#you can only fold pieces of yourself back so many times before you become a crumpled up mess unable to tell up from down

[raspberryjellybrains]

the only way to be truly normal is to not be deeply repressed. the rest is golden.

[mapis-putellas]

Show off

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1400

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia challenges you to a pull-up competition.

Notes: this was fun to write. Enjoy <3

[Prompt list]

"Amor, come on!" Alexia complains as she loops her arms around your waist and rests her chin against your shoulder, peppering your face with soft kisses.

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. "Ale, I've already said no. You only want to do it to prove how much stronger you are than me." You pat her hands placatingly as you step out of her arms to continue with folding the laundry.

"What? No. That is not the truth," she exclaims in mock offence as she clutches at her chest. "You have been practicing, yes? At the gym with mapi?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to face her. "Yes, I have. But it's been a week. How much progress do you think I would have been able to make in seven days, ale?"

Alexia shrugs as she easily lifts herself onto the counter, "I do not know. A lot?" She kicks her legs absently, ignoring the way you glare at her when her feet -clad in shoes might you add, hit the white cupboards below.

You sigh in relinquishment. "For you, maybe, but I'm very much a beginner. You, my love, are not."

"Sí, I know. But por favor, amor? For me?"

Alexia wasn't one to beg. In your three and a half year relationship, you think you’d only heard her do so a handful of times and the majority of those were in the bedroom. Otherwise, she could be very convincing when coaxing you into doing what she wants, so there was ultimately never any need for her to beg.

"Ale..." You trail off.

Alexia slides off of the counter, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. She makes her way over to you, large hands rising to cup your cheeks before leaning down and pressing her lips oh so tenderly against your own. You sigh on resignation as your own hands rise to rest on either side of her waist, fully aware that she had once again gotten her way.

A few moments later you pull away, eyes rolling when you were immediately met with a smirk.

"Okay. We can do a pull-up contest. But I have one condition." You warn.

Alexia nods seriously. "Sí, mi amor. Anything."

"Any teasing, smack talk or bragging, you're on the couch tonight. Understand?"

"Smack talk?" She tilts her head to the side.

You cup her face, tracing the pads of your thumbs beneath her eyes. "It's the act of criticizing another person. Which you will not do to me when you win."

Alexia immediately shakes her head as she takes your hands and places a gentle kiss to the insides of your wrist. "I will not bebé. Promise."

Prior experience has you want wanting to believe her, but figuring you would be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt, you let out a quiet sigh before begrudgingly nodding your head.

You can't help but laugh at the way her face lights up as she all but yanks you into her arms, your feet now dangling in the air as your hands clutch to the back of her shirt.

God, you were such a sucker.

"Okay, okay. When?" You breath, wiggling out of her arms before turning and placing the folded clothes into the laundry basket to be put away later. Or, well, whenever you get around to it if you were being completely honest with yourself. Probably sometime next week.

Your hand was immediately grabbed the second it was unoccupied, and you allow her to pull you out of the kitchen and towards her small home gym. There was a pull-up bar fixed to the doorframe, yoga mats and dumbbells in corner of the room along with many other pieces of equipment you’d yet to learn the names of.

"I will go first, amor," she pulls off her shirt leaving her in a black sports bra and red shorts. "You count, yes?"

Your eyes whip up from where they'd fallen down to her six pack, and you nod silently, watching as she smirks before raising her arms and grabbing onto the pull-up bar with ease. She was going before you could blink, arm muscles becoming more prominent as she lifts herself up and down like it was nothing.

Your eyes somehow seem to drift down to her six pack again on their own accord, and you decide it would probably be best to ignore her laugh so her ego didn't get any bigger than it already was.

She was back on the floor before you could even notice she was done, slightly out of breath as she rubs her hands together and makes her way over to you. Your eyes slowly climb up her body until they were staring into her own.

"Amor, did you count?" She reaches up and closes your mouth, and you flush heavily as you push her hand away and cross your arms against your chest. “You did not, did you?”

"Yes, I did." You feign your assertiveness a lot more confidently than you felt, and Alexia rolls her eyes knowingly as she nods her head in begrudging acceptance.

"How many?"

"Huh?”

“Pull-ups, bebé. How many?”

“Uhh…”

"Let's say, twenty, yes?" She grins, and you sigh dejectedly before nodding.

"Sure. Twenty." There was no way in hell you were going to be able to beat that. Seemingly having more confidence in you than you did in yourself, Alexia coaxes you over to the bar with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Ready?" She braces a hand on either side of your waist, and you take a deep breath before nodding and reaching up your arms. She lifts you with ease, making sure you had a good hold before rounding your body and standing a little in front of you.

Ignoring the fact your hands were beginning to burn already, you use all your strength and pull your chin up and over the bar with a quiet grunt.

"Sí. Muy bien bebé." Alexia praises, and you smile slightly as you once again pull yourself up and over the bar. You mange to repeat this three more times before your arms start to burn. Feeling a little pathetic at only being able to complete five pull-ups in comparison to Alexia’s

twenty, you grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself up two before times before sending Alexia a look that says get me down.

Alexia steps forward and loops her dams beneath your behind immediately, and you let out a sigh of relief as you let go of the bar and rub your sore hands together.

Supporting your body with ease, Alexia looks up at you with a proud smile on her face. You can't help but mimic it as you circle your arms around her shoulders.

"Buena chica," she praises, leaning forward and kissing your chest. You flush just slightly. "I did not think you could do that many."

"It was only seven." You shrug.

"No no." Alexia shakes her head as she bounces you up slightly to get a better grip, your legs now hooked around her bare waist. "How many could you do before?"

"One, I think?" you struggle to recall the specific number due to Mapi yelling at you. Carry on chica. You got this! Use those chicken arms! You’d been quite offended honestly.

“Maybe two?" You doubt yourself.

"Exactamente! And you did seven today. That is five more, no? You are getting strong." She grasps your bicep between her hand and gives it a squeeze, making you laugh quietly as your own hands tangle through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Soon I'll be stronger than you." You muse, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

"No, amor," Alexia states seriously, and you tilt your head to the side. "No one is as strong as me."

"Oh, is that so?" You laugh, and Alexia grins smugly as she makes her way back over to the pull-up bar. You stare at her in confusion, aware she was up to something but not knowing what.

"Hold on tight." Is all she says in place of an explanation, and you can't help but yelp when she lets you go and reaches for the bar above you both.

Complying and wrapping your body completely around her own as tight as you physically could, you stare gobsmacked as she begins doing pulls-up with the same ease as before.

"Show off." You grumble, Alexia's laugh echoing around the room.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @codiemarin

[whoistartaglia]

you’re my best friend

and other ways genshin men tell you they love without directly saying it

alhaitham

“you’re always on my mind.”

bold words spoken from the scholar who seemingly has more books than friends and people close to him. he’ll tell you this in a rather exasperated tone—as if you being in his subconscious 24/7 is somehow your fault—but don’t disregard the message. there’s no one else in the world but you who can distract his brain from his books and studies.

kaveh

“you’re my best friend.”

it’s said so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. the realization was equally similar; it was a simple realization, made one night when the moon caught you just right. kaveh has many friends, a byproduct of his overly, well, friendly, nature. but you’re the the one he wants to spend time with the most, be with the most. his best friend.

wanderer

“i want to spend time with you.”

wanderer said this begrudgingly, as if you’ve forced him to spill a secret he wore to keep. for someone who both revels and abhors being alone, it came as a slight shock when he realized he actually likes and wants to spend time with you. you should consider yourself truly dear to him—there’s not many else, if anyone else, that falls into this category.

thoma

“you look beautiful. you are beautiful.”

thoma has told you that you look lovely several times over again, even when you feel you’re looking your worst. but it’s the second sentence, almost said like an afterthought, like thoma didn’t realize it was being said, gave you pause. thoma doesn’t just find your outside exterior beautiful, but your very person and soul.

ayato

“i would run away with you.”

thank the archons ayato said this to you in private. it would be a scandal if anyone else but you heard such a confession. ayato has more responsibilities than stars in the sky, and they all very dear to him, too. but he meant what he said: ayato would drop them in a heartbeat if that meant running and sneaking around the world with you.

kazuha

“i would settle down with you.”

in contrast to ayato, the free spirit kazuha would do the opposite for you. if you asked him, kazuha would put a pause, maybe indefinitely, on his adventures around the world to be with you. why should he continue to explore the world when you have become his world? the seven nations and beyond may offer beauty in forms of nature and landscape, but it all pales in comparison to you.

xiao

“stay safe.”

this is said with xiao’s arms folded over his chest, a slight scowl on his face. nothing about xiao’s outwards exterior screams gushing love, but you knew from those two very little words. the adeptus cares for you, maybe even more than for himself, and never wants to see you get hurt. should you reassure him you will be safe and careful, his eyes will soften—but not much, not totally until you come back home in one piece.

zhongli

“i would give up immortality for you.”

zhongli has lived a long, long time. the seasons change but only in cycles; the stars wink out and appear in routine. but you crashed into his life and you were something new, someone zhongli had never quite met before. zhongli knew very soon that he would give up watching the world on repeat for you, for life with you had become infinitely more interesting.

[unitato722]

Thinking about the first few times with the turtles in a more realistic light.

The first time you decide to let him inside of you, you don't expect too much. This is his first time having sex, so it's only fair that it's more of a learning experience than anything else.

You start with lots of prep. He doesn't want to hurt you, even when you assure him that you might feel a bit sore. He's so nervous that by the time he finally puts his dick in you he's full on trembling. You talk him through it as much as you can, but let's be honest- there's no way you can be completely there when he's stretching you so wide on his fat cock.

He pushes in slowly, and with every inch your breath hitches. He only gets half way inside of you before he's moaning and cumming buckets. He's barely conscious enough to pull out after the first three seconds, and even then he's still letting out the most sultry "hahhh~" and "oh fuuuuuh~".

That's how it's going to be the first few times. Their bodies slowly becoming used to the sensation of entering your velvety cunt. Nine times out of ten you won't end up getting off, but it's not because they didn't try, it's mostly because they're so braindead from how hard they came that you have to take care of and love on your man until they remember how to speak.

The first time they are able to finally start focusing on making you feel good you better be ready.

Chances are that he's been doing his research on how to make you cum. He probably feels bad that you haven't been enjoying it as much as he has, no matter how many times you insist that you don't mind.

