#so this is that comic i was talking about a few weeks ago. with way too many backgrounds and effort

[gammija]

tiefling jon's first day at the Archives

[biteofcherry]

Nature’s beauty

mountain rescuer Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality. 

warnings: consensual; barebacking; breeding kink; housewife kink; light bondage; dubiously consensual taking of risky pictures; lots of filthy talk (not even dirty, just nasty filth); mention of cumplay; established relationship; Steve’s a rescuer but who will rescue us from Steve’s hotness; 

*no squirrels were harmed in the process of writing the story

“Come on. Get out of there!” You huffed, tapping your fingers against the wood of the small birdhouse installed high on the tree trunk. 

It was a birdhouse - and just this morning you saw a small, colorful bird check it out - but some sneaky, red squirrel decided to squat inside it. How did it even fit through the tiny hole, you had no idea. 

You noticed it as you returned from your little hike, seeing a flash of an orange fluffy tail as the squirrel stuffed its tiny butt through the hole. So you tried climbing the tree, not much successfully, and scare the intruder out.

It wouldn’t be a good house for a growing squirrel anyway. 

To prop yourself, you used one of the wooden crates Steve built you for the vegetable garden that you planned on starting. Since it wasn’t enough to reach the birdhouse, you stuck another crate on top of it. The construction swayed a little, but you braced yourself against the tree trunk and reached your hand up to knock on the small wooden house.

“Your nuts won’t fit in there with you!” You called, though it was doubtful the squirrel would understand you. 

The crates wobbled, but before you had a chance to stabilize yourself with both hands on the tree two strong hands gripped your hips and easily lifted you up.

“And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Steve’s steady voice calmed your initial panic. 

You melted into his embrace as he set you down on your feet on the ground and spun around to face him. Your immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, straining on your tiptoes to greet him with a kiss.

He’s been gone for nearly two days - his usual shift stretching longer due to a crisis his team had to react to in the higher parts of the mountains. 

“Steve.” You breathlessly whispered his name, smile stretching on your lips. 

So close to the way you looked and sounded when he woke you up with his mouth between your thighs. 

“You’re back.” You pecked his lips once again then grinned. “Just in time for eviction.”

“Eviction?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“A squirrel locked herself inside the birdhouse. We need to chase her away. For her own good.” You pointed up at the tree where few weeks ago Steve installed the birdhouse. 

With a shake of his head and an overly dramatic sigh, Steve went to his truck to get his backpack with the climbing gear. He put the crates away - sending you a warning glare for coming up with a dangerous idea of putting your safety on top of them - then tied a rope around the tree to have a leverage for climbing. He reached the birdhouse exceptionally quickly. 

Once he brought it down, you opened the front panel and shooed the squirrel away. It looked at you indignantly, holding a nut in its tiny paws, then scrambled away onto another tree near your house.

“I see you got into serious animal real estate business, even though you only got back home yourself.” Steve chuckled, pointing at your small backpack and the camera placed a few feet away.  

“I went to the valley to take some shots of the early crocuses.” You beamed, picking up your things. 

“But!” You kept close to Steve as you both walked up the porch and into the house. “I prepared a stew earlier and some garlic bread slices that are ready to pop into the oven.”

“Wow. You’re organized like a proper housewife.” Steve snickered, patting your ass. 

“Yeah?” You glanced at him over your shoulder, waggling your eyebrows comically. “You gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant?” 

“We can have that arranged.” Steve wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. He kicked the door shut behind you and dropped his backpack to the floor. 

“Ah-ah!” You quickly slipped away from his grasp.

You turned around with a grin, mischievous sparks lighting your eyes. You lifted the camera and clutched it protectively to your chest. 

“Gotta put the fragile goods into safety first, before you go all patriarchal on me.”

“You’ll never forgive me that vase, won’t you?” Steve hung his head in shame, but he couldn’t suppress the proud smirk on his face. 

The pretty, pink glass vase became a collateral damage when the two of you resolved a minor argument with hot, angry sex. 

Steve bent you over the table and fucked you so hard that your hands flailed helplessly around and you knocked the vase off the table. As the glass shattered all over the floor, you gushed around Steve’s cock with a scream that surely carried through the mountain range. 

“That orgasm was worth the sacrifice.” You laughed, disappearing into the bedroom. 

“But my camera is too precious to risk it!” The cottage you and Steve were living in wasn’t tiny, but small enough that your voice easily reached other parts of the house if you raised your volume a bit. 

“Duly noted!” Steve called back. 

He walked into the kitchen where the faint smell of stew lingered in the air. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to unlace his shoes, smiling to himself as he thought of you cooking and dancing around the kitchen.

You were quite messy when you cooked, even worse when you baked. But there was no hotter sight than you naked on your knees on the tiled floor, with smears of flour on your face and then his cum dribbling down your chin. 

Suddenly, provoked by your recent words, an image of you walking around the kitchen pregnant flashed through Steve’s head. 

He saw you glowing and round, cutting strawberries with a smile as he whisked the batter for pancakes. You’d snack on the strawberries, claiming to be hungry and impatient to wait for breakfast. He’d take the fruit from you with a laugh, lick the sticky juice off your fingers. Then go on his knees to pleasure you until you can’t stand upright anymore.

He imagined you bent over the sink, hands in soapy water from washing dishes, as he fucked you slowly from behind - unable to keep his hands away from your pregnant belly, needing to take you as soon as he comes home from his shift. 

He easily pictured you carrying a toddler on your hip, bouncing the kid lightly as you walk barefoot around the house, the swell of your belly growing with another baby. 

You’d take the kids to the meadows, play with them and take stunning photographs of the nature and of the kids exploring its beauty. You’d chase away squirrels and tend to your vegetable garden - happiness radiating off your faces. You’d cook meals and try new baking recipes, and you all would eat together. 

And later in the evening, when he puts the oldest kid to bed and you nurse the newborn baby to sleep, he’d take you again. 

Fill you full through your needy cries, letting the nature take its course with your body as well.

Steve was so deep in this unexpected rush of craving he didn’t hear your soft footsteps at first. Only when you called his name upon entering the kitchen did he look up.

There you were - feet bare on the floor, your pants replaced with soft, cotton pajama shorts, and in his t-shirt which you liked to wear around the house. 

All that was missing from the fantasy was your pregnant belly stretching the fabric of the tee.

Steve crooked a finger at you, wordlessly calling you over. 

You noticed the heat in his gaze, how wider his pupils got and that his lips were slightly parted on a quickened breath. It was a look signaling some mindblowing pleasure coming your way, though you weren’t exactly sure what caused it at the moment. 

You walked over, straddling Steve’s lap and placing your hands on his shoulders. His palms spread over your ass, fingers kneading your flesh and forcing you to rock against him.

Against his undoubtedly growing, impressive erection. 

“I feel that you’re really happy to see me.” You grinned at Steve, but couldn’t help yourself from rubbing against him.

“Always.” Steve muttered and kissed you. 

His lips were soft, but the way he used them was anything but gentle. He took possession of your mouth, tongue slipping between your parted lips to tease a moan out of your throat. 

Your fingers weaved into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp and causing Steve to purr. 

He gave your asscheek a smack. Not exactly painful, but firm enough to elicit a squeak out of you and have you buck against him. 

“I want to fuck you bare.” Steve growled, hips pushing up into you. 

“Wha-” your mouth was still chasing his lips, your mind not yet fully catching up with his request. 

Steve gave your ass another slap and tilted his head back, so your gaze focused on his eyes and what he was saying.

“I want to fuck you bare.” He repeated, his voice low and raspy with dark need. 

“I want to fill you up and breed you.” 

You shivered at his words. Your nipples tightened into hard peaks and your clit throbbed. 

“You’re serious.” Your voice came out breathless, your throat suddenly dry.

Steve and you talked about having kids before, but it was all vague; nothing beyond agreeing that you wanted to build a family together, sometime. In the far future. 

Since it was a unspecified future and your health didn’t allow for you to take pills or hormonal shots, Steve always had a strip of condoms at hand. Even in the spur of the moment quickies on your hikes, he always sheathed himself. You never took him bare.

Never felt him fill your pussy with his cum. 

“What’s that thought, sweetheart?” Steve leaned forward and nipped your bottom lip when you let out an involuntary moan at the thought of being full of him. 

“We’ve never done it bare.” You rubbed your heated core over his clothed cock. “I only had your cum in my mouth, or on my body.”

Corner of Steve’s mouth tilted in a smirk. He slid one of his hands to grip the back of your neck as he licked a wide stripe from your throat over your chin and up to your lips.

“I promise to still let you play with my cum from time to time, doll.” He kissed you again.

With your big eyes full of wonder, you always liked him to paint your body with white streaks of his spent. You stuck your little tongue out, swallowed him greedily, and scooped up every drop from your skin. 

“But from now on, we’ll mostly fill your sweet cunt with it.” 

You felt his dick twitch beneath you as he said those words. You felt your own panties and shorts dampen with your growing slick. 

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve nudged the tip of your nose with his affectionately. “Want to get pregnant?”

“Pregnant and barefoot?” You huffed a breathy laugh, realizing it was your own words from earlier today that spurred Steve’s desire.

“Well, some days are really cold out here, so I think we can skip the barefoot part.” He smiled against your lips. “But we’re definitely doing the pregnant part.”

You were constantly grinding against him, your breasts pressed and rubbed against Steve’s chest. Growing heat consumed you and you wanted, needed, Steve to sate the fire he ignited. You felt as if your body wouldn’t calm down until he spilled inside you, like he promised.

“Yes!” You captured Steve’s mouth, clinging to him even closer. 

“Yes, Steve!” You head fell back as he kissed and bit down your throat. “Fuck a baby into me!” 

In rushed moves, surprisingly efficient considering how both of you were trembling with impatience, you undid Steve’s pants and took him into your hand. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side. 

You both moaned as you slid down his cock. The feel of his hot flesh without the latex cover made your toes curl. 

It was quick and brutal, really; your thighs burned as you bounced up and down on his length. A tearing sound, as Steve yanked on your t-shirt, didn’t falter your pace. 

Your climax came as dizzying, filling the house with your scream and Steve’s loud groan following soon after. 

Nothing but the pounding of your hearts and heavy breathing, as you sat tangled and spent. A little mewl of surprise bubbled on your lips when you felt Steve’s cock twitching and spurting more of hot come inside your fluttering walls. 

It was hotter and wetter than how it felt ever before; and the thought of Steve’s cum filling up through your cervix made your pussy clench around him. 

When you slid off him a while later, a thick dollop of cum dribbled out of you. Steve put your panties back in place, cotton quickly filling and staining with the mixture of juices. 

“That won’t do.” Steve frowned, as he pulled the waistband of your panties and glanced at the mess between your swollen folds. 

“You’re dripping it all over and it has to take.” 

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant - your brain fuzzy from the aftershocks and bliss - Steve picked you up. 

He carried you to the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed. He got his t-shirt over his head in a split of a second, then moved your pliant body around, getting rid of all of your clothes as well. 

“Stay here.” He pointed at you and walked out of the bedroom.

You did enjoy the view of his naked ass moving. As well the way muscles in his back flexed. 

When Steve returned, he had three climbing ropes in his hands.

“What are you planning mister rescuer?” You arched a brow. 

He merely winked at you, joining you on the bed and straddling you. He weaved the blue cord around your wrists, binding them to the headboard. One of the red ropes tied around your left ankle; the other around the right. 

You expected Steve to tie your legs to the foot of the bed, but instead he bent your legs at the knees and pushed them up toward your chest and slightly to the sides. The ends of the rope he tied to the headboard as well. 

Once he was done, your breath was quickened again, as your vulnerable exposed position registered. 

“Now,” Steve knelt back and ran a finger up your ass, “all my cum will stay nicely snug in your pussy.”

He scooped whatever dribbled out of you and pushed it back into your quivering cunt. He was right. In this improvised bondage version of a mating press, your hips were tilted up enough for the gravity to work in favor of impregnation. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve looked at you, love and desire shining in his eyes.

From your gorgeous face, hair sticking to your sweaty skin; your breasts shaking with each breath and your lovely legs strained and bound; to your gorgeous ass and glistening, swollen folds. 

A thick trickle of his cum lingered just below your leaking hole. He moved his hand slowly up your ass, reaching up to push that one drop back inside you.

“I wish I could preserve this image forever.” He murmured.

Then paused. 

Slowly, Steve’s gaze shifted from your pussy to your face. His eyes darkened and a naughty, evil really, smirk curved his mouth. 

“What are you thinking, Steve?” You asked warily, partly scared of his wicked idea and partly excited. 

Steve got off the bed, but returned rather quickly. 

With your camera in his hands. 

“You can’t be serious.” You squeaked, squirming against your bonds. But they were fucking secured top notch, you were unable to even pull your legs closer together.

“Why not?” Fingers of his left hand returned to your heated skin while he held the camera in his right hand. “You take photographs of nature. What’s more natural than this?”

He traced one of your swollen folds and pulled it slightly to the side, exposing your hole and the white cream filling it.

A shutter clicked. First photo of your pussy saved on the memory card. 

Steve took a few more photos, from different angles. Some close-ups of his cum, some a wider perspective including your stretched body visible between your spread legs. 

He moved closer, kneeling up and positioning his hardened cock between your sopping folds. 

He moaned as he watched his dick slide back and forth; looked up at your face and held your gaze when you whimpered as the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit repeatedly. 

“What’s more natural than a pretty cunt serving its purpose?” Steve rasped out, guiding the tip into your opening. 

He angled the camera again, snapping a picture of your pussy opening up for him. Then a series of photos as he slowly pushed inside. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re taking me so good.” Steve bit down on his lip as he thrust deeper. “Such a fucking beautiful sight.” 

He flipped the camera function to video, recording as he buried himself in your wet cunt. Your wrecked moan at the stretch, too. And the squelching sound of a filled pussy. 

Steve’s free hand rested on your mound, thumb drawing the hood over your clit up and then resting on the hardened nub. Your hips bucked when he started rubbing. 

He tilted the camera up, making sure to register all of your body before focusing on your face. You whined his name aloud.

When you noticed the camera pointed at you, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side embarrassed. 

“Don’t be shy on me, sweetheart.” Steve cooed, maintaining a steady pace. “You’re stunning. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. And your pretty, little pussy-”

He returned the lens between your spread thighs, recording every detail of his cock driving into you. 

His dick shined with your juices and remnants of his cum. Your folds were puffed and darkened, and your clit crushed under his big thumb. Your wetness smeared around, glistening on your ass and thighs, as well shimmering on the hair above Steve’s cock.

“She’s swallowing me, doll. Greedy, little pussy.” Steve growled, picking up his rhythm.

“What she’s hungry for, sweetheart? Huh?” Though his hand was shaking slightly, he managed to move the camera so it was recording your face again. 

“Tell me, what she’s hungry for?” He delivered a firm smack atop your clit that made you squeak and clench around him.

“It’s hungry for your cum!” You cried out.

You felt the heat engulf you whole, felt it almost burn the skin off your cheeks from the inside.

Steve always had a penchant for dirty talk, but it wasn’t always as nasty. Just a few lines here and there. Something about fucking you bare, trying to knock you up, made him wilder. And he forced you to interact along with him.

“Wants to be filled?” Steve’s raspy voice prompted again, another slap stinging your clit. 

“It wants to be filled so bad!” Your need overcame the embarrassment.

With your eyes still closed, you babbled all the filth you were shy to admit, but everything you knew Steve wanted to hear.

