#this has been in my inbox for a while but here you go

[ddejavvu]

Excuse Me, Barmaid - Hiccup Haddock x Reader (Part 2) | SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Berk is a small island with a small populace. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody especially knows the son of the Chief. When you’re thrown into the mix, arriving alone on a ship from an island they’ve never heard of before, you’re the talk of the village. It, of course, doesn’t help that you’re now roommates with the aforementioned son of the Chief. Stoick’s hospitality is welcome, but how will you survive living amongst the Chief of Berk and his inquisitive son, all while keeping your secrets close to your chest?

Contents/Warnings: afab!fem!reader, mentions of sex, runaway!reader, non-canon timeline (no valka yet/stoick is alive but hiccup has dragonscale armor + trader johann hasn't... y'know...), more to be added as chapters are posted

WC: 7.6K / navigation / inbox / ddejavvu's summer of series

A/N: thank you for the love on part one! i'm massively inspired to write this series right now so I really appreciate that you guys are loving it and eager for more. I hope you like this part as much as the first! More is definitely on its way <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Hiccup’s journal is a tattered, impressive thing. It contains pages upon pages of sketches, blueprints for Toothless’s prosthetic tail fin- the story of which you’ve been filled in on, as well as Hiccup's metal counterpart - and doodles here and there of his green-eyed best friend. They bear a striking resemblance to the dragon currently stretched out on the forest floor to place his head in your lap, and his warm breath puffs over your stomach, seeping through your threadbare tunic and heating your skin.

You may be in shock.

You’d have assumed it would be harder to assimilate to an island full of dragons, not even ones that breathe fire and snap their great heavy jaws at you, but ones that blink up at you, pupils wide and teeth sucked into their gums.

But he’s done such a good job of acting like a cat that you almost forget he isn’t one, and his wings take you by surprise when he curls one over his exposed belly, protecting it from the ticklish grass of the cove.

“He really likes you.” Hiccup smiles, “I suppose that’s another reason I’m trying to help you. I trust his judgement.”

“He’s- sweet.” You marvel, “He’s twenty-five feet long, he’s got to weigh a thousand pounds, and he’s… sweet.”

“Legends about dragons are wrong.” Hiccup states, slipping his hand beneath Toothless’s wing to rub over his belly, round with fish, “You won’t need to fight them unless you try to. They’re gentle creatures.”

Toothless demonstrates this by getting so delighted that his belly is being rubbed that he whaps Hiccup upside the head with his red tail fin.

“Ow! Okay, except for that.” Hiccup yelps, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head, “You’ve really gotta stop swinging that thing around, bud. You’re gonna knock me out one day.”

Toothless raises his head from your lap to chatter back at Hiccup, and though neither of you understand what he’s saying, you certainly understand how he’s saying it.

“He has tone,” You laugh, “He’s- he’s arguing with you!”

“Yes, he is,” Hiccup drawls, “He does it all the time.”

“Incredible.” You note, and Toothless purrs contentedly, pressing his face back into your belly.

You gently rake your nails over the smooth scales on Toothless’s chin as Hiccup turns back a page of his journal, “Okay, so, we’re both familiar with the plan?”

“Stay out of the way, wait until the mead hall is empty, scrub like my life depends on it, and then in the morning your friends divebomb my boat?”

“You forgot be polite.” Hiccup reminds you, “I know my dad can be… brash, but that’s because he feels like you’re being brash. You might have to do some ass-kissing.”

You wish you could act indignant about it. But you are being stubborn, you are hiding the truth, and you’re going to for as long as you can get away with. So you nod, losing yourself in the pattern of Toothless’s scales, “Right. Ass-kissing.”

“It’s starting to get dark.” Hiccup notes, looking at the pinkening sky, “Berk doesn’t get much sun. We should head back before its hard to see.”

“Right. We’re flying.” You remember, as Toothless gets to his feet and shakes himself off, “I’m still getting used to that. Do you fly everywhere?”

“Almost everywhere,” Hiccup nods, reaching for his helmet on instinct and realizing that he’d left it in the great hall earlier, “I’ll walk around the village- to the forge, or to the great hall or whatever, but anywhere more than that and Toothless likes to stretch his wings.”

The large dragon crows in agreement, wings already spread to their full span. It makes him more intimidating, but you take Hiccup’s helping hand and mount him without much hesitation.

Taking off is easier this time, because now you know he’ll be gentle. It’s not really anything you’ve ever thought to prepare for- handling dragons, so you’re adapting as best you can amidst all of the other crises you’re going through. Toothless is a good test subject, and you’re sure Hiccup knows that.

Landing reveals that apparently it’s feeding time for the dragons, and Toothless nudges his snout into Hiccup’s back, crooning hopefully as the other dragons swarm the feeding troughs.

“Go ahead, bud. We’ll be okay.” Hiccup ruffles his hand over Toothless’s nose, nudging him towards the fish being snapped up by the mouthful. The dragon bounds away excitedly, and sticks his nose in beside a dusty blue colored dragon with a yellow spiked tail. They gorge on food, stuffing their mouths and shoveling mounds of fish into their hungry bellies.

“Hiccup!” A woman’s voice calls, and you turn to see a blonde viking rushing over. She’s got furs on her shoulders and around her ankles, and her hair is intricately braided over her shoulder, “Hiccup, I heard what happened.”

“I’m sure you heard something happened,” Hiccup grimaces, turning towards her, “But I’m willing to bet everyone blew it a little out of proportion.”

“You’re our overnight guest?” She guesses, her eyes narrowed like Stoick’s, and you wonder if she’s heard from him, or his friend, “The one that won’t answer any questions?”

“I’m Y/N- That’s me.” You nod politely, “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m only restocking my rations.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what they’ve all said.” She warns, “Everyone’s curious, y’know. It’d probably be easier just to tell us the truth, instead of whatever everyone else will come up with.”

“I’ll take my chances.” You let your weight rest on one leg, your hip jutted out defiantly, “But thanks for looking out for me…?”

“Astrid.” Her mouth forms a tight line, then she nods to the dragon beside Toothless, “That’s Stormfly, my nadder. Stoick wants us to keep an eye on you, too.”

“Toothless and I can handle it,” Hiccup reaches for her placatingly, but she rounds on him.

“He meant for us to keep an eye on you. The three of you, you, Toothless, and Y/N.”

“I don’t need babysitting.” Hiccup grumbles, sounding like someone who does, very much, need babysitting.

“Well, you’re just lucky Stormfly can’t leave her clutch for more than a meal this soon after hatching,” Astrid sighs, “I told Stoick I couldn’t do it. But I swear,” She leans towards you, poking an accusatory finger at your chest, “If I hear even a whisper that something’s going on with you, she’ll shoot every single one of those spikes into your gut, you got it?”

Astrid points at the nadder’s tail, and your arms cover your vulnerable torso instinctually.

“Alright,” Hiccup laughs nervously, pulling Astrid’s shoulder back so that he puts space between you two, “She already thinks we’re a little hostile to outsiders, let’s not make it worse. Toothless and I can handle it! He’s a night fury! And I’m Hiccup! And she won’t do anything, anyways. She promised.”

Astrid looks at Hiccup like wearing a helmet to protect his brain is a waste of time.

“Oh, she promised! Like Heather promised to-”

“Heather is different!” Hiccup insists, and the two devolve into squabbling that their dragons have to separate. You stand uselessly while the two bicker over each other, and Toothless nudges the dragon beside him with irritation clear in his narrowed eyes. Apparently, dinnertime is over.

They move as one, creeping up behind their riders and plucking them apart like mother cats scruffing kittens. Toothless drags Hiccup five meters backwards, and Stormfly ends up parking Astrid beside you, noticing you for the first time. She drops her rider into the grass in favor of examining you with one of her massive, yellow eyes, and you take a half-step backwards in fright before Hiccup can shout that you’re okay.

“She’s friendly!” He assures you, and to his credit, the dragon does nothing but stare, tilting her massive head towards you while keeping it sideways, “She can’t see in front of her, she’s just checking you out from the side.”

“You’re afraid of dragons.” Astrid notes, almost haughtily from where she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, “Are you a trapper?”

“She’s not a trapper,” Hiccup scoffs, reaching out to scrub a hand over Stormfly’s nose and hopefully deter her from moving any further into your personal space, “She’s never even seen a dragon before.”

Astrid’s brow creases only further at that, “Never? What island did you come from, anyways?”

“Remember, I don’t answer questions?” You raise a brow at her, but then you remember the part of Hiccup’s plan where you’re supposed to kiss ass, “I- It’s just private, okay? It’s all very dramatic and I wouldn’t want to bore anyone with the details.”

Astrid’s studying you much like Stormfly had, but her arms are crossed in front of her chest, unimpressed.

“Well vikings are fond of storytelling,” She muses, and Stormfly has grown bored of Hiccup itching at her scaly snout, now huffing and puffing at your arm, “Maybe you could regale us with the tale around the dinner table tonight.”

“Astrid.” Hiccup snaps, his voice taut, “Lay off.”

Stormfly snorts, and you choose to ignore the dragon snot now adorning your tunic, because you have bigger things to worry about. The dragon knocks her great head into your side so roughly that you tip over, and you yelp as you hit the grassy ground, the dragon following your descent.

Stormfly barely misses clipping your chin with her horn with the way she huffs into your stomach, dragging her snout up and over you as her two giant legs move on either side of you. All at once there’s a very large dragon on top of you, and she tucks your flailing limbs into the space between her legs and tail with her chin, closing you in.

Your thigh is by your cheek, and your other leg is bent awkwardly away from it, your tendons burning as they strain to stretch and not snap. Your head is cushioned by a scaly dragon foot, and you barely have time to get your bearings before light spills into your eyes again, and Astrid is shoving Stormfly’s giant head out from between her feet.

“Sorry!” Hiccup calls, his voice muffled until one of your ears becomes uncovered, “She has a habit of collecting people she likes. You can take it as a compliment,” Hiccup offers a hand to haul you out from beneath the dragon that Astrid is persistently shoving backwards over the grass so that you can untangle your limbs, “But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“She frequently sits on people?” You ask, brushing loose grass from your clothes and stumbling warily away from the two-legged dragon currently squawking at her rider.

“That’s how Nadders protect their young,” Astrid glares sideways at you, like it’s your fault that her dragon had decided you were baby-shaped and tried blocking off your airways, “She’s just very friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” Hiccup reasons, “It’s a good sign that the dragons are liking you so far. That means we’ll have less problems to deal with in getting you to stay.”

“Stay?” Astrid raises a brow, her arms crossed in front of her chest, “The Chief said she could be here for one night.”

“I know that,” Hiccup hedges, grimacing at his slip-up, “I just mean- well, y’know, if she does a really good job at scrubbing the mead hall, maybe we’ll want to keep her around.”

“She’s leaving tomorrow.” Astrid glares first at Hiccup, then at you, “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You lie, standing tall with your hands clasped primly behind your back, “No trouble.”

“We’re watching you,” She vows, and Stormfly emphasizes her rider’s point by staring at you sideways again out of one great big eye, “I swear, any suspicion and I’ll fling you out into the sea myself. Stormfly is very good at ditching people in the ocean.”

Despite her threats being empty, just for show, your stomach twists and you edge a step away from the dragon, to Astrid’s satisfaction.

“Yes, and Barf and Belch are good at blowing houses up,” Hiccup drawls, “And Hookfang is good at threatening to swallow Snotlout, and so on and so forth. They’re all capable of dangerous things, but they’re also capable,” He smiles at you, his eyes bright as Toothless burrows beneath his arm and against his side, "-of loyalty. Absolutely unfailing loyalty, at that. If you're kind to us, trust that you’ll be safe here.” He casts a backwards glance at Astrid, “Even if you’re only planning on staying one night.”

Toothless croaks happily at you, and when he carefully steps forwards, considerate enough to take slow steps in case he spooks you, you let him butt his head up beneath your palm for a scratch against his jaw.

“See? You’re a natural.” Hiccup grins, and you’re fairly certain that’s because your cousin had a dog while you were growing up, and they seem to be similar creatures, but you’re not going to talk back any more than you already have. Hiccup seems to be the only one on Berk that’s on your side, so you heave a silent, heavy sigh instead of opening your mouth again.

“It’s dinner time,” Astrid notes, watching the sun sink lower into the sky, as well as the swarm of Berkians headed for the doors to the great hall, “Will you be joining us, or are you late for another disappearing act?”

“Oh, don’t mind her.” Hiccup decides your conversation is over, pushing you firmly but not roughly towards the great hall while the dragons tail you, “In her defense, like I said, we have had newcomers sneak off to conspire against us. But stay where everyone can see you, and try not to be so, well, y’know, stubborn and mysterious at dinner, and you’ll be fine.”

Shoulders hunched, hair a mess from its rendezvous with the grass, two dragons and a pissed-off rider trailing at your heels, you’re not sure you could look more mysterious and stubborn. But you’ll try to do what Hiccup thinks is best, because right now he's all you've got.

The meade hall is bustling like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Berk is a refreshingly tight-knit community, with people lining up at tables against the far end of the hall to set up dishes they’d brought in communal pots. It seems as though it’s one big assembly line, food brought from here, there, and everywhere for everyone on the island to share. For the most part, people serve their own dishes, and you feel out of place lining up to be served instead of bringing your own portion.

“I told you we mostly barter.” Hiccup hands you a bowl, still wet from having been washed previously, “Berk’s gold is more for alliances than anything. A lot of people make food to share because everyone needs to eat.”

“It’s nice here.” You hum, stew poured into your bowl despite the curious glances from the people dishing out their food, “My home- well, people weren’t cruel, but we had to pay. And some people couldn’t.”

Bread and cheese are handed to you, and you let someone siphon a generous helping of shredded meat into your bowl. It looks delicious, but a smell wafting from the end of the makeshift assembly line has your eyes slamming shut as nausea roils suddenly in your gut.

“Oh no,” Hiccup mutters from behind you, nearly bumping into you where you’ve stopped dead at the smell, “Okay, uh, Astrid’s very... generous! And she likes to contribute to dinner, but some of her recipes aren’t always village favorites. Just- whatever it is, take some and thank her. Please? It’ll help your case.”