He's between your legs, eating you like a man starved. He makes you cum at least twice before he's shucking his pants and boxers. He crawls up your body slowly as he trails kisses from your hips up across your chest and neck, nipping at your pulse point in the way that makes you gasp. He lets his cock rest against your pussy and slowly slides it up and down, collecting your arousal on his shaft while he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

The kiss is so dirty that you completely lose yourself in it, nearly missing when his head catches at your entrance. He pulls away from you and slowly starts to push in, watching as your mouth falls open in a breathless moan. Once he's half way he stops and tilts your head to look at him. "Beg for me baby." It's like a plea against your lips, and who are you to deny the one who stole your heart?

"Please," you moan out. "Need you so fucking bad~ babyy~" and then he's bottoming out leaving your brain in pieces on the floor. All you can think about is how good he feels, how good you feel.

It starts out slowly, him pulling all the way out before slowly feeding it back into your gushing folds. Once he knows you're ready he starts speeding up, hips snapping against yours as his hands hold yours next to your head. All the while he never looks away from you, too obsessed with the way your face portrays your arousal.

He's able to hold himself back from cumming until he feels you clamping down on him, and then he's losing himself as he spews out praise and sweet words as he jackhammers his release into you.

After that he takes care of you, holding your face and telling you how well you did as he cleans up the mess between your thighs. He's kissing all the bites he left on your neck as he lays with you on his chest, fingers running through your hair comfortingly.

It takes you quite some time to come back to reality, but he's patient and he never rushes you. The second you regain your sense of mind you look up at him, mouth agape in shock. "When the hell did you get good at sex?" You demand, and he laughs.

"You'd be surprised what I've learned the last few weeks baby," he replied with a kiss to your forehead. "Maybe I can show you after you get some rest."

"Deal."

You've never fallen asleep so quickly.

[puppym3]

Hello! I believe suggestions are open right now so I was hoping you could perhaps write something about Hyunjin as your bf/husband and him preparing for a fashion week trip maybe fluff but smut is great too! Thank you~

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

༉‧₊˚. hyunjin x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: none rly, just really just fluffy cuteness, fluff, fluff, kissing, fluff

a/n: thank you anon i love writing for hyunjin, idk what it is ab it that i just want to write the fluffiest things possible for him. I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! <3 ilysm sm sm

let me know if u want to be added to the taglist!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the room as you lie on the bed, watching Hyunjin pack his suitcase for fashion week. His brow furrows in concentration, a sight you find both endearing and amusing. Clothes are strewn across the room, evidence of his meticulous yet chaotic packing style.

“Are you sure you need all of this?” you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He looks over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'm only going to be gone for a few days, but there are so many events. I have to make sure I have everything I need, especially since you're not going with me."

His words sting. Of course, you wish you could be there with him, but your schedules just didn’t line up. You sigh, knowing he doesn’t mean to hurt you. He’s simply focused on his schedule, and he’s right. He can’t take you with him, no matter how much he might want to.

You’re both quiet as he continues to fold clothes, carefully placing them in his suitcase. You watch as his hands delicately place each piece of clothing, his fingers brushing against the fabrics. He’s so focused, his brow furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

“You’re so handsome,” you murmur. “I’m going to miss you.”

He glances up at you, his eyes softening. He crosses the room, sitting down next to you on the bed. His hand reaches out, gently caressing your cheek. "I'm going to miss you, too." He smiles, his eyes full of adoration. "But I'll be back before you know it, and then we can spend some quality time together."

You lean into his touch, your heart fluttering at his words. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too."

He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. His kisses become more insistent, moving from your forehead to your cheeks, and then to your lips. Each kiss feels like a promise, a reassurance that his feelings for you are unwavering.

“I’m going to miss your smile,” he murmurs between kisses. “And your laugh.”

You giggle softly, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. “I’ll miss how you always make me feel better.”

Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle with affection as he nuzzles his nose against yours. “I’ll miss waking up next to you,” he says softly. “And the way you make my coffee just the way I like it.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love. “I’ll miss how you sing in the shower and your random dance moves.”

He chuckles, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. “I’ll miss holding you like this,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “But I promise I’ll think of you every moment we’re apart.”

You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of being so close to him. “I’ll be counting down the days until you’re back,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin kisses you again, his lips soft and tender against yours. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs. “And I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

You tighten your arms around him, holding him close as if you never want to let go. “I’ll be waiting,” you promise.

For a while, you just hold each other, savoring the warmth and comfort of being together. Hyunjin’s fingers stroke your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. You can feel the love and tenderness in every movement, every kiss.

Eventually, he pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours.

The warmth of his hand is replaced by a cool breeze as he pulls away, returning to his packing. You watch him for a moment longer before laying back down, letting the sound of his movements lull you to sleep.

When you wake, the room is dark, and Hyunjin is gone. His suitcase is zipped and sitting next to the door. You get out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Hyunjin?" you call out, your voice echoing in the empty apartment.

There’s no response.

You wander into the kitchen, hoping to find a note, but there’s nothing. You’re about to call him when you notice a light in the living room. You let out a sigh of relief, happy that he isn’t gone yet. "Hyunjin?"

He’s standing by the window, looking out at the city below. The glow of the lights reflects off his face, illuminating his features. He turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, moving closer to him.

“Nothing,” he replies, his voice low. “I’m just going to miss you.”

You wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. His arms envelop you, his warmth seeping into your body. "It’s only for a few days," you murmur.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, letting out a soft sigh. "A few days too long," he pouts.

You chuckle, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you."

"Promise you’ll be right at the door when I’m back?" he asks, a more serious look on his face.

"Like a puppy," you respond with a small laugh.

Hyunjin smiles, the tension leaving his body. "Alright," he sighs. "I guess I better get going then. My manager is blowing my phone up."

You nod, your heart aching at the thought of him leaving. "I’ll text you when I land," he promises, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Be safe," you murmur.

He holds you close one last time, his breath warm against your skin. "I’ll be back soon," he says, his voice filled with emotion. He pulls away, giving you one last lingering look before grabbing his suitcase and heading towards the door.

As he leaves, you can’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. The apartment feels emptier without him, but you know it’s only temporary. You walk over to the window, watching as he gets into the car waiting outside. He waves at you, and you wave back, blowing him a kiss.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[gor3-hound]

meant to be yours

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, unwilling cannibalism - reciever doesn't know! self-mutilation. obsessive, creepy, delusional reader. no real sex but masturbation n fantasies. very little smut and also a lil vomit.

a/n: idk why, but i... could not get this out of my head. been writing this the past few hours n it's now 1am... all i'm gonna say is read at your own discretion

word count: 1.9k words

There wasn't much good in your life. Not really. You'd never been one to talk much. No family, no friends. You spent most of your life working, dropping out of school, and saving money from a young age in order to pursue your one true passion - baking.

Opening up your own shop was hard. You went hungry most nights in order to skim a little cash from your dead-end job to be able to afford the down payment. But it worked. You had your own bakery, and business was booming.

For once in your life, you felt happy.

The day Leon came into the bakery for the first time changed everything. A festering desire found its way into your mind, an itch that wouldn't leave. He was your soul mate, you knew it. He was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. So pure and untouched.

He made your skin crawl. You needed to be closer to him, to corrupt him in a way that no one would ever come close to you. You needed to be his, mind, body and soul. His smile made you nauseous. How many others had received that same smile?

No. You had to have him in a way no one else could.

You started experimenting. Simple things, really. Your love for him was all consuming, and you're sure in time he'd come to understand how much you worshipped him. He'd be appreciative of all you'd done for him once he found out.

It made it all worth it as you carved into your flesh for the first time. Your teeth clamped down on an old leather belt of yours to stiffle your screams, a piece of fabric tied tight around your thigh to slow the bleeding as you cut chunks of your flesh out.

The pain almost made you pass out, but you wouldn't let your weakness get in the way of showing devotion to Leon. You swallowed your bile as it rose up your throat, blinked past the blurriness of your tears.

You did your best to treat the wounds efficiently after. YouTube can only teach you so much, and your hands wouldn't stop shaking, so you couldn't wrap the bandage as tight as you should have. But that was okay. You couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk someone stopping your plan.

You swallowed some painkillers and went to bed, content with the knowledge that tomorrow was Saturday. That meant Leon would be coming. You had something really special for him.

You wake up with a hop in your step the next morning despite the excruciating pain you were in. You down more painkillers and pop the pack in your pocket, although it does little to dull your pain.

You grind the carefully harvested flesh down. You had already made the dough which had expanded nicely. This would have to be your best work, after all. You carefully lay out the necessary ingredients, combining them before placing the filling neatly into the dough.

You gather up the edges of the disc you'd made, folding them over the seasoned flesh and tucking them in to form a nice ball. You smile at yourself, feeling like you deserved a pat on the back. Once the egg wash is on, you place them into the oven and glance at the clock.

Perfect timing.

You smile and set up the rest of the bakery for opening. Once the buns are cooked, you take them out and place them in the back. You greet all the customers as friendly as always despite the burning in your thigh and the obsession making itself known in the forefront of your brain.

The closer it gets to Leon's usual entrance time, the more antsy you get. You can't keep still, shifting your weight between your feet as it becomes increasingly more difficult not to snap at every customer that walks in. They were all wasting your time.

Your eyes flick over to the clock on your wall constantly. The quiet ticking makes your eyes twitch and keeps your nerves on edge. You want to rip the clock from the wall and-

“Hey.” Your head snaps to the door. A smile makes its way to your face as you relax. Finally. You lean on the counter, your gaze trailing Leon's face appreciatively.

“Leon. Hi.” You breathe out, all the tension seeping out of your muscles. He makes all the pain you endured worth it, just to see his smile. “The usual?”

He nods softly, and you get to work packing his order. He likes to treat himself to a slice of cake and a pastry at the end of the week. It's the cutest thing ever to you, and you always like to throw in an extra little snack. On the house, of course.

“Hey, I tried something new today. Saved some for my favourite customer. Want to try it?” The festering in your mind returns tenfold. You didn't know what you'd do if he didn't accept. Your mind was screaming at you, wanting nothing more than to see him eat your flesh. To become one with you.

Please. Your mind supplies, your breathing growing shallow as you wait for his reply. The seconds feel like they stretch into hours, your nails digging into your palms and leaving little crescent shaped marks in the flesh.

“Sure! What did you make?” He asks, sweet as ever. The air you suck in after that satisfies your whole body, like the first breath of air after you'd been drowning. Your lungs stop burning, your mind stops screaming.