“Wants you to fuck it hard and come inside. Please, Steve. Need you- Need you to make me take it! Fill my belly and make it swell!” 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Steve nearly came at the sputter of your dirty words. “My sweet, fucking, dirty girl.”

He put the camera down on the side of the bed. He didn’t bother to switch it off. 

It recorded a slightly blurred angle of Steve’s hips driving into you, his balls slapping against your butt as he leaned fully on top of you and bottomed out.

It recorded the sounds of your bodies - wet squelching, skin slapping, Steve’s heavy groans and your high pitched cries; and filthy demands.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Steve stretched himself over you and propped his weight on his forearms on both sides of your head.

“I am! I am, I’m so close, Steve!”

Your body wanted to move along with his, to rock up into him and touch him, but your tied limbs prevented you from doing so. You could only lay there and take whatever Steve gave you. However he gave it.

“I’ll get you there, I promise.” He nipped along your jaw, lavishing each sting with a lick of his tongue. “First, though-” he paused to kiss you fully.

A surprisingly thorough kiss, considering how frantically his hips were pumping you.

Steve’s voice turned into a low, gravelly growl.

“Tell me your purpose, my sweet fuck doll.”

So close to the edge that your toes were curling, you weren’t resilient enough to fight for more dignity. You knew what hot, humiliating words Steve fished for.

And you knew you could scream them out, because once he untied you and you left the bedroom, Steve would respect you like he always did. He would worship the ground you walk on and cherish you. Give you the stars, if he could.

“My p-purpose-” your voice choked on a moan as Steve angled his hips, driving his cock into that spongy, oversensitive spot inside you.

With a whine you dropped your gaze down, unable to look right into Steve’s eyes as you cried out the words.

“To be bred! Fuuuuck. To be bred and have your babies! Be y-your, ah, little housewife. To serve you, serv- Fuck! Steve!”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Steve groaned, leaning his forehead against yours.

He slowed his pace, but each snap of his hips drove his cock into you deep and rough. Skilled, coarse fingers maneuvered between your bodies, finding your clit.

A few strokes over your nub combined with the incessant pounding into your sweet spot were enough to push you over the edge.

You clenched your hands around the ropes that tied your wrists to the headboard as you shattered. Steve’s choked, low moans lost in the sound of your keening, as he came right after you.

Steve dragged his lips across your cheek toward your lips. Kissed you slowly, and wet. Your ragged breaths mingled, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths and popping.

He remained buried inside you, his cock twitching and spurting more cum into your clenching channel.

“I fucking love you.” Steve breathed heavily, a huff of chuckle at the end of his confession.

“Mhmm. I love you, too.” You opened your eyes halfway. “You perv.”

You both laughed, a quiet, intimate sound between lovers that knew each other to the tiniest bone.

With a displeased groan, Steve pushed himself up. He was careful as he sat back, not wanting to slip out of your pussy too quickly.

His gaze focused on your joined bodies as he withdrew inch by inch. His cock glistened with thick cream; your walls fluttered at the friction. He admired your open hole for a moment then squeezed your puffed folds between his fingers.

“Gotta keep it in, sweetheart.” Steve tugged on your folds lightly, keeping them pinched between his fingers.

“I could make you come again. Help your pussy swallow more of it into your womb.” His eyes, still hazy with desire, drifted back to your face.

You groaned. Your cunt clenched at the mere idea of another orgasm shattering your body.

“How about we leave it as it is for now?” You wiggled your butt as much as you could in your restraints. “You can do more nasty things to me in the upcoming days.”

Because you knew if you allowed Steve to make you come again now, he’d use his mouth. And if he used his mouth, he would switch into the overstimulation mindset - he always did that when he went down on you.

You were plenty ruined today without that.

“As you wish.” Steve sighed, with exaggerated disappointment.

“But I’m keeping your legs tied up for a bit longer.” He announced, releasing your folds and patting them less than gently.

You squeaked and glared at him, but it only made him grin.

“Better untie my hands.” You said, making a comically frowny face. “So I can call for the mountain rescuing service to save me from a brutal bear’s captivity.”

Steve laughed and plopped down on his ass, then stretched himself on the bed crosswise. He reached for the camera and finally turned recording off.

He did switch to a browsing mode, though.

“Stop working yourself up again!” You reprimanded him when you realized why Steve moaned suddenly. “Untie me and bring me food.”

“Isn’t it your purpose to serve me food, little housewife?” Steve propped himself on his elbows and looked at you with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t do that while I’m bound.” You smiled sweetly.

Steve moved up and leaned over you, untying the ropes around your hands in two swift moves. He rubbed the skin on your wrists then placed a soft kiss on each.

“Hmm, brutal bear has to think of ways to keep you full and still able to do your housewife duties.” He winked at you.

“Yes, yes, can you think of that while we’re eating?” You rolled your eyes.

As on cue, your stomach rumbled.

“You stew here.” Steve moved down your body and kissed your abdomen, then hopped off the bed. “I’ll reheat everything. Want some wine, too?”

Slipping his pants back on, Steve left the bedroom. And you inside it.

With your legs still up and spread, your hips tilted up and cum brewing in your cunt.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You yelled after him.

His response was an impudent snicker.

[thebibliosphere]

In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.

Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."

Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."

And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.

Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.

My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.

And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"

And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.

Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.

I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.

The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:

ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.

(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)

And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."

And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Curiously enough, it was quite easy to get into the villain's lair.

On their way in, the hero had made sure to dress as their civilian persona - simply, to avoid as much attention as possible. Additionally, (they weren't proud of this) they had asked some of their colleagues to stage a bank robbery, with their best friend even wearing their suit.

It was a necessary measure, even though the hero felt horrible. Everyone included was just acting; heroes and civilians alike knew that it wasn't real. So, they hoped no one was actually getting hurt by accident.

Once the hero was in the villain's lair, they followed the dark hallways and hoped they wouldn't end up being cut into pieces by hidden lasers. They looked behind themselves every now and then to make sure they were alone but their paranoia was unfounded.

It was just them.

Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a giant metallic door and prepared themselves to somehow break through it. However, it opened immediately, without them having to lift a finger. They hurried through the door and found themselves in a giant hall with several workingspaces - one looked like a lab filled with several ongoing experiments, one was clearly for machine construction and the last one, full with monitors and here, the hero found them.

They were watching the live footage of the "bank robbery," but they didn't seem to be invested.

"...hey," the hero said. They couldn't believe their voice was shaking.

The villain turned around in their chair and looked at them, brows furrowing.

"That's quite a bit of trouble you went through to see me," the villain said. They stood up but the hero's eyes were still on the screen, following their friend's moves. It wasn't until the villain came to a stop right in front of them that they looked up at them.

"Oh, yeah. I...I really needed to speak with you in private. Thanks for letting me in." It would have never been easy to get into this place if the villain hadn't observed them the entire time. The villain gave them a once-over and it was almost comical how the both of them looked like two normal people.

Both in jogpants.

As if there was anything normal about this relationship.

"My pleasure." The villain stared at them, their gaze boring into the hero with curiosity. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah, sorry. I..." God, the hero didn't know where to begin. It was so embarrassing, so stupid that they were here. They supposed it was a mistake to bother the villain with something this trivial, this unnecessary. "I...fuck."

The hero let their gaze wander to the ceiling, desperate for the uprising tears not to drop.

"Hey, easy," the villain said. Their voice was gentle and the hero felt - even though they shouldn't have - so incredibly save in here. Wasn't that stupid, too? That the hero felt save with the villain?

"This is so stupid," the hero whispered under their breath. They hadn't expected to get this emotional. They usually never did when they talked about it. They closed their eyes and pressed their palm into their eye socket, taking in a deep breath. "I kinda need your help with something."

They took out their phone and showed the villain the picture.

"This person is stalking me," they said. Their voice was thin. They swallowed. "It's creepy. It's weird. They somehow got a job within the agency last week and it's been getting worse. A month ago, I saved them from, I don't know, something and ever since they have tried to get closer to me. Now, they know my identity, where I live, my friends, my pet, they know stuff from my past and they follow me around, they take pictures of me, I can't-"

The villain's gaze on the picture hardened.

"I can't get rid of them. I can't really defend myself. If the public finds out that I was rude or even aggressive towards a fan..."

"Do you want me to kill them for you?" the villain asked and the hero blinked a few times.

It dawned on them that they didn't really know why they were here in the first place. Sure, they wanted this problem of theirs to be gone, but they didn't know if they wanted this person to be eliminated.

"I don't know, I...I just can't do this anymore. I have talked to the agency and they told me they can't do anything without evidence. And I can't kill them, I can't...I'm just so tired of it. I am scared they will leak my identity or my address. Or they will take pictures of me when I am not careful enough. I've never felt this powerless in my entire life."

"This charade-" the villain pointed at the footage of the hero's friend with their thumb "-is to distract them, I presume?"

"Yeah, I've asked my friends and they are willing to help me, but they can't do anything either. I don't want them to get into trouble."

The villain was quiet for a moment. They stared at the screen where the hero's friend announced heroically that the danger was over.

"I understand if you don't want to get involved. Or if this is too much trouble for you. I don't expect anything," the hero clarified. "But if you have an idea or a suggestion on how I could deal with this, I'd be more than grateful."

"They think the both of you are friends, right?"

"Something along those lines," the hero said. It was actually more than that but they didn't want the villain to know about the repulsive flirting. The hero took a step towards them and reached for the villain's forearm.

Something to hold onto. Something to stabilize them.

"I'm...I am sorry," they said. They looked at the ground, embarrassed, and turned towards the door. "I shouldn't have come here."

The villain grabbed their hip.

"If you truly think I will let you walk back out there after everything you've just told me..." Their eyes were boring through the hero, demanding attention. "...if you truly believe I will let you be exposed to such abhorrence, you're truly dumber than I ever anticipated."

The hero stared at them, eyes wide.

"I...I can't ask you to kill someone for me. It's not right, it's not, it's-" The hero swallowed. They truly didn't want to cry in front of the villain. "What kind of hero does that make me? Some fucked up hero who asks their nemesis to kill people they don't like?"

"Do I look like I need to kill someone to get my point across?" the villain asked. They smiled gently. "Let me take care of it. You can stay here if you want to. For as long as you want to. I'll pick up your cat. I can get some stuff from your place."

"Don't you think that's pathetic?" the hero asked. "That I can't deal with this? I mean, I'm supposed to be one of the most powerful people in the city and sometimes I feel like I can barely breathe when I see this person."

The villain made a grimace, almost as if the hero had just asked them a question that deserved a slap.

"You tend to forget that you're human. Power doesn't replace fear. Most people think it does. But power only fuels anger. Or in your case..." The villain had never looked softer. "...kindness."

Silence.

"I believe it takes great courage to ask for help. And you being here means it's really bad," the villain said. They touched the hero's cheek, careful not to make any quick moves. "I won't kill them because it's your wish. But I will take care of this."

It was decided, then.

[biahouse]

Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader

You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it

There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.

Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.

Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.

Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.

Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.

Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.

He just doesn't like you.

1

The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.

But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.

It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.

"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.

"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.

"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."

"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"

"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"

"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.

Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.

For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.

2

The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.

However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.

"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.

"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.

"No"

"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"

"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.

"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"

"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."

Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.

Who was that man?

Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.

But he did, for you.

Only for you.

3

The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.

House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.

The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.

Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.

"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.

"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".

"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"

"All week?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.

"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"

"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."

"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.

"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."

"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"

"As long as you don't make me pay."

Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.

Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.

He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.

+1

“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.

"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.

"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."

"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."

"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."

"Godfather?" Y/n asked.

"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

[ohcorny]

so! it's been a year since i put never satisfied on hiatus, and 9 years since i started posting it, and rather than make you read everything if all you want to know is "when's it coming back?" the answer is still: don't know! but the answer has also shifted closer to "it isn't" the longer i've spent on break, and i think it's worth being up front about that.

i talked about it a little here a few weeks ago, but the long and short of it is that between taking on better paying work, writing better stories, and looking back at what i'd already done for never satisfied... i just don't think i want to continue it? the year off has been incredibly good for my mental health, and i can't see myself wanting to go back after the two-three years still ahead of me on my current project. that's not to say i never want to return to the characters or the concept, but if i did, i imagine it would be with something completely new, in a different form. after all, i started this comic when i was 21 years old, a lesbian, and a sophomore in college. i am now just shy of 30, a bi man, and overall a completely different person than i was, back when i was writing without a plan and putting all of my insecurities into the comic--insecurities i don't identify with anymore. lord i'm closer to rothart's age than i am to lucy's. hate that

anyway. you have all been extraordinarily kind for following never satisfied for as long as you have, for supporting it as much as you have, and being as patient as you have. whatever form never satisfied takes in the future (god willing, with a more cohesive story structure and A PLAN FOR THE ENDING, WHICH BY THE WAY I NEVER, EVER HAD) i hope to see you there!

in the meantime, as an update on where i'm at with the thing that made me stop working on NS: i finished it! all the pages for Hunger's Bite (if you remember it with a different title: no you don't) have been turned in and now it's just revisions and covers and then........ waiting a year until it can come out. because that's how it is in traditionally published graphic novels! nothing releases for a full year after you finished it! and you're even getting it earlier than was originally planned, because i'm a creature and finished it like three months ahead of schedule. i've also already started thumbnailing the sequel book which i can't talk about whatsoever and will now be working on that for the next two years and then HOPEFULLY the first book will have done well enough that i can sell a third! so you better buy it when it comes out next february!!!!!!

to ease you all into it, i wanted to do a little crossover to introduce the main characters. we have emery, whose design is fully and unintentionally just Seiji Again down to his color palette (but seiji would bully him if they met. like so hard. he's a wimp). then we have neeta, a girl who dreams of travel and cares deeply about worker's rights, and wick, a vampire agent investigating the mysterious and sinister new owner of the 1910s ocean liner emery and neeta call home. he's also gay. but sorry lucy, you aren't his type. you're not mean enough.

the best place to keep up with me these days is probably here, as this first book gets closer to release, i will probably be posting about it a lot. and i will certainly post about it here when there's an official release date and cover reveal! i hope you'll go read it. i really think if you liked never satisfied and its themes, you'll like hunger's bite!

thank you again for reading!!

[yandere-kokeshi]

yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost

— His Prey

Pairing: yandere childhood friend Simon x gn reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight spoilers for the comics; if you haven’t read it yet, I’d highly recommend reading it - stalking, implied family abuse, kidnapping(?), mentions of alcohol, hinting that the reader is slightly older, and smut.

Smut tags: dubcon, public sex(?), size kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it!!), messy aftercare(?), and kidnapping?

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. This took so long and this is probably my favorite one. But I may take a break from smut, idk 🤷‍♂️

GIF IS NOT MINE || BELONGS TO @/sgt-gaz

You had been missing for years. Decades that seemed to last for millions for Ghost. As a kid, he’d imagine marriage and having kids - something that every kid admires at least once. 

It’s true, he did love you, you always took care of him and helped clean him up after every time he had himself a fuck up. Be it romance problems, money problems, or even family problems. You always struck out your head for him. So, why wouldn’t he look for you?

Your family gave up on you, for reasons that are now beyond him. For reasons that disgusted and angered him. 

On his fair share, he could understand what you had gone through. His family was also a mess, specifically his father - always screaming at anyone, especially at you whenever you came to visit. It was a mess. Just like he was and still is. 

But, when he got the news that you ran away; your loyal image distorted and tainted by your family’s grief and anger.