The stench is truly horrifying. You weren’t quite aware that anything besides a decaying corpse could produce such an odor, but whatever thick, chunky substance Astrid is pouring into mugs for everyone seems to be more than cadaverous.

“Oh, yaknog!” Hiccup laughs, his voice dead and his eyes despairing, “It’s not Snoggletog, Astrid.”

“I know it’s not,” She rolls her eyes, grinning all the while. She passes you your mug gruffer than she does anyone else’s, but you take it without spilling a drop, even if it makes your stomach churn and your delicious stew less appealing, “But everyone always drains their glasses, so I thought I’d make it as a summer treat.”

“Thank you,” You hum blankly, staring at the noxious substance actively curdling in your mug, and as soon as Hiccup takes his stein, he rushes off to a far corner of the hall to claim an empty bench.

“We can dump that.” Hiccup promises, setting his own cup halfway across the table like it might contaminate his other food, “She’s- we really do appreciate the thought she puts into making food, but…”

“Yaknog.” You nod, still pulling in breath after nauseating breath of the odor, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Here,” Hiccup glances at Astrid, finding her completely obstructed behind his father’s stocky form, “Quick, while she’s not looking.”

He takes both tankards, dumping them out into what looks like someone’s dirty pot. It blends in with whatever unusable scraps they’d left behind, and he slides it several feet away with the toe of his boot.

“Everyone does drain their glasses," He admits, grimacing, "We chuck it as soon as we get the chance. Just... tell her you liked it. She might stop threatening to kill you.”

“She’s very… spirited.” You continue your directive of ass-kissing, “Is she a part of your father’s council?”

“No, but she should be.” Hiccup digs into his stew, but your stomachache lingers, and you decide to give it a few more minutes before braving your meal, “She’s really smart. And she’s really strong. And she’s really good at scaring people off. Berk could probably use someone like her as Chief.”

“Are you next in line?” You ask, and you swear you see his face pale in the candlelight.

“Technically. It’s just- not really my thing.” He admits, “It’s complicated. But I think Astrid would do a better job than me.”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty smart,” You remember his journal, packed with pages and pages of blueprints and deductions, “And you’d have to be strong to fight off a dragon the size of a mountain. You two nearly scared me off,” You remind them, “But maybe she’s more like your dad.”

Hiccup nods, chewing through a bite of stew.

“That’s not a bad thing.” You add, conscious of the way his eyes have dimmed slightly, “Not being like your dad. I’m sure you are, in some ways. But that’s not the end-all be-all.”

He swallows and clears his throat, and you remember you’re not supposed to be there. You remember you’ve only set foot on Berk hours ago, and fall back into silence, still afraid to touch your meal.

“You know a lot about me,” Hiccup's eyes remain on his food as he tears into his bread, “Or, at least you think you do. And I still don’t know anything about you.”

“You don’t need to. And I’ll leave you alone.” You glance at your own bread, finding its bland flavor appealing to line your stomach with. You leave the cheese aside, but take a tentative bite of the bread, “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“If you’re gonna be staying here for more than a night, you’d be better off giving up,” He advises you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said we have stubbornness issues. You’re gonna be asked so many times that you’ll go crazy.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t stay for longer than a night, then.” You consider, “Maybe I’ve already botched my chances here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hiccup frowns, shifting in his seat, “You’re welcome to stay. I believe you. I… I trust you. It’s just- you have to trust us too.”

“Not- not yet.” You plead, fingers pinching the soft bread until it’s flattened, “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

You’re grateful when he shovels another spoon of stew into his mouth.

The bench shakes as someone sits down beside you, and your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t seen them coming- perhaps you’d been too embroiled in your own thoughts. It feels like there’s a target on your back- and maybe there is, but they don’t know the half of it.

“Something wrong with your stew?” A loud, brash voice comes from the man beside you, and Hiccup grumbles something surely offensive into his spoonful of dinner, “I can go get you another bowl if you want. Or- two bowls. Like, any amount. I can get you whatever you want.”

It’s a dark-haired man, a helmet on his head with horns that spiral and wind. They look intimidating, but his wide, dark eyes don’t, even if he’s trying very hard to make them by accompanying them with a dry smirk.

“This is Snotlout.” Hiccup nearly bites through his name, “And you can ignore pretty much anything he says, all the time.”

“You told me to ignore Astrid, too,” You glance at Hiccup from across the table, “Do you have any friends?”

You don’t mean for it to come out rude, more concerned, but Snotlout barks a laugh, “Not without us, he wouldn’t! He’s just jealous, ‘cause I’m better than him, and Astrid doesn’t like him anymore.”

“I am not jealous,” Hiccup argues, “Your name is Snot. Lout. You have the word snot in your name. I’m just trying to give Y/N a peaceful introduction to Berk, and neither of you are ever peaceful- like Fishlegs is! Fishlegs, sit.” Hiccup offers the blonde man a seat beside him, and you kiss your empty table goodbye once and for all. The man who sits across from Snotlout offers you a wary smile, hesitant but not unkind.

“Fishlegs is peaceful. Just endure Snotlout for one meal,” Hiccup offers, “And I’ll have Toothless burn through the seat of his pants when we leave.”

“Toothless would never do that to me,” Snotlout brags, but you watch the way one of his large hands curls into a fist on the tabletop.

“That’s true,” Hiccup muses, glancing sideways at Fishlegs who grins back, “Because Hookfang would have already done it for him.”

“You’re all jealous.” Snotlout declares, eyes narrowing from beneath his bushy brows and wild hair, “Because the bond that I have with Hooky is far greater than any dragon-rider bond you’ve ever seen before!”

Hiccup and Fishlegs share a glance that tells you Snotlout is speaking out of his ass.

“Do you have a dragon, Fishlegs?” You speak, diffusing the tension by keeping your voice that same timbre of politely interested that it’s been when speaking to anyone but Hiccup thus far.

“Yeah, she’s a gronckle.” Fishlegs nods, scooping meat onto his spoon. Your brows raise, and Hiccup swallows so that he can fill you in.

“Y/N’s never seen a dragon before.” Hiccup reveals, and both men share a startled glance that they don’t keep secret well enough, “A gronckle is- uh, a big boulder-class dragon. She’s super friendly, you should meet her next.”

“Hiccup, you shouldn’t call her big.” Fishlegs frowns, “She’s sensitive.”

“Fishlegs, she eats rocks! She’s- she’s a little tubby.” Hiccup groans, “All gronckles are.”

“I’m sure she’s gorgeous,” You conclude, and both men smile gratefully at you for the effort. 

You hope you’re doing enough ass-kissing.

“Yeah, well, Hookfang’s a little more impressive than a gronckle.” Snotlout brags, and you marvel at how you can really hear the narcissism in his tone of voice, “He’s a monstrous nightmare. Probably the most dangerous dragon out there. I tamed him though.”

“Neither of those things are true,” Hiccup glares at Snotlout, “Don’t worry about Hookfang, Y/N. The dragons have seemed to like you so far, and the only one who Hookfang ever has problems with is Snotlout, anyways. Plus, he’s nowhere near the most dangerous dragon out there.”

“There’s worse?” You ask, stomach now twisting for a different reason. You can’t possibly fathom a creature worse than one named a ‘monstrous nightmare’. Maybe you should leave Berk come morning.

“None that you’ll encounter.” Hiccup assures you, “And none that would hurt you even if they could.”

You’ll take his word for it, because you need to stop worrying or you’ll never eat.

You’re starved from nothing but rations on your boat, dried meats that hadn’t filled you the way you’d wanted them to, and bread you’d had to gorge on before it got moldy. You welcome the warm, steaming stew, and try to clear the smell of yaknog from your senses while eating.

It’s delicious stew, and you let the cheese get gooey on the bread before dragging it through the dregs in your bowl. Your almost non-stop nausea since departing from being rocked constantly by the waves had put you off of food, but you hadn’t realized just how much of a difference a hot meal could make until now. You wolf down the rest of your dinner, and Snotlout eyes you like he thinks you might tear into him next.

“Did you want another bowl?”

“No, thank you.” You straighten in your seat, your belly stiff, bloated and uncomfortable now that you’ve stuffed it for the first time in a week, “I shouldn’t overdo it.”

“You can have more later, if you want.” Hiccup smiles at you, stretching out in his own spot, “I’ll have them keep just the one fire going.”

“If the twins left any,” Fishlegs groans, “Here they come.”

All heads turn towards the pair of blondes headed your way, mid-squabble about who gets what spoon. They look identical to you- the spoons, not the twins - but you suppose siblings have to bicker about pointless things else they wouldn’t be close.

“-my spoon! I always take this one!”

“No you don’t,” The man practically roars at his sister, “This one doesn’t have a chip in the handle and yours is chipped from when I bit it.”

“I had to get a new spoon after you bit mine! It was giving me splinters. The new one's not chipped."

“Ruff, Tuff,” Hiccup tries, arms outstretched placatingly, but he nearly gets whacked on the head with a non-chipped spoon handle for his efforts, so he chooses instead to duck and cover.

“Fine. Then I want the one with the knot in the handle.” The man throws his spoon at his sister, smacking her square in the nose, “That one.”

He points to the spoon in your bowl, and seems to realize that he doesn’t recognize it’s user.

“Woah. Fresh face,” He notes, and his sister blinks owlishly at you from where she’s rubbing her stinging nose, “I’m Ruffnut.”

“No, I’m Ruffnut,” The woman scoffs, “He’s Tuffnut. The lesser twin.”

“Lesser? I’ll have you know, sister, that I’ve pranked more people than you have. That’s clearly not lesser.”

“You have not.” Ruffnut snarls, “You’re lesser because you have less of a brain.”

“Here’s the spoon.” You briefly rinse it with water from a jug on the table, wiping it dry with the hem of your tunic, “Please don’t start a food fight. I have to clean this hall later.”

“We heard you got a nasty punishment,” Tuffnut grins mischievously, “I think the last time this hall was cleaned, it was by fourteen-year-old Hiccup after he blew up the forge. There’s probably, like, spiders everywhere.”

You shoot Hiccup a concerned glance, but whether it’s more about his explosive tendencies or the Berk’s arachnid presence, you’re not sure. Either way, his ears flush red and you can’t see his cheeks because he hides behind another mouthful of stew, shoulders shielding his face as he hunches.

“I won’t throw anything.” Ruffnut promises, meeting your eye curiously, “But I can’t guarantee my brother won’t.”

“If I throw anything it’s gonna be at you, not at the wall.” Tuffnut grouses, kicking her beneath the table, “And I have, like, such good aim, it would never make a mess.”

“Your whole room is a mess.” Ruffnut scoffs.

Tuffnut yelps, “It’s your room too!” and you’re fairly certain that you’ll be scrubbing stew off of the walls hours from now.

“Guys.” Hiccup cuts in, his voice sterner now, “Guys!”

“What?” The twins shout in unison, brows furrowed as they seethe at the interruption.

“I have something for you two to blow up.” Hiccup pitches, and all at once it’s like they’ve been tranquilized. Their expressions relax, then kick up into pleasant grins.

“You’re speaking our language.” Tuffnut encourages, “So what is it? The hatchery? Mildew’s yard? Snotlout’s house?”

“We were already gonna do that,” Ruffnut shrugs, “But we can move our schedule around.”

Snotlout, who looks justly alarmed at this information, can’t get a word in before Hiccup continues.

“We need you to bomb Y/N’s boat.” He drags his journal out of a pocket on his pants, flipping to the appropriate pages, “And we also need you to not tell Astrid. Or my dad. Or- anyone, really.”

Tuffnut blinks awkwardly at you, a grimace twisting his features, “She’s not gonna be in the boat, is she?”

“No! Why would she-” Hiccup rears back, hands waving wildly, “Oh, whatever. No, she will not be in the boat when you two blow it up. My dad’s only offering her one night on Berk. And she needs more than that. We’re trying to make her a permanent resident, and he can’t send her away tomorrow if her boat’s in chunks throughout the coast.”

“I like where this is going,” Ruffnut nods, her voice gruff and enthusiastic, “And after we blow up her boat, everyone will flock to the ocean to see what happened. It’ll be the perfect time to strike Snotlout’s house!”

“Don’t blow up my house!” Snotlout shrieks, and Hiccup, for once, agrees with him.

“Don’t blow up Snotlout’s house.” 

“Fine.” Tuffnut grumbles.

“Whatever,” Ruffnut sighs into her hand.

“So just- in the morning, sneak out before my dad wakes up. Make sure there’s witnesses though- we don’t want anyone thinking Y/N was responsible. Barf and Belch can do their thing, it’ll be dismissed as one of your regular escapades, and Y/N can get comfortable here.”

Tuffnut’s face twists into a pleased smirk, “Oh, but Hiccup, Barf and Belch don’t have to do their thing.”

“Indeed they don’t,” Ruffnut chuckles sinisterly, “We have a better plan.”

“Introducing!” Tuffnut reaches for a bag resting on the seat beside him, a messenger that’s bulging from the inside, “Thorston Productions' newest invention: The Zippleblasts!”

He shakes the bag, and the flap opens, letting tens of round, metal objects fall to the floor. They scatter around the hall, rolling this way and that, and Ruffnut laughs again, “We made bombs.”

Hiccup’s eyes widen, and so do the rest of your tables’, “You made bombs?”

“We made bombs!” Tuffnut shouts, louder than the crowd, and the hall falls silent. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, and no one moves to pick up the explosives at their feet, frozen in fear. “Ruffnut got Barf to breathe a bunch of gas and I kept Belch asleep so he didn’t light it.”

“You made bombs.” Hiccup repeats, “And you brought them into the meade hall?”

“We wanted to show them off,” Ruffnut huffs, as if Hiccup’s the crazy one, “Plus, it’s just gas in there. They’d need fire to get them going.”

“Right, so you brought them to the communal oven.” Snotlout scoffs, warily eyeing the fires still blazing at the head of the hall, “Nice going, geniuses.”

“I-I’d like to take a look at your production process,” Hiccup’s tone is, frankly, terrified, “But that’s a problem for another day. Ruff, Tuff, pick those up and keep them away from any flames. They might be useful if we ever have to fight again, but let’s not tempt fate by carrying them around the village.”