“I'm trying out some more savoury stuff. Trying to broaden my horizons, you know?” You say with a chuckle, stepping back to retrieve the tray. “I made some pork buns. Saved them just for you. They're all yours, if you like them.”

He lets out a laugh himself, eyes examining the food in front of him. “You're too good to me. These look amazing.”

Take one. Please. Just one.

“Ah, it's nothing.” You say causally, your eyes locked on his hands as they reach out for one of the buns. Your heart beats faster, feeling like it's about to break free past the cage of your ribs. “You're an officer. Just giving back.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” He says with an amused smile, finally picking up one of them.

Yesyesyesyes. Just a little longer.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to make a noise as he takes a bite. It's even harder to keep a neutral expression as he chews it, his eyes widening slightly. He swallows the bite, looks at you and grins. You lean forward, watching with morbid curiosity as his Adam's apple bobs, picturing the chunks of your flesh sliding down his throat.

“Wow! These are, like… really good. You should definitely start selling them.” He compliments, taking another bite. You watch him finish up the bun with increasing interest, your eyes practically sparkling with joy and your pussy throbbing with need.

“That's, um…” Your words come out shaky, so you clear your throat and try again. “Thank you. That means a lot. I'm really glad you liked it.”

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed.

If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

“No, no. I think that's it.” He says with a head tilt, not looking unlike a puppy in that moment. You want to keep him in a little room, safe from the cruelty in the world. Maybe a cute little display case you dust off every day.

“Alright, no problem, then.” You say as you start to ring up his order, telling him the price and taking the money. “Let me just wrap these up, and you can be on your way.”

With practised ease, you quickly wrapped the ordered items in paper, making sure the wrapping is secure. Once done, you carefully place them into a brown paper bag, double checking everything was intact. Reaching out, you held it out towards Leon, a kind smile on your face as you tried to ignore the aggressive beating of your heart. Your hand shook slightly, yearning for contact. For just a tiny moment of skin on skin. "Here you go.”

“Thank you so much! I'll see you next week.” He tells you as he reaches for the bag, his fingers brushing yours lightly as he takes it, getting ready to leave the bakery.

"Have a wonderful day." You reply, your voice breaking slightly as you watch him walk away. Your eyes follow his form disappearing down the street until he was out of sight before you let out a ragged breath, collapsing against the counter. Today had been... too close. Too much contact. You needed to calm down.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your mind wanders for the rest of the day, thinking about how satisfying it would be when you were finally his. You'd get him to accept your gifts with open arms. How could he not love you when he'd realised how much you'd sacrificed for him?

You wanted him to dip his tongue in your wounds, to thank you properly for the pain you'd sustained for him. You'd worship every inch of his body, give everything you'd had to him.

Oh, how good it would feel when he sunk his cock into you for the first time. You'd be perfect for him, open up so easily for him. You'd take every inch without complaint, let him fuck you as often as he wanted.

Maybe he'd sink his teeth directly into your neck when he realised how much he craved your flesh. You'd make him crave another taste. The thought made you shiver, arousal pooling into the gusset of your panties, making the fabric stick to you.

You closed up early to return to your apartment. You find your bed instantly, flopping down and stripping within seconds. You shove two fingers deep into your cunt as you pictured Leon fucking you. The sloppy wet noises fill your room as your moans echo off the empty walls.

Your free hand shifts to the wound on your thigh, and you press down harshly. You scream in pain, nausea hitting you instantly at the agonising pain. It's enough to make you cum, your pussy gushing around your fingers. You lean over the edge of the bed, throwing up onto the hardwood floor. You'd deal with it later.

You curl up into a ball, breathing heavily through tears and mucus as the burning sensation worsens. You can barely breathe through the acrid scent assaulting your senses. It was all worth it. You'd tear every muscle fibre of your body apart to show your reverence to Leon. No one can love him like you can.

You wouldn't be content until he devoured you whole. Not until your souls became intertwined and you were sure you'd plague his thoughts like he had plagued yours. His teeth would sink deep into the flesh of your still beating heart, and only then would he understand the extent to which you adored him.

His innocent appearance meant nothing when he could ruin you so completely with one simple look. One touch. One smile.

He already had.

[yawnderu]

She Wants Me Dead — Miguel O'Hara x Reader | Part III

1 2 3

"You have tits now." The sentence is so blunt it almost makes Miguel laugh for the first time ever since the incident.

"Pecs." Is all he can reply, barely even finding the energy to keep his eyes open. He has been working himself to the bone ever since he broke the canon and erased an entire dimension, looking for an explanation, a solution, anything.

"Mhm." Everything felt so cold ever since. 5 months in and you couldn't handle the pressure of dealing with Miguel, who was barely home and didn't even have the energy to do anything with you, spending all day in his office, planning with the AI you came to love, Lyla. You left him at his lowest, appearing only a year after the incident, once Miguel had it together, in a way. The Miguel you're looking at isn't the Miguel you fell in love with.

"I have nothing for you, so you might as well shock off." He dismisses you without even sparing a glance at you, his red eyes focused on the projection of his adoptive daughter— the life he wished he could have and got to experience for a short while before reality came crashing down in him, destroying any piece of what the old Miguel was like. Friendly, nice. He was now full of snark, sarcasm, and a moodiness that seemed to spread to everyone around him, infecting them like a virus.

"I just wanted to see you. See if I got lucky enough to be in your bed again." There's a playful pout on your lips, doing nothing to ease the tension. He wasn't expecting to see you ever since you dumped him, and he could feel his muscles tensing at your mere presence.

"Not happening. Not after what you did." He's stern, cold. His red eyes set on you for a second before returning to his monitor, both wounds still fresh in his soul.

"You're still mad about that? I said sorry." The charming smile you shoot his way is enough to make his blood boil. It's something he has seen far too many times during your toxic relationship, something that previously made him fold and submit to you, despite knowing you're both pure poison to each other.

"Sorry." He repeats with a scoff, hands on his hips as he finally looks down at you. He's much... bigger, in every way. The lanky guy you knew is now towering at 6'9, his body nothing short of pure muscle that could easily crush you like a bug.

"If you want back in, you're gonna have to try much harder. You can't just keep doing stuff like that, not anymore." He's a lot more mature now, even if only a year has passed. You know he suffers from great trauma— hell, you were there to see that for yourself, until you ran away.

"Fine. I'll do anything, Miggy." You reply with a sigh, hands gently tracing his waist before wrapping around it, bringing him in for the so dreaded hug. In reality, you don't feel much about it, but for him... it's like another punch to the gut. He has way too much on his plate, the last thing he needs is his ex-girlfriend, a villain, pretending to be sweet just to get forgiveness.

"Just... be there for me and don't piss me off." He says after hesitantly pushing your body away, being careful enough to not use a lot of force.

Four months in and you've broken that promise more times than he can count, yet the obsession and love cloud his judgement. You're the only thing he can cling on besides his obsession with the canon, and so when he needs a break... he knows you'll be there. Doesn't matter if he wants to talk, cuddle in silence, or fuck. You're always available, ready for anything he has in mind.

"Así, mi amor." He guided your hips up and down his cock, arms wrapped around you like a lifeline as he used your cunt to jerk himself off.

"Too much—" He shushes you with a kiss, bringing your body closer to his until he can thrust into you faster, your whiny moans doing nothing but become fuel to his already exhausted body. His kisses are sloppy, desperate, tongues wrapping around each other in a mess of saliva.

''Wanna prove how much you're sorry? For all the broken promises?'' You regret nodding your head, because now your body is now pinned down on a mating press as he fucks his stupidly big cock into you, pulling out only to slam himself back in, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and mixed moaning bouncing off the walls of his room in a melody that you both know too well.

''Want it inside?'' He already knows the answer, but he always asks just to confirm. His thumb rubs on your clit while he holds your thighs up with both hands, looking at the way his cock disappears into your cunt, barely managing to take him all the way. The new position allows him to see more of you in a vulnerable light, and he truly appreciates just how much power he holds over you in this moment, your much smaller body writhing underneath him as your second orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, unable to focus on anything going on around you except just how good his cock feels. You manage to give him a desperate nod, too overwhelmed to even speak, only whiny moans being able to push past your lips.

''Good girl.'' He praises in a whisper, burying himself all the way inside as he climaxes, pearly white and thick cum filling your insides, painting them a pretty color in what he hopes will finally be the time he gets you pregnant. Hopes, because he knows you're on birth control, and he knows he'll get made fun of if he ever suggests starting a family with you.

He slowly pulls out of you, tired body collapsing right next to you, holding you in his arms like you're made of glass, plump lips planting gentle kisses on your forehead, a total contrast to the man fucking you earlier.

''I love you.'' He confesses softly, the weight of the three words crushing him down every single time they come out of his lips no matter how many times he says them. Despite the lack of energy, you tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips as you look up at him. He know that look too well, rolling his eyes and groaning in annoyance. You're definitely going to make him grow gray hairs before he even reaches 40.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

GRAY GROUSE (XIV)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XV ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 3.2K

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, angst, mentions of guns & weapons, gore mentions, talks about shootings, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your mind isn’t itself as you hear every clink of your cane hitting the floor. It echoes inside the cage of your skull—amplified like not even a brain sits there with its pulsing flesh. 

You can hear every one of your broken footsteps taking you farther away from him.

“When you get in there…” Laswell’s words blur heavily. 

Gaz was leaving. He was leaving now. The Brit was walking out onto the tarmac—entering the metal of a cargo hold before he settled down for the long flight to Russia. Joining back up with his Task Force. So why was a part of you still trying to make your feet turn around to follow?

Joey lowe.

The name snaps you out of your brooding thoughts—your shaky fingers as they strangle your cane.

“...Be watching the entire time.” Kate sighs under her breath, and from the corner of her eye, she glances at you. “You don’t have to worry about the possibility of him attacking you. He’s fully restrained to his chair.”

“I’m not worried,” you mutter. “Let’s just get this over with already.”

The woman’s stare narrows, glancing behind even if she knows that the Sergeant wouldn’t be sneaking after you. That wasn’t how Kyle was. But still…a part of her looked.

“I couldn’t agree more. Follow me.” Kate pulls ahead and guides you along.

Staring at the back of her head, you fight the sharp sting behind your eyes, but even you can’t force a knife out of your skin and expect it not to hurt.

When Laswell hears a stubbornly inhale, she doesn’t even mention it.  