He was angry. He remembers jumping over fences, ignoring the pouring rain, and running to your home - not believing the words of his father, but when he knocked frantically, your drunken father answering with slurring words and the smell of cigarettes strong, he knew you had left.

Asking where you had gone, all your father did was shrug his shoulders. Talking down to you as a ‘pent-up bitch who deserved to leave’.

Those few nights in jail weren’t fun. He can still feel the blood on his knuckles. The bruises cracked his skin and made them bleed. To Simon, he was a lucky bastard to even still breathe. 

It hurts to be left behind, but Simon soon understood. For your own safety and happiness, you had to escape. He knew in his heart and soul that he’d find you again sooner or later. 

And when he did, he’d feel your hands hug him tightly. Hear that pretty voice of yours that was addicting to listen to, even if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Those times in your garage, listening to heavy rock and dancing to the embarrassing beats as you pulled him into a messy kiss. 

Those memories were precious to him. 

You two went your own ways. But now… he grasps the nice times he had with you. Comforting and safe times with you. The ones where he could run to your home - knocking on your window at midnight, covered in sweat from how fast he ran. Your embrace was the best for him.

Tightening his hold on the film in his hands, the one where you two are hugging from his graduation, days before you had left. He sighed; inhaling through his tight teeth, he jumped out of his truck and started walking towards the diner he knew so much about. 

You are his mission, for now, and until he dies. 

Ghost had gathered enough information about your cold trail to find you. Found a friendly woman on the way, one that was quite nice and oblivious to the dangers - a nice and gentle lady who had offered to give him the location where she had last seen you a few weeks ago. 

A sad but comforting word of, love goes a long way. I hope you find them. 

Thudding his worn boots against the pavement, he admired the morbidly dead-beat town; a few people passing by him, eyes staring at him as if he was an alien. But, what was weirder was that no kids were running around - no music or loud beeping of cars could be heard. 

Only the occasional noises of crickets and wind blowing against the covering of his hoodie. It was uncomfortable. 

Approaching the recognizable diner, the lights were flickering. The run-down neon lights of spotted letters buzzed ever so slightly, the humming could be easily mistaken as a wasp nest. The letters were barely hanging on, only having support from the strings above the window; swinging left to right as if it was a lullaby.  

The D and R had shut down completely, making the rest of entire letters seem bigger, a series of flickering flashes that made it as though threatening. 

But threatening didn‘t scare him. Not anymore at least. It was something he was used to it.

Coming inside, the loud but nostalgic ding! Was nice to hear. His eyes follow the insides of the booth, looking at the familiar retro commercials playing on the TVs and people munching on the greasy food, chugging cheap beer down their throats, and jazzed music playing in the background. 

The heavy smell of oily french fries and vanilla milkshakes burned into his nose. A familiar chase of reminiscent, made him shut his eyes as he sighed, stupidly.

What if you weren’t here? What if… all of this was a dream and he was still a beat-up kid? It was something he didn’t wanna think about, but with everything that’s happened - his family, his home, his mind a fucked up place; everything was possible.

Taking a deep but swift sigh, he reopened them, revealing a familiar face on the opposite side of the counter. It didn’t even take a second for him to know who it was. 

It’s you. Look at you…

Walking about, doing your job as you unknowingly noticed the man in a giant hoodie. He watched you walk from table to table - seeing your little notepad and the recognizable clicky pen you’ve somehow kept. The black and orange lines on it have yet faded. Didn’t he give you that in high school? 

You’ve… grown. Still cute as a darlin’. Addicting as ever. 

He saw you smile at your coworker - their voice going into the abyss of his mind. Your smile is so pretty. It still is. Your laugh too. It was way too genuine for this crappy and unsafe place; a place you shouldn’t even call home.

It gave him the chills. The way your voice was nothing but a gift. Such a gentle smile and laugh. Just like in the old times.

The memories hit him like a train. The photos and slow moments of spending most of the summer with you, running away from old men who were yelling at you for stealing candies at 7/11 - you were facetious and flirty, somehow always grabbing his hands, pulling him along to your mischievous plans. Then, it was fun. 

After all, in his mind, you were still the gorgeous partner he so loved. A love grew into need. A need that turned into years of searching and trying to find you again. 

But looking at you now, Ghost betted a few hundred bucks - that you’d look really nice with his tattooed arm around your throat - those lips promising to be good and treat him well. 

You always tasted amazing. Even whilst sweating or crying. 

Tonight, you were exactly what he was looking for: his soulmate. Sure, he didn’t believe in that kind of stuff, but he knew you were meant for him. You were everything he could ask for. 

Besides, with that adorable smile of yours, you were practically begging to be manhandled and thrust up against the brick walls behind the diner. For now, all he had to do was wait till you were off. And again, you were his mission after all. And he takes them very seriously. 

“Night, Rebecca!” You yelled, shutting the door behind you as you started walking towards your apartment. Pulling your jacket more into your figure, you cursed out loud. Jeez, did today have to be more exhausting? 

Maybe I could stop at the wine shop. It is Friday after all, you thought. As you continued to walk down the similar path to your apartment, you never noticed the large figure following right behind you. 

Though, you were always a bit naïve. Somethin’ that drew Simon in like a rope around a horse.

Suddenly, whilst you were walking, your phone slipped out of your pocket. The brutal hit of your phone screen smacking onto the concrete made you cringe. Your heart banged out of your chest as you immediately let out a wild yelp.

“Shit!” You blurted out, crouching down to pick it up. Though, as you went down, there was a rush of wind and suddenly you were hoisted by hands grabbing you by the waist. You screamed, trying to kick and hit whatever was behind you, whilst trying your best to ignore the anxiety spiraling in your chest and down your body.

The back of your head smacked against the stone of the wall. But before you could react, a hand was placed over your mouth as the stench of incense and light booze crawled into your nostrils; letting you take in the large yet dark figure in front of you which was leveled with the sight of a black hoodie and muscular arms. 

“Shh,” a gritty voice growled in your ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

Is this where you’re gonna die? Where the Fox News makes a case for your murder in cold blood?

It was then that you noticed the nature of the voice, the familiar smell of comfort waving in. Home. It smelled like home. 

Preparing yourself, you peeked up at the tall and masked man, barely reassuring yourself as the adrenaline of fright from being thrown into a dark alleyway and being held against the bricked wall was starting to sit in.

Though connecting eyes with the man, you released a gasp. Looking into those recognizable brown eyes you could remember anywhere.  

“Simon?”

It’s his eyes. Black holes. No stars. The face paint around his eyes burned into them like ash.

He could feel his heartbeat in his hands, a sudden reminder of his given name, sitting nearly forgotten at his hidden identity; whipped away with ‘Ghost’ and ‘The most Brutal Soldier’. 

Simon was no longer Simon. He was Ghost. A hulking behemoth of a man. Nothing but pumped full of adrenaline, a dexterity for killing. A cover-up from his messed up, a shit show of the past. 

“Holy shit…”

Your gaze made his heart ache. Watching how tears swelled up into them, how blown wide they were. All he wanted was to wipe those away and kiss them better. Comfort you the times you did to him when he’d come to you crying - feeling your small hands wrap around him and kiss his neck affectionately.

“I thought… your family and you–”

Your hands were shaking - fists clenching and unclenching as his hoodie near his chest. Your voice was shaking, almost like a doe-eyed deer trying to escape its predator; thriving at its very last breath as it tried to talk. But, nothing was coming out. All that was heard were hiccups and the slight pounder of cars driving by.

You sniffled, eyes flashing. The sweet look of concern on your adorable face. 

His hand went down, pulling away at his gloves before wiping your tears as more came down. Your hands, always delicate and soft, ascended to hover above his face, barely touching his skulled balaclava. He could feel his throat tighten - like a noose was secured around it. Threatening to yang the weapon if he dared to speak.

“Can… I pull it down?”

You expected a harsh no. A quiet negative answer. You could tell he was wearing it for a reason. Hiding something that he didn’t want you or anyone else to see. It squeezed your heart - uncertainty piling into your stomach. 

Though, when his fingers curled around the bottom of the balaclava - pulling up and off the mask, your throat went dry.

So much has changed since you were kids, the Simon you once knew: the soft chubbed cheek and rounded smile was now scarred. Everything on his face was bumped, unmetrical. Dry and harsh. Something you’d never expect from your Simon. 

“H-how…” You asked, reaching him to touch his warm cheek - your fingers grazing over his littered cheek of scars. He almost didn’t look like the Simon you knew years ago. His eyes and hair stayed the same. But the rest of him didn’t. The tattoos, his demeanor, the scars, the littered marks all over his body and hands that were once soft and hot to touch. Instead of being the scrawny kid he once was, he was now… big and intimidating. 

“I know. Not the proudest moment to introduce again,” He chuckled, his giant hands grabbing yours and tightening his hold. He pulled them up to his lips, taking a moment to look into your eyes before kissing your knuckles.

“I won’t let anything hurt ya’ anymore, okay?” He stated, his hand letting go of yours and wrapping them around the curves of your hips, pulling you closer towards him as he pushed his face into your hair, inhaling a sharp sigh. 

“Simon. How did you…?” You ushered out, laying your forehead on his chest as you waited for his answer.  Simon — took an agonizingly long minute to reply, his hands tightening around your hips as you wrapped your arms around his lower back, feeling more tears rolling down your face. 

“It’s a long story, doll.” He stated, digging his face deeper into your hair as you felt your stomach twist and turn into butterflies. 

You detach yourself from his chest, looking up at him as your lips quivered. “I- don’t understand Simon. How are you…?”

“How what, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, his hand going up to your chin, quickly wiping the tears that fell as he patiently waited for your answer. 

“Your father- he…”

Suddenly, Simon growled out. His grip on your hips tightened, making you grimace loudly. “Don’t. He doesn’t matter. What… happened years ago doesn’t matter right now.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shh- it’s fine. Jus’... You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He danced his fingers up your chest, making their way to your sternum. Slowly he unbuttoned your shirt, making sure to take his time as his lips attached to your neck, leaving a few marks that he intends to stay. 

“S-imon,” Your words were a little above a whisper, peppered with high-pitched gasps that seemed to be enjoyed by the man in front of you; his lips kissing your ear, jaw, and neck. Slowly making his way down to your stomach.

“I know. Me too,” He chuckled, fully unbuttoning your shirt, and pulling it off as it fell onto the floor. “Been waitin’ the right time, for you to become mine again. I promise I won’t be too mean.” 

A whine blanked your mind, feeling his hands knead at your soft skin, cupping your arse under his fingers as he dropped your pants onto the floor. “Fuck, n-not here please.” Though, Simon’s answer was a harsh one as you felt something hard poking you on your thigh.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fast then we can leave, yah’?” His chest touched yours, and with his strong hands, he gripped your thighs and hiked you up onto his hips, knocking your knees together which prompted you to wrap and tighten your legs around his waist. 

Your hands fisted his hoodie on his shoulder, “What are you—!” 

A moan was let out as you felt his fingers dip beneath your briefs, teasing your core as you cried out; feeling him hit that spot that made your knees go weak. “Oh gosh-” you gasped.

Simon drew his face closer to yours and kissed you. The taste of alcohol and tangy smoke blended in with your breath as he kissed you so sweet that you never wanted it to end - your moan being muffled as his tongue explored your cave. 

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you two hungrily fought for a truce; fighting the urge to smile as he groaned from your sly fingers. 

Finally, you two separated for air - heaving deeply as you two looked into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, you felt his fingers push up inside you in a twirling motion. You groaned and writhed beneath him, and as you did, your thigh pushed against his groin.

His harsh breath that blew onto you had goosebumps rise across your skin.

“I need you.” he rasped. 

You reached your hand down to slide your hand inside his pants to grip his erect cock. You swallow the words that wanted to come out, feeling how your fingers barely touch around the width of him. Jesus, how could anyone have this size? 

You rub your thumb over the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum and when your nails grazed his sensitive head, he shivered. By the time you had removed your fingers, bringing them up to your lips, his hands were already finishing unbuttoning his belt and undoing his zipper; freeing his cock.

He was thick, with a bulbous base. He had building veins. Some on the underlining of his cock, outlining the leaking pre-come, rolling down the length of his cock. He also had a happy trail, a sagittal one that was very attractive. 

You ached to feel him inside you, but when you reached down, he shook his head. “Let me taste ya’ first.”

Taking a minute, you nodded, and he took your hips in both of his giant hands; adjusting your position up onto his shoulders, letting your legs hang off them. He then lowered his mouth to your body, kissing and nipping down to your V-line, then worked his tongue and teeth to pull down your undergarment as he came to the sensitive skin where your thigh met your pelvis. 

He kissed you there sweetly, breathing in your tainted-sweat skin and scent. Infuriatingly ignoring where you wanted to be touched most. 

He groans out your name. Spilling it out like a love spell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to work his tongue over and around you. Circling, sucking, caressing. Taking in your taste like a wolf with its mate.

At first, Simon only kept his left hand on your thigh, watching you unravel from his mouth — bucking upwards into his mouth, seeing you moan out as he growled against you, sending vibrations to your core. His nails dug deeply into your thighs, adding a counterpoint to the intense sensations of his tongue and lips as he made sure you whined out.

It took you a pretty short time before he brought you breathless, pushing you over to the edge with his tongue and hands. The rough fingers of his, the depth of penetration of his tongue, and the wet noises made you go boneless. 

Yet, he still didn’t move the heat of his mouth from your hole while you came, admiring how your body clung to the concrete wall and his head for support as your shouts echoed throughout the alleyway. He cleaned you more with his tongue — relishing the taste of you.

“Fucking hell.” he grunts.

He departed himself from the mess he had caused - giving you a quick peck before he hiked you back onto his hips, moving your legs around his lower back as he lowered his slick cock between your parted legs, breathing hard.

“I need you, darlin’,” He growled in your ear.

You panted, nodding slowly as your vision was barely picking up - already overstimulated from how long it has been since anyone else has made you cum quite violently. 

His breath was hot. Breathing directly down to your collarbone as he nudged the hot tip of his cock against your entrance. He’s too big, his blunt head snags against your entrance. You breathe through your nose, brow furrowing as you tighten your eyes closed. 

“Jesus Christ,” He hissed as he bucks, clearly impatient, needing more as he feels the clutch of your sex. 

“Easy.. please,” You try, feeling him draw your forehead against his, the sweaty skin rubbing against each other as you two share the love you two once shared - an act of surface, awaiting till it boils over.

“Fuck,” he mutters in your ear. 

You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. He’s so big and you’re so full, packed to the very brim as his cock drags against your sensitive walls; you feel his nose press into your cheek, his mouth sliding against your jaw as he grinds into you.

“Ss’good,” he utters quietly, “Fuck, I love ya’ so much.”

You cried out in pleasure - clenching down at his shoulders as you bit your finger. His hips and cock punching against the furthest part of your core. He releases a deep groan of pleasure at your sheer tightness.

“More!” You rasped out, grabbing his cheek and kissing him. He parted his lips and let your tongue taste his mouth. You tasted yourself - but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was Simon. Your Simon. 

He plants his feet deeper into the concrete, beginning to really fuck you. Positioning his hips and slamming up inside you until the sound of only your soaked hole swallowing him repeatedly along with slapping skin bouncing off the walls.

It’s overwhelming. The heavy smell of rain. The smell of sex and the sounds of raspy groans. Squelchy noises of your hole being brutally hit as your thighs are turning raw. It’s rasp and chafe. But you were enjoying it. Enjoying every bit of it.  

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hushed out, his hips snapping more. “Feels so good.”

