumb dancing along that spot that sends shivers down your spine.

"Oh... please, please, I need you" he moaned back, his desperation rising with every word.

He wouldn't have to ask twice. You placed yourself on his lap again and your lips sought his. Her hands removed the rest of her blouse and moved to his cheeks, cupping his face. You still had your pants on, but not for long.

You lay on top of him in a way that puts you above him, which seems to increase your power and dominance. Your hands explore every inch of him as you kiss his mouth, your lips on his as you remove your pants.

His hands trail from your chest down to your waist and down again, exploring every inch of your body. You can hear him moaning from every touch, and even his breathing has become more and more frantic over the fact that you've taken so much control of the situation.

You removed the rest of your clothes and his in a tortuous pace. You saw him flinch at your touch, your body on top of his. Pressing your hips against him, you moved slowly, testing how long it would take for him to give in. Moaning against his lips, you smiled softly. The roles had quickly reversed and now he was the one asking for the mercy of her touch.

His moans are a low rumble in his chest. The way you're teasing him- slowly working him up to that very edge- is the perfect mixture of torture and pleasure.

He's the one begging for more now, and it's an incredible power dynamic shift. He's at your mercy now, and he's more than willing to fall right into it- and fall into you.

“Who knew…” You sighed, surprised. You were able to feel him hard beneath your and he was able to feel how aroused he made you. With your lips on his, your hands explored his body again, shuddering. That was hot. It made her want to reverse roles again, giving up control to him.

He's still letting you explore, too curious and too far gone to do much else to keep you from your touch. All he can manage is soft whispers in your ear, begging and pleading for you to keep going.

"Let's see how you do being the top now." You sighed, satisfied. This time, you were at his mercy. "Let's see if you can keep your word." You challenged him. The whole power dynamic change made you more and more excited. You were shuddering at his touch, moving subtly on his lap.

"I can do this... I will do this." he hisses back to you, his hands already traveling up your body again.

Your challenge was one that would surely be answered. His breaths are already starting to quicken, and he's already pushing against you, trying to push you down onto the bed.

"Just... lay down, okay? You're driving me crazy like this," he explains, a deep shiver flowing down his spine.

You smiled, agreeing with his request. Laying down next to him, your eyes followed every movement he made. You had given him permission and space to take control this time. You were his to toy now.

The control he takes of the situation is a thing of beauty. He's careful not to overstep any boundary, but he clearly knows just what to do to keep you on your toes, and on the edge.

Those same hands that were roaming over your body before, are now holding you down gently, but firmly, as he begins to explore your body again. Your moans rise higher, and he gives you a cheeky smirk as he sees the response that he's getting out of you.

You moaned in response to his touch, so light it made him question how loud you could be if he took it rougher. Even though you let him dominate you, you didn't stop teasing him. Your nails ran down his naked body, making him flinch. You explored every inch of him, moaning at his ear to just tease him further.

His moans rise higher as you tease him, and the way your nails trail down his body sends shivers down his spine. Your touch does not go unappreciated, and he starts to moan back- every part of him feels sensitive when you touch him.

Your whispers are like a lullaby to him. His entire body is so tense, so ready to break- but he seems to be enjoying the way you're driving him wild.

"I want you to dominate me." She whispered between moans. Parting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist. Her breath was fresh and sweet, touching his skin. You were warm to the touch and you made sure to teach him where you liked to be touched by him.

He lets out a shiver at the touch of your breath, your words giving him the push he needs to start being a bit rougher.

His hands go from holding yours to grabbing your thighs and holding your legs spread wide, keeping you in place. Your body is so warm, as you wrap your legs around his waist tightly.

His hips are now moving against you, pushing himself deep into you. His tongue is tracing your mouth passionately.

As his hips crashed into yours, you allowed a louder moan to leave your lips. Your legs were clenching around him, but he kept you in place. — F-fu.. — You couldn't even finish your sentence, intoxicated by his touch. Your lips pressing against his, you allowed him access to fall deeper into you. You brought your right hand to your clit, gently stimulating it.