The walk isn’t long, and while the bullet wound on your thigh pulls, you welcome it as a distraction. Your other hand had slipped into your pocket, reaching for your coin, but when it had brushed the picture that you’d folded inside, that almost kiss flashing through your consciousness, it nearly left you bending over yourself.

A door appeared ahead of you, your pulse as loud as a roaring lion. 

“Remember,” Kate moves her keycard from her lanyard. A firm glance. “We’ll have eyes on the entire time.” 

Like a phantom, you enter the unlocked barrier just as it beeps.

Joey is just how you remember him—except now he was minus the bulletproof vest and the gun in his hands. Perhaps you’d just become used to all of this because the memory slips off of you like water to a metal surface; it doesn’t matter. There were only so many things that you could tear at your mind about at one given moment. 

Gaz seems to take precedence, and you have a deadly knowledge as to why.

Lowe’s eyes move up as you slip inside, letting the door close behind you with a definitive lock. It’s a classic interrogation room—like the one you’d been brought to when all of this started. Sitting in a metal chair, the man that had been sent to kill you was reduced to a flushed mess of tanned skin and a bruised, bald, head. The sunglasses were gone, just as the lower face covering. Now, all that you saw was the round face directed right into yours. 

“You,” Joey snarls, hands yanking at the handcuffs that leave him restrained to the table. Your eyes slip to his middle. The padding of bandages was thick—just like the ones on your thigh.

“You shot me,” you blankly comment, feet moving closer. 

Like a droplet of blood hitting the floor, your heartbeat echoed through the tingle of your nerves; raced up and down your spine.

Answers. 

You were done playing all of these pieces in someone else's game. The videos on your father’s laptop, every lead stopping at a brick wall just when the reveal was at the tip of your tongue—it was ending.

“Should’a done more than that, Brat,” Lowe snaps, hands swelling with blood. 

“Careful,” you numbly glance upwards. Locking your eyes with his for but a moment. “You’ll break skin.”

“I don’t give a shit!” Lips flickering, you grasp the second chair’s back, peeling it out with a huff and delicately placing yourself down until you can sigh out the tension. 

But the man’s words are more layered than he’d like to admit—you picked up on it instantly. Fear. You knew because, in every instance along the long line of this story, your own sentences had been dripping with it; that undertone like a sharp knife. It was bleeding from his heart.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath, glancing at the large wall of one-way glass to your left. You can’t see anything, but you know people are back there. Waiting. Your head swivels back. “Then why are you shaking?”

Joey’s eyes burn you one glare at a time. The man only stops when he grunts in pain, midsection bending in as his throat clears quickly.

How quick you’d gone from the one in the very same situation as him, to the one holding the gun. It was almost poetic.

Again your mind slips into images of Gaz’s brown eyes, a longing growing the more you can’t look over your shoulder and find him waiting for you. You nearly do just that—turn around. Head half-turned until it hits you like a strike of lightning. 

Your father’s journal sits heavy, hidden in your coat.

“I don’t expect you to tell me anything worth my time,” Joey looks up at your words, face tight with aggression. “But I want you to listen.” 

You let that pause linger, and the hired gun is about to yell at you again before you do the best thing you can: lie.

“We have the laptop,” you shrug, licking your lips as your thighs move over the chair to re-settle. A spark of heat moves through your wound. “And we also know who hired you and Samson. Nothing you tell me will be worth my time,” you tilt your head, “because we already know it all. The game’s over.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joey laughs. “You expect me to believe that? I had a deal in place—nothing’ll break it ‘cept my damn death.”

“We struck a new one,” you utter, and suddenly his eyes aren’t hard to look into at all. A bout of courage overtakes the raging waters of your hope that Kyle will come through the door and back you up on this.

But he won’t.

“You,” Lowe looks increasingly more panicked. “You’re lyin’. The fucking government would never take up a deal with Chiyou.”

Your eyes take on a sharp hue, honing in. The entire air goes tight with eagerness. 

“It’s the government,” is all you dryly state, trying not to sound so excited. 

Joey’s eyes dart to the one-way slashing around frantically. His pulling at the cuffs gets harder, and the blood that falls only moments later makes you stare. If it were someone else, maybe you would have cared. 

“Now’s the time to clear your name,” you continue, motioning a hand as your other plays with the material of your cane. A flicker of something moves along your face—mimicking his very words from when the barrel of a gun was pressed into the back of your head. “You should be thanking me…”

“I’m not—”

“Tell me about Samson,” you interrupt, eyes stuck on him. Anger begins to overtake you—building. Your body leans forward in the chair stiffly. “Tell me about how he wasn’t strong enough to get the job done.”

“If you already know, why are you asking?!” Blinking, you send a glance up and down Joey’s body. He was shaking in pain, and you had no doubt that his stitches were pulling. No one had come in from the other room to tell you to stop. 

And you were always so stubborn, anyway.

“I think we’re done,” you shrug. “I was right—you can’t tell me anything.” Standing, you move as if a walking bone to a chained dog, slinking through gore and blood until you’re already to the door. Feet slow and steady, you raise your knuckles to knock. Like clockwork, a thunk of the lock lets your hand shift to the handle, grasping it and adding pressure to—

“Wait!” You push open the door, head sticking out only enough for Kate’s stiff-eyed form to show from the room a foot away. She has herself half in and half out of the frame, watching you closely. 

Raising a slow brow at her, your body pivots back and disappears once more. 

Perhaps this was so easy because Lowe was retrained. If he hadn’t been, things could be wildly different. Gaz would have told you that even if he was cuffed, this was still not your job. You shouldn’t have to do this. 

The door behind you closes once more. 

Staying on your two feet, you tap your fingers against your cane and incline your head. “You have the floor, Joey.” 

“You’ve just signed my death warrant,” he barks, eyes still unable to stay still. “You don’t know what you’ve done. I need a deal—I-I need witness protection.”

“Talk,” you hiss. Impatient nature rearing its head, you glare tightly. 

Kyle must be on the C-17 by now—maybe it was even taking off as you were having this conversation. Why did you feel so anxious about it? Why were your feet still wanting to turn even when you were on the cusp of blowing this wide open? 

He can’t really mean this much to you…can he?

“Samson was too good of a guy to get stuck in this, dammit!” Dark eyes lock with yours, and you frown. “All the decent ones are already dead, and it’s your fuckin’ fault.” 

“I’m failing to see how I’m supposed to care at this point,” you dryly spit out. 

Joey’s head shakes back and forth, bald head shiny in the overhead light. “Yeah, I’m not that surprised, Sweetheart. Samson let you live, but, hell, I’d have put a bullet in you a thousand times before I did that to your father.”

Your spine tightens up. Lowe keeps talking as your heart stops beating.

“Fuckin’ fool,” Joey’s jaw clenches, his wide face bright with rage. “He should have just gone through with the orders—it would have been quick; he would have been alive to see his girls grow up.”

You partially open your lips but stop yourself quickly. He has to keep going.

“I knew he was too damn righteous for that; knew he wouldn’t kill you like he was supposed to. Damn idiot went and shot the fucking husband instead. God. Served with him and everything—I know that bastard didn’t kill himself.”

Wide-eyed, your thigh throbs as your entire body seizes up. 

Joey tries to stand, growling and yelling becoming increasingly more violent; and still, that fear stays in his eyes—deep into his soul.

“You’re ex-military,” you whisper under your breath. Louder, “Tell me what you know about Chiyou,” you snap. “Who is it?”

“This is your fault!” He shouts, and the table jerks against the bolts holding it to the floor. You flinch, taking a small step backward as your face blankly of all else besides thinly veiled fear. “You’ve got your hands all in it! It’s you!”

Alarms blare over the speakers with the sharp screech of dying dragons.

Gasping, your head snaps to the one-way in shock—the lights flickering overhead as you blink quickly, confusion making your heart speed. The sound is so sharp your free hand has to physically snap to the side of your head to cover one of your ears—mouth releasing a fast yell. 

Your back shifts to slap into the door, and with a quick hand, you reach for the handle. Yet, it opens before you can even touch it; fingers grapple for your clothes as you’re peeled out.

Joey screams above the alarm.

“Don’t leave me here! Don’t! It’s what they want—!” The door slams as Kate bullies you down the hallway quickly. Soldiers rush past. 

In her hand, she holds the body of a small pistol.

“What the hell is going on,” your voice is smoother than you thought it would be, but nonetheless firm. You hurry along as fast as you’re able, adrenaline taking most of the intense pains and stacking them away for now. Namely, the one in your heart. There’s no time to think over what you’d just uncovered about this plot—no time to act on it.

“I’m getting you to a secure area,” Kate levels, not fully answering you. 

“And are you going to explain on the way, or…?” You trail off, eyes digging into her and voice loud above the noise. A man rushing past clips your shoulder, and you stumble before your cane stops your fall. Laswell’s grip gets harder. 

“Your mother was attacked in the medical ward. We don’t know who did it,” the woman explains in a swift breath. 

Your face blanks, snapping over to her even as countless other people nearly run into you. Shouts and yells spring up—guns carried in hard grips as the sounds of boots connecting with the floor make you beg to hear more familiar ones. 

But an instinctual glance behind you leaves nothing but electric air and millions of bodies of people you don’t know. You have to admit, that makes you more scared than anything that was revealed previously.

“Is,” you stutter, head jerking back to Kate. “Is she okay?! What happened, she was supposed to be safe here!”

“You need to focus on yourself,” is the harsh and blunt answer. Blue eyes grace yours, sharp as you’re taken down the next hallway on fast feet. 

“How many times am I going to be told that before you people realize it’s not going to happen?” You shout, but it’s lost to the blaring, insistent, noise that makes your head ache the longer you’re out here—stuck in the bright lights and the screams. 

It reminds you of the park.

Shoved into a side room, you’re released to stumble for a moment as Kate jerks the door closed with a rattling frame. 

“It is going to happen,” she looks at you, hand low at her hip as she motions to you. “Kyle isn’t here anymore to watch you. Until this is over, you have to rely on your own skills to keep you safe.”

You narrow your eyes in disbelief, a sneer coming to your lips. Your body steadies itself as your breaths come quick. 

“Isn’t that literally someone else's job? I’m sorry to tell you this, Laswell,” you growl, moving closer, “but I don’t know how to deal with hitmen!” 

You’re given an unimpressed look before Kate shakes her head and frowns at you. 