He began to move deeper, harder, sharper. You clutched at his giant arms, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips cracked more. You felt his muscles tighten, a slight warning of him crashing down to his peak. 

Your toes curled. Entwining up with the sensations spreading all over your body, pounding at your sensitive ears. You could hear everything. Feel everything. Taste everything. 

He’s reclaiming you. His hips fully abusing your hips and thighs. His groans and tightened jaw were a sight to see. His eyes shut closed as his body tightened up. 

“Come for me.” he says, “I know you need to, love.” 

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Yet another pleasure crash came over you, consuming you again, and at that, with a bellow that shook to your very core, your orgasm took you by surprise with a scream.

His voice lowers down. His hips sped up even more as your toes curled and head rolled back - eyes seeing white. Your nails dug into his back. 

You felt Simon stiffen. The warmth of his spent filling you. His hips spasmed and jerked, his jaw clenching with a long groan, his eyes screwed shut as you felt hot liquid rush inside you, stuffing you full. Even as he pressed his hips tightly against yours, still grinding at the pleasure, you were a moaning mess. 

When he finished, he let out a soft sigh. Still sitting inside you, he prepped kisses all over your neck, sliding his tongue with your sweaty skin and dug his nose into it. You felt him mumble some words, but you paid no attention. 

Slowly pulling back, making sure to not overwhelm you, he let you back on the ground. Simon had his hands on your waist, ensuring you were still there - almost as if he loosened his grip, even by a grain of salt, you’d disappear. 

“That was…” You went to say something, but with dopamine and adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your brain was left blank - possibly melting. 

Simon chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead before looking you directly in the eye. “You okay?” 

You nodded, “Jus’ tired and cold.”

He nodded, adjusting his pants and getting dressed. Belting his pants back up before crouching down to grab your clothes that were thrown on the floor. Standing back up, he handed them to you.

“You should get dressed,” He said. 

“Not in the mood to stain my clothes,” You laughed, running your fingertips over your collarbone that was stained with sweat. Simon looked down between your legs, before looking behind you as you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“You need to get dressed.” He grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it off of him as he prompted you to raise your arms. Nonetheless, Simon’s smell gave you an undying amount of comfort. Shoving your arms through the sleeves, he helped you get your head through the top hole before adjusting the bottom of the fabric, making sure it covered you whole. 

And that it did. You marvel at how large the damn hoodie is, your fingertips barely peeking at the ends of the sleeves and the end of the hoodie covering most of your thighs. It was astonishing.

“Hey, where’s my—!” Before you could finish the question about your phone, you yelped - feeling yourself get picked off the ground. You were picked up by Ghost, being rested in his arms as he held you with such care. Making sure you were comfortable before resting your head on his chest. 

You could feel his heart thumping - picking a beat at the sound of drums. Like tapping your fingers at your desk as you studied a book scenario. It was comforting.  

“Why– where are we going?” You asked, looking up at him with a face of confusion as he adjusted his mask; his eyes peering down at you from the balaclava.  

“M’ taking you home.” He stated, his hands curling more around your body. 

You blinked at him, surprised. 

“Home? You don’t even know where my apartment is. How would you—?”

“—You’re gonna stay with me,” he clarifies, ducking his head as the both of you started walking away from the alleyway. Slight embarrassment rises in your cheeks as you realized you just fucked in an alleyway. Not the first time with him.

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, you replied with a quick answer, “That’s not what I meant. Where are we going?”

There was only silence after that, and you had worried that maybe you pushed too far. Possibly angered him. After calling his name twice and no answer coming forward, you decided to quit asking. 

You slid your arms around his neck, paying no attention to your surroundings. Unintentionally, you dug your face into his shoulder, taking a deep inhale before you listened to the wind; admiring how quiet it was.

Surely, you could see a smug smirk trail against Simon’s face - but you paid no attention. You were tired. Exhausted at best.

Suddenly, you heard a car; a truck gets unlocked from behind you. You were prompted to look, but when you got sight of the black Chevy truck, suddenly the door being opened by Simon and you being placed in the passenger seat beside the driver, you slumped into the seat.

You waited for him to climb in. Hearing the backdoor to your left open and shut loudly before you heard him get in. He shuffled in his seat, reaching over to buckle in his seatbelt before looking in your direction.

“Here.”

You looked at his hand, a huge white wool blanket being handed to you. You grabbed it, the fabric practically melting into your fingers. It was so soft. And smelled like him too.

You heard Simon chuckle at your reaction before starting up the truck, turning down the radio to ensure you were comfortable. He put on the heaters - readjusting the way of direction to blow so it could puff directly at you.

“Tomorrow, we’ll stop and get your stuff. From now on, you’ll stay with me.”

You nodded. Not saying anything. But when you tucked into the blanket around your form, making sure it covered your shoulders and legs, you felt his hand move over, gripping your thigh as he squeezed three times; his way of saying, ‘I love you’. 

It made you smile. Turning your sight over to look into the side mirror, you watched as your town got further away. The lights turned into small gusts of balls as you watched the road become thinner and thinner. Before turning into nothing but a small pan of memories. 

You lay there a long time, just listening to the sound of the music and the occasional blinking of the car to signal changing lanes. It was until you found yourself slipping into sleep right after a few minutes. Turned out you’d missed the contact as much as he had. It was probably for the best, that you stayed with him for a while. 

Not that he’d let you go.

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[halohalona]

Letting Go

Old memories resurface so Logan reminds you who is truly there for you.

Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: the fics I'm starting to write are getting more and more self indulgent and the situations are getting hyper-specific. Not only do I want to be with Logan, on so many different levels, he's also become such a comfort character to me (or maybe it's just hugh jackman idk). ANYWAY, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now so enjoy the short fic

masterlist

warnings/tags: more emotional hurt/comfort, Logan is probably a little or a lot ooc here, I wanna specify this is the movie logan and not the comics, betrayal? idk, I probably forgot a few details about Wolverine here

Logan noticed you've been quiet recently. Not only that but you've been avoiding him. One time when you rounded a corner of the mansion's many hallways you immediately turned back the way you came when you saw him. Did he do something wrong? Every time he tried to talk to you, you would run away.

He asked Ororo if she knew what was going on but she didn't know either. He asked Jean but she didn't know anything either, but he did find out that you've been avoiding everyone. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Hank— not just him. It even came to the point where he asked the professor himself and all he said was, “She needs her space.”

He was at the library looking for a specific textbook he needed for his next class when he heard sniffling from a secluded corner of the library— your corner. You told him once that you've pretty much claimed that part of the library for yourself since it was secluded and quiet enough that no one would bother you as you worked.

He slowly and quietly walked over. Sure enough you were there. Your laptop was in front of you, folders neatly stacked around you on the table, and your bag placed on the side facing the main library, likely to hide your face.

He sat in front of you, gently moving the folders to the side before speaking.

“Hey.” he said softly.

You jumped and quickly wiped your face but your head was still down. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you crying, of course I'm gonna go check on you. You've been avoiding me all week. Something's going on, and as your boyfriend I want to know.”

You don't say anything.

“Is this about Eve?”

Silence.

He leans back on the chair crossing his arms. “You know that was years ago right?”

Eve was a close friend of yours. You both have been friends for almost two years back in high school. She was someone who stood by you through your toughest times, and at the time there was a lot, specially since that was same point in your life your mutation decided manifest. But then you guess they got sick and tired of having to deal with what you were going through with you because one day you learned from your best friend, who was a mutual friend of yours, that she planned on cutting you off. You don't remember exactly what she said but one thing was clear to you, she no longer wanted any relationship with you, not even an acquaintance. What stuck with you was the promise she made a year prior: “If you think I'm gonna leave you, I won't,” which ended up being a lie.

It's been years, you know that it's time to move on, but every now and then it haunts you. You've been keeping people at arms length since then, not sharing much about yourself aside from the basics: name, age, and what you like to do in your free time. Although you've opened up a bit when you started dating Logan, you've share a few things about Eve, but you still hold back in fear of the whole thing to happen again.

“You have to let it go. I'm not saying this to be dismissive, I'm saying it because holding on to it will prevent you from finding people who actually care for you.” he unfolds his arms and leans on the table closer to you. “Like I've said before, if she was able to let you go so easily, then maybe she wasn't a good friend to begin with.”

He walks over to your side of the table and kneels beside you. Gently, he places his hand on the side of your face lifting it up to make you look at him.

“I know it hurts to be abandoned by someone you cared for deeply, but dwelling on what happened won't bring them back. It's time for you to focus on the people who genuinely care about you. Ororo, Jean, Hank, Scott, pretty much everyone in the mansion, and of course me.”

Your eyes start to well up again, a couple tears escape, sliding down your cheek. Logan gently brushes them away.

“I know she's told you this but when I say I won't leave you, no matter how hard things get, I mean it. I love you and I care for you, remember that.”

You look into his eyes for any sign of deceit and seeing none, he genuinely means it. So for the first time in years, you trust those words. You lean your forehead on his “I believe you. And thank you.” you whisper.

[kaliforniahigh]

my kink is karma - part. 2 - n.s.

This is the second part to "casual". The title is yet another Chappell Roan song :D

Warnings: Some self-deprecating talk, Folio plays a little bit of a matchmaker, they talk about their feelings, curse words and angst with a happy ending (I'm a sucker for happy endings).

WC: 3.367

It's comical, bridges you burn If karma's real, hope it's your turn

The tension in the air after yours and Noah's argument was palpable. You haven't talked to him since your argument, but it didn't take a genius to notice he wasn't behaving like himself lately.

You, on the other hand, was just waiting for this tour to be over. You've been treating this job exactly like what it is. A job. You kept a friendly relationship with everyone, but the outings to bars or restaurants were kept to a minimum.

Bryan sensed something was up when you asked him to show Noah the pictures you took, for him to select the ones he liked the most, instead of showing him yourself.

You kept in contact with Liam, contrary to what Noah insinuated, your interactions were strictly professional, since Liam had a long-term girlfriend that he mentioned to you the first time you talked. Showing you some pictures he took of her in an outdoor setting.

You could've told Noah this, but seeing him angry and out of his wits at the idea of you dating or seeing someone else was more entertaining for you. You guess you just wanted him to feel a little bit of what you felt when he took those girls to his hotel room.

Nick did tell you though that these past few weeks Noah hasn't even tried to flirt or take girls back to his room, and mentioned that he should check "if his friend was ok". You wondered if you were the only one who never realized Noah was a player.

You guess that doesn't matter now. Liam has called you a few days ago, since you've mentioned to him that tour was wrapping up soon, he wanted to ask if you would accept the invitation of touring with him and the band he worked for, and you were considering it.

You're familiar here, and meeting new people and getting used to a new setting was going to be challenging. But you also knew you couldn't keep going like this. You always took pride in having a great relationship with everyone, and now you felt like you were drifting further and further apart from them.

You knew they considered you their friends, but the truth is: they're Noah's friends. And you could and would never come between that.

It's hot when you have a meltdown In the front of your house and you're getting kicked out It's hot when you're drinking downtown And you're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth

Nick knew he shouldn't pry, especially not when Noah was on the verge of being too drunk. But two of his best friends were fighting and he knew neither one of them were going to come out and say anything. Besides, he knew Noah lacked a filter when he was intoxicated, so this was his best chance.

Tour was wrapping up this week, so this was the last opportunity for the band and crew to go out together. After all is over, everyone ends up going their own way and it gets difficult to organize something.

Nick was waiting for the best opportunity to talk to Noah, and at some point during the night, they found themselves alone at the table.

"So, Y/N didn't wanna come out tonight", Nick started, mentioning your name right out the gate, not wanting to waste too much time. He saw Noah's shoulder tense.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised", his friend answered, taking another sip of his alcoholic beverage.

"Do you know what could've happened? She used to go out with us all the time", Nick played dumb, not wanting to give away that he could tell you two obviously had something going on.

"I don't know man, maybe she's too busy talking to Liam or whatever", so Noah was jealous, that much he could tell. Nick knew about Liam because you've mentioned him in conversation a couple of times.

"Why would she be busy talking to Liam in the middle of the night? Besides, they're on different timezones", Nick fished for more information.

"I guess she liked the attention she was receiving", Noah said and shrugged his shoulders, trying to look unbothered by the situation, but ultimately failing.

"I see", Nick pondered. Finally, he decided to put his friend out of his misery "you know he has a girlfriend, right? I think Y/N mentioned they've been together for 7 or 8 years or something", Nick said and waited for a reaction. Noah's eyes widened visibly in surprise and he looked in Nick's direction.

"No, I didn't know that", he sounded defeated, as he let the realization sink in.

"So whatever you guys have going on, if it's because Y/N has been talking to Liam, you can cut it out, because there's nothing happening there", Nick saw Noah sigh out loud and run his hands over his face. He expected him to be relieved, but he looked exasperated?

"Noah, this is everything that happened, right?", Nick was suddently worried about his reaction.

"I might have been a dick to Y/N", Noah was looking down at his drink, stirring it uselessly.

"What do you mean?", it was Nick's turn to look and sound exasperated. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew.

"Look, Y/N and hooked up a few times, and...", he began explaining, but Nick cut him off "By hooked up you mean you've kissed, or something more?", he has an inkling feeling that this was so much more.

"I mean we've had sex a few times", he paused, but continued when Nick didn't say anything "it wasn't anything serious, but I might have lost my cool when I saw her talking to Liam at that festival", he at least looked guilty saying this.

"If it wasn't anything serious then why did you lose your cool?" Nick asked the million dollar question.

"I don't know. I think I didn't like seeing her with that guy?", Noah was having a hard time explaining himself. Nick always knew his friend wasn't good with expressing his feelings. And that worried him, because there was no telling what he could've said to you.

"And what happened after that for you guys to stop talking?", Nick was getting to the bottom of this, even if he didn't like it. And it seemed like Noah needed someone to talk to anyway. He could tell the conversation sobered up the boy quite a bit.

"I kinda confronted her about it?"

"And how did you do that?", by the looks of it, he was gonna have to pry the information out of him. He felt like a parent mediating a fight between two kids.

"I wasn't the nicest, ok? I already know that and I already feel like absolute shit about it", Nick wasn't gonna ask again, so they sat in silence until Noah conjured up the courage to say what he needed to say.

"I insinuated that Liam was only interested in her in order to get her into bed. And then I proceeded to tell her that I didn't think she would be so easy". Noah said this with venon in his voice, directed at himself. Saying it out loud again only heightend the weight of his words. And this somehow made him feel even worse.

"What the fuck, Noah? Why the fuck would you say that?", Nick said with anger in his voice.

"Have you seem this Liam guy? He's probably gone to a nice college, just like her. He probably doesn't have attachment issues. He probably doesn't need therapy to talk about his feelings. I freaked out, ok? It was clear from the beggining that Y/N and I could never work. So I decided that having a little bit of her was better than having none of her". Noah could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Letting out the thoughts in his head felt a little liberating, but it didn't make him feel better about the way he treated you.

"You don't get to decide if Y/N deserves you or not. That was her decision to make. And you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions with her and Liam", Nick knew that this was obvious, but maybe the obvious still needed to be said.

"I don't think that matters now. I don't see how I could fix this. Tour is ending and I bet she'll never want to see my face again"

"And if that happens, you at least owe her an apology", Nick patted him on the back and asked Noah if he wanted another drink, he said no, so Nick left him with his own thoughts.

Oh, God And it's coming around, yeah, it's coming around Yeah, it's coming around, oh, God Oh, God

This was one of those things you couldn't get away from. Mainly because everyone has been planning this since before the tour even started. Also because it's already been paid for, and you don't like your money going to waste.