“As you wish, wise leader.” Tuffnut stands to bow dramatically, “Sister! Retrieve the bombs.”

Ruffnut’s already scooping them up from where they’ve rolled off to, and she flings one at Tuffnut’s ankles. It hits bone, and he drops to the floor to clutch at the instantly reddening skin.

“Ow! Hiccup, she bombed me.” Tuffnut gripes, “Can’t you throw her out or something? You’re the son of the chief.”

“Stop throwing them!” Hiccup exclaims, “Tuffnut, help clean them up. Ruffnut, stop throwing them. Just- help. For once. Please.”

“He’s exaggerating.” Ruffnut pops up beneath the table by your feet, snagging one of the explosives that had rolled under your bench. One of the horns on her helmet nearly stabs you in the stomach and you fling an arm around yourself to protect it, “We help all the time. Which is why we can definitely help get you an extra-long vacation on Berk by-”

“By what?” Astrid’s piercing voice cuts through the amicable chatter, Ruffnut’s eyes widening as she snaps her mouth shut. Evidently she's done dishing out yaknog, and is now standing with her food at the head of your table looking entirely unimpressed.

“Nothing!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut declare in unison, physically incapable of sounding more suspicious. Ruffnut disappears beneath the table again, and Tuffnut decides that he has to check on his smarting ankle again, whistling faux-casually all the while.

“Right. Nothing.” Astrid huffs, slamming her own food onto the table beside Hiccup’s, shoving him to the side despite his yelp and squishing him between her and Fishlegs on the bench, “You two are always doing nothing.”

“Astrid, don’t you think you’re being a little rude?” Fishlegs questions, but he seems to regret it when her eyes flash dangerously.

“Have you forgotten what’s happened to us every time someone new shows up out of the blue? Heather tried stealing my dragon her first night on Berk. You really think I’m gonna hold Y/N’s hand and teach her the quickest escape route?”

“Heather was… complicated at first.” Hiccup admits, shoulders around his ears with the way he’s compressed between his friends, “But let’s just try to keep an open mind here. Y/N’s gonna do a fantastic job scrubbing the hall, and we’ll send her off with rations in the morning.”

“Yes, we will.” Astrid speaks through a mouthful of stew, lessening the bite that her tone could have had, “Whatever you're planning, Hiccup, drop it, now. And Ruffnut, Tuffnut?" The twins glance warily at her as she meets their gazes head on and steady, "Stay out of this.”

--

“So they’re gonna do it?” You ask, your knees aching and your palms smarting from the way you’ve been hunched on the floor for three hours, “They’re gonna blow my boat up tomorrow?”

“They’ll use one of their Zippleblasts, I guess,” Hiccup nods, his eyes widening as his shoulders heave with a sigh, “Don’t worry about Astrid. The twins are the only two people on Berk that won’t listen to her. They don’t listen to anyone.”

“They’re certainly entertaining,” You groan, straightening up to find Hiccup scrubbing his own portion of the hall, “You don’t have to help me, you know? I’m supposed to be doing this all myself.”

“I’ve scrubbed this hall a thousand times.” He admits with a sheepish grin, “I know what I’m doing, and I know how to do it. Besides, we can get it done in half the time. We’ll already be finishing late, I’m not going to leave you hanging all the way until morning.”

“I appreciate it.” Is all you can huff before hunching over again to get a stubborn stain out of the floorboards. One lone fire crackles beneath a pot of stew beside Hiccup, and you can’t wait until you’re finished cleaning and get to indulge in the stuff. It provides warmth, too, but mostly an enticing aroma that keeps you motivated to finish scrubbing.

“So,” Hiccup calls, “Now that we’re alone again, away from the prying eyes of the Berkians, is there anything you feel like sharing?”

“Nice try.” You don’t mean it, “How about instead, we talk about why you’re an expert at cleaning duty?”

“I got in trouble a lot as a kid,” Hiccup admits, shrugging his shoulders while soaping up the wood around the fire, “I’m- clumsy. And I’ve always been imaginative. And bold, I guess. So those were really a recipe for disaster.”

You grimace, “I can imagine. So, what, you blew up the forge every week?”

“No! Just three times.” He grumbles, “And there were a few other incidents, maybe, but hey! This seems completely unfair. You won’t answer any of my questions, but you want me to humiliate myself for entertainment?”

“Fine. I’ll stop asking.” You nod resolutely, tossing water on another expanse of the floor, “I just thought we could make conversation.”

“You can keep asking.” Hiccup offers, his voice suddenly pointed, “If I can get just one honest answer from you.”

“What?” You snap, irritated, shoulders hunched and aching, sweat beading at your brow.

“Were you being honest with my father when you told him whatever you're running from isn't going to disrupt Berk?”

You glance up at Hiccup, surprised by both the question and its tone, and you find him kneeling in your direction, sponge forgotten on the floor and fire illuminating his expression. It’s concerned, but resolute, his brow drawn low and his jaw set tight. He looks chiefly in this light. Like his dad.

“I was.” You promise, sincerely as you meet his eye, “It was- listen, whatever you’re thinking it was, it wasn’t that crazy. Just- they would have hated me. When they found out. It was something stupid I did, and they would have excommunicated me anyways, so I just got it over with and ran away myself. Just some silly, interpersonal drama, and that’s it. It won’t come to Berk.”

He nods once, his face softening in the firelight. 

“Good.” He rises to his feet, stumbling slightly with his prosthetic as he hobbles his way over to you on sore limbs, “I know what it's like, you know? Being a social outcast. You’re safe here,” You hear a clinking sound as his metal foot collides with something behind the table leg he walks past, “-and we’ll convince my dad to let you stay.”

“Hiccup.” Your eyes widen, and your stew-filled stomach drops down to your aching feet, “Bomb.”

“What?” His face scrunches in confusion, but at the sound of metal scraping wood, his eyes drop to find one of the twins’ stray, forgotten bombs rolling across the floor of the hall, beelining fast and true straight towards the only fire left in the hall.

Hiccup must have accidentally kicked it open, because a seal in the metal has come undone, leaking noxious green gas that kickstarts your fight or flight response. You’re on your feet in seconds, and you repeat yourself, shouting ‘Bomb!’ as you dash for the door.

“Run!” You scream, as if it might not have occurred to Hiccup. He’s already racing after you, the bomb too quick and close to the fire to stop, and as the blast sounds from behind you, you cross the threshold of what was once Berk’s great hall, but is now a pile of timber as the whole thing collapses.

You’re safe from the blast, but there’s smoke pouring from the building already. You trip and land on your knees outside of the hall's perimeter, and Toothless, who had been asleep outside, exhausted from the day’s patrol, jerks awake, his eyes wide and his ears alert.

“Toothless!” You exclaim, coughing as he bolts upright and rushes towards you, “I- I- It blew up! Hiccup, oh my god, are you okay- Hiccup?”

He’s not behind you.

You freeze, not for long, only for a split second, but long enough to realize that Hiccup hadn’t made it out. 

God, you hope he’s not dead. 

“Hiccup!” You cry, calling out into the wooden building already fully ablaze, itching to do something but faced with a roaring fire, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

There’s no answer. Toothless is already rearing back to shoot what’s presumably more fire out of his throat but you push his head aside, “No, no, no! More won’t help! Are you fireproof?”

He screeches angrily at you like you’re not very helpful and he can’t understand you, both of which are probably true.

An alarm bell rings, high up in the village as a watchman shouts, ‘Fire!’

Within seconds, villagers in their pajamas pour from their houses in alarm, and you’re already prying at fallen planks of wood to try to locate Hiccup. They’re scorched, some still on fire, and you hiss as the flames lick at your skin.

“Hiccup!” You shout again, and thundering footsteps appear behind you as you dig through the rubble you can get to, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

“Hiccup!” Stoick’s voice booms from behind you, “Hiccup’s in there?”

“He didn’t make it out,” You shout, tears beading in your eyes as you find a microscopic opening in the wood, “Help- help me! Help me find him!”

“Get out of the way,” Stoick shoves you aside, roughly enough to send you sprawling on the grass, “I knew you’d be trouble. Gobber! Help me get Hiccup.”

“I’m trying to help him! It wasn’t me!” You scream, and Toothless dashes forwards and picks you up by the neck of your tunic to run you around to what used to be the side of the building. There’s a larger opening there, not enough for a dragon to weasel through, but just barely big enough for you. It hasn't been engulfed in flames yet, but it will be soon. You don't have much time.

You dive in without a second thought- what do you have to lose?

The mass of broken wood is hot and still aflame, and you dodge the roaring fire as you scramble to find Hiccup amidst the carnage. You’re looking for a thick boot, a scruff of brown hair, a scaled shoulder pad, but what you manage to find is a leg, metal and glinting in the firelight.

“Hiccup!” You shriek, grabbing and pulling. To your horror, it slips right off of his body, leaving the most important parts of him still buried.

You groan and toss the metal behind you, digging further through the rubble to unbury him enough. You don’t mean to hit Toothless with the prosthetic, but it manages to alert him that you’ve found his rider, and he bashes a larger hole in the wood with his head to help you unearth Hiccup, thankfully not trying the fire-breathing approach anymore.

“I’ve got his leg!” You screech, your face ashen and sweaty as you fight through the fire, “Toothless, grab hold of his torso, and pull!”

To do this, Toothless retracts his teeth and practically swallows Hiccup’s head. He has to get a good grip on the man, for fear of injuring him without removing him, and you decide you’ll apologize for the spit in his hair after he wakes up.

If he wakes up.

His unconscious face is just as soot-covered as yours, but it’s quickly eclipsed by Toothless’s gummy maw, and you and the dragon work together to pry Hiccup out from the ruins of the hall. The fire blazes around you, and you feel the back of your tunic catch, but you use all of your energy to heave Hiccup out of the rubble before it’s too late.

When you smell fresh air again it’s because Toothless wraps his tail around your middle and helps compensate for your weakness. He drags Hiccup out by the torso and you out by your belly, grunting with exertion as he brings you both to safety away from the fire.

You’re coughing and your back hurts, but Toothless is slapping his tail against your tunic to put out the flames before you can think about dropping and rolling in the grass. It leaves you to worry about Hiccup, and you fall to your knees beside him.

“Hiccup?” You shout, grabbing his face and jostling it back and forth, “Hiccup!”

“Son!” Stoick’s voice reaches your ears again, and you feel the ground shake slightly as he parts the crowd to bound over to you both, “You found him.”

“He was buried,” You pant, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, “But he’s- I tried, I swear I tried to help-”

Stoick takes the boy from your arms and nestles his ear against Hiccup’s chest, eyes squeezed shut in a silent prayer.

“He’s alive!” Stoick shouts, eyes springing open, and tears of relief and adrenaline bead at your eyes, “He’s alive, he’s- he’s not-”

“Thank the gods.” You breathe, your chest heaving with a sob. 

“You.” Stoick grunts, gruff again, cradling his son protectively to his chest. Hiccup begins stirring, coughing the same way you are though his eyes remain closed. Stoick glances at your singed tunic, and the way blood is smeared up your arm from a jagged plank of broken wood, “Why’d you go in after him?”

“Because I didn’t set the fire,” You growl, panicking even though it’s miles away from the politeness you’d promised Hiccup, “It was them!”

You gesture roughly to Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who have shown up beside their two-headed dragon, which you’re sure is the aforementioned Barf and Belch.

Their eyes widen at the accusation, but they don’t deny it, “Uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see one of our bombs, have you? We counted when we got home and one was missing.”

Stoick’s eyes squeeze shut again, this time in exasperation. He clutches Hiccup tighter as the man rouses, eyes blinking open, arms trying to reach his face to rub smoke and ash out of his eyes. Stoick mutters, “Odin’s beard.” Then shouts, “Ruffnut! Tuffnut! Put out the fire. Then, you’ll rebuild the hall. Plank by plank. And I’m confiscating those bombs of yours.”

They protest, but it’s not meaningful- they’d blown up the great hall. They seem to know this and get to work without much fuss, grumbling instead of causing a scene as their dragon takes them all the way to Berk’s water reserves.

“I can-” You pant, fiddling awkwardly with your fingers as you come down from your adrenaline rush, “I can help rebuild it. If you want.”

“I suppose it wasn’t your fault.” Stoick eyes you with a narrowed gaze, peering down at Hiccup who’s barely conscious. He sits the man up against his chest, tipping his head back to open his airway, “Still. It doesn’t help your case that the village blows up the same day you get here.”

“I- I know, but,” You try explaining, but before you can get far a black-and-red tail crosses over your face, and you find yourself pulled backwards against Toothless’s side. The dragon leans his great head over your shoulder and chitters at Toothless, all sass and gruff grumbles.

“That’s rude.” Stoick grunts. “I don’t know what you’ve said to me, Toothless, but I know it’s rude.”

“He said,” Hiccup wheezes, his voice interrupted by a trembling cough as the twins return with water, dumping it over the flames, “That Y/N’s been nothing but helpful so far. She saved my life and it’s only fair that we save hers. He said we should let her stay.”

You’re fairly certain the dragon didn’t say that, but you appreciate both of their efforts anyways.

Stoick sighs deeply, glancing down at his weakened, frail son. Hiccup does look especially pitiful, and you’re sure that’s why Stoick heaves a great sigh, eyes flickering upwards towards you where Toothless is keeping you tightly held against him.

“Right. You did save my son’s life.” Stoick acknowledges, “And that means a great deal to me. You can stay. But-” He points a thick, accusatory finger at you, “Not unconditionally, and not forever. You earn your keep, you stay out of trouble, and we’ll find you someplace else to stay.”

“That’s all I ask.” You breathe, shoulders lifting as Stoick releases their burden, “I’ll work for my food and wherever I sleep. And I won’t cause trouble. I swear on my life. And- and thank you. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” Stoick meets your gaze, his eyes deep and soulful, Chiefly the same way Hiccup’s were a mere ten minutes ago as he clutches his son to his chest, “Don’t make me regret it.”