“You’re smart—Kyle saw that. But you make stupid decisions.” You move your hand out in a hostile gesture, teeth snapping like a dog. “You need to think, Spitfire. The pieces are all laid out, you know the answer to this.”

Confusion now overtakes that feral panic. 

“What are you talking about?” Kate moves to you, grabbing at your shoulder with her free hand. You glare into her eyes, blinking away after a minute of contact.

“No one can figure this out but you. You’re the catalyst. It starts and ends with you—Lowe gave you the last of it. There’s an answer here, and you’re not willing to see it.” 

“Where’s my mother,” you bark in question, annoyed at this line of conflict. “You’re not making any sense.”

Kate takes a step back and stares heavily at your face. She licks her lips and says slowly, the words nearly lost to your ears above the alarms, “Too many men and women have died over this already. You know that.”

“What I know is that you’re making my head explode!” You shout. “You’re going on and on about this—what about you?! You and your little Task Force that doesn’t even know the people they work with!” Your mouth moves in a laugh. “You send off the one person who I’m starting to trust, and then I find out Samson was meant to kill me.” 

“We should be glad he didn’t,” Kate tilts her head. She’d gone too far in life to gain that sheen of guilt now. Her experiences were a long line of statistics and facts. 

You were the target, now the question had shifted as to why. You had never been involved in any illegal activities with your father—there was never any evidence of that, and everyone knew it to be true. 

One question leads to another, and another, and another. 

You knew something. Something that you maybe didn’t even know yourself yet. But time is rapidly coming to a close.

“We should be glad I didn’t leak your fucking file onto the internet when I had the chance,” you point, teeth bared. “I’ve seen it—I know how you work. It’s goddamn disgusting the things you do.”

“I’m not discussing this with you,” Laswell utters, frowning. “It’s my cross to bear.”

“Oh,” you laugh sarcastically, “so high and mighty. Kate Laswell—a martyr.”

Kyle seemed to have taken the key to your anger with him and left the door wide open. Your cruelty slipped through the frame to bleed its black blood over the hardwood floors like some possessed dog, dragging itself home time after time for only a faint memory of warmth. You were just so angry all of the time. Being here—around these people; these bases and the secrets. 

Every ounce of you is bathed in wrath. 

“Trust me,” you grin numbly. “My eyes are wide open.” 

Blue stares into you, unblinking until the earpiece makes the woman move back and press her fingers up to it—to listen above the noise.

All she gives you is a firm and unemotional, “Are they?” Before her face turns away from you. 

You clench your jaw and scoff, neck shifting as you tap your cane into the ground. The wound burns, but your free hand easily moves into your jacket pocket and presses into your coin—digging your palm into it. A distraction, maybe. 

But all you can think about is how Gaz would be giving you that disappointed look and turning his head away. It makes you want to throw something. 

His stupid hat; stupid voice. How he carries himself—how he felt so guilty about his part to play in this.

How he left.

He left you here. 

With your mother, with Laswell. He regretted it, sure…and the worst part was that you’d entirely forgive him if he came through that door right now. For everything. But, God, please don’t make him leave you here alone after everything he’s done to make it right.

The realization makes your eyes water, a sting again forming. You wanted him here with you. You wanted his jokes and his smile—that smirk of his. Gaz’s stories about his trials and his achievements. 

His history.

You could study all you wanted about that topic, but the section that was titled his own would always be the most interesting. He’d snuck in and grappled onto the place between your ribs; he’d stuck a knife into your heart and refused to peel it out—to let you bleed him away.

Damn him, damn him, damn him. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Kate’s face goes grim while you fight your own inner monologue. Her sentence rips you out of the bubble you’re stuck in. 

“Lowe’s dead. Get ready, I’m moving you across base.” 

TAGS:

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[hanasnx]

hiii, how’d you feel writing 65 + 68 with anakin ?

i think these go pretty well together :)

prompt: #65 + #68

prompt list | rules

minors dni 18+

word count: 0.9k | character(s): anakin skywalker x f!reader

warnings: established relationship, no plot rly, no y/n, calls you “girl” once, you cry but this is not a dacryphilia piece, actual smut (eating you out, sinking his dick in), kinda fluffy in his own special way, comforting you but you’re not crying bcos of sadness or pain just overwhelming orgasm.

There's something so intoxicating about a lover who mixes pain with pleasure as beautifully as Anakin can. A well-rounded experience makes for satisfaction because he runs you ragged when he's got the time. Teasing that can only be described as torturous as he meticulously traverses your entire body head-to-toe with his hands and mouth. Erogenous zones given extra special attention as he consumes all you have to offer. As if willing to imbibe your very essence without second thought to consequence. Drinking you like red wine as you release, pouring it down his throat all the while he seldom takes a breath. Your nails scrape against his scalp as you draw his head to you, every detail of his plump lips apparent against your sensitive folds.

Nothing short of overwhelming, crying out to release boiling over emotions that can't be shook out through the tremors coursing through your very nerve endings. Exploding in a quaking orgasm, you claw on him as if intent to draw blood. His wet tongue laps up the excess, dripping down to the fat of your backside, concerned over whether or not he's wasting all you were so generous to give him.

You're limp, as lymphatic as liquid, while Anakin creeps up, hovering over you leaving congratulatory kisses in his wake. Chest heaving with hot pants, you lull your head to watch him, meeting those blue eyes already patiently awaiting you. It's not dim enough to conceal the lines of his face, becoming clearer as he crawls into your atmosphere. A level of cautious restraint to his expression that betrays his desire to have you now, yet he depends on your word. Inches apart, you smell yourself on his jaw. That wave that crashed through you so intensely, now ripples, and its effects linger. It reverberates, and that tug on your heartstrings opens the floodgates. Heavy, warm tears gather at the corners of your vision, streamlining down your pout as you fully realize the lasting impact your orgasm had on you. The feeling of emptiness between your legs is replaced with a swollen head prodding in search of your entrance. Out of humiliation, you throw your arm over your twisted countenance in an an attempt to veil it from your lover, so as to not make him uncomfortable.

Instead of invading the space you've created for yourself, your arm remains where it lay, and Anakin nips at the length of it. His soft, feathery voice soothes you in a loving croon, “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” You've done this before, he's experienced being on the receiving end many a time by it. In the past you've instructed him to pleasure you through it for it's simply a symptom of being staggered rather than pained. Not everyone is capable of it. Choking back sobs, your mouth stretches into a grimace he can't help but dip down to kiss. His sweating forehead rests along your ulna as he clumsily runs his lips along yours, grazing your teeth, collecting your spit on the crest of them.

When he retracts, a string of drool connects you, breaking as he adjusts you. Expert hands redirecting to fold your legs on either side of him, and he sinks only his glans inside. "You're too tight, angel," he whispers. Hugging him in a vice, he gently rocks his hips, refusing to introduce you to more than the tip.

Finally, you absorb his advice, and control your breathing. To be filled is an ardent desire indeed, and the sting of stretch is not welcome for your recovery. Deeply inhaling, forcing it to level until salty tears dry sticky on your skin.

"That's it, girl, that's it." he commends, "You're doing well." A large hand strokes your hair affectionately, immersing more of himself with each kind piston. "S'not so bad, is it?" His honeyed approval is a disguised method to coax you out of the shell you've retreated into. All the while he comfortably steeps his length halfway in. Your bottom lip trembles in an acutely pitiful way, to the point your lover urges you to quiet it by sucking onto it; he runs his tongue along it in order to acquaint you with slipping into your open mouth, silencing you himself as he hums in content against you. You can taste your remnants on him and you palm his rotator cuffs, momentarily quivering around his member entwined with your insides.

"'Want... need more," The only sentence you can muster, dangling off of your wavering voice as you mumble it pressed against his lips. There's a curl to his you recognize, pecking the corner of his mouth it exists on. You're unsure if he's ignoring you for a purpose because you cannot see his face to determine why he'd continue to rock inside you lazily. It's not enough, surely he must know that. "Please, Ani—?"

“Shh, just look at me, baby.” he coos. Tentatively, you slide your arm away from your sights, allowing your surroundings to come into focus. Yet again those patient, blue eyes await your meet. Steadfast, he's your anchor to this world, leading you back to the ground as he moves within you, and reminds you why you're here— who you're here with. To reward you for your bravery, he drives into you at his leisure until he's sheathed.

A gasp emits from you, squirming as if you could persuade him deeper. The sensation of being filled sorely missed to the point of extreme yearning. As soon as you're able to accommodate him, he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. Stuffing your center as many times as you call upon it.

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Worth The Risk

GIF by oliveoomph

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 12

Fluff.

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling 💜

Word count: 817

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Captain Marvel walks crestfallen back to her ship after an unsuccessful mission. She becomes alarmed when she notices the ship's door open before she can command it, until she sees you on the gate's panel. She steps into her home, vanquished.

"Good mission?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"No," Carol's tone is dry, once she fully enters the ship you close the door, "how long have you been here?" she questions while taking her boots off and angrily throwing them to the side.

"A few hours, heard you were struggling, so I was sent as backup."

She stops in the middle of unzipping her suit, "And?" There's a mixture of expectation and disbelief in her voice.

"I decided it would be more entertaining to let you fail and then help you regroup in the morning," you grin.

"You watched me get my ass kicked and did nothing?"

"I didn't do nothing, I took notes on what not to do."

She rolls her eyes, "You're the worst."

"It's just your luck I was the only available agent," you shrug.

"Whatever." She pushes past you.

You turn around to face her again, "By all means, continue to undress in front of me."

"Enjoying the show?"

"You know I am, Captain." A smirk forms on your face as you grab her by the waist and place a chaste kiss on her lips, "Are you okay?" you whisper when you pull back.

She feigns offense, "Now you care?"

"I always care." You kiss her again, a little hungrier this time.

"So much that you just sat there and watched me get my ass handed to me." She tries and fails to appear angry.

"It's not often I get the opportunity to tease you, I had to take it, don’t be a sore loser."

"I am literally a sore loser right now," she giggles.

"You're my sore loser." You lean in again, she deepens the kiss and you squeeze her hip in response causing her to wince in pain. "Ah, shit, sorry."

"You're okay," she reassures you.

"But you're not, let me fix you up."

"Later," she mumbles into your lips as she pulls you back in. You continue to make out for a while in an attempt to make up for all the time you spend apart and when the pain becomes too uncomfortable to bear, she allows you to take her to the couch to patch her up like you've done so many times before.

"How've you been, other than a sore loser?" you ask as you clean some blood off her shoulder.