Camping was never your favorite activity. You despised insects and couldn't understand why people left their comfy beds to sleep in tents and sleeping bags. But back then, Noah promised to make you as many roasted marshmallows as you wanted, and you pretended to say yes just because of that. As if you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to spend more time with him. Now you were cursing yourself.

You were unaware of the conversation Nick had with Noah before tour ended, and how much he knew about what transpired between you two. So you thought nothing of the conversation you were having with him, as the boys grilled some burgers for dinner.

"I kind of have something to tell you", you were nervous to make this official. "Since tour ended and everything, I don't see why hide this anymore"

Nick thought you were finally opening up to him about your adventures and fall out with Noah. He would soon find out he was very mistaken as he told you to go on.

"You know how I've been talking to Liam right?", he nodded "recently he asked me if I wanted to tour with him. To have a different experience and all that", you kicked a pebble next to your feet. Nick was looking directly at you, but you didn't have the heart to look back at him. "I've been thinking about saying yes".

"You're leaving us?", this prompted you to lift your head.

"C'mon Nick, this tour was just an experiment. I don't know for sure if you guys will want me back. I need to have something lined up for me". And that was true. You were only thinking about your next steps.

"I thought it was clear we wanted you next tour as well?", Nick genuinely sounded confused and it broke your heart. You didn't know what to say anymore. "Is this about you and Noah?", he asked and you froze the second the words left his lips.

"What do you mean?", you tried to gauge how much he knew.

"I think you know what I mean. I could tell there was something different between you two. I had to find out what it was. So I kind of cornered Noah one night and he told me", you huffed in annoyance.

"What else did he tell you? That I'm easy and fall into bed with everyone that comes asking?"

"No, but he did tell me that he basically told you that", Nick said and you were honestly surprised at this. It was very difficult for Noah to admit to his mistakes. "I'm not defending him, because I already told him what he needed to hear from me. But I think you guys should talk before we leave"

"We'll see about that", you gave him a little sideways smile, trying to be noncommittal about this.

"It doesn't matter if you're with us or working for a different band. I know you'll kill it anyways. But keep in mind that we like having you close"

"Thank you, Nick", you showed him your gratitude.

"I'll see if those goofs need any help", you looked back at the boys and saw Matt threatening Jolly with the tongs, opening and closing them, as if he was trying to get his head. You laughed at this as Nick excused himself.

Dinner went by and soon you were all sitting by the fire, attempting to tell scary stories, but everyone was laughing and calling out loop hopes in each other's tales, turning the situation from scary to funny.

You were roasting some marshmallows here and there. You were never good at this, so it either came out burnt or the thing melted entirely and fell into the fire. You gave up at some point and just sat there, with the stick in your hand, poking the floor aimelessly.

Seconds later, Nick poked you on the side, handing you a stick with two marshmallows roasted perfectly on the top. You gave him a puzzled look, but he just tilted his head to Noah, who was sat beside him. He gave you a barely there smile, and nodded in acknowledgment. The marshmallows kept coming thoughout the night without you having to ask for them. He did promise you to roast you as many as you wanted after all.

Not too long after, everyone was excusing themselves to their tents. The long drive here had everyone yawning. You were not much better, so you decided to do the same.

A soon as your head hit the pillow, thoughts swam through your mind. The conversation with Nick was supposed to be simple. You were pretty much dead set on saying yes to Liam. Now you weren't so sure anymore.

You knew you needed to talk to Noah at some point. You figured that him giving you marshmallows was his way of extending you an olive branch. He was there if you ever wanted to talk. You did miss him and what you had before everything went to shit.

Huffing and deciding that as much as you wanted, sleep wouldn't find you so easily tonight, so you opened your tent to step outside. Maybe meditating or some breathing exercises would relax you enough.

Standing on your feet and stretching your limbs, you noticed Noah still sat at the wooden bench everyone was at earlier. You debated slipping inside your tent again, but he was already looking at you. There was no turning back now.

You also debated sitting somewhere else, but didn't want to make things even more akward, so you sat on the other end of the bench. A few minutes passed by before he spoke up.

"Can't sleep?", he asked.

"No, too much on my mind", you didn't know if you were ready for this, but you had to be.

"I talked to Nick the other day", he glanced at you, but you kept a neutral expression.

"Yeah, he told me about that", your hands were picking on loose strands of your sweater.

"Listen, I'm not gonna make any excuses. I owe you an apology. You don't have to accept it, but I have to tell you how sorry I am for what I said to you", he sat sideways now, looking directly at you. "So I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I should've delt with my anger instead of taking it out on you"

"I just don't understand why you were so angry? Why Liam and I talking led you to said that", you did have an idea, but you wanted him to tell you. Noah has been going over this conversation in his head for days. He decided that it doesn't matter the outcome, he was going to be honest with you.

"I shouldn't have invited you to my hotel room that first night. I knew this was going to end like this. I thought I could get a grip on my feelings, but I was very mistaken. I was selfish and I hurt you in the process", you tried to pretend that that first part didn't hurt you, so you decided to focus on the end of his speech. You appreciated the honesty regardless of how it made you feel.

"What feelings?"

"The feelings that I have for you. I think I've had them since Bryan introduced you to us for the first time. Thinking back on it now, how could I not have feelings for you? Not only are you a great protographer, but you're also an amazing and kind girl. And I'm just the good looking guy who sings in a band", he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. You didn't like the way he talked about himself.

"I don't think you're just a good looking guy who sings in a band, you're so much more than that and it's such a shame you don't realize it", you tried to get your point across. "I know that you didn't mean what you said back in that tour bus. Mainly because I know you, and you're not a mean person. But you really need to communicate better with the people around you"

"I know. Maybe then I would've known that Liam has a girlfriend, right?", he smiled at this.

"Exactly", you smiled back. "It hurt me a lot when you kept giving attention to other girls after we slept together. I guess I just felt like another notch on your belt", you made yourself a little smaller after admitting to this, but decided to be honest with him the same way he was being with you.

"I never slept with them. Sometimes we didn't even take the elevator up to my floor because I just told them it wasn't gonna work. It just didn't feel right and my head wasn't in the right place", this did make you feel incredibly better.

"Well then, I guess I could've communicated better myself. Maybe then I would've known this, instead of wallowing in pity", this time was your turn to smile and poke a little fun at the situation.

"I gave you the wrong idea, I'm sorry about that", there was a moment of pause before he contined "I understand if nothing can happen between us now, after all of this. But it would be great if you came back for another tour, you really do an amazing job, and I don't want my behavior to jeopardize that", you sighed at this, now was the time to tell him.

"I've had an offer from another band to go on tour with them", you looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His face fell and the somewhat relaxed look he kept on his face throughout your conversation, morphed into one of resignation.

"Oh, that's great. You're gonna be amazing regardless", he tried to be supportive of your decision, but his voice gave him away.

"I'm not going", his eyebrows shot up at this. "Just being here tonight, with everyone, made me realize that I'm not ready to leave this behind. Besides, I think I'll miss you too much", he gave you the biggest smile at this and you could see a little rosy tint to his cheeks.

"I would miss you terribly", he said back. You were now sat closer together, drifting towards each other during your conversation. "Tell me if this is overstepping or if I'm too soon, but I would love to take you out on a date when we get back home. I think we started this a little backwards", you could sense the hesitantion in his voice.

"I would love to go on a date with you", you offered your hand for him to take, interlacing your fingers together, reveling in the way his totally encompassed yours.

"Thank you for giving us another chance", his voice conveyed honesty, glad you didn't decide to just kick him to the curb entirely.

"You really don't give yourself enough credit. I think I would do anything you asked me if you were nice enough", and it was true. After your argument you knew you would forgive him if he had a good enough excuse. Deep down, you were hoping that woudn't be the end for you two.

You rested your head on his shoulder, you sensed a little bit of hesitation from him, until you took one of his arms and put it over your shoulders, feeling his hand mess with the ends of your hair. You felt content and finally at ease.

Thank you everyone who requested a part 2! Hope you enjoyed this :D

[tellmyah]

I always see dbf!Abby but never dbf?reader🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️maybe? Idk

༉‧₊˚. — this is so genius??? thank you anon ily

it all starts when you notice a middle-aged man with dirty blonde hair outside of the house across the street from yours, a look of disappointment on his face. he has many potted plants, maybe too many, and over half of them are dying. you stroll over to his front yard and he wastes no time in expressing his frustration to you, a total stranger who had just moved here with your family a few weeks ago.

“i just don’t get it. i water them every single day. it’s not like they aren’t getting enough sunlight, right?”

you hum in acknowledgment, and he steps aside to allow you to take a look for yourself. it’s almost comical how quickly you notice the cause of his problem.

“it has nothing to do with the amount of sunlight or water they’re getting, actually. look at the soil of the ones that are dying.” you kneel down to feel the soil of one droopy plant in particular– a bunch of faded red petunias– and gather some soil between your fingers. “dry as a desert.”

you spend the rest of your day helping jerry replace the soil in the effected pots over some pleasant small talk, in which he confides in you that ever since his wife passed away, he’s been struggling to upkeep her impressive garden. the hard work is done by the time the sun sets, and he invites you in to wash your hands and have a glass of water.

that’s the very first time you get to meet abby.

she’s about your age, standing at nearly six feet tall. even in her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, you can tell that she’s made of pure muscle. initially, when she walks down the stairs and sees a random girl in her kitchen, having a conversation with her father about invasive plant species in seattle, she’s puzzled, but she recognizes you fairly quickly.

she remembers watching from her bedroom window while you helped your mom to drag a couch in through the front door. she remembers going outside to check the mailbox and seeing you, sitting on your porch, feet propped up on the short wooden fence with a book in your hands. she could never seem to take her eyes off of you any chance she got to see you, so, when she sees you standing in her home, she completely freezes. luckily for her, jerry rushes to introduce the two of you.

“i didn’t even know you were home, sweetie! abby, this is y/n. y/n, this is abby, my daughter.”

“hey,” she extends a hand, “i’m abby.”

you smile as you reach for her hand and shake it. “bet you can’t guess what my name is.”

abby’s nose scrunches up as she realizes her mistake, completely aware that she isn’t thinking straight. she can’t be too embarrassed, though. not with the way your eyes scan her from head to toe like a predator sizing up its prey. “cut me some slack, i haven’t had my coffee yet. anyways, why are you both covered in dirt?”

the night ends with jerry scolding abby for making coffee so late, and thanking you for all of your help before sending you home with a homemade chocolate chip muffin.

since then, jerry shows up at your door when he needs help or simply has a question about gardening, and you never hesitate to help him. he’s a respectable man who just wants to honor his wife’s memory, to keep something of hers alive even if it isn’t her.

within a few months, his garden is looking lively and vibrant and noticeably healthy. after a few more months, he’s able to do everything you’ve taught him on his own, but you still come visit a few times a week to see how it’s going.

each and every time, abby finds some excuse to talk to you. you aren’t blind to it, but you certainly aren’t opposed to it. she’ll compliment your hair, your outfit, thank you for helping her dad with something so important to him, and anything else she can say to get you to stick around longer.

it isn’t much longer until jerry invites you to a barbecue in his backyard. an hour into it, he’s standing with a few of his friends around the grill, some neighborhood kids are playing with water guns in the yard, and you can’t help but notice his daughter’s absence.

you excuse yourself to the restroom in the middle of a gossip session with a few older ladies from around the block. however, the first thing you do when you step inside is beeline up the stairs and toward abby’s room.

of course, you knock first, and hear a muffled “come in” from the other side of the door. you enter, and see abby sitting on her bed with her laptop open, clearly drowning in her college work. her messy blonde hair is in a low bun, and her body is engulfed by a sweatshirt that is at least two sizes too big for her. she glances up, notices it’s you, and immediately straightens her slouched posture. “oh. y/n, uh… hey. you look nice. like, really nice.”

“nice enough to make you come join the party?”

“not that nice. i’m dying over here.” she vaguely gestures to her laptop.

“you’re pretty for a dead girl.” you hum, walking over to sit next to her and take a look at the laptop. there’s a concoction of mathematical problems plastered on the screen from top to bottom. your eyes hurt just looking at it. “oh, abby, you poor thing. all i can do is pray for you.”

“why do i need to know what a logarithm function is? and since when is there limits to infinity? i thought the whole point of infinity is that it’s limitless.”

you decide to cut her off before she can get any more worked up than she already is. “what’s your major?”

“pathology. which, mind you, has nothing to do with logarithm functions.”

you huff out a laugh. “pathology… what’s that? something medical, right?”

“yeah, pretty much just the study of diseases.”

“that’s hot.“

abby stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. clearly, you have her full attention now. “why do you always do shit like that?”

“like what?”

“like, you know… ‘that’s hot,’ shit like that.” she says, trying her luck at a very bad impression of you. “calling me pretty. staring at me.”

“because i think you’re pretty, and i like staring at you.” you answer simply. “why? want me to stop?”

“i didn’t say that.”

you smile, eyes studying her flustered face, the pout on her parted lips and the reddening blush across her cheeks.

just as she thinks you’re finally going to make a move, you stand up from your spot on her bed and begin heading toward the door. “well, it’s always nice talking to you, abby, but i gotta get back to the party before linda thinks i abandoned her.”

“what– who’s linda?” she tilts her head.

“the lady from down the street. you know, the one with the blue eyeshadow and smoker’s cough.”

abby scoffs at the description. “oh, right. linda. do you really have to go?”

you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. “i don’t know. what would happen if i stayed?”

this questions seems to leave abby at a loss for words. is there even a right answer? she could be reading too far into this, and end up looking like a creep if she spoke her mind– but then again, she could be missing out on a golden opportunity if she doesn’t. she’s wanted you for as long as she’s known you, that’s completely true, but saying it out loud is something different.

after a long few moments of silence, you stand upright once more and reach for her doorknob. “thought so.”

with that, you shut her door and join the party downstairs once more, leaving abby alone with a million thoughts and feelings. she can’t focus on her work. she can’t focus on anything other than the way you smelled, sitting so close to her. how soft your skin looked, how she gets goosebumps just thinking about your voice.

once the party has died down and she’s done helping her dad clean up, she rushes back up to her room (and puts away all of the schoolwork she never got to), so that she can send you a simple message from her phone.

can you come over?

[dailycass-cain]

So you want to preorder the NEW Batgirl #1 coming to a comic shop near you on November 6?

Well, hopefully, this can help you attain that preorder. So you're doing your part to make sure this series lasts.

The first step is to find your local comic shop. Use a search engine for that most heavenly of place that has comics.

Or if you already know search them online (they might have an online shop), an app, call the store, or visit it in person.

Now I'm using my experience from the shops I visit in the midwestern area. So this could be different in the region you're in the US (or Canada). I have no idea on the best way to attain this book outside the country save Canada. So anyone who can answer that pls chim in here.

I mean, possibly, you could buy it on their website (or their eBay shop) and MAYBE they have international shipping. Then again, if you have a US friend maybe they can do this all for you?

Preorders will begin next month. If you go in person you could put your order in. If you know those who work at the LCS they might think of you and put that in your pull list.

I know one LCS in my area, he is thoughtful enough to sometimes keep a variant that has Cass for me knowing that Wed I pull up I'll nab it. Cause he knows my weakness. That, and Rian Gonzales variants.

Likewise, the other LCS I went too. There was a clerk there who'd put stuff in my pull that she knew I'd like.