[p1eceandharmon1]

how they react after hurting you ┊ p1harmony (part 2)

fluff! (with a bit of angst!) ┊ gn!reader ┊ word count: 2197

ੈ♡˳ requested!

a/n: hii!! it took me longer than I expected to post part 2, but it's finally here!! andd I just realized that there are more than 200 people following my blog so I just wanted to take a moment to thank you guys so so so much, it means the world to me <3. I know it takes me a little while to post cause I always want to make sure that my works are as perfect as possible, so tysm for bearing with me. lastly, i have some more request in my inbox, so they will be coming soon!!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

➳ Intak ┊ 황인탁

It had been like that for a whole week already. Every single day, you only saw Intak late at night, when he came back home after his never-ending schedules of the day. Sometimes, he would sit on the couch, scrolling through his phone, or he would go directly to sleep, but in any of those cases would he say a word. You understood he had a lot of work, especially now that he was preparing for another promotion season and upcoming festivals, and it wasn’t surprising that his energy was completely drained. You decided it would be better to leave him some space, only wishing him a good night quietly when you went to bed.

It has never been this bad, though. Of course he has previously gone through periods of time when he was busier with work but it never made him build such a barrier between you two. It couldn’t be healthy for a person as energetic and affectionate as Intak to be this exhausted, and not to say distant — you were starting to miss your boyfriend so badly.

One day like any other, Intak came home when you were sitting in the living room, watching TV. He put his bag aside and came to sit next to you, letting out a tired sigh as soon as his body met the comfortable couch. He had his eyes closed as you took a look at his face and bit your lip, hesitating to initiate a conversation. “Did you have dinner?”, you asked carefully. He shook his head as a response. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”, you asked again. “No, I’m not hungry”.

You stayed silent for a bit, not daring to insist. Maybe it wasn’t the best moment to address the situation properly, even though you had been thinking about expressing your concern about him for days. You let go of this idea while looking at him, visibly tired. Instead, you decided to reach for his hand, hoping some physical contact would ease the atmosphere and bring him some comfort.

Just a second after your fingers touched his, he took his hand away and stood up abruptly, almost as if he had got a shock. “I’m going to bed”, he said, not making eye-contact. Your heart broke in pieces because of his rejection and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Wait!”, your voice was louder than you intended, but you didn’t care. “What the hell is wrong with you?”. He turned around, genuinely surprised by your reaction, only to find you on the verge of tears. “I get that you’re stressed but, is it really that difficult to talk to me? I’m tired of this silent treatment and I’m tired of feeling like a burden to you”.

The next thing you knew was that Intak was wrapping his arms around you, holding you against him like his life depended on it. “Please, don’t say that,” his voice was soft against your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I’m so sorry”. His sincere apology and his familiar scent finally surrounding you after so long made your tears fall silently and land on his T-shirt. You closed your eyes and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he kept caressing your back.

“I didn’t want to worry you with my issues but I ended up pushing you away. I didn’t realize I was hurting your feelings,” he continued. “Please, forgive me”. You pulled away enough to look at his face. “I forgive you. But, next time, you need to open up to me instead of holding it all in. That’s what I’m here for, you idiot”. He let out a chuckle before kissing your forehead and pulling you back into a hug. “Yes ma’am. I will”.

➳ Soul ┊ 白翔太

You were on the bus, on your way back home after a long day of work, only wanting to be surrounded by the warmth of your apartment where Shota was supposed to be waiting for you. He had just returned from the group’s overseas tour, so you had agreed on having a little cosy at-home date. He wanted to prepare a little surprise for you since you two hadn’t been able to have a proper date for the couple of months he’d been away, so he had ordered some food from your favorite place and picked a movie to watch while cuddling.

You were only one bus stop away from yours when a notification popped on your phone screen. It was from P1Harmony’s official social media account, so you unlocked your phone, suddenly curious about what it was about. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the post, which was announcing the group’s new tour starting next month. You shook your head, refusing to believe that. You checked again, hoping that it was only a fan account, but that wasn’t the case. You scrolled a bit more only to see the fans’ reactions to the announcement, which confirmed that the tour was in fact going to take place.

You got off the bus, millions of thoughts running through your head. You first thought about how crazy it was for the company to send the boys again on tour when they had just returned from their previous one. It hurt so much to think that you had been waiting for so long to finally have your boyfriend back only for them to send him away this soon. But then, you thought about Shota. He must have known about this, and you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t said a word to you. You felt betrayed and disappointed that he chose not to let you know, as if it had nothing to do with you. Looking for a good reason for him not to share this important information, you totally forgot he was waiting for you at home.

You unlocked the front door with tears gathering in your eyes due to the sudden and overwhelming flow of feelings, and once you entered, you heard Shota’s voice behind you. “Hi, love. How was today?”. You heard his steps, indicating he was approaching you. You turned around and he was smiling sweetly at you, but that smile faded as soon as he noticed your expression. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”.

You didn’t answer. You let your bag fall to the ground, not caring a bit about it, and took out your phone to show him the tour announcement you saw. “Would you mind explaining this?”. Shota went pale at the sight of the post. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I…”, he tried to apologize but you cut him off. “When were you gonna tell me that you’re going away again?”, you asked in a cold tone. “I was waiting for the right moment”, he said, his voice almost a whisper. “And when is that? When you’re already on the plane?” your voice cracked. “I just got you back, Shota”, you couldn’t keep on talking, or else the tears would fall.

He took a step closer to you, starting to realize the mistake he had made, but you stepped away from him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, and that’s when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “I was going to, really. I just… I wanted to spend some more time with you without worrying about the distance again. I didn’t expect the announcement to be released this soon…”, he explained.

Shota reached out his hand to wipe one of your tears away and, seeing that this time you didn’t reject him, he came closer to wrap his arms around you, holding you impossibly close to him. “I’m sorry I’m leaving. But this time is not going to be for so long”. You shook your head. “It wasn’t that what bothered me. I want you to tell me this type of things. I never want to find out about stuff like this through social media again, okay?”.

“You’re right. It won’t happen again”, he promised and kept on holding you, pressing a kiss to your hair to seal the promise.

➳ Jongseob ┊ 김종섭

You’ve been insisting to Jongseob about how bad his room needed a makeover since the boys moved dorms and they didn’t have to share rooms anymore. Now, he had full freedom to choose his own furniture and decorations, although he found it kind of overwhelming. However, with your help, he had spent a couple of days buying his new items online, and they had finally arrived.

You came over to Jongseob’s place on his day off, when he had planned to rearrange his room. “I told you, you didn’t have to come,” he said as you two were taking the boxes into his room. “It’s a lot of work and it’s your free day”. “I don’t mind, really. It’s gonna be fun. Plus, I wanted to see you today”, you smiled at him and he returned the gesture, not able to hide his blush.

You placed the heavy box down, the one containing the pieces of the desk you were supposed to build. Jongseob had already taken the old desk outside, so now you had plenty of space to start figuring out how to build the new one. It was actually very entertaining to follow all the steps, even though it was taking you longer than normal due to lots of shared laughs and maybe some kisses.

To be honest, you were finding it a bit hard to do some things because, just the day before, you had gone to get your nails done — you had opted for longer nails this time, so you were still getting used to them. Jongseob laughed loudly when he saw how much you were struggling to pick a screw up from the ground, and he still had a grin on his face when he grabbed it for you. “Your claws are bothering you?”, he teased and you scoffed loudly at him. “Don’t you dare call my nails ‘claws’ ever again. They’re not that long”, you tried reaching for the screw Jongseob was holding but he kept taking it away, holding it above his head so you couldn’t grab it. “Sure they’re not”, he kept on teasing while you two laughed at your attempts to catch the screw. You literally had to get on top of him to reach the little piece of metal, not that he complained.

You finished building the new desk and now it was time to move it from the middle of the room towards the wall. It was actually heavier than you thought so it took the two of you to do it, slightly lifting each edge so it didn’t scrap the floor. It was almost there when Jongseob moved to the front to give it one last strong push, not noticing that your hand was still between the desk and the wall.

You felt an awfully intense pain coming from one of your fingers, which caused a yelp to slip from your lips. You didn’t even look at your hand, you just hugged it to your chest and fell to your knees without even noticing it. You had to close your eyes because the room was starting to spin around you. “Oh my God, are you okay?”, you felt Jongseob kneeling down beside you. You could feel his distress without even seeing his face.

You took a deep breath as you opened your eyes to take a look at your hand. One of your nails was broken in half way below the tip of your finger, but one of the edges was still attached to the remaining acrylic material. The sensitive flesh below the nail was now fully exposed, making you see stars and, to add insult to injury, it was starting to bleed like crazy.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer the question, but you didn’t need to — Jongseob was already wrapping an arm securely around your waist to help you stand back up and lead you to the bathroom. Once you were there, he carefully grabbed your injured hand to take a closer look at it. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault”, he didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “Don’t say that, it was an accident”, you reassured him as you placed your other hand on top of his.

He didn’t say anything back, he just grabbed a soft tissue to wipe away some of the blood, paying attention to your face so he would know when to stop if it was hurting you in any way. “I think it would be better if you put a band-aid around the nail so it doesn’t move. I’ll go with you to the nail tech tomorrow”, he said as he carefully put the band-aid on your finger. Then, he grabbed both of your hands and finally met your eyes. “I still feel so guilty”. You smiled and wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him into a hug. “I told you it’s fine. These things happen so stop overthinking”, you felt his shoulders relax a bit. “But you’re the one paying for the fixing”, you joked, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[mcsm-multiverse-wreckage]

MCSM: MULTIVERSE WRECKAGE

Welcome to a project I've been planning on doing for a while!

INFORMATION

In this project, Jesse and her crew go through different universes to stop PAMA and the chipped people from taking over the multiverse, making everyone and everything... "useful".

You might be wondering... "Where do I come in to play"? Well, dear fans of MCSM... You get to send universes in through the inbox! If you don't want to send any universes through the inbox, reblogging or commenting would do just fine! ^^

This will probably last for a decent amount of time just as long new universes keep kicking in here and there, so buckle in for the ride!

Jesse still has her phone with her, so you can ask her and the people currently with her questions about everything going on with the MCSM multiverse at this roleplay account: @local-hero-in-residence

UNIVERSE IDEAS INFORMATION AND RULES

Anyone is allowed to send in a universe idea!

Please make sure you give me some sort of important information about the universe you send in.

For people who send in a universe without a roleplay blog, you can either roleplay it out with me or I will act it out all on my own.

For people who have a roleplay blog, it will be a lot more easier if you roleplay it out with me, but you don't have to if you don't want to. Also, make sure you give me a way to get to your roleplay blog.

OCs that are MCSM related are allowed!

ALL ROLEPLAYS WILL BE THROUGH ASKS OR REBLOGS, NO MESSAGES BECAUSE THIS IS INCLUDING EVERYONE.

ALSO, I WILL BE DOING A UNIVERSE ONE AT A TIME UNTIL EACH ONE IS FINISHED SO NOTHING GETS MIXED UP OR CONFUSED.

FOUR rules for the universe ideas:

No NSFW... At all.

If you're taking an idea from someone else, please make sure to credit them. <3

Obviously it must be MCSM related. Anything that isn't related to MCSM will not be allowed.

You can roleplay as more than one character when it's your universe's turn! No signature required.

SIGNATURES

Use these signatures to give me an idea on how everything will go down with your universe idea. You can use more than one signature, but only one in each category.

In each category, you are required to choose one.

Category 1

🟩 - PAMA hasn't reached this universe yet.

🟥 - PAMA has reached this universe.

Category 2

❔ - Someone who doesn't have a roleplay blog.

🤡 - Someone who has a roleplay blog.

Category 3

🪶 - Someone who will roleplay through asks and reblogs.

📖 - Someone who will not roleplay through asks and reblogs.

POSTS TO GET YOU CAUGHT UP (HIGHLYRECOMMENDED)

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

PART 9

PART 10

PART 11

PART 12

PART 13

PART 14

PART 15

PART 16

PART 17

PART 18

PART 19

PART 20

[buried-in-stardust]

hope you've been having fun in taiwan!! i'll be going there soon too, right when it's gonna be super hot LOL do you mayhaps have some recs on places to check out in taipei? or anywhere, really, our itinerary isn't fully set yet haha.

I haven't been checking my inbox so chances are you've already gone on the trip--sorry!

Some places I'd rec:

Night markets! I go to Tonghua the most because that one is closest to me, but Shilin and Raohe are really good too! I hear people say not to go to Shilin, but I think it's fine if you're only getting the food. It's the other stuff like clothing that's more of a rip-off. Also the paths at Raohe are really narrow, so avoid going on weekends. I still like Tonghua the best, and not just because it's closest, but because it's one of Taipei's larger night markets with plenty of variety, but it's never too crowded, even on weekends.

Maokong! If you like tea this is a must-go. Test-taste the tea, get tieguanyin tea ice cream, get tea infused food and specialty tea at a teahouse and while enjoying the view, learn the art of tea making, and buy tea directly from the farmers. You can walk through the tea farms, and it's a good place for hiking too.

Maokong gondola: The Maokong tea farms are at the top, but along the way there's Taipei Zoo and Zhinan Temple, both of which are worth visiting, I think. Taking the gondola is more fun than taking the bus, lol.

Not really in Taipei, but Tamsui is really nice. Walk along the old street, get their specialty ageh (阿給), iron eggs, fish crisps and fish ball soup, take the ferry across to Bali, bike along the river, and watch the sunset. I'd also recommend the castella cake here.

Huashan 1914 Creative Park has many arts and crafts exhibitons, shops, and performances. Lots of cool stuff to see if you like art, and nice to just walk around too.

Hot Thermal Valley and the nearby Beitou Hot Spring Museum. It's a cool scenic spot, and there's some interesting history behind the hot springs (I went with my aunt and she kept saying it looked exactly like what she used as a child: the tatami, bathhouse, etc.)

TBH I think pretty much everyone will recommend these places lol. Also I haven't been to Datong or Wanhua like at all, so I don't have any recommendations for either of those districts, although I'm planning to visit over the next few days before I go to Penghu.

If anyone wants some more specific (food) recommendations for these places, feel free to ask!