He lets out a deep moan as your words are cut off. His lips meet yours again with renewed passion, as he gives you a gentle bite- nothing too hard, just enough to keep you on your toes.

His hips are moving faster and faster, as he starts to become more and more desperate for release.

You smiled, clearly amused. You felt the air leaving your lungs as you reached your edge, holding yourself to him. Bringing his body to yours, you trembled, incapable of forming words, just moan his name. "Astarion..."

The sound of your voice brings his breath to stop momentarily- he loves hearing you moaning his name. Seeing his control over your body makes every move he makes that much more powerful.

Knowing this, he now begins to stimulate you, removing your hand so he can touch you himself. His thumb moved skillfully over your clit, driving you crazy.

His hips slow only for a moment as you moan out his name, before he speeds up again- you're on the edge, ready to fall off, and he's the one with his finger on the trigger.

You whined, begging for your sweet release. Your gaze met his and your kept you eyes on him as he rocked his body against yours. "Please... I want to..." You begged.

He slowed his pace, to a somewhat rhytmn. Leaning in, he whispered in your ear.

"What you want?" He teased, his hot breath touching your skin. "Use your, darling. Beg."

"Oh, for gods sake - f-fuck me. I want cum on your cock. Please, please." As you beg and moan, he speeds up again, his lips biting your neck as he does so. Your eyes looked at him with the same hungry look as his, and the moment he senses it, he's there- pressing himself deep within you - you can feel him twitch inside you, and you feel a wave of heat rush up his body.

You moaned loader as your whole body trembled, reaching that edge. You clenched, feeling him take every sense out of you. "Gods." You whispered, out of breath. Closing your eyes, you rested your forehead on his. You were numb after all this and the rest of the camp probably heard you in his tent. But you didnt care anymore, all you wanted was to be his.

You are his. That much has been made clear. He pulls you closer to him at your words, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a sigh of contentment. His lips are pressed to yours, as he's already beginning to slow down to catch his breath.

His hands are still holding you firmly in place, refusing to let you go, his breath panting against your neck.

You kept kissing him, several pecks on his lips. But this time, you were both tired, out of breath. You sighed in relief. Even after crashing, his touch still had a effect on your body. His breath touched your skin, warm and inviting. You catched you breath slowly as your hands traced up against the skin of his arms, resting on his neck.

Your fingers caress across his skin slowly, your breaths becoming lighter as the moments go on.

The effects of the crash are still lingering, your body still shivers as he continues to rest against you. Your chest is against his. Everything feels too good, too right for this moment to be over yet- the heat of his body against yours, the softness of his skin- it's the perfect blend of the two of you, and it's the perfect way to keep each other's warmth.

Resting your forehead in his, you smiled, your eyes closed. "That was..." You sighed. Amazing, you tought. You didnt have enough to express it."You're... Gods."

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other, your breathing slowing down enough that it's not as heavy as before.

As you sigh and lay your forehead against his, he lets out a little grin.

"You're just as amazing," he replies, his words already getting softer at this point. "And I'm not sure I could ever find the words to do you justice. God, you're..."

You smiled and shut him with a slow kiss. Between the kiss, you whispered. "Let's definitely do this again. I've never felt this way before. " You were talking about the way he made your body feel, but he could sense it was more than just that. You smiled, softly. It seems like both of you lacked words to describe each other. So you didnt. You just hold him tight with tenderness.

[gothic-thoughts]

A Different Option

FIRST LES FIC 🤩🥳🎉(yes i'm bi)

Mikasa Ackerman x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Cowgirl!Mikasa, Farmgirl!Reader, Meet Ugly

CW: country accent (sry in advance), flirting

Word Count: 1462 (give or take)

"Whoa girl!"

Despite the woman's words, the horse gallops a little closer, stopping just in time in front of making you scream and jump back, dropping your bucket of milk. Your shriek makes the steed whinny loudly and stand on its hind legs, tossing the woman off its back with a loud thud and grunt before running off and attempting to hide behind a tree no less than 30 feet away. You try to calm your racing heart as you walk over the woman as she gets up.

“What... the hell is your problem...!?”