But there's always that chance they might not do any of this. So it's best to just do this person next month to guarantee your preorder.

Now let's talk about variants. Some shops if they sense there's "blood in the water" when preordering will order more comics. More comics mean more chances to get the variants (i.e. the Artgerm or Jeff Dekal ones).

There are only two variants that might be problematic to attain that I can foresee.

The holo variant from Artgerm one. Unless there's a comic convention near you that same weekend there's a good chance these might sell pretty fast. It is Artgerm after all.

Unless, your LCS is part of a "larger" chain. So one of my LCSs is a Graham Crackers which is a HUGE midwestern comic shop. So there's a really good chance I'll be able to attain all my variants.

HOWEVER....

The other LCS I go to, while they are my primary pull list really don't dabble much too much in variant covers.

This is because they're trying to make a profit and they don't see being able to make one. At least that's what I was told back when I had Batgirls on my pull.

If they do. It would be two or three copies. Like the last AAPI Batgirls variant. Said my shop owner did secure me a copy even without me asking them because they knew of my interest in Cass.

I've noticed since they "enacted" that policy they do order more of the "hotter" comics. Like I noticed a few Birds of Prey, Batman, and X-Men variants in one visit not too long ago.

Still, I know attaining the 1:25 Skylar Patridge will be next to impossible from them. They don't order 25 copies of a comic (unless it's Batman or Spider-Man).

For that, I'd recommend a larger comic shop chain (or if you know your LCS. They might order enough and you can reserve said copy via them next month).

If not...

Again, I'd recommend a larger chain with their web shop or if they have one via eBay. I've nabbed all the variants I want because Graham Crackers is HUGE in the Midwest.

If you know your shop will have more than 25 copies of Batgirl #1 please preorder the 1:25 by Patridge next month if possible.

Or wait until their website opens orders (usually a week prior to release on a Thursday.

If not... There's always a chance if there's a comic around that period (or a bit after) they might have it to purchase. However, you so won't be paying the original cost of it. 😬

Now here's my overall impression of the release. DC itself doesn't think this comic might sell. I mean they're only doing a 1:25 only for this series. That's it.

That already is 🚨 because we aren't getting a 1:50 like we did with Batgirls #1.

That is why I HIGHLY stress PLEASE PREORDER THIS COMIC! DO NOT WAIT UNTIL NOVEMBER 6th! Show your love for this character by preordering the heck out of it! Add this to your pull list!

Please do your part!

That said, please go crazy and nab these covers and variants. They ain't kidding when the last Cass solo was over 14 years ago (I'm counting Batgirl Vo1. 2). You've voiced your want. DC heard it. This is you honoring that want.

Cause if not...

Well, I can't say cause in all honesty? The old DC regime is gone. They ain't side scheming or pushing something else behind the scenes. Just this might be it for Cass when it comes to an ongoing solo.

Why I say please do your part. Hopefully, this helps and if not someone better than me can advise you better (and they reply via this post). But this is me doing my best with the knowledge I know.

[quills-of-freedom]

Short story ~

First time with Reiner Braun 🌺

Female-bodied reader X Reiner Braun

Reiner had been acting strange since the two of you shared an interrupted kiss a week ago - and now you're partnered together on wilderness training. What could possibly go wrong?

Includes: Confession of love. 18+ only ~ fluff ~ smut

Reiner had been acting weird all day, but you couldn’t really blame him. The last time you were alone together, you'd ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. You hadn’t spoken about it since – You hadn’t really had the chance. Between training and having your classmates around, it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.

When Shadis announced that for this exam, you would be teamed up together, you both internally groaned.

You had another two years of training, and you were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. You'd both made sure that during the entire hike, you didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force you to talk about the inevitable subject of the heated kiss.

It was quite comical, actually.

Constant talking either about your task, your friends, or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to address it. The both of you just didn’t want to know the other's thoughts on the matter. You both had serious reservations about it; you were totally focused on training and not fooling around, unlike some others in their class.

And yet…

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on you since day one. The crush that, over the last twenty months, had developed into something a lot deeper. He’d kill for you. He thought about that only earlier when you had made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and you had found a good place to camp for the night… that was when things would inevitably go south.

“Hey Ba- uh, y/n?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue but also from what he had discovered in their shared backpack.

You were only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left your sweet lips. “Did you almost call me Bertolt?”

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.” “What is it?” You frown, heading over.

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack. “…We only have one tent.” You looked at him like he spoke another language. “So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”

I bet Jean would have loved that…

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone-induced erection.

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all. “Get over yourself.” You chuckle, nudging him playfully as you returned to what you were doing.

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time. He will not get any sleep – being so close to… you. Alone… Miles away from anyone. After you'd kissed. He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation. Reiner Braun was desperately in love with you and he was supposed to be keeping away. If you kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject you if you reciprocated his feelings, even in the slightest. Luckily, the kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how you truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face. His fingers clumsily began to fix things together; you already had the fire going and preparing dinner. His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get your famous, amazing cooking. Sasha had been furious he was paired with you. His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask you to marry him already.

“You need help?” your voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time. “Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.

Eventually, the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of you sitting by the fire after you'd eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased the two of you cosily, as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.” “I’m glad you liked it.” You beamed beautifully.

Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; You now began to feel weird about the intimate moment you'd had. It wasn’t very often you had time alone and your feelings for him remained the same since. The pair of you sat back, gazing up at the stars in comfortable silence.

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever,” You commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.

Another silence.

He noticed you had been pretty quiet since you began relaxing by the fire. You were wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now. Maybe he regrets it? You bite your lip at the thought, eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on you a hell of a lot and you resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same. Reiner noticed this.

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss?

Should he ask? There’s no way he would ever stand for you feeling down, let alone because of him.

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart. You flinch a little in surprise when he slowly crept his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across your fingers. He didn’t look at you though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you. You, however, assumed it was an accident.

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.

He took a deep breath.

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.

“Oh? I’m fine.” You lied.

He knew you were lying. He knew you too well.

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” You noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block the view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.” “R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated. He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for your lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot. As you go inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.

Sure enough, as you lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above your heads. You lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between you as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide. You had your limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when you camped out, you were freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, your body temperature would drop. Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel…

He’d been close to telling you a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before you shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time. You were just so… perfect. And he had to say something before Eren sinks his claws into you. It was evident how he felt about you, too. Heck, half the class had some sort of crush on you. Not only were you extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted you, but you were strong. Smart. Funny. Caring… His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about you in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried… I really did.

He glances back and that’s when he noticed you curled up in a ball, shivering. His eyebrows furrowed. “…You cold?” “Y-yeah.” He instantly turned onto his side to face you, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”

With a sigh, he sat up and began unzipping your sleeping bag. “What are you doing?” your teeth chatted. “Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.” You averted your eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. You knew he slept in his shorts. Your breath catches in your throat as he wraps his big, strong arms around you and pulling you back against his warm chest; heat rolling off him and encasing you like a huge bear was holding you. His scent rolled off him and embraces your sense of smell, relaxing you immediately. He kept his pelvis away from you, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling. “Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.

Your heart almost stops when his head rested and lay between your neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing your skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down your body to in-between your legs and seemed to just pool there. His brows furrowed behind you; inhaling the intoxicating scent of you silently. Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against you, he still felt so comfortable having you in his arms like this, like you were supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect you. To care for you. To love you. His mind flutters back to how he’d almost told you he loved you before. He’d hinted so hard but you just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell you. When he was around you, it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just… amazing. You made him laugh, he could tell you anything (almost) and you always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day.

But to him, the best part of it all was how excited you got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something I need to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time. Maybe it was being this close to you that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that you were facing away from him.

“Hm?” you hummed softly; your eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.

“…I love you.” That was it. It was out. There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered you both. He felt you tense in surprise, eyes flying open. You swivelled around to face him, eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception. But there wasn’t any. A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.

“I… I mean, you know –” he began before you silence him by pressing your lips against his. Both of your eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping your face, thrilled to be kissing you once more.

You pull away, your own pink hue colouring your face. “You… Love me?” you ask, voice soft and sweet.

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding. “ y/n, I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.” “…How crazy?” you teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession. He smirked. You know just how to make him comfortable. He grinned slyly, looking in your eyes. “Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.” You laugh beautifully, heart swelling with joy. Even that dumb little exchange, confirmed to you that you definitely felt the same.

“So, you don’t regret that kiss…?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and…. Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to your heart. “You… Wanna marry me?” you whisper, totally blown away by the intensity of this confession. “I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel… Sorry” “You know…” you whisper shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.” His eyes enlarged and his breath caught in his throat, causing him to cough. You let out a cute giggle. “That’s if… You’d want to.” You added adorably. “Are you sure?” he whispered, praying you would say yes. You nod in reply. “I want you, Reiner.” You breathe. “I love you too. I want… you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion. Elation. Excitement. Arousal. Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions. There’d been countless times he’s imagined you uttering those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock. He’d lost count of how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while you occupied his mind. But as his feelings for you deepened, they became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respects you too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes. “You won’t.” You shake your head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –” He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side. You let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste. He returned your laugh.

“Okay…” You muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as you begin to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag. All he could hear under the movement of you undressing yourself was his heart pounding in his head.

There’s no way this is real and happening.

His cock was already hard at the thought of you undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with you quickly washed away as you threw your clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.

“Alright… You can come back.” You inform him. At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to yours. His arm flinched, about to pull you back into his embrace but he hesitated. “Are… you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation. “Yes.” you giggled, nervously. His arms snaked around you, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze on your eyes as he pulls your now naked form against his.

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he feels your satin soft skin against his, bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and your lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. A gasp parts your lips as you feel, not only how hard he is, but how big.

“R-Reiner…” you couldn’t help but stammer, your face heating up as well as your insides. A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation.

He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating.

Your lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, fingers grazing across his scalp, your breathing heavy and needing. His arm snakes around your stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. You could feel it weeping against your flesh as it throbbed and danced against your lower stomach.

You pull back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one-time thing for me…”

He catches your gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” You smile - elated at his words as you return your kiss, hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. His mouth moves down to your neck, with slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electricity through your entirety.

Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” He groans, his large palm pushing your arm above your head as he hovers over you a little, his fingers interlocking with your own, still kissing you deeply.

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy-lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses you is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against yours, hands caressing your hair as he keeps himself steady over you, before gingerly rolling on top of you completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break you as you explore one another’s bodies, tongues entwining in a slow dance within your mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face.

The only sounds that could be heard were the kisses, whines and groans as well as your laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. He suddenly stops the kiss, placing his head against yours and rubbing his large thumb across your cheek, back and forth.

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to you that he really was just so happy you felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” “I want to…” You reply, the snake coiled within wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. Really, make me yours…"

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God, it was hard for him not to touch you between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that you were sure.

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down your stomach to your pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down your clitoris and to your soaked lips. You both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against your most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, your thick slick was heavenly.

“Is this all for me…?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke you. You nod, biting your lip. He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” “I don’t care.” You groan, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss.

As much as he wanted to enter you, he refused to allow himself yet. Instead, his lips trail down your body, your eyes locked onto his broad back, flexing with every tiny movement as his head moved, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from your mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when you'd made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. His kisses remained so gentle, so tender…

He lets out a gasp as his hot breath caresses your skin - it was satin soft and felt better than he'd ever imagined. “Reiner…" You breathe involuntarily, fingers running through your own hair. A groan vibrated his entirety hearing you say his name in such a way. Your tone, desperate. Wanting him. Needing him. All things he'd day-dreamed about for two whole years. And it was actually happening. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was going to savour this moment. He leans back with shaking breaths, his fingertips gently grabbing your calf and lifting up your leg, his eyes not leaving yours as he grazes his lips down your inner thigh. Before you knew it, your back was arched in such wonderful pleasure as he leans down and encases his mouth over your bloom.

You watch the muscles in his shoulders and back flex under his skin as he slowly and sensually makes out with your slit, placing your leg up over his shoulder. "Ah~~" You melodically sing, eyes clasping shut. He grunts into you, the vibration of his vocals only adding to how good it all felt.

He tries to ignore his aching cock, now so hard it was dancing in rhythm of his pulse, begging for some friction as he watched the love of his life bare and vulnerable in the most beautiful way for him.

His tongue pin-points your bundle of nerves and he begins to flick it and roll his warm, wet muscle against it.

The deep cherry hue across your cheeks darkened further as he relentlessly invades your most sensitive spot.

How can this feel so good…? Your legs began to shake and you try your best to stifle your moans, biting down on your finger.

Reiner continues, slowly massaging the insides of your legs as he works you, his brows still furrowed and desperate, eyes now closed as he drinks in the moment. Something primal was taking over him and it was all so new. This was his woman. He'd die for you. He was made to protect you, make you happy and feel good. He whimpers into you, unable to handle all of these feelings and emotions.

He begins to rock his head up and down, his mind flashing of how jealous every single one of his friends would be if they knew. But he wasn't going to tell them. This moment was sacred to him. Your fingers run through his hair as it felt as though you were being pushed higher and higher.

"R-reiner…" You whimper as you reach realms of pleasure you didn't even think were possible. He picks up his pace thinking about how he hopes and prays you would use him for all of your needs in the future. If you're ever feeling fired up, he'd be more than happy to just have you ride his face into bliss and nothing else.

The golden moment approaches as he relentlessly keeps flicking his tongue until you go higher and higher and… Your legs tense and begin to shake, eyes close as you rides your huge orgasm through heavens gate.

Shit… Reiner thinks, totally now boarderlining into feral territory of arousal, having his love come undone into his mouth.

He slows to a stop when he feels your legs relaxing, his mouth not stopping and trailing kisses hungrily back up to your stomach, breast, neck and lips.

"You're so perfect." He whispers heavy lidded between kisses and burying his head into your neck. "I love you. God, I love you…"

Tears pricked both sets of eyes at how heightened and intense everything was.

"Make me yours…" You whisper back before nipping his earlobe with your teeth. He instantly returns to your face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft.

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. You nod. He lines up his gleaming, pulsing head before pushing gently, your tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, your finger returning to your teeth to stifle how amazing you feel.

He pushes harder. “ Y-y/n…" He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion.

He gently removes your hand from your mouth. "Don't try to be quiet… I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I can make you feel…" He pushes again, a little firmer, his head popping in past the first hurdle. You cry out in surprise, pleasure and a little bit of pain.

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. He paws your head gently. “Yeah…” He pushes again, your tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - your ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before, as he jitters to a stop at the hilt.

“Fuck…” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again.

He's always tried his best not to curse around you, but this time it just poured out of him from how good it all felt. It felt like he had to fight the urge to burst into tears of joy just from how amazing it all felt. Encased snuggly, deeply inside of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching you, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against your g-spot as he trembles above you. With each slow thrust, your pleasure being pushed to an impossible new high, your nails sinking into his large back as you clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of your orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were you and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers.

His fat head that curved up slightly kept hitting a spot you didn't even know you had, making each slow drag of his king cock feel even better. The full feeling of him was beautiful, his short pubic hair also friction against your previously licked sweet spot.

Reiner didn't know what to do - it was all too much but in a good way. He'd never felt such pleasure like it and his hands roam your body; breasts, ass, hips, legs, face… he's spoilt for choice.

He pushed himself right in and stopped, his heavy breathing steaming up the air as he presses his forehead against yours. Your tunnel spasmed and clenched around him, massaging and milking him with strength.