"I’ve been okay, lonely, but I can manage, you?"

"Same, except I have to deal with idiots all day." You place the first aid kit on the coffee table once you’re satisfied with your work.

"So the moment you to got out of there, you came here to be an idiot yourself."

You try your best to look insulted, "Excuse you?"

"I could have been seriously injured, or taken, or killed!"

"You know I would have stepped in if I thought you were in any real danger, right?" you reply in a softer voice.

"If you had stepped in we would be on our way home now, relaxing, celebrating, maybe with a bubble bath, candles, and rose petals, but you went and acted like an idiot." Her tone is taunting, she knows exactly how to play you.

You look around intrigued, "You have rose pedals here?"

"I have a stash for emergencies." She brushes it off like it’s nothing.

"What kind of emergencies require a stash of rose pedals?" A feeling of jealousy starts to bubble inside you.

"When I call for back up and it's you, and you do your job properly." You drop your playfully insulted ruse and gasp in real indignation.

"That is rich, Danvers!" She gives you a big smile signifying she’s winning this battle, but before you give up, you pull out your big guns, "I have something to celebrate," she responds with a skeptical look as you reach into your pocket and produce a folded up piece of paper, "I’ve been pestering Fury again," you say as you hand it to her. Carol takes it and skims it over becoming speechless, "It's official, we're mission partners, indefinitely." There's a pleased look on your face, if you were still playing, you would say you won the fight, but this is more than that.

Carol’s eyes begin to swell with tears, "I can't believe it, thank you," she chokes.

"It's my pleasure, angel, I love you." You lean in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you more," she pulls away completely, "but we still can't celebrate until we deal with the mess you let happen out there."

"Oh, I’m sure we can make an exception." You push her to lay on the couch and continue to make out again.

Next Carol update will be part 7.5, I promise!

[takenbypeter]

A Letter From the Heart

Ben Poindexter x reader

Words: 911

You hadn’t meant to find that letter. You didn’t even know it existed. It was honestly all by chance that you found that neatly folded piece of paper. 

You were hanging out with Dex that afternoon, (just as you’ve done so many times before), and in knowing you’d be arriving soon he decided to clean himself up with a shower after an…intense work day, so that’s where he was when you had entered his apartment. 

“Dex, I’m here!” You shouted, stepping near to the bathroom, while he shouted back a, “hello,” back followed by a, “be out soon!”

You gave a single nod to yourself before setting your bag down in the spot Dex had designated for you. 

You had been left alone in Dex’s place many times before, he trusted you. In the whole fourteen months that you’ve been together, he had no reason to doubt you. 

The only difference compared to the other times was that right now your phone was boring you. There was nothing to do and you were bored of the few games that you had on your phone so you just glanced around a little. 

With your hands held together behind your back as if you were at a museum you walked around briefly looking at the pictures he had of the two of you along the walls. 

While you strolled down memory lane you came to a stop, as a frame that hung across the room caught your eye. 

You tilt your head to one side then the other before coming to a conclusion. The frame was crooked, (which was very unlike Dex).

Swiftly making your way to the picture you notice something white sticking out from behind the frame. 

Shifting the frame some more you realize it’s a letter. Of course you then lift the frame off and once you do you realize your name is actually on the letter.

Taking the piece of tape off from the frame you take the letter and set the picture down before opening the paper. 

You didn’t know what to expect from this letter. 

Why did it have your name? Why was it hidden away? Why was there even a letter like this?

Your questions slowly became answered as you began to read the letter. 

On the first line was your name plus the date, (which was listed a short time after you two started dating.)

Hi. 

My new therapist says it’s important to write any strong feelings down so that’s what I’m doing now.

Okay, here we go. 

I have strong—intense feelings for you and I’ve never had them before, not like this.

I constantly have you on my mind and I don’t know what to do about it. 

When I’m not with you I feel dull and empty. 

I don’t like it; feeling angry and scared all the time, it’s exhausting. 

When I’m with you though I feel light.

I feel like I’m who I’m supposed to be. 

I hated who I was before you and I’m scared of reverting back to that person. 

I’m scared that one day, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. 

Scared of what I’ll become if that happens. 

I know I’m too much. 

Too intense. 

Too rigid. 

I just hope you can see past that and one day love me for me. 

I will always love you for you even if I end up scaring you off. 

Hopefully one day I’ll be strong enough to tell you this to your face.

Love, Benjamin Poindexter

You stared at the letter, eyes reading it again, almost as if the first time wasn’t enough. You’re so enthralled by his words you almost didn’t notice Dex stepping into the room. Almost. 

When Dex came into the room he immediately spotted your hands. From seeing your name sprawled across the outside material he knew exactly what was on that piece of paper. 

What he didn’t know was what you thought about it. Even with all the time you’ve been together he still found himself wondering, were his emotions too much? Did you find the letter weird? Had his words scared you off? He knew it was a bad idea to listen to that quack of a therapist. 

“You wrote this?” You asked, despite already knowing that he did.

Dex could feel his mouth dry as your eyes seemed to bore into him, waiting for him to say something—anything. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think long though. 

“Dex, this is really sweet.”

Your words seem to hit Dex, “…sweet? You don’t think it’s…extreme?” He lets out a single yet embarrassed laugh at that word. “I mean I wrote this after three weeks of being together, doesn’t that ring sort of weird?”

He knew the answer was yes, it had to be yes.

But all you did was shake your head at his questions…before nodding it, “I guess it may seem a little rushed but I think it’s nice.” You glance back down to the letter, a smile unconsciously being drawn to your lips, “Or maybe I’m just weird and I think it’s sweet because I’ve never gotten a letter like this before.”

The same smile that you wore appeared on Dex’s face as he watched in fondness. One, because he could easily see how much this meant to you, and two, because he’d gladly write you a hundred letters if he knew how happy that’d make you. 

But for now just one was enough. 

[hywenhywen]

0.04 daisy. - danielle marsh

warnings / notes - loosely based off of daisy. by wave to earth, admirer!reader + heartthrob!danielle (ish), one-sided pinning(?), non-idol au, very reader centered and minor focus on dani

wc - 2.3k

your eyes scanned through the classroom, searching for a specific person. dark brown hair had caught your attention. although many girls boasted dark brown hair, this girl was special. she had a way of lighting up every room she stepped foot in. her smile was contagious, and seemingly flawless, it could even be described as a remedy for a bad day.

the girl that possessed this enticing smile was none other than the one and only danielle marsh. she was an outstanding student, president of the surfing club, and was on the student council. her academic achievements were only the beginning of it all. she also possessed an extremely alluring visual. yet not even that could compare to her bewitching personality.

you liked to say that she had the personality of an angel, always putting others before herself, helping no matter the situation. she was humorous and had an outstanding moral compass. she was always kind and understanding. even the dullest students enjoyed her presence. you had observed all of this first hand, due to being seated behind her almost every school year.

you had never been too fond of school, yet you found yourself yearning to return every single time just to see her again. danielle had that effect on people. you did your best to avoid getting sick, although it could be considered mildly irrational and odd, you did your best to ensure perfect attendance. you woke up everyday, dragged yourself out of bed, and went to school, hoping to see her smile once again. it had become some sort of routine for you.

although you had been in the same class for almost six years, you had never spoken to one another. you kept to yourself and disappeared for most of your free period, while danielle remained with her friend group. you didn't want to force the interaction, fearing that it would feel awkward and leave a bad impression. so you waited and waited, hoping that every day would be the day you talked to her. yet that day never seemed to come.

the days had turned into weeks, and weeks into months, then before you knew it, it had been years. you had slightly given up hope, yet you still enjoyed her smile. you had chosen to just observe her from a distance, waiting for the moment to come.

when school let out for summer, your world seemed to turn into an old black and white tv. your life continued, but it was rarely fun. you occasionally ran into her while exploring new cafés and shops. those moments became your fleeting happiness.

the sound of chalk moving along the blackboard filled the room. the class room was silent aside from the random creaking of the wooden chairs. you looked down at you watch, which read 1:27, and sighed, allowing your head to fall onto your now crossed arms. you moved your pencil along the lined paper and scribbled a few words. a small pain forming on your middle finger from holding the pencil too tight.

you let go of the pencil and looked up only to find danielle marsh staring at you. your eyes widened slowly before your body moved on its own. your head quickly looked down, your eyes shifting direction rapidly. a well manicured hand could be seen sliding a small paper onto your notebook. your eyes stared at the paper and you began to become curious.

you lifted your head slowly and reached to grab the paper. opening the neatly folded piece of paper, you saw a question.

‘did you understand the lesson?’

you grabbed your pencil and answered the question. lightly tapping on your desk, you caught danielle’s attention and sliding the paper towards her. she grabbed the paper and read your response. she quickly wrote something down and placed it back on your table. she had written another question down.

‘can you explain it to me after school?’

you hastily wrote down a simple ‘yes’ and returned the paper.

danielle turned and smiled at you. your face warmed up, your heart beat accelerated. you smiled back, your eyes turning into small crescents.

for the rest of the class you were in a state of euphoria, your dopamine levels seemed to have reached an all-time high. a small smile remained on your face. the rest of the class seemed to go by so slowly. you glanced up at the clock every few seconds, wondering if time had slowed down. you began to grow impatient, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

73 long and dreadful minutes had finally passed. now you only had one class left before you would meet up with danielle. you grabbed your stuff and put them in your bag. you looked up from your bag to see danielle.

“can we meet in the gym?” she asked. “i have volleyball practice today.”

“uh, yeah sure.” you said, mentally checking your schedule. “for how long do you have practice..?”

“not too long, just about half and hour.” she said, tugging on her bag’s strap.

“ok, i’ll see you there then.” you said, grabbing your bag and hastily walking out of the classroom.

after another 80 minutes, classes had finally concluded. you made your way to the gym and walked at a quick pace. you opened the gym door and there she was. danielle spotted you and showed you were to sit and place your things. you set your things down on the bleachers and took out your phone.

you checked the time and saw it read 4:10, you looked back up and saw the team begin their drills. your lack of knowledge on the sport was finally revealing itself. you continued observing, noticing small details about danielle that you had never seemed to notice. the small frown on her brow when she couldn't receive the ball, the way she shook her head lightly when she began to become frustrated. the way she tapped the tip of her foot on the floor before the game began interested you.

you continued that for the next half hour. when the buzzer sounded, danielle grabbed a water bottle and jogged over to you.

“what’d you think?” she said, promptly taking a quick sip of water.