The woman looks up at you, groaning as she grabs her cowboy hat and slowly gets to her feet. Her dark hair falls into her face, and she pushes it away before putting on the hat with a frustrated sigh.

"My problem? You the one who jumped in front of my damn horse!"

“Wha- jumped?! I ain't jump nowhere! You damn near ran me over!”

She rolls her eyes and dusts off her pants. "Ran you over? It's not my fault you weren't payin’ attention to where you were going. You lucky I didn't just trample you under my horse's hooves!"

“And you lucky I don't have you thrown in jail for trespassin'!”

"Trespassing?” She crosses her arms, “Don’t be ridiculous, I was riding through the field, not your property."

“This ‘field’ is my pa's property! You ain't see that big house up there?”

"Oh, please. I wasn't that close to the house. And there wasn't any sign saying the field was private property."

“It's on the fence spokes out front, cowgirl. You woulda seen it if you wasn't just ridin’ through grass and stayed on the damn trail.”

She sneers, pointing a finger. "Don't you sass me, girl. I can ride through wherever I please. Just because you work here doesn't give you the right to order me around."

Using your finger, you push her finger away. “Uh, that's exactly what I can do. Cuz unless ya wanna deal wit my pa and his shotgun, you gon deal wit me.” You flick the front of her cowboy hat, “And I promise you, miss lady, this is me bein' cordial.”

The dark-haired woman's eyes narrow despite the smirk on her face, clearly unaffected by your threat.

"Oh, I like you."

You pauses. “Wha- what, now?”

She chuckles and steps closer to you, her smirk turning into a smug grin. "Ya got some fire in you with a pretty face to go... and that's somethin' I appreciate..."

“Flattery ain't gettin' you nowhere, stranger.”

She laughs, stepping around you to lean against a tree trunk. "Is that right, sweetheart? Well, I guess I'll just have to find another way to win you over."

“Not before an apology. And a way to make it up to me after spillin' all this milk.”

The woman glances at the white puddles soaking into the dirt. “No use cryin’ over it, right?”

“I’m serious.”

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry for almost running you over. And I'll make it up to you, I promise. Name your price."

“Well since ion wanna get into trouble, you're gonna ride into town for me and pick up some milk for me to fill these buckets.”

She smiles and gives you a sarcastic salute. "Yes, ma'am. I'll gallop straight to the store and get you some fresh milk. Anything else I can do for you on my way? Shovel some manure and feed the pigs?"

“No, already did that before you rode all over my property and nearly killed me.”

She sighs and nods, feigning a sincere look. "Right, im sure. My apologies again for ruinin’ your hard work. I'll be sure to ride nicely as I go on my milk-fetchin’ quest."

“You got a name, miss?”

"Why you wanna know? You gonna be thinkin’ ‘bout me while I'm gone?"

“Maybe. Also to make sure you won't just take off, I need the name of the thief to tell my pa.”

The woman laughs, walking closer to you while tipping her hat a little.

"You’re good. My name's Mikasa Ackerman. And I promise, I'll come back with that milk. I'm a woman of my word."

You smirk. “Now that's somethin' I can appreciate~”

Mikasa smiles back, stepping closer until she's mere inches away with her pretty eyes locked onto yours.

"And what's your name, darlin’? If I'm gonna be fetchin’ milk for you, it'd be nice to know who I'm doing it for."

“Name's (Y/n) (L/n).”

Mikasa looks you up and down, her gaze lingering on your body for a moment before returning to your eyes.

"Now that's a pretty name... suits you too. I'll be back with your milk, (Y/n) (L/n). And I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Likewise.”

You tug the brim of her hat down over her eyes playfully to get her to stop eyeing you. Mikasa laughs, grabbing the brim of her hat and tipping it back up to see your face again only to see you were now turned around and picking up the empty milk bucket before walking back towards the cows, hips swaying with every step. Her eyes admire every curve and dip of your figure momentarily before chuckling to herself. She uses two fingers to whistle loudly in the direction of her horse, making the less frightened animal appear within seconds, trotting towards her. With that, she hops onto her saddle and rides off towards town.