[erinarigby]

Can you give is a step by step on how you made that Paul photocard? Would love to recreate

get top loaders and penny sleeves, you can buy these on amazon and probably find them in stores too

for the photo card itself i just print out the picture i want and to give it more strength i tape it on top of cardstock, i round the corners with this paper corner rounder from amazon

for stickers you can get these anywhere, i’ve collected mine online and from stores

place them however you want (you can on pinterest for inspiration and search up photocard deco) and you have your own beatle photo card!

[mondaymelon]

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNN.

ur wanderer theme made me remember this <3333 i know u r downbad, blushing, screaming, dying, choking af rn ur welcome for the wanderer fanservice 😋����

lily what happened. lily please i thought. i thought. i thought we were friends lily.

did i do something wrong. did i do something to upset you ? for what reason have you decided to... uhm... put these lovely things in my inbox?

listen lily. its not too late to repent. its not too late to acknowledge your sins and turn back from this horrid path youre walking on.

all... all i forsee... is your terrible, terrible, misfortune.,.

ooOOoOooo ghost noises OoOOoOoOoOoOoOo

[mad-hunts]

☎ -Violet!!

phone contact meme!

contact name: mon rêve 💕 ('my dream' in french, which is a nickname that i couldn't resist once i thought of it because barton calling violet his 'dream' as in she's everything he could wish for and more? its way too darn sweet in my opinion 😭)

contact picture:

(IDK why i chose this one besides that the vibes behind this drawing were IMMACULATE and it just screamed 'them' to me because they would do something precious like this <33 so yeah haha)

ringtone: you make loving fun — fleetwood mac (i chose this one for UHHH. obvious reasons, as its very romantic in my opinion, okok lol)

the most recent phone call between our muses, and how long it was: the last time that both barton and violet were on the phone, he called them as he was heading over to their house as they agreed to hang out that day, but he was running a few minutes late (and i swear this was not for a bad reason so just bear with me here for a second, please. bear with me SKSKS).

the reason behind this was that he was making some last minute touches on the bouquet of flowers he was going to surprise her with, though he lost track of time, but on the bright side... violet got gifted a very pretty bouquet of red roses (: this phone call lasted about 5 minutes, because that was the extra amount of time it took barton to get to violet's home.

the three most recently sent messages from my muse to yours:

1. 'hey, honey! i just wanted to thank you again for coming with me to that doctor's appointment the other day. i mean, i knew that nothing had probably changed with my heart, but' 2. 'it means a lot to me anyhow. i was just a bit nervous because it had been so long since i'd last been to the heart doctor, you know?' 3. 'yeahhh, i know. i've got to get on a more consistent schedule when it comes to taking my meds... its just easy for me to forget sometimes. but it helps having you around to remind me, my dashing knight in shining armor (;'

[reidrum]

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never���“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3 

[luvstappen]

pairing: oscar piastri x fewtrell!reader

summary: “have my back, yeah, every day”

warnings: SMAU (no written parts), swearing, mature themes, a lot of (really really bad, sorry in advance) sex jokes, use of y/n

previous part | masterlist

a/n: so we’re at the end! i genuinely don’t have the words to express how grateful i am for every single one of you who’s read, reblogged, screamed in my inbox, or just quietly followed along <3 thank you for trusting the process (even when things felt messy or uncertain) and for letting these characters live in your hearts for a while. i’m so lucky to have you here 💌

a/n2: if you’re wondering what’s next: the upcoming smau series, arriving in a few weeks/months, will be about lando and it’ll be a loose continuation of this story :) lando girlies it’s not over yet!!!

liked by oscarpiastri and others

ynfewtrell just a girl, her flowers, and her highly unqualified feline chauffeur 🐾🚗💐

view all comments

oscarpiastri 🧡

ynfewtrell 💋

user2 my favourite wag fr

user3 can oscar fight?

maxfewtrell Against who? The cat?

user4 OSCAR JUNIOR IS SO BIG WHAT

ynfewtrell they grow up so fast 😢

user5 HE CAN DRIVE??????

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

liked by ynfewtrell and 450,338 others

oscarpiastri Think there were a few sore heads after this weekend

view all comments

ynfewtrell WIRLF CHAMPBSNS

oscarpiastri Thank you!

user6 congrats on the championship ❤️‍🔥

user7 Y/N and her wag

mclaren Hey, champ 👋

user8 y/n in papaya 🧡

user9 he looks so happy 🥹

luvstappen a big thanks to l4ndoflove for the idea, mwah 💋

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

liked by oscarpiastri and others

ynfewtrell happy friendiversary to my emotional support australian 🐨 thanks for carrying me home, laughing at my terrible jokes, and never once making me feel crazy for being the exact kind of person i am. i love you 💕

view all comments

oscarpiastri I love you too ❤️

ynfewtrell 💗💓💘💖💕🩷🥰😘😇

maxfewtrell Cringeversary

ynfewtrell that one’s celebrated on your birthday fym

user10 OMG I THOUGHT THEY WERE DATING????

user11 they are! oscar said in an interview once that y/n is also his best friend :)

user12 i’m not okay they are my parents

gigihart you're welcome btw ❣️

ynfewtrell 🫡

nicolepiastri Cuties 😘

ynfewtrell 💗

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

liked by ynfewtrell and 469,163 others

oscarpiastri Second season done and dusted with plenty of smiles along the way. So grateful for all the support

view all comments

ynfewtrell thank you for the backshot 🧡 comment has been deleted

user what a season!!! 😍

user i know we’re all here because of y/n’s comment

user it’s deleted now :(

user future world champion 🗣

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★

previous part | masterlist

★・・・★・・・★

a/n3: the summary should’ve been “have my back(shots), yeah, every day” OK I’LL STOP—

★・・・★・・・★

TAGLIST: @harrysdimple05 @milkysoop @charlesgirl16 @wosof1 @illicitverstappen @back-on-my-bullsh @revrse @skepvids @screamingwines @a-beaverhausen @l-vroom4 @wildflowerhuggy @meglouise00 @formulaal @smithieandy @sltwins @awritingtree @colmathgames2 @org12 @alice-went-away @grovelingmen @taasgirl @anotherapollokid @d3kstar @gnarlycore @leclercdream @skeleton-elly @verstappensrealwife @seonghwaexile @hellowgoodbye @samantha-chicago @delululeclerc @5sospenguinqueen @riverxsq @s0meth1ngs @silentreader128 @cheer-bear-go-vroom @sarahsobsession @raweceekk @willowsnook @nxlx96 @saythename-sm @lesliiieeeee @landopoet @blushmimi @neferaskingdom @oikarma @mayax2o07 @obxstiles @speeedybaby

[chow0w]

Could I add pineapple to the rainwing request roster?? Jambu needs his boyfriend <3

also omg your work is absolutely stunning- have you thought about doing artfight?

Ofc! Thank you so much - your question actually reminded me to do an artfight post so everyone has my link!

Here's my take on pineapple! This was definitely one of the more difficult redesigns and I'm not really sure why, but I think it might have been because I was really struggling to put the pineapple zigzag pattern in. I ended up ignoring a little bit of Pineapple's canon color scheme (the pinks and oranges) in favor of full fruit representation, mostly because I took the name and ran with it while sketching this out. The wiki describes him as bigger and heavier than Luna, which would be more helpful if Luna were not described as 'smaller and lighter than Pineapple.' Thanks guys. (I ended up going for something I think would be in the middle, where he has bigger muscles but a relatively small and long body.)

I don't have much else to say on this redesign, outside of noting the pineapple leaf-shaped frills and tail frill, as well as the blue/pink eyes meant to mimic Jambu's color scheme. Pineapple is such a cutie pie and I love him!! I enjoy their couple dynamic a lot, but I will say Pinebu isn't really my favorite queer ship. I think it might be a tie between Snowlynx, moonjou or qwinter.

Thank you all for following along with this series! If you'd like to add your favorite WoF character to the waitlist, head to my inbox or check my pinned post and see if I already have them! And I know everyone has heard this already, but I am hosting an art contest until the end of June! The challenge is to draw a scene from any WoF book/Gn, and the prizes include cash and/or free comms! You can join and submit here, in my discord server!

later (/▿＼ )

[wordsmeetwbb]

Mine, Forever

Word count: 5.1k (everybody cheer)

Content: smut (choking, strap, degradation, possessive!Paige, sub!Azzi, actually one of the filthiest things i've ever written)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: I got tagged in this post a while ago and had to write it. it's actually filthy. please give me all the reactions in my inbox, they feed me. sorry for the wait lol

________

Warmups are still going on when Azzi takes her courtside seat at College Park Center. Paige doesn’t see her immediately, too focused on shooting free throw after methodical free throw. It’s not until the commotion from fans forming a line to take pictures with Azzi grows loud enough to reach the court that Paige glances over.

Her eyes flick over for only half a second before focusing back in on the rim and beginning the action of letting the ball fly forward off her fingertips, but by the time she’s in motion, her brain has registered the scene to her right. Paige’s eyes dart back to the stands as the ball leaves her hands. The ball barely makes it halfway to the basket before thudding against the floor, but Paige isn’t watching the airball. Her legs are carrying her towards the courtside seats where Azzi is now surrounded by fans before Paige even realizes what’s happening.

“P! Get over here!” Arike’s yell snaps Paige out of her trance, but not before her eyes catch on Azzi’s outfit.

Her hair is half up and half down with those four little braids and the slut strands that Paige loves. She’s in a low-waisted jean skirt, way too short to be appropriate and definitely shorter than anything Paige knew Azzi owned. And the shirt. Azzi is wearing a white Dallas Wings jersey with a number 5 on the front, and Paige knows what that means. It means her name is printed on the back of the jersey, on Azzi’s lower back, right above her ass, for everyone to see.

Azzi turns around right as Paige is managing to pry her eyes back to her teammates, and her vision snags on the word. Bueckers. In bold, dark blue ink, advertising her name to everyone in the arena. It fills Paige with a sickly sweet feeling of satisfaction, spreading through her limbs like honey.

“Paige!” It’s an assistant coach who yells at her this time, demanding Paige’s attention on some drill or another that she really couldn’t care less about at the moment. But as much as she wants to look at Azzi all day, stare at her jersey draped over the younger girl’s muscular frame, she knows she has a job to do.

Halfway through the first quarter, Paige and Arike are both on the bench, being given a breather while the Wings have a little bit of a lead over Chicago. It doesn’t take long for Arike to lean over and bump Paige’s shoulder with her own, a grin stretched from ear to ear across her face.

“Damn, you got your girl out here wearing your jersey during pride month? Is this the hard launch?” She teases. Paige doesn’t even have it in herself to blush. All she feels is pride, rushing through her bloodstream with an undercurrent of possession.

“I didn’t even know she was comin’ tonight, to be honest,” Paige mumbles, briefly glancing over to Azzi in her seat across the court, legs crossed carefully at the knee in a way that makes her skirt ride up. She’s finally been left alone by the fans and is scrolling on her phone, seemingly disinterested in the game in front of her.

“She hard launched by herself! Ouch, P. She really said if you’re not gonna do it, she will,” Arike laughs. Nalyssa leans over from Arike’s other side, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Nai owes me 20 bucks,” she quips. Paige raises an eyebrow.

“Y’all took bets on whether we’d hard launch?” Arike stifles a laugh behind her hand, and Nalyssa grins.

“Nah. The bet was for when y’all would launch. Nai said two weeks. I gave it a month. I win.” Arike holds up a hand in Nalyssa’s face, cutting her off.

“Wait, wait, wait. This is week three, so you’re not right either,” she argues. Paige’s eyes switch back and forth between her teammates, half forgetting that this debate is about her relationship.

“Winner is whoever is closest without going over,” Lyss says with a shrug.

“Hollup, I don’t think it counts as a launch if I wasn’t involved. This is just Az,” Paige defends. Arike’s eyebrows scrunch together, her face a perfect mask of disbelief.

“Girl, whose jersey is that? I don’t see my name on there, do you? Who’s Little Miss Hard Launch launching with, huh?” Arike taunts. Paige shrugs.

“Aight. That’s me. That’s my name,” she concedes. “Wearing my damn name,” she mumbles again, more to herself than her teammates. Lyss barks out a laugh.

“Keep it in your pants, P. Still got three quarters left,” Arike warns, but her voice is light and a smile curves the corners of her lips.

________

The rest of the game is torture. Slow, painful, beautiful, teasing torture. Paige plays 31 minutes. The other nine minutes are spent staring longingly across the court at her girlfriend, wishing the game could just end in a way that kind of makes her ashamed. But then she focuses on Azzi again, on the way her curls brush the tops of her shoulders, on the number 5 displayed proudly on her chest, and she stops feeling bad about her sudden hatred for how long basketball games are.

Arike only calls her out for staring twice, and Paige actually thanks the woman for it when the game finally ends and they’re all heading back to the locker room. She’s walking fast, as if she doesn’t have to go sit at a table with Chris and Myisha for too long for post-game press anyway. As if walking faster now will get her to Azzi any sooner.

To Paige’s surprise, her speedwalking actually does accomplish her intended goal. Azzi is waiting inside the tunnel, tucked into a back corner near the door to the locker room. Her skirt is high on her thighs, and now that she’s not covered by a row of seats, Paige can clearly see the muscles of her calves, highlighted by smooth, tan skin. She licks her lips, swallows hard, and slows as she approaches.

“You tryna break the internet with your lil outfit there, ma?” Paige murmurs as she stops in front of Azzi. There’s not enough space between them, not anywhere close to a friendly distance separating their bodies. Paige can feel Azzi’s warmth radiating through the air and settling into her skin.

“Not the internet. Just trying to break you,” Azzi replies. Paige’s eyes wander down the younger girl’s frame, catching on the smooth skin of her biceps first, then the belly piercing glinting above the waistband on her denim skirt, then the strong expanse of her thighs, before she drags her gaze back up.

“And the hard launch was just a bonus?” Paige shoots back. Azzi shrugs, a smirk curving the corners of her mouth up.

“You say that like you don’t want everybody to know I’m yours anyway.”