“it's cool,” you started. “looks a bit tiring though.”

“it is tiring,” she paused briefly, presumably to catch her breath. “but it’s really fun.”

“seems fun..” you mumbled. “should we get started?” you asked, looking at your watch.

“oh yeah, of course.” she said, smiling at you. “i’ll go get my notebook.” danielle ran down the bleachers and disappeared into the locker room. she came back shortly, her notebook and pencil in hand.

“so you have to add 273 to the degrees celsius to get kelvin..?” danielle repeated, although it seemed more like a question.

“yeah, and to get celsius from kelvin, you have to subtract 273.” you explained. “if you need more help you can ask me whenever.”

“i’ll make sure to do that.” she said, warmly smiling at you. “how are you going to get home..?”

“oh, i’m going to walk.” you said, putting your stuff away in your bag.

“well then, i’m going to head out.” she said, bowing her head slightly. “thank you for the help, i’ll see you tomorrow.” she smiled and lowered her head once again.

“bye danielle.” you said, waving lightly at her.

you watched as she went down the bleachers and out the doors. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. your heart was racing and your body temperature was high. you picked up your bag and began to leave the gym.

after what seemed to be fifteen minutes, you had arrived home. you made your way directly to your room. you set your book bag down near your desk and grabbed a sheet of lined paper. pulling your pencil out of its case, you began to document the details of your day. you began from the beginning, explaining a potential injury due to a simple moment of carelessness, all the way to the end, when you helped danielle after school.

finishing your journal entry, you wrote down the date and time and ‘signed off’ for the night. you began to do some simple chores alongside your schoolwork, and then you ate dinner.

when dinner ended, you excused yourself and went to shower and do your nighttime routine. you finished the day by taking some vitamins and then you did your dental hygiene routine and headed to sleep.

(pretend there is a spacer🤥)

your alarm blared loudly, echoing throughout your mildly empty room. you sluggishly moved your hand to turn off the alarm. once the alarm was off, you yawned and began to rub your eyes gently with your hands. you began to sit up and stretched your arms out as if you were trying to grab something. yawning once again, you got up from your bed and finally began your day.

you got dressed, dragging your feet along with every move. finally being pulled out of your tired feeling, you headed to the kitchen and put a slice of bread into the toaster. you moved around quickly, reaching into the fridge to grab some strawberries. you washed the red fruit as you waited for the bread to be done. you sliced the fruit and placed it into a small bowl.

the toaster dinged and the bread shot up. you rapidly grabbed a plate and placed the bread on the plate. you set the plate and the bowl down on the kitchen island and sat down. you took this time to check your social media and notifications you received at night. after around fifteen minutes you finished eating and set the dishes in the sink, opting to wash them when you got back from school. you washed your hands and grabbed your bag, you headed out the door a few moments later.

the walk to school was quiet. the wind blew gently and then sun shone dimly. the sky was a light shade of grey, many clouds could be seen. you enjoyed the light breeze as it grazed your skin. the day seemed to be going perfectly, after all, the shade was always your place.

continuing your walk, you put on your headphones and began listening to some music. scent by oceanfromtheblue started to play. you immersed yourself in the beat and subconsciously began to walk faster. you arrived at school in no time and there stood danielle.

had she been waiting for you? maybe you were hallucinating?

“y/n!” she called out. she motioned for you to come closer.

you approached her and took off your headphones. you hesitantly walked closer to her.

“i wanted to thank you for your help.” she said, grabbing something out of her bag. “my mom made them last night.”

she held a brown paper bag in her hands. you took the bag from her and opened it. inside were cookies, multiple types and of different shapes and sizes.

“thank you.” you said, smiling at her. you pinched yourself discreetly. you were under the belief that you were dreaming. “they smell good, i’ll eat them when i get home.”

you thanked her once again and hid your goodbyes and headed off to your class. once you arrived at your classroom, you sat down and stared out the window.

“did i make a good impression?” you asked yourself, again and again. “maybe we'll be friends in the future.”

many thoughts ran through your mind. your waiting had finally paid off, you had made a good impression, and you had finally become acquaintances.

“i'll wait patiently again.” you thought. then you heard the small patters of the raindrops. it suddenly begun raining. the forecast had predicted sunny days for the rest of the week.

“huh, how odd.” you said, watching the rain fall.

you looked out the window and saw danielle standing in the rain. you leaped from your seat and rushed out, your umbrella in hand. you raced down the school stairs, nearly tripping, and out the main entrance. you opened your umbrella and walked up to her.

“you're going to get sick.” you said, holding the umbrella over her head. “let's go inside, you’ll get cold out here.”

you failed to notice danielle’s teary eyes.

“i’m going home.” she mumbled.

“huh?” you said. “do you not feel well or something..?”

“yeah, i feel sick.” she replied. danielle didn't bother looking up from the ground. her head hung low and she sniffles every once in a while.

“are you ok? do you need medicine or something?” you asked, lowering your face to look at her face.

that's when you took notice of her tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“what happened?” you asked, you placed your hand on her shoulder.

“he broke up with me.” she said, looking you in the eye. “so suddenly, i thought we were doing fine.”

“it's his loss, i don't know one person that wouldn't like being with you.” you said. “there's a place near here, it's a flower shop and a café.”

you placed you hand on her back and began tracing shapes on her back. you took danielle's hand and let go of the umbrella and began walking off towards the café.

the doorbell chimed as you and danielle entered the place. your hair was dripping water but danielle was smiling. you told her to order whatever she wants and you headed off to the floral shop. you grabbed a daisy. you payed for it and walked back to danielle.

“what'd you get”? you asked her.

“a scone.” she replied.

“ooo, good choice, the scones here are so good.” you said, you handed danielle the daisy. “for you.”

“daisies can mean new beginnings.” you said.

“thank you y/n.” she said.

you two spent a long time at the café. you got to know each other and talked about your passions.

it seems that even in concrete a daisy can bloom. with enough patience and love, it can bloom into something beautiful. it could even change your life, turn something dull into something colorful.

(pretend there's a spacer again)

back to shore | 0.05

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tags @carlos-tk @thisbuildinghasfeelings @inflarescent @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @sanjuwrites @heartstringsduet @whatsintheboxmh @herefortarlos 🩷

Something from Flashback Fic (which I'll start posting on Sunday!) It's 2021, the day TK and Carlos break up. Carlos is drawn back to the honky-tonk...

Smiling politely but tearfully at the barman, Carlos orders a tequila slammer.

The barman blinks. “Excuse me?”

“One tequila slammer, please,” Carlos repeats, “Actually make that two!” He’s only ever had a tequila slammer during Austin Pride, at a pop-up bar with rainbow awning called Mermen on the Rocks. The silver tequila was mixed with red food dye to become pink.

The barman raises an eyebrow. He’s an older guy – a gray-bearded biker type in a leather waistcoat. His arms are covered in aged, greening tattoos of snakes curling around daggers, thorny roses growing around crucifixes. “How about one shot for the road, and then you get a taxi home and drink lots of water, son?”

“No, no, no!” Carlos appeals with flare. “I can’t go home. I have to stay right here.” He spirals a finger and then bounces it against the bar. “Right here.”

“Why can’t you go home?”

“I don’t have one. I mean I do. I’m a homeowner.”

“Okay.”

“But I was staying with my…my…” Carlos keeps swirling his finger in the air, like he’s aiming to land on words visible only to him. “But! You know. Sometimes.”

“Ah. Yeah,” The barman smiles. He has a gold tooth. Shiny. “I think I get what you’re saying.”

“Thank you. You’re the only one who does.” He’s also the only person Carlos has talked to since TK fled from him at 2 p.m. this afternoon.

“Women trouble,” the barman says definitively.

“Something like that.”

“We’ve all been there.”

“I haven’t.”

“No?”

“I mean. I have. Literally with a woman.”

“Uh huh.” The barman surreptitiously fills a glass with water and pushes it towards Carlos slowly.

“But this is different. TK’s different.”

“Flowers. Chocolates. A groveling apology. It’s all we’ve got.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The barman stifles a laugh. “You almost certainly did.”

“All I did was buy an apartment for us. Without mentioning it. But like…it was meant to be a happy thing. A nice surprise. It was meant to be, like…hey I got you a piece of forever, and this piece of forever has great light, and it’s near clubs and that really good bakery. You know?”

“Sounds like a good forever to me.”

“I thought so.”

“Have a little water, son.”

Carlos seizes his glass of water in both his large hands, like he has the dexterity of a three-year-old. He sips from it gently. “This is good,” he says, as if the barman has given him something new and delicious. “My partner is totally sober. My ex, I mean.” His voice cracks as he cries. “I haven’t been drunk like this in a long time.”

“That does not surprise me.” The barman sighs and hunches, leans his folded arms on the bar to create a little privacy with his shadow. He lets the strange man cry in his presence, as many have done before.

“We had our first dance here. First kiss. First–”

“Son, look at me and listen,�� the barman says firmly. Carlos does. He looks into friendly blue eyes surrounded by crinkled skin. “Tomorrow is a new day. You sober up yourself, and then you take that pretty girl the biggest box of chocolates your money can buy, and the biggest motherfucking bunch of roses too. You get down on your knees and tell her you love her with your whole dumbass heart. I’ve got no other advice for you, than to try.”

Tags below + open tag!

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @inkweedandlizards @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @orchidscript @basilsunrise @mikibwrites @fitzherbertssmolder @ambiguouspenny @wandering-night19 @catanisspicy @sugdenlovesdingle @noxsoulmate @theghostofashton @paperstorm @reyesstrand @goodways @bonheur-cafe @freneticfloetry @rosedavid @chicgeekgirl89 @spaghett-onaplate @liminalmemories21 @never-blooms @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @ladytessa74 @lightningboltreader

❤️ 🩷 🧡 💛 💚 💙 🩵 💜

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - November 19

Hey, y’all! Here’s what I read this week. I’m exhausted, and excited--my best friend is coming to see me!!!--so I don’t have anything to add this week. I won’t be able to do next week’s list because I’ll be traveling, so I’m gonna put up some of my favorites or maybe a trope list? Anyone got a trope y’all want me to do a list for? 

Any--comment and kudos for your authors, friends! 

~*~ 

pass through life at my side by silkspectred

Tony’s birthday feels like a new beginning in so many ways. Steve is back from his worst nightmare, Tony is back from his coma. They’re rebuilding the team.