Mikasa's been gone about 20 minutes and while she was out, you sat near the cows with the buckets, pretending to be milking them just in case your pa came to check on you. The entire time you were coming up with different excuses as to why you took so long when you heard fast galloping closing in on you. You look to the trail to see Mikasa riding back this way with one hand on the reins and the other holding a basket filled with glass milk bottles. You smile and can't help but feel a wave of relief that she didn't just take off and leave you high and dry. She reins in her horse a few feet away, dismounting and walking to you with the basket.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, sweetheart. Got your milk right here."

“Oh, I'm sweetheart now?” You take the basket, “Thank ya, kindly.”

Mikasa grins and leans against a fence, watching you carry the basket of milk over to the other one.

"What? I can't give pretty girls pretty nicknames? That don't seem right to me, darlin'..."

You sit down with the milk, pouring the bottles into the bucket. “You don't even know if I got a husband.”

"Lucky bastard if you do, but judging by your ringless fingers, I'm gonna guess you don't. Am I right?"

“No, but my pa is strongly suggesting I find one. 'Preferably before he passes on' as he says.”

Mikasa scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Sounds like he's a bit eager. No offense, sugar, but I don't see the rush."

“Neither do I. I enjoy feeding the animals and riding my horse.”

"I'm guessing you love your horse more than you'd ever love some man, huh?"

“Of course, and after the ones I've met? ‘Specially the ones he thought would be good for me?” You shudder with a chuckle, “It'll be while before I find a man good enough.”

Mikasa laughs, pushing herself off the fence and approaching you slowly.

"So you're saying you've yet to find a man you deem worthy of your time and attention? How about a woman...?"

You look up at her, biting your lip in thought. “Hm... S'pose I haven't thought of that...”

"Care to test the waters a bit, then? See if there's any... potential suitors who might meet your standards?"

“Hm... Anyone you could send my way...?”

She grins, her eyes flickering up and down your body as you stand up before meeting your gaze again.

"Well, I might know someone. She's got a few flaws, but she's got a good heart. And she's very, very pretty to boot."

“Really now?”

“Yes ma’am. The prettiest grey eyes you’ll ever see~”

“Hmm, does she have manners?”

"That depends on who you ask. She can be a bit rough around the edges, she doesn't always think before she speaks... But she's always genuine. And she'd treat you like a princess."

“Ooh, I never been treated like a princess.”

"Well, that's just criminal, sugar. Every lady should be treated like royalty. You included~"

“I guess, in turn, I'd have to treat her like one.

"And what if I, I mean, she don't want royalty treatment? Maybe she enjoys being all rough and whatnot..."

“Then you'll get that instead, cowgirl.”

"What, me? No, no, this is for her of course."

You tug the brim of her hat down over her pretty grey eyes playfully.

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus-Wrapped Around Her Finger

Here’s another request!

I stand starring at Isaiah after telling him the news that I'm pregnant. We have been courting one another behind my brothers backs now for a year, but this was definitely not planned

"Say something, please" I beg

"Your brothers are going to kill me"

"Bloody hell Is, that's what your worried about? I just told you I'm pregnant"

"Of course that's what I'm worried about. When you tell them I loose all chance of being a father and living" he throws his arms in the air

"Oh don't be so dramatic Is. They won't kill you. Force you to marry me, most likely"

"Whoever said that marrying you would be forced?" Isaiah looks at me with a frown

"Were you really going to ask my brothers if you could marry me?" I cross my arms with a raised eyebrow

"In the future yeah, but looks like we will have to marry quicker"

"Tommy and Grace didn't marry straight away, maybe Tommy will be more relaxed about all of this"

"At least let me prepare myself for the rathe of the Shelby's"

"Fine but we tell them end of this week"

The end of the week comes by way to quickly and now I'm stood in front of my whole family about to tell them that I'm pregnant

"Alright YN. Out with it" Tommy says placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth before lighting it up

"Well erm. I guess we should just come out with it"

"We?" Arthur questions looking between me and and Isaiah

"Yes. Err we have been, involved with each other for a while now and...."