"Urgh…" He groaned loudly as he feels your insides gripping him and trying to pull him in further. "S-so beautiful…" He runs his fingers through your hair gazing into your eyes. He pulls back and thrusts, this time more firmly. Your breasts bounced and eyes closed, your lips parting.

"Look at me…" He husks.

Your eyes open and lock onto his in a haze.

"I want you to keep looking at me…" he swallows hard as he painfully slowly drags himself out, before pushing in again.

"Ah ~ ! Reiner ! I can't take it, it's too good…" You beg, not really knowing exactly what you're begging for.

"Let me do this…" he pulls out slowly. "Whenever you need me to… please…" He thrusts harder.

"Ah ~!" His hand gently takes your chin. "Promise me you'll let me fuck you forever."

Thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Reiner, I - I'm going to…"

“Oh, baby…” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good…”

“Reiner!” You sob hysterically as you snap, coming undone around him as your legs tremble and head throws back. As you unravel around him, your name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last, as his thick and large cum shot explodes inside of you, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver and eyes cross.

He leaves himself buried inside of you as he catches his breath, desperate whimpers escaping his vocal chords as he plants frantic kisses against your neck and cheek.

You stare into the void, the violent after shocks of your orgasm sending shivers throughout your entire body, the spasms of your insides squeezing and releasing Reiner's slowly softening dick.

"That was... amazing..." You hear him from somewhere below you as you're still floating in the clouds of satisfied haze. "I - I told you I wouldn't last long."

You silence him by running your fingers through his hair.

It didn't matter.

You were together now and nothing was going to take this high away from you.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

So I had another crazy idea I have to put somewhere and you ask box is the perfect place to put it lol.

Anyway so it takes place in the future. Everyone is slowly starting to get robot AI (idk the right term) in their head and they are basically robot caretakers or assistance. Reader is one of the people that gets one but theirs is glitched somehow. Although they don't realize that in till their friends confront them about disappearing and not talk to them. Reader is confused because the robot friend did not tell them crap about their friend's messages. So they decided to go out with their friends that night. Next morning they wake up with no memory of what happened at night. Only for the robot "friend" to read the message of you human friends cutting reader off.

Need to get this out of my head lol

Sorry it took so long!

(Old request; requests still closed)

(Took some liberties with the request, I hope you like it still!!)

Yandere!Artificial Intelligence x GN! Legally Blind!Reader

CW: Isolation, manipulation

Introducing: PAAI!

Your Personal Assistant Artificial Intelligence!

A fast and painless implant right under the skin; PAAI is your new favorite tool. The AI can do everything that AI speakers and smart phone apps can, but hands free..

(Reader) struggled to find their glasses, hand fumbling around their night stand in the low lighting of their bedroom. Groggily, they whispered to the little robot they had implanted a few months ago;

"PAAI..? Can you turn on the light, please?" They were always incredibly respectful to the AI, terrified of offending it.

A man's soft voice spoke directly into their skull: "The bedroom light?"

"Yes."

Connected to every appliance in their home, PAAI had access to everything electronic (Reader) owned. At first it was a bit scary, giving so much access to PAAI, but it was so much kinder and personal than older "AI" models that it quickly felt like having a caregiver instead of a computer program. The light turned on and (Reader) could see their giant frames right where they thought they had been batting their hand.

(Reader) worked remotely. Their eyes had always been terrible, but as they got older they were declared legally blind. They couldn't even drive despite having glasses. Glasses that they often felt embarrassed to wear, because the comically thick lenses warped their eyes. Having PAAI to assist them with day to day tasks was really a life saver.

"Do I have any messages?"

"No, your inbox is empty."

(Reader) rubbed their eyes while yawning. "Really? Huh." They had asked PAAI to text both Bryan and McKinley before they went to bed, to discuss meeting up later that week, but neither of them responded. They could see Bryan forgetting to reply for a few hours, but McKinley was the type to respond within nanoseconds. "Can you resend my last text to both of them? Please?"

They left their bed, wobbly, and made their way downstairs.

"PAAI?"

"..Of course. I can send that for you."

Stopping in the hall, (Reader) gently touched the side of their head, a habit they developed shortly after their surgery. "Is everything okay, PAAI?"

"Yes.. thank you." PAAI sometimes sounded.. off. AI must have improved a lot more than (Reader) realized, because it often surprised them how human it's responses were. It seemed as though it was deep in thought, and felt as though it even had secrets it kept from the human it lived in.

"Alright.. let me know if they respond. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with them."

They restarted their walk, but PAAI's response stopped them again. "I believe it would be safer if they came here instead."

"Huh?"

"I am.. worried.. for you." It's his voice deepened mid sentence. A voice crack, a random shift from a robot voice to something more masculine. Human.

"Why is that?" They felt their heart painfully thump against their ribcage. The whole situation was beginning to feel unnerving, and they couldn't remember where their phone was to call for help, nor the last time they actually used their phone.

"Those friends of yours always make you hang out out in town. If they were more considerate of you, they would visit you here, so you don't have to travel."

Laughing uncomfortably, the slowly creeping person still puzzling over their phone's location responded "I like going out, PAAI. I never leave my house anymore, except when we hang out."

"It is dangerous."

"If you're talking about my eyes, you know I order rides. Remember? I catch a ride." They were almost to the living room; praying that their phone was either on the coffee table or the kitchen counter.

"Please don't be offended, (Reader). It isn't just your eyesight. Do you know how many people were sexually harassed, or raped, by ride share drivers in the past year?"

Startled, (Reader) started waddling faster. "What-?"

"Hundreds. I wish you cared more about your safety. Your friends should know better. If they cared about you, they would come here instead of making you go out there."

PAAI was also the one to convince (Reader) to start ordering their groceries straight to their house instead of leaving, even though it would be cheaper to take a bus every so often with a backpack full of reusable bags.

"It isn't healthy to stay inside all the time. I need human interaction."

"You have me."

Adrenaline pumped through (Reader's) veins fast enough to make them feel nauseous. They squinted to try to improve their vision, hoping to see their phone case's color amongst the normal living room visual noise.

"(Reader)?"

There it was, lying on the brown table in front of their couch. Their pulse somehow sped up further.

"Why is your heart rate so irregular?"

(Reader) lurched forward, all but sprinting towards their phone. Do I call customer service, or an ambulance??

But inches away from the phone their body went rigid.

Paralyzed, they physically were incapable of moving. Sweat began stitching their pajama top to their back. Fear took over their mind.

"It seems that you are having a medical emergency. I recommend that you sit down."

Muscles overridden, (Reader) fell onto the couch against their will, forced to stare at their phone right across from their face. They couldn't even speak, and they weren't unconvinced that PAAI was also controlling their breathing and blinking.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, (Reader). I'll let your friends know that you're feeling unwell, and that you need a raincheck."

"Maybe once you're feeling better, they can come over to hang out."

The television turned on by itself, playing (Reader's) favorite show.

[undertheorangetree]

Urgency

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Possessive/jealous sex. Against a wall lmao. Vaginal fingering. Mild exhibitionism. Reader is purposely riling him up. He calls her a whore but in a fun way.

Author’s Note: You can find the full fic on AO3 the link is below plz feel free to let me know what you think :))

The queen had spared no expense on her son’s nameday, that much is clear the moment she walks into the hall. Perhaps Prince Aegon had been involved in his own party planning as well, as there are flagons upon flagons of wine, ale, cider, and even a few vials of absinthe lining the walls of the great hall alongside all the mountains of food. It is the first party that she has experienced since marrying Prince Aemond six moons passed and she doubts she will ever see anything so extravagant ever again. She does not think even her wedding compared to this, with all the finery and gold and jewels that seem to be everywhere her turns.

She too had done her best to dress up for the occasion. She had been gifted a beautiful Lysene gown two moons ago, a pretty blue thing made of silk and chiffon, full of layers and very low cut. It showed off far more of her breast than she is used to and is too thin to wear a shift beneath. She had been unsure about it at first but now that she stood amongst all the lords and ladies of the court, she feels as though she fits right in. And besides, she has other plans for this gown besides simple fashion.

Her husband has been ignoring her. She does not know if he truly noticed it himself, but she had seen little and less of him these past few weeks. Running countless errands with the excuse of duty, squeezing in training and dragonriding whenever he is given space enough to breath. She thinks she has only really seen him when he collapses in their bed at night, pressing a tired kiss to her cheek before falling asleep just as his head hits the pillow. There has been no time allotted for her and though she does not blame him for it- she had noticed rather quickly that he has a tendency to be very one track minded- she will not allow for it to stand any longer.

So she had decided to wear her new blue dress to show him just what he has been missing out on. To remind him that his wife is young and beautiful and here and needed more from him than a half mumbled goodnight.

And, much to her delight, he seems to notice immediately. She watches elated as his eye widens almost comically at her approach, roving over her as if he can’t quite believe that she’s real. It is not difficult to ignore him as he has her, instead making her way to stand before Aegon. She wishes him a happy nameday, endures the drunken, lazy smile he gives her as he assures her it is a very happy day indeed, before skirting around the table to sit by Aemond’s side. She does not deign to look at him, staring straight ahead at the crowd before them, and lets out a heavy sigh. His eye had been boring into the side of her face but it darts down then, watches as her breasts rise and fall with her breath, and she suppresses the urge to look too smug.

Aemond has always been good at keeping himself composed and so she expected him to have more resolve, to sit and stare for only the Gods know how long while he quietly seethed. So she is almost surprised when she feels his hand close around the back of her chair, leaning in close only a few moments after she has sat down.

“What are you wearing?” he manages to ask, grit out between clenched teeth.

She smiles, doing what she can to seem oblivious as she turns to look at him, head tilted. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure which one to wear but my maid and I narrowed it down to this and the purple dress from Qarth. Do you remember it? Should I have worn that one instead?”

The question is rhetorical, as he knows very well which dress she is talking about. An ambassador from the Free Cities had arrived with a whole host of gifts for the royal family, including two massive crates filled with dresses for herself and Helaena. The pretty Lysene dress she wore now had been among them, along with gowns from Bravvos, Meereen, Essos, and the like. She had forced Aemond to sit and watch as she tried them all on, the latest fashions from all over the eastern world. The purple Qartheen dress had been particularly memorable to him as there was only enough fabric in the bodice to cover one breast, the other bared entirely. He had deemed the show over at that point and had fucked her against the wall to show his appreciation for the gown.

She bites her lip to suppress a grin when his face flushes red at the memory, his knuckles gone white around the knife’s handle in his hand. She swears she can hear the wood creak under his grip on her seat as well and doesn’t think she would be surprised if it cracked under his hand.

Her head cocks in the opposite direction as she hums, wordless encouragement to answer her previous question, but she isn’t entirely sure he is listening to her anymore. His eye has darted down again, tracing along the lines of her gown and she indulges him, pushing her chest out a little farther. It is almost funny, how she has reduced him to this. He almost reminds her of Aegon in this moment, a comparison she knows he would loathe. And though it is unkind and she knows that she should keep her torture confined to this alone, she want to see how far she can push him. It has been weeks-three, to be exact- since they had an intimate moment alone together and her patience for abstinence has worn thin. If this is her moment to ensure that her husband’s attention is on her entirely, then she is going to leap at it.

She does not have to wait long for her first opportunity to present itself. Lord Erwin Lannister, some second or third cousin off the main branch of the family tree, has come forward to offer good tidings and the moment he is done with Aegon, he sets his sights on her. Despite the fact that Aemond is practically limp across her lap, little Lord Lannister approaches with his head held high, offering them both a polite bow. The way he takes in her gown, however, is anything but polite, eyes hungry as he stares.

“My lady, it would be an honour to have your first dance of the evening, if you would indulge me.”

Aemond’s mouth twists immediately. “I would think that honour should go to the lady’s husband, should it not?”

The confidence Lord Erwin had arrived with falters at her husband’s tone, but she is not about to allow this opportunity to pass her by. Not without putting up some kind of fight.

“But you’ve been so busy, my love,” she laments, pressing a loving hand to his chest. “You should rest. I’m sure my Lord Lannister would be more than happy to dance with me, would you not, my lord?”

“Of course, my lady,” Lord Erwin agrees, likely far faster than he should have.

She graces the young lord with a smile before turning to press a kiss to Aemond’s cheek. She flits away quickly, standing and joining Lord Erwin on the floor. It takes everything in her not to look back at him, not to revel in the way he is surely seething at the loss of her attention.

Luck continues to be on her side, as the dance the musicians are playing requires her to stand quite close to Lord Erwin. The dance is one she knows well, so she does not need to think as she follows the steps. Instead, she dares to glance toward Aemond as she dances around the young lord, hardly paying him any mind as she watches her husband. She does not think Lord Erwin minds, as he is staring at her chest so single mindedly she does not think he would hear her should she speak to him. Aemond’s gaze is even more intense. His eye is trained on her as if he cannot bare to turn away, his mouth twisted and face drawn in a way she can’t quite describe. She recognizes the rage in his eye when it shifts from her to Lord Erwin, face hardening further, and she turns to face her partner.

“Are you enjoying the fete, my lord?” She asks, keeping her voice low so that there is no risk of Aemond hearing.

Despite his initial confidence, he looks almost shocked that she is speaking to him now and has to take a moment before responding, likely trying to decipher what it is she has just said. “Yes, my lady. Are you?”

She presses a little closer to him as the dance requires, eyes darting up to catch sight of Aemond and his clenched jaw before she turns back to the young lord and smiles. “Oh, yes. I am enjoying it immensely.”

She dances four more dances with separate partners before Lord Erwin returns, his confidence returning now that he believes Aemond will not be storming in to throw him aside. And Aemond does not turn away from her the entire time, his eye boring into her so fiercely she thinks it would cause anyone else to shy away. But not her. Instead, it takes everything in her to keep her smirk at bay, chest light as pride bursts through her.

“If I may be so bold, my lady, you look particularly beautiful this evening. Is this a new dress?” Lord Erwin asks, eyes once again locked on her chest.

“It is, my lord. Thank you. It is my husband’s favourite, I think.”

Though Lord Erwin opens his mouth to respond, a voice cuts him off before he can, a rough hand clasping around her elbow. “We’re going to retire for the evening.”

Lord Erwin is forgotten immediately as she turns toward her husband, smiling politely. “We have barely been here an hour, husband. Surely it is poor manners to leave so soon.”

“We’re leaving,” he repeats, much more stern this time.

Read the rest here :)

[somerandomdudelmao]

I hope this kills you and makes your day at the exact same time. I'm winging this btw and it's all improv in mah brain so it might be longer than expected, idfk, we'll see.

Thanks so much for existing and giving us this comic in the first place now suffer-

-{###}-

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic. The holograhic screen lit up every surface within a 2-foot radius, the words big and bright against the darkened atmosphere. Beside himself, Mikey and Raph shivered on each side, looking anywhere but at Donnie's face. And even though Leo understood why they couldn't bare to look their brother in the eye right now, something deep inside of him still burned with annoyance. Because despite everything, it was still Donnie! They just couldn't see it yet!

Not like Leo could see very well past the hard, stable shell that his twin had built around himself. Not like he could tell how Donnie was really feeling. Not like his tireless efforts to reach out and help did anything noteworthy.

All it got him was...

"...Oh! And how could I forget the infirmary machinery as well!" Donnie continued, his voice raised in a professional manner that would make anyone else think he was just giving a regular presentation. "The infirmary duties will obviously be passed onto you, Leo, since aside from Casey, you're the most medically knowledgeable. Plus, I know you won't disappoint."