That does it for Paige. Her hands are on Azzi in a heartbeat, grabbing her wrists with sweaty hands, veins still prominent from the exertion of the game. It doesn’t take long at all to drag Azzi into the locker room, which is miraculously still empty, and into the bathroom at the back, pressing her up against one of the shower stall doors and locking it swiftly.

Paige’s hands are still wrapped around Azzi’s wrists, so she pins the younger girl’s arms to the wall, squeezing just a little as she does so. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to make her feel a little discomfort.

“You knew what you were doin’ in my jersey. This ain’t for nobody else, is it ma?” Azzi looks up at Paige, eyes big and dark, shadows falling across her face from the dim lighting in the shower. “Nah, this is for you. You wanna show up to my game without telling me in my jersey and that sorry fucking excuse for a skirt and think I won’t fuck you about it? You’re smart, Azzi. Don’t lie and say this was for everybody else to know you’re mine,” Paige murmurs. Her voice is low and dark, a little scratchy from yelling during the game and maybe from something else.

Azzi shakes her head, still denying it. Paige switches to pin both of Azzi’s wrists above her head and brings her free hand up to the perfect, unblemished skin of her throat. Her hand circles it, fingers resting on the sides of her neck. Azzi’s pulse drums against Paige’s thumb. Paige presses in just a little bit, teasing more than anything, but Azzi gasps as her head tips back to rest against the tiled wall of the shower.

“Fucking slut. Wanted to show yourself off, huh? Show off who you belong to?” Azzi nods quickly, desperately. Her mouth is open slightly, and she’s breathing heavily. Paige’s focus draws down to her lips, and before she even decides to do it, she’s kissing Azzi.

It’s not gentle, or loving, or careful. Their teeth clash when Azzi opens her mouth, and when Paige licks into Azzi’s mouth, the younger girl lets her teeth nip. It makes Paige groan, soothing the sting by licking further into Azzi’s mouth, tasting peppermint and vanilla.

Paige pulls away for a moment to pant– “You want it? Want me to fuck you right here in the bathroom like the whore you are?” –and it’s all Azzi can do to nod desperately again like she doesn’t remember how to form words. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, Paige’s chest fills with frustration.

She moves the hand on Azzi’s neck up slightly so her fingers grip Azzi’s jaw, squeezing tightly. Azzi’s mouth falls open as she breathes, jaw forced wide by Paige’s grip.

“No. Tell me. I haven’t even touched you yet. You can be so dumb already that you can’t talk, so be a good girl and use your words.”

That pulls a pathetic little noise from Azzi’s throat, as she scrambles to form a sentence. All she manages is a few words at a time, though.

“Please, Paige. Fuck me, please. Right here, right now, need it.” She’s throbbing between her legs, thighs pressed together tightly to try to relieve the ache, but it’s not working. The other thing that helps is when Paige shoves her legs apart and one of her hands immediately darts under her skirt, pulls her panties to the side, and slides through the wetness she finds there.

“Fuck, baby. So needy, and from what? My hands on your throat? Fucking pathetic,” Paige spits out. Azzi whines, hips bucking forward to try to get Paige to slip a finger in. Usually, that would send Paige into a rant about asking for what she wants, not doing anything without permission, and all the other things Azzi knew but rarely had the patience to comply with.

Paige must need it as bad as Azzi does, though, because she just shoves two fingers in at once, fucking in and out of her sopping cunt as Azzi clenches around her in an effort to adjust.

“Shit, so good P, ah.”

“I’m giving you what you want. What do you say to me, Az?” Paige taunts. Azzi replies on instinct alone.

“Thank you, thank you.” Paige grins, the expression cocky and satisfied. It’s the face of a woman who knows she has all the power. Just looking at the blonde forces another moan out of Azzi’s mouth. Her hips are moving of their own accord now, grinding against Paige’s hand while she thrusts in and out.

The sloppy sounds coming from between Azzi’s legs are absolutely sinful, but they’re both so needy they can’t even find the headspace to be embarrassed about it. That is, until somebody bangs on the door of the shower.

“Dude! Y’all are fucking disgusting, please get out of the locker room.” It’s Lyss’s voice, and the horror is clear in her tone even through the door. “Nobody wants to hear your freaky ass sex life. For the love of god, man…” Her voice trails off as she walks away, but Paige and Azzi are both still frozen against the shower wall.

Paige shifts on her feet slightly, which jostles the position of her fingers inside Azzi. Azzi groans and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Please take your fingers out of me and then shoot me. I’m serious,” she mutters. Paige barks out a laugh, even though her cheeks are still glowing. She does slide her fingers out, though, patting Azzi on the hip lightly to steady her as she tugs her panties back into place.

“Shit, I’m never gonna hear the end of this,” Paige says. Her voice is quiet, but still low and rough from arousal. Azzi closes her eyes and tries to get her body under control.

“Can we just hide in here forever? So I never have to see any of your teammates ever again in my life?” Azzi asks weakly. Paige’s face softens, and she brings her clean hand up to cup Azzi’s jaw.

“Hey, I got you. You’re mine, right? I’m gonna take care of you. Nobody here is gonna say anything, I swear.” Azzi looks at her skeptically until Paige holds out a hand, pinky up and curved. “Pinky promise?” A small smile slips onto Azzi’s face as she nods, hooking her pinky with Paige’s.

________

True to her word, Paige gets Azzi out of the locker room incident-free. She unfortunately doesn’t manage to talk her way out of doing post-game press. So it’s late when Paige finally makes her way back to Azzi, who has been waiting in the hallway outside the locker room since she escaped an hour ago.

Paige is freshly showered, blonde hair hanging wet around her shoulders, dressed in a lavender Nike sweatsuit. It’s a good color on her, but Azzi is a little frustrated that more of her skin isn’t showing. She’s half naked in her miniskirt and Paige’s jersey tucked into her bra to crop it, and in a moment of insecurity, she tugs the jersey free.

The fabric is a little crumpled as it falls, hiding the tan skin of her stomach and the belly piercing Paige loves so much, but Azzi immediately feels better.

“You comin’ back with me?” Paige confirms. Azzi nods, and they start to make their way to Paige’s car.

The entire drive to Paige’s apartment is tense. The air feels too thick, Paige keeps looking over at the skin of Azzi’s legs on display in the passenger seat, and the glances are making Azzi’s blood heat quickly. She shifts in her seat, pressing her thighs together. She never truly calmed down from earlier if she’s honest, even after being interrupted and embarrassed. She can already feel herself soaking through her underwear, probably getting the leather seat of Paige’s car wet, and somehow that just makes her feel hotter.

Paige notices, because of course she does, but all she does is settle her right hand onto Azzi’s upper thigh, fingers curving in dangerously, but she doesn’t move. She brushes her thumb over the smooth skin on the top of Azzi’s thigh, but her fingers that are so close to where Azzi is throbbing and needy stay disappointingly still. They don’t talk about it, though. Paige just reaches over and turns the music up.

By the time they actually enter Paige’s apartment, Azzi is dripping through her panties and down her thigh. The sound of Paige locking the door clicks behind her, and it snaps something inside the younger girl. She spins, pushing Paige up against the door and kissing her hard.

Paige doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, sliding her tongue into Azzi’s mouth and dragging a hand over her waist and hip teasingly.

“You better be planning on fucking me now,” Azzi threatens. Paige steps back, letting her hand drop from Azzi’s body. She raises an eyebrow.

“Or what, Azzi?” A shiver runs through Azzi’s body. She isn’t prepared for the back and forth, but she scrambles for a response anyway.

“Or I’ll take myself somewhere else and find somebody who will fuck me.”

She’s bluffing. They both know that, but the idea lights a flame in Paige’s stomach. She walks forward quickly, grabbing Azzi’s hips and manhandling her into the living room. She shoves her against the side of the couch and then backs up without saying anything.

Azzi starts to turn around to face Paige, but ends that attempt quickly, gripping her with large, warm hands to stop her motion.

“Paige–” Azzi starts. Paige shushes her.

“Nah. You wanna act like a brat? You’re gonna get treated like a brat. Stand there and fucking listen to me,” Paige orders. Azzi’s knees get a little weak, and she grabs the arm of the couch to stabilize herself.

“Okay. Okay, yeah,” she whispers, more to herself than to Paige.

“Look at you. All dressed up for me, wearing my name, fucking advertising who you belong to. Tell me, baby.”

“Yes, all for you. This is for you, P. I’m yours,” Azzi promises. Her voice is already breathy, and Paige hasn’t even touched her. She’s still several feet behind her, eyes tracing the way the fabric with her own name drapes over Azzi’s curves. She whispers a curse to herself before coming up behind Azzi and shoving her down over the arm of the couch.

“Stay down, just like that,” she demands. Azzi’s nodding before she has really registered the words.

“Okay. Yeah, I can do that,” she babbles. Paige runs her hand over the letters of her name on the jersey carefully. The action is contrasted with her hands roughly shoving Azzi’s skirt down to her ankles only a second later. Azzi is left in a pair of light purple panties and Paige’s jersey. She starts moving to take the jersey off to help Paige speed up the process, but she doesn’t get far.

“Stop. Keep it on,” Paige orders. Azzi freezes, letting the jersey cover her briefly exposed skin again. “I wanna see my name on your body while I fuck you,” she murmurs. Azzi clenches around nothing as a gush of slick leaves her. Paige sees it, sees the way the wet spot on Azzi’s panties is suddenly darker and larger, and she grins.

“That sound good to you?” She taunts.

“Yes. Please. Sounds good,” Azzi pleads. Paige nods, seemingly satisfied with this answer, and pulls Azzi’s panties down to her ankles as well.

“Stay,” she commands. And, like a fucking dog, Azzi does. She stands completely still, bent over the side of the couch with her skirt and panties around her ankles while Paige leaves the room for a few moments, then returns with a noticeable bulge in her sweatpants. Azzi swallows, suddenly salivating.

“Good girl, Az. Good job staying still for me. Now bend over more and arch,” Paige commands. Azzi does as she’s told without thinking while the sounds of clothes shuffling and hitting the floor fill the space behind her. Her thighs twitch.

Azzi gasps when the thick head of the strap presses against her hole, dragging through her folds just to tease her. “Paige,” she pleads, arching her back further. Paige chuckles darkly.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me, please, need your cock Paige.” Azzi’s hips stutter when Paige moves again, the tip of the cock catching on her clit. “Oh, please,” she tries again. Paige pulls her hips away, taking all the stimulation with her, and Azzi feels like she honestly might cry.

Then Paige is back, lining the tip of her cock up with Azzi’s hole and pressing in. It’s careful for all of three seconds, and then Paige is snapping her hips with a kind of force Azzi didn’t know she was capable of. It pushes her whole body forward, hips bumping into the couch, elbows sliding over the cushions as she tries to stay still.

It’s impossible not to move, though. Paige doesn’t slow down in the slightest. She thrusts into her hard and fast, dragging obscene squelching sounds from Azzi’s cunt that make her blush.

“Fuck, look at you. Wearing my name while I fuck you. Dirty fucking slut. Just want everybody to know who you belong to,” Paige says between heavy breaths. Azzi moans, mouth open, eyes shut, and grips the couch cushions. “Tell me, Azzi. Who do you belong to? Whose name are you wearing?”

Azzi tries desperately to form the words, but her brain is so caught up in the pleasure between her legs that all she can do is whine and push her hips back. Paige thrusts into Azzi again, so deep she can feel it in her stomach, and then she stops.

Paige stays completely still behind the younger girl, cock still buried deep, and all Azzi can do is clench around it and let out a pathetic little sound. Paige’s hips twitch when she hears it, but she quickly grips Azzi’s waist and holds her down on her cock firmly. Azzi wants to cry.

“Paige, please, why? Why did you stop? I was so close. Why?” Azzi sounds like a child whining about a toy she didn’t want to share, even to her own ears. If she weren’t so worked up, she might have cared. But her cunt is throbbing, dripping down her thighs, and Paige is buried inside her, so Azzi doesn’t care one bit if she sounds like a spoiled brat.

“I asked you a question,” Paige says. Her voice is low and rough, and Azzi honestly can’t help it when her back arches more, pressing her ass into Paige’s hips. Paige tightens her grip on Azzi’s waist, fingers digging into the bones painfully. Azzi feels her slick drip down the inside of her knee.

“Who do you belong to?” Paige prompts. This time, free from the beautiful torture of Paige thrusting roughly into her cunt, Azzi finds the words.

“You. Paige. I belong to you. I’m yours,” she promises eagerly. Paige’s eyes flutter shut with a groan.

“Damn right you are. You’re my slut. Say it.”

“I’m your slut.” Paige’s hips slide out, then snap back in harder than before. Azzi moans loudly, and she knows Paige’s neighbors can probably hear her, but all she can think is how proud she would be for them to know who’s fucking her this good. To know who owns her like this.

Paige slides in again, so deep Azzi can feel it in her guts, and it knocks loose the flow of words from Azzi’s throat.

“I’m your slut, Paige, you fuck me so good. Only you, I swear. Nobody else could fuck me this good. I’m yours, oh, please–” she whines loudly when Paige’s arm wraps around to her front and she starts to tease Azzi’s clit in fast little circles. She’s barely pressing down, barely giving Azzi enough to feel it, but it’s almost too much at the same time. Azzi clenches down on Paige’s cock, making the slide harder, but Paige just slams in rougher, pushing Azzi’s clit into her hand.

“Fuck, Paige. So close, gonna cum, please, gonna–” Paige drives into her over and over, each snap of her hips an exclamation point on the possession fueling the movements.

“So easy for me. Only for me, right, Az?” Paige taunts. Still, she doesn’t slow her hips or her fingers, driving Azzi higher by the second.

“Only you, just for you. I’m yours, please let me cum,” she begs. Paige leans forward, sucks a bruise into Azzi’s neck, drags her teeth over her pulse point, and then pulls back again, all without slowing down.

“Look so fucking good in my jersey. Fuck, Az. Been such a good girl, you can cum for me. Let go, baby.” It only takes the words and a few more circles of Paige’s fingers on Azzi’s clit before she’s cumming, shaking apart on Paige’s cock as she fucks her through it.