"And what?" Tommy asks with an angry expression

"I'm pregnant"

"What!" John is the first one out of his chair "you better be bloody joking"

"Calm down John. YNs not a kid anymore. She's the same age as we were when we had..."

"We were married" John points at Esme

"Fuck sake YN. I don't care that you've been busy behind our backs because your an adult but how stupid can you be to get pregnant?"

"Arthur that's unfair. You could say the same for me"

"I did" Arthur retaliates looking at Ada. I look at Tommy worried because he hasn't said anything yet

"Tom?"

"Well. Can't say I'm not disappointed, but I got Grace pregnant out of marriage and John boy only married Martha because she got pregnant so I can't get to angry. However. I think Isaiah and I should have a little chat"

"Oh Tommy leave him be" Polly says getting up and walking over to me "congratulations sweetheart" she pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek

"How can you all be so chilled out by this?" Arthur asks annoyed "Isaiah was meant to keep YN safe and away from men"

"He did just that didn't he" John grumbles. A fire is then lit up inside me and I suddenly get very brave

"Ok wether you like it or not, I'm pregnant and I'm having this baby. Isaiah and I aren't getting married just because I'm pregnant. So you can either all act like my family or fuck off" I notice Tommy smirking. John and Arthur both settle back down, still grumbling about how they aren't happy with me. I roll my eyes and then I'm pulled into another hug, this time by Ada and Esme

"Congratulations YN" Ada says

"Thank you"

"So am I going to survive long enough to see my child?" Isaiah asks

"You'll survive long enough to raise the child, love the child and take care of my sister" Tommy stubs his cigarette out and leans back in his chair

"Yeah, yeah course"

"Thank you Tommy" I run over to him and hug him being grateful that he was able to keep everyone calm, or as calm as the Shelby boys can be

"She's always had him wrapped round her bloody finger" Arthur grumbles takes a swig of his drink. I roll my eyes at the comment. All my brothers love me so him and John will get over this eventually.

[futurecorps3]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭

Masterlist<3

Summary: Sirius and reader finally get together and it's time for dinner at the Potter's! Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader Warnings: Idk if it counts as a warning but there's Remus x Regulus for a quick second because I really just couldn't help myself HAHA, and brief mentions of war. Let me know if I missed any! Word Count: 2.8k Requested: Yes A/N: This request is so lovely,, I want to bawl my eyes out. Thank you so much @siriuslyjanhvi for this sweet little piece <3 hope u like it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* "Darling, are you almost done? I don't want to rush you but- shit." His leg stopped bouncing and if his anatomy allowed it, his jaw would be on the floor. Y/N stood there in the black silk dress and chunky heels of the same color she got on their shopping trip last week, clumsily fidgeting with the silver necklace as she'd been too stubborn to ask for her boyfriend's help sooner. "I'm sorry love, it's just this stupid necklace clip won't...well, clip. Can you help me?"

Sirius stood behind her and gently took the metal piece off her fingers, noticing the retouched black nail polish now matching with his. "You look gorgeous," he mumbled, easily fixing the simple looking yet fancy piece of jewelry around her neck and placing a kiss on her shoulder blade. Y/N turned around, wrapping her arms next to his head as he cradled her waist. They've spent so many hours like this since they started dating -and even a little more before- it now feels too natural not to do it when facing each other.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Pads" the girl smiled cheekily, pecking his nose and pulling away from his grasp. "Let's go. Lily will kill us if she finds out we're late because we spent too much time 'gazing into each other's eyes' as she says we do." Sirius laughed airily, grabbing the coat she was clearly forgetting and fixing his hair one last time in the mirror before exiting their bedroom.

As they got into the cab and drove through the rainy streets of London, the boy looked over to Y/N who was intently staring at the droplets of water in the window. Anyone else would've guessed she was looking out into the sidewalk or small businesses along the road, but he knew better. He knew her. Sirius' mind then wandered to all those years he spent staring.