It feels good to be back.

they move on tracks of never-ending light by silkspectred

In an alternative future created by a time-traveling Peter Parker, Tony Stark has been dead for a year. Steve can’t let him go.

this will destroy you by silkspectred

The screen flashes in front of his eyes. It takes him entire seconds to realize that it’s an incoming call.

shelter from the storm by silkspectred 

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Slut Era by BladeoftheNebula

Tony never meant to become the campus bicycle but since that was apparently what was expected of him he figured it was easier just to lean into it.

He just never expected Steve Rogers would ever want to take a ride.

submerge me in your will by captainstars 

“Hey,” Tony says. Steve’s heart thunders in his chest, his hands twitch by his side and he folds them under his chest to keep them from doing something stupid. They just look at each other for a moment. Tony registers the signs of age around Steve’s eyes, the glimpses of silver in the pale blonde of Steve’s hair. Steve takes in the pinked scar curving around Tony’s eye and jaw, and his prosthetic arm.

Steve feels like he’s a second away from breaking apart after months of clinging onto the pieces of himself. “Hey,” he replies, instead of all the other things he wants to say.

Marks On Your Skin by Becci_chan

Steve still wondered what Natasha was trying to achieve by making him confess his feelings for Tony. She was right, of course she was. It didn’t mean Steve wanted to admit it in front of her. Or in a place where Tony could come in any time. He had almost heard him say he wasn’t in love with him. Steve wasn’t sure which would have been worse.

Not One of Blood by RurouniHime

It’s just another Sunday, until it isn’t, and Tony’s own life becomes the very last thing he’s concerned about.

A Wish Your Heart Makes by Carsonian

The absolute last thing Steve's expecting is Tony Stark, and so it's fairly in character for the man to be standing on the other side of the door.

"Hi." Tony looks impatient, greeting barely out before he's walking past Steve and into the apartment. 

The First Time I Went Dancing Sober by schemingreader 

Steve Rogers is a great physical therapist who works with sick kids. Tony Stark is a damaged biotech engineering genius who really wants to be one of the good guys.

Inevitable by Naxa1818

After Tony lost a bet to Steve he has to go through a week of basic training. If only he hadn't just had a revelation about the super soldier. It was going to be a long week.

On the Road We Find the Journey Home by navaan 

In the Aftermath of Secret Empire, Steve goes on his Road Trip to find out who Captain America can be after Hyda!Cap put fear into the hearts' of the people who used to cheer for him. His thoughts trail back to Tony.

Side Effects by elimymoons

"So what I'd like to propose," Tony continued on, "is for you to let me help you out a little, yeah? We'll work off some of this energy, some of this adrenaline, and you don't have to worry about hurting yourself anymore, okay?"

Steve's in a bit of trouble. Tony wants to help him out. Sexily.

Out of Order by archwrites (Arch) 

Look, Steve wants to like Tony, but the man is impossible. Frankly, Steve's kind of a mess, too. Hatesex, pining, some angst, a little fluff, friendship, more sex, and even a little plot (a very little). But not in that order.

[izuhan]

small but certain happiness︱bang chan

pairing: alpha!bangchan x omega!reader ︱genre: fluff ︱word count: 0.7k︱warning: may contain grammar errors, not proofread, mention of heat, bite marks, just omegaverse thingsz

a/n: hello, there's many of you now omg soo enjoy this brainworm I've had for days lol

Chan brings his work home rarely. 

The reason could vary from his own health, known as ‘Getting Kicked Out By Changbin’, to his lover at home, also known as ‘Missing Chan Too Much’ or... ‘Heat Time’. He looks forward to the last two most of the time though.

Those times were when you would shower him with random kisses and tuck him to bed, force him to sleep by tiring him out in various ways, and if he didn’t do so? You would attack him—drag him across the rooms you two have, only to use his room because of his scent overflowing in there.

Chan would simply enjoy being dragged by the collar of the shirt he’s wearing. On chances it’s stretched afterward, that’s another piece of clothing to add to your collection.

Tonight though, you were tame. He was happy you were, sleeping by his side and being the Omega that you are. Nuzzling and purring so close to him—he wants to attack you so lovingly.

He pats your head one more time, having the time of his life since the last edit of what he’s working on has been sent to Changbin.

“You're so adorable, love.” he melts at the sight, he would not think you could take him to a fight on your own, courting him instead of vice versa. It was a hilarious series of events starting from liking you and being so subtle about it, you couldn’t help but lash out at him and declared your courtship right there and then.

Chan has gotten his revenge though. Trailing his fingers over the darkened bite mark on your neck, and another right above your collarbone. He made it deep enough to last this long; you know nothing of it but his rivals are arising in numbers these days because of your scent sweeter than usual—your heat is almost there.

That could also be the reason you’re acting strange around him. Your Omega might be taking over, which is why you didn't know how to form words properly last night, scratched him on his leg with your nails, and screeched and hissed at him to not get close. Chan could laugh at you—he finds you adorable. He loves the way your face folds into a lovable face to a fury of caution.

Although he has to wait for you to become like this—peaceful and in need of a presence of affection—Chan’s the one filling that position for you and only you. He knows you would say that as well, which makes him love you as much as you do.

Chan softly sighs, kissing your head for the last time before his phone vibrates.

‘Ah. Hyung, the file is corrupted ㅎ ㅗ ㅎ’

With an airy, in denial laughter to himself, he works again.

A few moments later, he could hear you get up. Stretching your arms and back, groaning at the sight of Chan working. You decided it would be a great idea to stare at him until he looks at you.

After all, you are quite out of your mind.

‘Will he notice?’ 

“Shut up, he will.”

Chan fights back his giggles. You must be unaware he could hear you perfectly.

He was almost done, the only bit he had to do is to check if it was not corrupted when sending it to someone by sending it to himself and still hearing you shushing yourself. See, you're too adorable for him.

“So... what are we doing?” He looks up from his laptop, a wide smile plastered on his face.

Your eyes narrowed, and a pout slowly formed on your mouth. “What do you think?” And finally, Chan can let out his beautiful laughter sounding like music in your ears.

“Attention?” He guessed, too on the spot.

“Yes...”

Chan wasted no time letting you haul next to him even more. Though you're squeezing the life out of him, he loosened himself by leaning down, tasting your sweet lips against his. You both could drown in happiness or misfortune, you don't care.

This, this is only a bit of happiness you could feel in your life together but sometimes it's too much to catch up, though it's better that way than having to lose the love you both fought and killed for.

[life-in-the-garden]

A Spell for Bisclavret

Introduction

I don’t talk about my academic life here much, so for those who aren’t in the know: I’m an undergrad in the US working towards an English degree (going part-time because I also have to work to earn my daily bread like the wage slave that I am). Last semester was… incredibly stressful, but I ended up really enjoying a class about romances written in medieval Europe. We started with eight of the Lais (long poems) of Marie de France, a woman writer of the time period, and one of those Lais was titled “Bisclavret.” If you aren’t aware, Bisclavret is an Old French word for “werewolf” AND is the name of the main character… since songwriters in the Middle Ages weren’t exactly subtle much of the time.

The spell I created—and am now sharing with you—was inspired by the character Bisclavret and his story, and draws upon the power of this knightly werewolf of yore.

image credit

If you want to read a translation of Marie de France’s “Bisclavret,” you can do so here. This isn’t a translation that I’m fond of (I think the rhyming is unnecessary), but it’s free to access and gets the gist across just fine. On the off chance that you want to read the translation that I actually recommend, which includes the Old French source text alongside the English, then check out The Lais of Marie de France: Text and Translation by Claire M. Waters.

If you don’t want to read a good many lines of poetry, here’s the summary: In his story, the knight Bisclavret is tricked by his scheming, adulterous wife into revealing his wolf form to her, whereupon she becomes frightened and hides his clothes. Therefore, Bisclavret cannot change back into his human form, and so lived in the wilderness as a wolf until found by King Arthur and brought to Camelot. There, in the court, he behaves so courteously that everyone remarks at how noble and regal the wolf is… until Bisclavret sees his former wife and her new husband, whom he attacks. Arthur, who believes that the wolf would not attack without reason, interrogates the human couple and learns the truth about Bisclavret. The werewolf’s clothes are returned, and he transforms back into a man as Arthur orders the exile of Bisclavret’s ex-wife and her husband from the realm.

This spell, titled "Garwolf," is a piece of baneful magic intended to punish a thief.

Garwolf

You will need:

1 or more pieces of paper for writing upon

a writing implement

a method of destroying the paper, ideally via fire (and all associated fire safety accouterments) or else via a shredder, scissors, or what have you

Method:

Think of a time where something was stolen from you. The stolen thing doesn't need to be a physical item; maybe an abusive parent stole a happy childhood from you, for example. This spell assumes that the stolen thing has been permanently lost in spite of your best efforts to retrieve it, and that you cannot find peace through mundane methods. If the only option left is magical retribution for the hurt you've undergone, then this spell is for you.

Take the paper and write a letter about the person who stole from you. (if you can't write easily or struggle to read your own handwriting, you are absolutely allowed to type the letter on a computer/phone and then print it out). Pour out all the hate in your heart onto the page. Describe how you were hurt, and how it made you feel, and how you want the target of this baneful working to feel and what they should suffer as recourse for the pain they've caused you. You are an entire human being who deserves respect, dignity, and safety; don't minimize your own feelings here. Let it out and hold nothing back. (This step focuses your intention).

When the letter is finished, fold it up as small as you can and carry it on your person for three days and three nights (approximately 72 hours). Shortly after each time you wake up during this period, read the letter aloud to yourself and ruminate on your feelings towards the target. Do the same thing before going to sleep. Remember that you are worthy and that nobody has the right to make you feel lesser. (This step charges the spell).

When the three days and nights are finished, read the letter aloud a final time and then destroy it with all the rage and hatred you can muster. Tear it to pieces! Burn it! Shred it! Render your words unrecognizable as you release your energy into the universe to carry out your will of bringing misfortune, hardship, and/or suffering upon the spell's target. (This step casts the spell).

(If destroying the letter via fire, remember to follow all applicable fire safety procedures and don't burn down your surroundings in the process).

To cool down from casting this piece of emotionally intensive baneful magic, practice some self-care. Make yourself a cozy beverage and/or take a luxurious bath or shower, for example, and remember that you have an innate worthiness that can never be stolen from you.

If you found this spell intriguing, please consider tossing some spare change towards my ko-fi so that I can continue sharing my magical work!