Paige doesn’t slow down in the slightest as Azzi collapses forward over the armrest of the couch. She keeps snapping her hips into Azzi’s cunt roughly, her fingers circle faster, and everything sounds so wet that Azzi genuinely wonders if there’s going to be a stain on the couch when she gets up.

“Good girl, Az. Get up, baby. Turn around for me. Come on,” Paige urges, finally pulling her cock out. Her voice is still low, but it’s edged with a tightness that Azzi is less familiar with. She does her best to push herself off the couch, to turn around and lean against the armrest, but her legs are shaking badly enough that Paige has to steady her.

“Fuck, there you go honey. Doin’ so good. Just give me one more.” That’s all Paige says before she drops to her knees in front of the younger girl.

She pushes her legs apart, guides one over her shoulder, and then just stares for a moment. The look on her face is one of awe, the same look people give famous artwork or a particularly beautiful sunset. There’s a hunger simmering in her eyes that doesn’t come from sunsets, though. Paige licks her lips and then slides two fingers into Azzi’s dripping cunt. Her eyes drift shut as she hums at the feeling.

“So fucking tight. Always so tight and wet. Look at that pretty pussy, just swallowing me up. Shit, so hot baby. Just relax f’me.” Azzi does, letting her body melt into the pleasure of Paige’s fingers.

Once she gets going, she’s not gentle. Paige’s fingers slam into Azzi’s cunt repeatedly, drawing out more slick and making Azzi twitch in overstimulation.

“Fuck, Paige. Too much,” Azzi whines. Paige looks up at her and Azzi almost cums on the spot.

Her blue eyes are wide and reverent, shining as her gaze darts between Azzi’s face and where her cunt is swallowing her fingers hungrily. As Azzi studies her, she realizes that Paige has her other hand between her legs, fingers teasing her clit. Azzi lets out a high-pitched whine and forces her eyes to stay open to watch.

“You can take it. Watch me and take it,” Paige orders. Azzi doesn’t even think about obeying. Her body just does it.

She watches as Paige leans forward and starts to leave little kitten licks to her clit. She watches as Paige slides a finger into herself, hips twitching forward. And she keeps watching when Paige moves down to slide her tongue into Azzi’s cunt next to her fingers.

Paige hums at the taste, and the vibration sends shivers through Azzi’s body. She’s rapidly approaching the edge, and the way Paige’s hand moves between her own legs is only making it worse.

“Shit, baby. Taste so good. You’re so wet. Who’s this for?” Paige pulls away to whisper the words in between breaths.

“All for you. You make me this wet, P,” Azzi whimpers. Her head tips back again, eyes fluttering, but then Paige’s teeth graze her clit and her eyes fly open again.

“Fuck,” she rasps.

“Look at me,” Paige demands. “Look at how I make you cum.” And Azzi does.

Paige keeps licking her, alternating between messy, flat lines over her clit and sliding her tongue into her cunt. Through it all, Paige fucks her fingers deep into Azzi, drawing out wet sounds and moans.

“Close,” Azzi whines. Paige opens her mouth wider, jaw starting to ache, but she doubles her effort and licks Azzi’s clit with renewed vigor.

After a few more moments, Paige lets out something that might be a whimper, her hips twitching forward again. Before Azzi realizes what’s happening, Paige has slid forward, stopped fucking herself with her fingers, and is dragging her cunt over the top of Azzi’s foot sloppily. The image is absolutely filthy, and Azzi didn’t know how much she needed to see it. To see just how desperate Paige could get, just from fucking Azzi.

“Oh god, Paige, holy shit, wait, I think I need to–” Azzi tries to warn the blonde, but she can’t get the words out fast enough. All it takes is one more glance down at Paige, grinding herself on Azzi’s foot, bumping her clit into her ankle, before something snaps in Azzi’s stomach.

She cums with a cry and a gush of liquid, rushing down her legs and onto Paige’s face and dripping onto the floor. Some of it hits her foot, and Paige sobs as she rubs herself faster, the liquid making the motion easier.

“Please, Paige, give it to me, please,” Azzi begs. Paige is still flicking her tongue against Azzi’s clit, although her eyes have rolled back into her head and she’s using both hands to grip Azzi’s hips and steady herself now.

“Fuck, I’m yours, cum for me, please, I want it,” Azzi continues. Her brain hasn’t quite caught up with the stimulation still coming from between her thighs, so it sneaks up on her when Paige lets out a cry, her teeth grazing Azzi’s clit, and she shatters again.

She doesn’t squirt this time, just shakes apart under Paige’s hands, fingers flying into Paige’s hair to steady herself. She’s moaning again, too, mouth open and head tipped back. Somewhere in the haze of pleasure and overstimulation, Paige’s movements slowed to a stop. She lets her cunt just rest on top of Azzi’s foot, hips twitching every so often as she comes down.

They’re both panting, faces wet from Azzi’s cunt or tears or both. They don’t speak at first. Paige presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Azzi’s knee, does the same on the other side, and rests her head there carefully.

“You okay? Was that too much?” Paige rasps. Azzi lets out a breath that might be a laugh.

“In a good way. Me squirting maybe should have been a sign that it was good,” she jokes. Paige smiles, eyes drifting shut.

“You were so good for me. My perfect girl,” she mumbles. Clearly, the combination of exhaustion from the game and the orgasm is getting to her, so Azzi helps tug Paige off the floor, wincing at how sticky her thighs are.

“Shower, then bed,” she declares. Paige mumbles something that might be an argument, but she doesn’t fight it when Azzi guides her into a hot shower, the water washing away sweat and slick and saliva.

“You were so good to me tonight,” Azzi whispers into the steam, her hands massaging shampoo into Paige’s hair. Paige leans her forehead into Azzi’s collarbone, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin.

“You’re good to me. I just give it back to you,” she murmurs. Azzi smiles.

“I love you, P,” she whispers. She feels Paige smile against her.

“I love you. Mine, forever,” Paige whispers back.

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 2.3k words obsessive naga x f!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags two cocks, hypnosis, kidnapping, dub-con, praise kink, light sub naga, oviposition, breeding kink, aftermath of mind control, altered memories

—📜" Making your way back to the campsite, a kind stranger guides you back to where you're needed. With him

Recounting your steps would be futile. It’s best for you to leave fate like this.

It got dark too quickly and you still haven’t traversed your way back to the camp. A short trip to your van for some extra supplies became a longer task than you anticipated it to. You can barely see the sun anymore. The trees start to look the same. Your lamp feels like it’s about to go out any second now. 

The camping materials hold you back severely. Your shoulder aches and the cooler in both of your hands are heavy. Watching the sunset, you drop the cooler below a landmark tree. Four scratches. You don’t exactly know what caused those scratches, but whoever did it, they marked your path back to your friends.

With a sigh, you bend over to carry the cooler again—

“You need help with that?”

The cooler drops to your feet, making you scream out. The person, who materialised out of nowhere, comes up to you. “Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. It’s alright. It’s just… someone.

“Oh,” you say, wincing as you hold yourself up against a tree. “I’m alright, I guess. Are you, uh, camping here too?”

He smiles. His teeth are white and he has little fangs like your little sister. It’s cute. “Yeah, just by the lakeside,” he says.

You haven’t seen another tent on the lake. You’d know since you and your friends are stationed there. Maybe he’s more camouflaged. “Oh, uh, actually, me and my friends are there too. If it’s not too much of a bother…—”

“You want me to take you there?” he says, practically reading your mind. “Yeah. It’s getting dangerous out at night.” He approaches you, looking around the forest with cautious eyes. “Let me lead the way, yeah? Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

You nod. He doesn’t look away from you and you don’t either. When he turns to the path, you follow his figure closely. You feel lighter now. The equipment doesn’t seem so heavy anymore… Did you forget something?

He asks you, “You guys staying for long?”

“Ah, well, for a bit. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” he laughs. “I’ve already been here a while and I never wanna leave,” he jokes. You think that to be true. He turns to look back at you, seeing as you struggle behind him. He reaches out, “Let me get that for you so that you won’t worry about carrying anything.”

You nod. Your backpack, your lamp, all of it goes to him. He smiles as you catch up to him.

You think you’re reaching the lake right about now. You remember seeing another landmark earlier. You think you were supposed to take a turn—but he hasn’t, right? He knows where to go. He knows what to do. You should trust him. You should trust him.

The night looks darker. Did the lamp run out?

He’s not holding anything. He’s not looking at you anymore.

“Hey,” you call out, looking around, “Are we…?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” he assures. “Come on. Hurry now. I can hear your friends from here.”

You don’t hear them. The wind threatens the both of you for a moment, the breeze coming along with it. He takes your hand to guide you forward. You think you hear them now.

There’s something in the distance. It looks like a cave. “Ri-i-ight over there,” he drags out, hands in his pockets as you both stand outside of it. “Your friends are calling for you there.”

It’s too dark to see them. It must be later in the night now. You can hear their voices. They’re calling for you. They’re calling your name. You can hear them so vividly. Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Listen to me.

Get in the cave.

Darkness envelops you with each step forward. They’re closer now. The footsteps behind you feel distant. Yet, you feel the warmth of a body pressed against you. You can feel the air against your neck, like soft whispers and heavy breathing.

You call out one of your friend’s names. It echoes in the cave.

“They’re here, sweetheart,” someone whispers behind you. He's the kind man. “It’s getting late. You need to change into sleepwear, hm? Take your bottoms off for me.”

There’s nothing you can see in the dark. You feel around for your pants as you start to unbutton them. Another pair of hands come to hold yours, guiding you where to pull and where to unzip. It helps you take them off.

“You look very nice,” you’re lowered to the ground, “sweetheart, you look very nice. Can you lay on your front for me?”

The kind man allows you to the cold floor. You feel nice. Just a bit sleepy. He keeps you up with his hands going up and down your body. “Wish you could see yourself,” he says, pushing your top up—revealing your chest—” you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

You can hear something in the background. It sounds almost terrifying. Like the sounds of rubber stretching, the peeling of the skin, and small little grunts that echo throughout. Still, you’re soothed by the kind man who shushes you calmly.

“It’s alright, I just wanna…” he trails off, shifting you around so you’re laying on—something. It’s smooth yet hard beneath you. It’s cold, too cold. “...sweetheart?”

Has he been calling your name the entire time? You can’t really speak. You try to open your mouth but it’s too heavy. You’re lightheaded.

“It’s okay, just wanted to make sure you’re still here,” he says, “I wanna ask you something, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”

You nod.

“Do you like your friends?”

You nod.

“Do you truly want to see them again?”

You nod.

“Then can you help me out? Just for a moment, just for a little while.”

…You nod.

His chuckle is all you hear before he pulls you up. You can hear something dragging behind him. Once you’re pressed against the wall, you continue to hear it as something slides against you. You can’t move. You can’t feel your arms. 

The panic settles in and he’s trying so hard to keep you calm. He whispers unintelligible things to you as something goes tighter, almost making you unable to breathe. It’s tight against your stomach and your shoulders. You can still feel your legs but you can’t move them. You won’t. You won’t move them.

“Stay still,” he says. “Just help me since I helped you, okay? Just one small thing.

“I need to mate with you,” the coils around you tighten, “I need to use you for a while and I promise I’ll return you to your friends. Just make me good for a bit, okay? You got that, sweetheart?”

You let out a little noise. He doesn’t say more as you feel air caress your now bare cunt. It surprises you. “I’ll try to prepare you.”

Something prods against your hole. It’s dry but you feel that you’ve already started leaking. He moans, “Already feeling good? I’m so glad. You’re gonna enjoy this, I promise.”

It pushes inside of you. Your breath gets choked out of you as you feel it massaging deep inside of you. Your legs shake as you struggle with it constantly rubbing against your G-spot. It’s playing it so easily that you can’t help but moan.

“Doing so good for me,” he says, his voice suddenly on your neck as the coils around you loosen. “Gonna put another in.”

He’s true to his word. Another thing goes inside your pussy and now you’re being scissored open. Your legs quiver hard. “So fucking wet,” he moans, “I wanna put my cocks inside of you. I wanna keep you with my eggs stuck inside. Fu-u-u-uck..!”

You cry out as the things inside of you fuck you. It thrusts relentlessly and makes you accustomed to the feeling of being stretched wide. It’s driving you crazy how it reaches so deep inside of you like an actual cock.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, the thing inside of you pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to fuck you. I’m about to fucking burst and it hurts!”

You’re pulled up a little before something wet touches you. You moan, the slickness of it cold and almost uncomfortable. He whines in your ears as it rubs between your folds desperately.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you with my cock, okay?” he says, something—his cock spreading slickness all over your cunt. “I’ll be gentle later. But you’re so good for me, so pliant, so fucking delicious—!”

He gets cut off by both of your moans. You scream out as you feel his cock stretch you. His fingers aren’t enough as you feel him split you open. The heat inside of you is warming you from the inside out, threatening to burn you alive.

“O-oh,” he moans, the coils tightening you, “that’s only one cock. I can’t wait to feel your ass on my other one.”

You don’t get to process his words as the coils around you guide you up and down on his cock. You’re stuck moaning without a name. His cock feels like your entire first, punching you in and out without mercy as he chases his orgasm.

In front of you, he’s panting. He’s going mad with the feeling of being inside of you. Every part of him feels like it's losing as you clench around him, unaccustomed to his size.

“So… tight~!” he moans, thrusting his hips along, “so fucking good. I wanna feel you take all of me. I wanna see you carrying my eggs so much. I wanna fill you up please..!”

He’s mumbling incoherent things as something slaps you from your behind. It feels like his other cock. You don’t panic. Instead, you feel tenfold the arousal as it pokes you at your dry rear.

It doesn’t push in. You know he’s disappointed with the way he’s crying out as he fucks your pussy harder.

“...so much. Wanna fill you up so much,” he moans, a sound coming from the back of his throat like a hiss. “I need to train you on my cock and make you never wanna leave. You’ll never need anyone else but me! Only—only me!

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” His hips don’t stutter as you’re being suffocated again. You’re dizzy. You can feel yourself losing air in your brain as your cunt gets railed over and over again. The buds inside of you are getting rubbed to their most sensitive degree as you can feel him in your stomach. It’s jarring. It’s terrifying.