Staring at the way her cheeks reddened when he'd throw one of his seemingly meaningless flirtatious comments. Staring at how her hands contorted when writing, the specific position they had and how much strength she was applying in order for the parchment to stay intact but her letters to be clear. Staring at her as the sun came up on Hogwarts's rooftops and lit up her face beautifully, making him believe in that god his muggle friends mentioned so often.

Oh, how much time he had wasted! But he was too daft to realize little Y/N Y/L/N felt exactly the same way about him. She stared too. Lily once told him after he confessed that she sometimes zoned-out when thinking or staring too hard at him. They were equally whipped for each other and their friends even thought of running a bet on who'd break first. Sirius did and James, Peter, Marlene and Regulus would be fifty galleons richer to this day if the bet would've been concealed.

He felt his hand being squeezed, now actually staring at her and not lost thinking about her while his eyes happened to be directed in her direction. "M'sorry. What?" "I'm really nervous," she giggled anxiously and just then he realized she was tapping her feet lightly on the car's carpet. "Love, they've known you for years! Us moving together let alone dating won't change how they perceive you" "I know, it's just... Euphemia and Fleamont were too polite as to say anything last time we were over for movie night and I noticed little reaction from either of them!" That was over six months ago and they had been dating for four prior to that. After said night, the couple had independently seen Jame's parents, but not really together as a couple.

Euphemia had made small comments around the time they moved in together and Sirius figured she was trying to be respectful of his pace to formally introduce the lively girl they knew all too well as his girlfriend. That day was today. "We're going to be fine, my dear. They're well aware of what's been going on with us... consider this dinner to be merely a catch-up." She let out a breath she didn't know was holding and squeezed his hand again in confirmation.

Soon, the cab stopped. They both walked out after Sirius payed the man, almost giving him galleons. The Potter household had been some kind of sanctuary during the past few years, Y/N recalled as the warm lights bled outside. Inviting. Tender. Just like the family, the house sheltered. "Y'ready darling?" she asked now, as if she was not shitless scared herself. "Let's go," Sirius nodded, taking her hand in his once again and walking firmly towards the door.

The boy walked the few cobble stone steps that led to the entrance and knocked twice. "If it isn't the Blacks!" James smiled, engulfing his best friends in a bone-crushing hug, as always. He had this on-going joke after he proposed to Lily (and she said yes) that Sirius' had to pop the question to Y/N soon and referred to them as "The Blacks" every time they saw each other. "Hello, Jamie" Y/N giggled, kissing his cheek and stepping inside, letting her boyfriend's boyfriend and boyfriend hug for a little longer.

She looked over to the living room and found Remus sitting in one of the green and yellow corduroy couches, smoking a fag he quickly put out in the glass ashtray when she walked in, knowing there was nothing she despised more than the smell of smoke after she quit. Y/N's heart warmed at the action and opened her arms as the lycanthrope approached her. "Hello, sweetheart" he mumbled against her scalp "Hi, baby".

To anyone outside their circle, the interactions Y/L/N and Lupin had might've seemed odd; the nicknames, the regular physical touch, or the constant acts of service. Some could've thought they were dating and certainly there were more than best friends. They were in love with each other as one's in love with pretty flowers or sunsets. Purely platonic, but with a passion that could exterminate kingdoms if given the time. Almost like James's love for Sirius and vice versa.

"Have you tried the coffee?" he asked, pulling away while keeping an arm draped around her shoulders and pressing his mouth against her head. Y/N peered up at him with excitement in her eyes at the thought of the Colombian coffee Remus had gifted her. She looked forward to drinking a cup or two every morning. "It's the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love how you can bite into some tiny pieces of the coffee beans that remain after brewing it". Moony laughed at that, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

"It's great," Sirius' voice was heard as he was standing in front of them now. Remus smirked at his best friend. "I recall I bought that for Y/N/N, not for you, you nasty dog". Y/N's boyfriend barked a laugh and hugged him while roughly patting his back. "Good to see you too, Moons" he said between chuckles before pulling away.

"Mum and dad are in the kitchen, feel like making your grand entrance lovebirds?" James asked from afar, already walking towards said area with Remus trailing behind him. With Remus's warm embrace and how loved her friends made her feel, the stress she had been going through for the past days hours washed away. It was just Euphemia and Fleamont. It was just the Potters. They'd be okay.