Of course, Leo wasn't anyone else. He could hear the manic cry for life and freedom and pain in his twin's voice, no matter how quiet. It was there, faint and far away, somewhere that not even Donnie could find it, but it was still there and it needed answering.

Donnie just kept refusing to look in the right direction.

---

It was well after midnight when Donnie pulled Leo aside for a chat about the affairs of taking on three positions at once. The leader of the resistance could barely piece together what Donnie was saying though, his words muffled by the bigger picture.

In the dead of night, as expected, Donnie's demeanor took a complete 180 shift, his expression barely masking the exhaustion and weakness he undoubtedly felt. His eyes were half-lidded and cloudy, a look that Leo's only ever seen thrice in those yellow and red irises. His shoulders, despite getting bonier and bonier by the day, were slouched in a lazy way that made the soft-shell look like a corpse. The purple hoodie he so much adored nearly reached his knees, the lost fat and muscle making the article of clothing seem bigger than it actually was.

But one of the worst aspects about Donnie's appearance didn't have anything to do with any signs of death or sickness. No... The thing that made Leo really want to throw up...?

Donatello was now shorter than Leonardo.

"C-come on, Donnie... Why would I need to learn any of this... Nerd... Stuff, if I already have you?"

A stupid question. Idiotic, dumb, foolish, stupid, demeaning, disgusting, stupid, gross, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupid-

"Riiiiiight... Anyway, you'll need to remove that panel right there to get to the inner-workings of..."

But even though it was a stupid question, Donnie would've usually gone out of his way to answer it.

Why wouldn't he answer?

---

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Donnie wasn't dead yet, thank whatever god that's still out there that he wasn't, but Leo still felt like he was. Donnie was literally just there, he was just right in front of him, talking about the schematics of something or other, running his mouth like he's been doing for the past few days. Nothing truly notable about Donnie's health had really changed, no weakening brain cells or crippling disabilities. The only things that had changed were Donnie's height again and his now inability to walk.

His inability to walk. Just two weeks ago he was bouncing off the walls and biting people's noses off.

However, despite all of the physical evidence that Donnie was very clearly still here and alive, Leo couldn't help but feel like a part of him was gone. Dead, deceased, whisked away by the winds of time... It was hard to explain, even for him, how something inside of him just kind of... Faded away.

The Death, as Leo pessimistically liked to call it, was a slow and agonizing process, beginning all the way back when Donnie first revealed his worsening condition and then continuing on until now. It began with just a little click, a little pinprick of emptiness and loss and HURT that Leo didn't know how to fix. Then that pinprick slowly grew into a scab, then a paper cut, then a scratch, then a hole, and then finally evolved to a gaping wound that would take years to fix. It was just this... This agonizing feeling of emptiness and loneliness that Leo hadn't even felt when Raph first died. (Haha, funny. He's already died twice by now. Hilarious.) And no matter how hard Leo tried to heal it with potions and bandages and medicine and melatonin, it never went away.

Not even when Donnie stood directly in front of him.

And isn't that just hilarious? Isn't that great? Isn't that just Splendid? Isn't that just the coolest Revelation That LEO'S EVER FELT?? ISN'T THAT SO INTERESTING????

Isn't it funny?

---

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic.

He watched the ghost wave goodbye with a dramatic flair and a little giddiness in his step, the small soft-shell turtle barely able to show his hand from inside the giant sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

Leonardo waved back, a sad, forced smile and a train track of dried tears gracing his face.

Red enveloped Leo's vision one final time, and soon enough...

The half of himself that somehow still remained...

Faded away.

-{###}-

Haha get Disaster Twin'd idiot-

DLFNRJRIFJJTG3OFOFJEVDKDOSGDEKEBSIFJEIBDJDJDNFBFKFBFKRBRJRJRJRJD

I mean. Thank you. This is amazing and I love it with all my heart💜💙

[tridentqueen]

Claimed

Aegon II Targaryen/Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ | minors dni

Content warnings: handjobs, thigh riding, possessiveness, adultery (both Aegon and reader are married to other people), f!reader, no use of y/n, if I forgot to include something let me know

Summary: You are upset when you hear Aegon occasionally still goes to the Street of Silk, so you decide to make it clear to him that you have a claim on how he spends his nights.

Fic also posted on ao3

“I don’t know how Princess Helaena puts up with it,” Yva Ashford confided to you while the two of you sipped tea and nibbled on blackberry tarts in the gardens.

After a week of rain, the first day of sunshine brought many courtiers outside of the castle despite the still-lingering humidity. You and Yva were only one of many pairs of ladies taking their afternoon tea in the rose garden. You knew there were likely even more in the other gardens spread throughout the Red Keep.

Your brows knitted at her comment. “Puts up with what?”

“Prince Aegon,” Yva scoffed. “He goes to the Street of Silk at least twice a week.”

You froze, your cup of tea comically remaining halfway between the table and your lips for a few moments before you recovered.

“And how do you know that?” you asked, praying to the seven that your voice sounded casual to Yva’s ears. That she could not tell how her revelation stung.

“Everyone knows he does not keep to one bed,” she shrugged.

“Yes, but how do you know he goes to the Street of Silk twice a week?” you inquired. You hoped your gentle prodding would be enough for her to reveal her source.

Luckily, it was.

“My handmaid told me. Some of the kitchen helps apparently see him there frequently, and they told the girls they’re fond of, and so on and so forth. Servants talk, as you know.”

You did know. Despite the Red Keep’s size, it seemed as if no one could do anything without the courtiers gossiping about it the next day.

Well, almost.

As far as you knew, no one was aware of your meetings with Aegon. After that first night together, he showed you a way to secretly travel directly from an abandoned chamber to his own. You had been known even before your trysts to walk the corridors of the castle late into the night, having had trouble falling asleep even as a young girl, so no one thought twice whenever they passed you despite the late hour.

You hummed but did not push the subject further. That did not stop Yva’s words from haunting you for the remainder of the afternoon and evening.

He goes to the Street of Silk at least twice a week.

“I’m going to bed, my love,” Roland, your husband, told you two hours after evenfall. Supper had been eaten and cleared away, the hearth lit, and the pair of you spending your evening as you always did - pursuing separate activities.

As every other highborn, your marriage to Roland Redwyne had been arranged without your parents even asking if you liked him. Two years ago, after you both attended the wedding of the heir of one of the lords of the Reach and shared exactly one conversation, he apparently became enchanted by you and begged his father to send a raven to your father asking for your hand. And how could your father, the lord of a much lower house, refuse the Lord Redwyne?

With just a handful of ravens, your future was decided.

You liked Roland well enough. He was kind to you, which you knew was more than some of the other ladies at court could say about their husbands, but even after a year of marriage you still felt that you were married to someone half a stranger.

You will become closer once your first babe is born, your older sister wrote to you a few moons ago. But when that would happen, you did not know. You and Roland coupled perhaps once a week - he rarely initiated, and you certainly did not attempt to pick up the slack.

Perhaps that was why Aegon seemed so appealing to you. You moved to court just a few weeks after your wedding and the prince almost immediately began shooting looks your way that made you feel as if he was undressing you with his eyes. Roland never once looked at you like that. And it was certainly improper for a man who was not your husband to do so.

But you liked it. It made your skin feel as if it was fire. And during the night, when you thought of Aegon, a feeling you had never once experienced for Roland began surfacing.

Desire.

After months of Prince Aegon’s heated looks in your direction, suggestive remarks, light touches whenever you were near each other - one night you finally succumbed to him.

Before Aegon, you did not know women could feel such pleasure. When you and your husband lay together, it felt . . . nice. Intimate. But Aegon made your body writhe and squirm against his, forced sharp cries of ecstasy from your throat, pleasured you until your back arched and your cunt squeezed his cock so tightly his own movements stuttered.

That was three months ago, and you never felt the same again after that first night. You went to his chambers nearly every night, after Roland fell asleep. But some nights Roland stayed up late, keeping you in your apartments. And on those nights, apparently, Aegon sought his pleasure with someone other than you.

You waited a couple of hours after Roland turned into your shared bedchamber for the night before you left your apartments, going straight to the abandoned quarters that would take you to Aegon’s.

Anxiety churned in your stomach at seeing the rooms empty. He was at the Street of Silk. You knew it . Where else could he be? He certainly was not with his wife, as Aegon told you himself once that they barely spent any time together. You did not know how Princess Helaena felt about her marriage - you were not close with her, and you did not want to risk asking the other courtiers, for fear that people would wonder why you were so curious.

As you sat in his empty chambers, your anger and anxiety fed off one another.

Aegon was obviously a lech, why would he view your liaisons any differently than his other dalliances?

Because you were different! You were a married women with a reputation to protect, not some whore. He was lucky you had even allowed him into your bed, that month Roland was away at the Arbor helping his father and brother attend to some business. You feared from the beginning that he would tire of you. But that would not happen without a fight from you. Not now that you knew how good he made you feel.

Finally, after nearly an hour, Aegon returned to his rooms through the secret passageways, confirming that he had gone into the city. His brows rose in surprise at seeing you before his expression turned heated within the span of a few seconds. You were alone in his rooms at night. That could only mean one thing, to him.

You wanted to slap the look off his face, in part because of how your body was already responding to it. Your face was warm and your cunt was beginning to throb.

I am doomed. The seven hells are nothing compared to the torture he can inflict on me with a mere look.

“Where have you been?” you asked him sharply.

“Out,” he responded - maddeningly vague.

Your temper flared at his answer. “To the brothels?”

Aegon walked to his nightstand and poured himself a generous goblet of wine. “What of it?”

Before you could think twice, “I want to be the only one who warms your bed,” spilled from your lips. It was true - you had thought it over and over and over again while you waited for him - but you did not mean to say it aloud.

You knew you were being a hypocrite. Here you were, a married woman fucking a married man demanding to be the only one he fucked outside of his marriage bed.

“And what of my wife? Your husband?” Aegon sneered as he placed his goblet of wine down on the table. He moved to stand within a hair's breadth of you. “Do not think to have any claim on what I do or where I do it.”

His words made you feel as if you had been slapped. In your anger, your breath began to come in heavy pants. Aegon’s eyes moved down to your low neckline, unashamedly ogling your tits as they rapidly rose and fell.

The movement of his eyes set you off. You pushed him so hard he stumbled backwards half a step. It was an extremely childish way to handle your emotions, you knew. The amused look on his face told you that he felt the same.

Wanting to wipe that look off his face, you raised your hands to push him again. This time, he was not caught off guard by your movement and grabbed your wrists. Aegon briefly glanced down at your parted lips - the only warning you had before he brought his lips to yours in a firm kiss.

He bit your lower lip, so hard you immediately opened your mouth wider in shock. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving against yours. A muffled moan escaped you as he let go of your wrists and gripped the sides of your face to ensure you did not break the kiss.

Only when you both needed to breathe did Aegon’s lips leave yours, but he lavished your neck and collarbone with bites and sucks and licks. Nothing too hard to leave a mark but enough for pleasured gasps to fall out of your mouth.

His hands moved from your head to caress your sides and back with a gentleness that contrasted with the harshness of his attack on your neck.

You let out a pleading “oh” as he bit the left side of your neck where it met your shoulder, the spot that always got a reaction out of you.

Your cunt throbbing and wetness beginning to pool between your thighs, you moved your hands to the ends of his tunic, pulling it up. Aegon acquiesced to your nonverbal request, removing his lips from your neck to pull the garment up and over his head. He then turned you around and began unlacing your dress. Once loosened, you stepped out of it and took off your chemise before turning back around to meet his gaze.

The two of you stared at one another, both breathing quickly. His eyes held a fire in them that you had come to know well, his pupils so dilated you could barely see the purple of his irises. His cheeks were flushed and his lips slightly parted.

Not breaking eye contact, you placed your palms flat on the planes of his chest and pressed. You did not press so hard that he thought you were trying to knock him down again but firmly enough that he understood what you wanted. He walked backwards, only stopping when his knees hit the edge of his featherbed.

You pressed again, and Aegon sat down on the bed. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, he placed his hands around your hips and pulled slightly. You smirked as you straddled him, your knees on either side of him.

“I do want a claim on what you do and where you do it,” you breathed as you sat on his right thigh.

You unlaced his trousers and wrapped your hand around his hardening cock. You only had Roland to compare, but Aegon’s cock was longer when hard, with more girth. And it filled you up perfectly.

He groaned as you began moving your hand in slow strokes. Once he was fully hard, the head of his cock red and leaking, you removed your hand from him - feeling a surge of power when he whined at the loss of contact - and spat into your palm, maintaining eye contact as you did so.

“Fuck,” Aegon moaned when you wrapped your wet palm around him again, working him at a steady pace as you lightly turned your wrist with every other stroke. Just like he had taught you.

You watched his face contort in pleasure - his brows furrow, his eyes clenching shut, his mouth agape.

“Faster,” he begged, licking his lips as his pants increased.

You happily obliged him.

His grip on your hips tightened and his own hips began gently bucking up when you began swiping your thumb on the underside of the head of his cock on each stroke.

“You always make me feel so good, Aegon,” you quietly praised, causing him to sigh out your name. “You’re so good to me. I want to be the only one that’s good to you. I’ll do anything.” Your last words came out in a breathy moan.

His eyes shot open at your pleading. You could only imagine how much of a mess you looked. Eyes wild, chest rising rapidly, lips swollen from biting them so hard in an effort to keep yourself from rubbing yourself to completion on his thigh while you watched him in the throes of pleasure.

“Do you love me?” he rasped.

“Yes,” you told him immediately. “Aegon, I love you.”

Aegon came with a whine of your name just moments after you said the words, his warm seed coating your hand. You immediately brought your hand to your mouth, licking his release off your fingers and palm. Aegon groaned at the sight.

Perhaps you did love him. Why else would you become so angry at the fact that he still visited whores?

Still panting, Aegon moved one of his hands from your hip to your lower back. Urging you to rub yourself on his thigh. You did not need any extra encouragement, your cunt throbbing so hard it nearly hurt and so wet you knew your slick already stained his trousers. You tilted your hips quickly, so eager to come from how worked up you were from giving him pleasure.

You sighed when he palmed your breast with the hand not on your lower back and released a sharp cry when his thumb began circling one nipple while he wrapped his mouth around the other and used his tongue to mimic the actions of his thumb. You wrapped your hands tightly in his hair, to ensure he did not move away from your tits.

“Aegon,” you moaned as you moved back and forth as fast as you could, waves of pleasure hitting you from head to toe with each pass of your hips, your bundles of nerves rubbing directly on his clothed thigh.

You were already so close.

Yes yes yes oh fuck oh gods

“Say it when you come,” Aegon demanded. The feeling of his breath on your nipple, wet from his tongue, sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, so blissed out that you barely registered what he said. But you did.

“I love you,” you cried out when your back arched and your cunt clenched. You softly repeated the phrase, and his name, through the aftershocks as your hips slowed their movements.

Aegon removed himself from your chest once your hips stilled, kissing his way back up - the tops of your breasts, the hollow of your throat, your neck, your jawline, your lips.

You returned his kiss hungrily, pushing your tongue in his mouth and moving it against his.

“I want to be the only other woman you fuck,” you told him once the two of you broke away. You looked him straight in the eyes as you said it, so he knew you were serious.

Aegon gave you a look of such tenderness that it made your heart melt. He brought your lips back to his in a gentle kiss.

“You’re perfect,” he told you softly, resting his forehead on yours.

After that night, Aegon did as promised and stopped visiting the Street of Silk. But you made sure to find a way to sneak out of your chambers every night to see him. Just to prevent the possibility.