It’s so fucking good.

You wanna stay here forever.

You wanna be trained on his cock

You never wanna leave.

You never need anything but him

Only him.

A cry escapes your throat as you squirt all over his cock. Your spams doesn’t make him stop. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute!” he says, “you’re shaking. You’re—you’re so tight around me. I’m gonna make you a momma. You’ll never be able to let go of me after this, sweetie. You’re going to want me forever.”

Least expecting it, his cocks stretch you further. You let out a meek noise as it struggles to push something in. “N…no more,” you sob, your walls pushing against it as it tries to make itself home.

“It’s okay,” he hushes. You can feel his arms around you as the coils loosen. “Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing so good.” It pushes in more. “Be a good girl. Be a good momma, okay? Come on, take it!”

He thrusts into you one last time and you scream as something gets pushed inside. You pant, feeling something heavy stretch you inside. It feels like you’re throbbing inside. It feels like a heartbeat

“That’s so good, you’re so good. Such a good girl.”

For the first time, he kisses you. The first thing you feel is his tongue pushing against your lips. It fucks your mouth open as you feel it slither. It’s long and thicker than at least three of your fingers.

You gag. You can feel it against the back of your throat and you struggle to take it in. He tasted sweet. Is it supposed to taste this sweet?

He moans on top of you as he rubs his cock inside of you, pushing the thing inside of you a little deeper. He pulls out of the kiss and you’re left with a drool connecting the both of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you taste so good. Do I taste good?”

He does. You nod lazily as your head falls into his shoulders. He laughs as he strokes your back. “It’s okay. I’m satisfied for now. I’m sorry I rushed, okay? When you come back next time, I’ll be more gentle. I’ll even make a nest for you and our child.”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re falling into the sweet comfort of his arms.

When you wake up, your friend ushers you awake.

“Get the fuck up, sleepyhead!” she yells. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we need to go soon!”

You groan, unwilling to wake up. Your body feels so sore. The sleeping bag wasn’t the best for camping, you’d guess. What a waste of purchase.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sounds of the river are soothing. You’re gonna miss this place, not gonna lie. It’s like something would die in you if you were to leave. Then again, you’re very dramatic.

Your name is called. “Hey! Help me bring this stupid ass cooler! Jacob’s already carrying the other one.”

You put it up against your arms. Huh. You feel like you got a moment of déjà vu. It’s probably nothing. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the morning fog in your head.

Fuck. You think you need to check in at a hospital. You can barely walk and your stomach feels heavy. Maybe get someone to check in on you—...

No.

You can’t do that.

You can’t let anyone touch you down there.

Just need to return to the lake after a month and you’ll be good as new.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ go_h_og

[petalbcrnes]

❀﹒﹒⇅﹒𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ╱ with JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON ㄨ BLACK WIDOW ! READER ꩜ .ᐟ ⠀⠀ hcs & drabbles. ⠀·⠀ ୭

　　﹕   (✿˘͈ᵕ˘͈)   ┈ #directory #rules .   ♡   ﹒ this ask made me rethink the whole ‘reqs closed but suggestions open’ deal i gave going on rn. i cannot physically write everything req i get in my inbox,,, so i just take suggestions— no pressure to write it like a request.

❛   ꜝ   ┈   ✺ cw  ﹒ violence and abuse described in this work— it doesn’t take a big part of it though. a bit of angst because i cannot control myself.

𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀Your reputation precedes you—former Black Widow, perfectly trained killer, someone who understands that justice isn’t always clean or merciful. But Gotham’s protectors seem determined to complicate things. You find yourself in unfamiliar territory— a certain vigilante has wormed his way into your heart. ✶

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 ︶︶

The warehouse explosion lit up Crime Alley like the Fourth of July, and Jason couldn’t help but grin as you dropped down beside him from seemingly nowhere, not even slightly singed despite having been inside thirty seconds ago.

“Show off,” he muttered, but there was admiration in his voice.

“Says the man who literally just drove his motorcycle through a second-story window.” You checked your weapons with practiced efficiency, muscle memory from a lifetime of survival. “Find what we needed?”

“Financial records, shipping manifests, and enough evidence to put half of Falcone’s operation away.” Jason held up a hard drive. “Plus whatever you did in there should send a nice message to the rest.”

You shrugged, the movement elegant even in tactical gear. “The message needed to be loud.”

“No arguments here.” He stepped closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in your eyes. “Bruce is gonna have an aneurysm when he finds out about tonight.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll keep him busy enough to stop lecturing us about ‘excessive force.’” Your fingers found the edge of his jacket, tugging him closer. “Besides, you didn’t seem to mind my methods when I saved your ass in there.”

Jason’s laugh was rough around the edges. “Pretty, I never mind your methods. Just wish you’d give me a heads up. I like to watch.”

Your smile was dangerous and entirely too appealing. “Next time, I’ll put on a show.”

Jason absolutely gets your approach to justice and rarely questions your methods— if anything, he thinks you’re more efficient than the Bat-family’s usual “catch and release” program.

Will definitely team up with you on missions and enjoys the hell out of it, especially since you don’t try to hold him back from doing what needs to be done.

Gets incredibly protective when other people criticize your past or your methods, even though he knows you can handle yourself— old habits from his own experience being judged.

Loves sparring with you because you’re one of the few people who can actually challenge him, and there’s something thrilling about fighting someone who’s genuinely dangerous.

Sometimes you’ll find him reading up on Red Room techniques or Widow operations, not to judge but to better understand what made you who you are.

Has absolutely gotten into arguments with Dick and Bruce about your relationship. It’s a delicate situation. While Bruce and Dick understand you would never hurt Jason on purpose, they do worry how the methods you two choose will affect not only Jason— you as well.

There’s a twisted kind of understanding between you and Jason. I think in the end Bruce only wants the two of you to be able to find peace and not feel trapped by the blood you two have spilled.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 ︶︶

The Blüdhaven rooftop was slick with rain as you materialized from the shadows, silent as death itself. Dick didn’t even flinch— he’d learned to sense your presence weeks ago, though he still couldn’t figure out how you moved so quietly in those boots.

“You’re late,” he said, not turning around.

“I’m exactly on time. You’re just early because you’re nervous.” You stepped beside him, close enough that he could smell gunpowder and vanilla perfume. “The target’s already handled.”

“Handled how?” Dick’s voice carried that careful neutrality he used when he was trying not to lecture you.

You tilted your head. “Does it matter? The trafficking ring is shut down, the girls are safe, and the world has three fewer monsters in it.”

Dick closed his eyes briefly. “We talked about this—”

“No, you talked. I listened.” Your gloved fingers traced along his jaw, gentle despite the calluses from trigger guards and knife hilts. “I know you want to save everyone, even the ones who don’t deserve it. It’s what makes you beautiful, Dick Grayson. But some people can only be stopped one way.”

He caught your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And what does that make you?”

Your smile was sharp as broken glass. “Practical.”

Dick tries so hard to be the moral compass in the relationship, constantly walking the line between accepting who you are and hoping he can influence you toward less lethal methods. (He’s like “I can fix them” and just makes it even worse). It’s not as if he doesn’t want to see this side of you. He does. He just wants to help you navigate the pain jt took to get here.

He’s genuinely fascinated by your skills and will ask you to teach him your stealth techniques, though he draws the line at the more assassination-focused training.

Gets genuinely distressed when you disappear for days on missions, not because he doesn’t trust your abilities, but because he worries about what those missions might be doing to your body and mind.

Has definitely tried to introduce you to everyone else as a “reformed” anti-hero, which backfired spectacularly when you made a casual comment about eliminating witnesses. He learned not to sugar-coat you and your methods after that. Better to accept them head on.

Loves the way you move— there’s something almost hypnotic about your grace in combat that he finds beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

Will patch up your wounds without question, but always with that worried crease between his brows that you’ve learned means he’s planning another “conversation” about your methods and how you cannot keep putting yourself in so much danger.

Sometimes catches you staring at him like you’re memorizing his face, and it breaks his heart a little because he knows it means you’re always prepared to run.

Has started leaving his window unlocked specifically for you, even though you’ve never actually needed to use the window.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

﹒   ♪   ┊ INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

˖ `· . 𓏵 © 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent. ... ⏤ㅤ Ⳋ ⊹

[sylusrot]

LADs Men And How They React to You Falling Asleep

A/N: Just a little ramble of what I think the men would do. Includes them all.

Please enjoy and feel free to send prompts to my inbox. ^^

~

Sylus:

You had been up late the past couple nights filling out a bunch of paperwork you needed to catch up on for work. You were exhausted. One minute, the pen was in your hand, and the next you were laying face down on the desk snoozing.

After three nights, Sylus finally returns to your shared apartment. Upon entering, he knew you must be asleep. Usually, the apartment is filled with noise from the TV or music from the radio. Right now, though, it was complete silence.

First, he enters the bedroom, figuring that's the obvious place you'd be. When seeing that you're not in bed, Sylus' heart stutters for a second. It's unusual. You're okay, right?

Before the panic could set in, the more logical part of his brain takes over. Let me check around the house first. Eventually, Sylus makes it to the office where you're fast asleep. His heart returns to normal.

Walking up to you, he takes in the calmness of your face, the absolute beauty of it. Adoration fills his eyes.

"Darling." he says, lightly stroking your hair. You stir but don't wake. A small, loving smile takes over Sylus' lips.

Without another word, he lifts you and carries you to bed.

~

Zayne:

You always try to stay up to greet Zayne when he comes home from work. The problem is that he typically works really late. You were cuddled up on the couch with a fuzzy blanket while watching a random show on TV when you fell asleep.

You didn’t hear the door open and shut, or the shuffle of Zayne removing his shoes. When he fully enters the living room, his eyes land on you. A small chuckle escapes his lips along with a shake of his head. After the long day he has had, knowing you had fallen asleep waiting for him, puts some of the weight on his shoulders to rest.

Zayne crouches in front of you, slighting shaking your leg. You had fallen asleep sitting up, so when you were startled awake, you feel a horrible pain in your neck.

“You should really take better care of yourself.” His voice was stern but his eyes showed hints of playfulness. You groan as the ache in your neck doesn’t go away.

“Here.” Zayne stands and goes behind the couch. His hands find their way to the knot in your neck and starts to massage. You wince at the pain but don’t move away.

Eventually, the massage sends you off to sleep once again. Zayne can’t help but chuckle at how cute you are. Always so sleepy and it’s no one’s fault but your own, but it’s a part of you that he loves.

He gently lays you down on the couch and covers you with the blanket. He finds himself staring at you for who knows how long. Soon, he decides to sit on the floor beside you, carefully caressing your cheek. Before he knows it, Zayne falls asleep like that, not listening to his own advice.

~

Xavier:

It was your day off and you were determined to get chores around the house done. You’d gotten up earlier in the morning with Xavier to get started after he left for work.

It was only 2pm and you were already exhausted. Clothes were spread folded across the bed while half a basket was still waiting to be folded. Your eyes were heavy and the scent from Xavier’s shirt that you were wearing was making you more tired. He just had that effect on you. A little nap couldn’t hurt.

Surprisingly, Xavier comes home early today. He was so tired, it was becoming too dangerous for him to keep working so he took the rest of the day off.

He sluggishly makes his way to the bedroom. He knew you were busy today so he assumed you were out running errands. When he sees you fast asleep in a pile of his clothes, he can't help but fall in love with a little bit more, if that's even possible.

Doing his best to not disturb you, he silently folded the rest of the clothes and put them away. He might be exhausted, but his love for you is so much more.

Once the bed is cleared, he scoots in beside you, pulling you close, and falling asleep.

~

Rafayel:

Rafayel has been working nonstop, per usual. This time, though, he has a big investor wanting multiple paintings. He's been talking nonstop about what an amazing opportunity it is.

You've been in the studio with him all day, giving him ideas and inspiration. You're so tired, though. Especially now that the sun has gone down and the room has gotten a lot quieter, only the sounds of Rafayel's paint strokes.

Eventually, in a chair not too far behind him, you fall asleep. You stay like that for the longest time. Rafayel hasn't noticed your silence as he's been too focused, but when he asks you a question about how he's doing and you didn't answer, that's when he turns around.

Upon seeing you, he feels warmth circle his heart. Also a tad bit of guilt. He shouldn't have kept you up like this for so long.

He puts down his paints and makes his way to you.

"Cute."

You must be in pain. The way you're laying doesn't look comfortable with him. So, as gently as he could, he picks you up to take you back home. You stir a little before settling against his chest, hand loosely holding onto his shirt.

"Cute."

~

Caleb:

He'd been gone a couple months. Work had him out of town for very serious missions that he doesn't want to worry you with. You missed him terribly, even more so right now. It's your three year anniversary and he's not here. You don't blame him, of course, but you can't stop yourself from crying.

You pulled on one of his hoodies from the closet. His sent filling your nose, making you cry even more. You slide down the closet door onto the floor where you stay for what feels like hours. Before you know it, you've cried yourself to sleep.

Caleb stood in front of the door of the apartment the two of you share, trying to make himself look good with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He opens the door quietly, slowly peaking his head in. When he doesn't see you, he fully enters.

"Pips?" He asks, a smile still on full display. He searches every room before he sees you on the floor of the bedroom. The sight before him breaks his heart, but he knows that in just a few moments, your smile will put it back together.

He places the flowers on the bed and crouches down onto the floor, his face extremely close to yours. His thumb traces the trails your tears left, making sure to wipe all the ones he missed.

Slowly, you wake up, eyes fluttering open and trying to focus on what is in front of you. Once you register that a person was staring deeply into your eyes, you scream.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" You yell as you fling yourself into Caleb's arms, wrapping yours around his neck. His laugh rumbles through his chest.

"Surprise!" He says coolly. "I got you something." Without letting you leave his arms, he turns to reach for the flowers behind him.

"Happy three years, pips."

[harknessxo]

Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink, dummification.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had a boyfriend before, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Tangled, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?” she half joked.

“I would never leave.” You smiled at her. Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to…” you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Aw, such a dumb baby,” she cupped your face, “You’re so naive and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”