Y/N looked at Sirius with expectancy in her eyes and a promise on her lips; they were ready. They held hands, squeezed his lightly and stepped to where their friends were. The spicy smell of whatever James's mom was cooking filled their nostrils, almost making them sneeze. She loved to experiment with them. Lily sat at the table, waving them briefly before she directed her gaze at her in-laws to see their reactions.

Euphemia and Fleamont stopped the meaningless, playful argument they were having about the dish in question and just stared. The silence made the fright come back. She wasn't sure if the sweat that now made her hands wet was from Sirius or from her (or both), Y/N sported a timid smile. "Mum, dad..." her boyfriend started, tightening her grip around her hand "...this is my girlfriend, Y/N". Remus couldn't help but giggle at his mate's behavior. "They know her already Pa-" "I know." He stated all too sure of himself, everyone except his parents laughing.

"Merlin" Euphemia sighed, walking towards them and stopping right there. "My babies!" he squealed, hugging them both just like James had when he greeted them. Y/N could barely return the hug before Euphemia cupped her face while smiling. Then she turned to look at Sirius. "Took you long enough! I thought I'd die before seeing you two together." She smiled wholeheartedly as the others laughed and uttered small agreements.

Fleamont then approached the girl, a knowing eye in his gaze as he always knew Y/N had a thing for Sirius. "I'm thrilled for you kids" he spoke, deep voice lazed in kindness just like the boy he raised. "Y/N was a nervous wreck before we got here," Sirius teased, and his girlfriend looked at him with wide eyes. He did not. "Why!? There's absolutely no reason for you to be-" "Your son's a liar, Euphemia. Come on, let's set the table boys" she cut off, glaring daggers at her lover as he responded by blowing her a kiss with a little wink and an arrogant smirk.

James's mom couldn't help but smile at the exchange. After some time, everyone sat at the table, eager to taste whatever the 'oh so great matriarch' (Lily's drunk praises) had prepared for them. Y/N sat next to her boyfriend, Lily, James and Remus on their other side and their parents sat on both vertical sides of the table. Sirius always left a seat next to him in case his brother showed up.

Naturally, he received invitations whenever these little gatherings would occur since he stuck around his boyfriend, but wouldn't show up or otherwise politely decline. Remus wasn't too bothered by it, knowing he had a hard time settling calmly in "enemy" lines with the whole deal of him being a spy for the Order. They all hoped he'd walk through their door one day... so, until then, the seat would remain intact.

"Be careful, it's burning hot" Euphemia warned, taking her place at the dinner table and smiling sweetly at everyone. "Here, darling" Sirius said, placing a napkin on Y/N's legs and as James noticed the gesture, did the same for Lily. His dad chuckled at that before everyone digged in.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Oh, I have one!" Her boyfriend said, patting his feet eagerly on the floor when Euphemia asked for anecdotes of their Hogwarts youth now that they got older and could disclose the details they all kept hidden when they were younger. "My dear girlfriend was advised by some former booger goblin that goes by the name of Lily Evans to take a shot of firewhiskey for confidence when playing truth or dare on Christmas break-"

"Oh no" Y/N facepalmed in embarrassment at the memory as her cheeks turned red. "-so she'd dare me to kiss her!" Remus groaned, knowing where the story ended. The room fell silent, Sirius and Y/N looking daringly at each other. The girl mouthed something, and he shook his head no, continuing with his story after his girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully.

"So, we are all sitting in the common room, merely cheery as miss Y/N is fully drunk from too many confidence shots and it's her turn to dare me... Mum, any guesses on what happened?" Sirius quizzed the woman on his right and she tried hard to guess.

"Your first kiss!" she exclaimed, eager to hear the end of the story as she and her husband remained ignorant of the situation when all the others knew it by heart. "No..." Sirius grinned as James made a buzzing sound like the one of the alarm on that shitty game show he watched with his fiancé. Batting his eyelashes at Y/N, her boyfriend graciously requested "Care to finish the story, babe?".

Theatrical silence fell into the room, broken by a giggle when the secret glance the couple shared (only Euphemia could perceive) became too much for the girl. "I chickened out and made Remus and Siri kiss...". James bursted out in laughter along with his father. His mom gasped and snickered as Remus smirked with Sirius grinning in satisfaction with his arms crossed around his chest, leaning back on his chair.

"I mean, there was a first kiss, right?" Y/N laughed, looking at her boyfriend. "You'd make a lovely couple, guys!" Fleamont said jokingly, and Moony gagged at the mere thought of dating his brother-in-law. "Oh come on Moons! Even mum agrees. Maybe you'll get lucky enough to be with the handsomer brother in the next life... Y/N/N won in this one" Y/N loved couldn't stand his audacity and delivered a well-deserved smack on the back of his head that had everyone laughing. "Kiss it better" Sirius demanded, leaning in as she pecked his head.

The moment came for everyone to move on to independent conversations, too invested in varied topics. "Mum, you're staring" James smiled, unbeknownst to the couple in question who were now gossiping amongst themselves about anything and everything. "They're perfect for each other, Jamie... He looks at her with adoration and so does she. I'm glad they found each other just like you did with Lils" she nodded, an honest smile adorning her cheeks.

The rest of the evening was spent in laughter, wine and enjoyable conversations, and, as Sirius stared over at the people he held most dear in the universe, he found his heart was full. For many years, this is what he'd wish for every night; a family. Back at the place those people dared to call home, the boy felt misplaced. Lost, like a coin someone dropped behind the couch and is never to be found. He had a family now, and he hoped he'd be able to keep it perpetually.

Around eleven; Remus left, the boys were smoking a cigarette outside, Lily was sleeping on the couch since she had been oddly tired in the past few days and Y/N along with Euphemia were washing the dishes.

"You look happy" the older woman said, passing her another wet dish Y/N dried with a red washcloth. "I am. I'm wearing the smile he gives me" she nodded and Euphemia giggled. "Everyone seemed to know except you guys, growing up" "What gave it away?" Y/N flushed "Eye contact is way more intimate than words will ever be and we always try to hide our feelings but we forget our eyes can speak; you stared a bit too long to be just friends".

The water on the sink started going down the drain with a funny sound as they both wiped away "When he confessed he said he had loved me every day of every month of every year since and asked if I had a single idea of how much he wanted to grab my face and kiss my god dammed mouth. I felt like the biggest fool... and a bit sad we lost so much time" Y/N reflected at the memory of her love spitting those words like a madman.

"Oh darling, you didn't lose time! Everything happens at the time that's meant to happen... it was certainly a excruciating long one in your case, but few couples have the connection you do. You're best friends. I see the secret glances and the pure interest when the other opens their mouth, no matter what they'll talk about. He's right; you're lucky to have him, and Sirius is lucky to have you." Euphemia rambled, the dishes long forgotten.

Y/N smiled, seeing a new perspective on a matter that had been in her head since they had started dating. Time only made the connection stronger. "Thanks, mum" she mumbled as the woman pecked her forehead "You're welcome, baby".

Meanwhile, outside, two best friends and their dad were having a very serious conversation. "It's been three weeks!" Fleamont exclaimed, puffing the smoke out his lungs "I know, I know... your baby boy has been non-stop bugging me about the matter since I got it" the raven haired boy snickered, flicking his second cig down to the floor and stepping on it. "I just don't get why it's taken you so long! What? Are you afraid she's gonna say no?" James now chimed in.

Sirius took the small velvet box out of his jacket, opening it and staring at the ring as he had been for the past month. He was absolutely fucking terrified. Not of her saying no. He knew she'd say yes... hell, even if she proposed he'd say yes in this lifetime and in the next trillion ones. "I just want it to be perfect. She deserves perfect".

Sirius Black ended up proposing to Y/N Y/L/N on a Tuesday morning over coffee. They hadn't slept at all the night before, and when the sun came up with the light bleeding into their shared home, he was looking at her. That was perfect.

And she said yes.