#I need to make a more general about page eventually…

[naitosutan]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SWEET RESPONSE!! 🍭🍭

(I didn't know how to respond to your tags on your reblog so I thought I would just send you an ask-)

I'm glad you thought I had some good concepts, I'm terrible at explaining things so it's nice to know that some people understood what I was getting at. And your tsum tsum steek drawing lives rent free in my head, it is so fricking cute. I love tsum tsums!! And I was glad I could influence your love of Steek, kvasgi's art of Steek was one of the first pieces of art for that ship that I saw which was part of the reason why I got into the ship too! And your sister's art is super cute as well, I love it all so much, especially her AU!

Since I'm here, I'd like to ask you, who are your favorite characters and what are your favorite ships?

Thanks again for the sweet response, have a great day!! ❤️❤️

@/steeklover AHH I’M SO SORRY I FOOLISHLY SAVED YOUR ASK AS A DRAFT ON MOBILE AND TUMBLR ATE IT 😭 Luckily, I had part of my response written already and I’ll try to reply as best I can to what I remember of your ask!

Did you know I’m a fool and inept at anything technology ._. I found the ask; somehow I saved the ask in my drafts completely separate from my response ahskkgj

Pls forgive me for the repost, I wanted to keep the original ask attached 🙇🏻‍♀️

(ALSO HELLO I DID NOT FORGET OR IGNORE THIS I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO ANSWER CONCISELY AND GOT BUSY AHAKDLGK)

ACTUALLY *YOU* ARE THE SWEETEST AGALLFJA

I think you explained yourself pretty well! Legit, I always love reading your thoughts on Steek and seeing the ideas you have for them, whether it be your mood boards or playlists, I enjoy your ideas! You are THE Steek shipper to me so I really value your perspective on them and keep some of your posts in mind whenever I try to portray them!

Tsums are definitely a long standing obsession of mine lol Evie says thanks for the praise as well! Her AU means a lot for the three of us ✨

(Long post so favs and ships under the cut haha)

To answer your questions, I’d say Tweek is my favorite from the show, but Stan had definitely settled into also being a major fav of mine! When I was first watching it, I went into season six a bit bitter about Tweek taking Kenny’s spot but… he’s just a little dude :3 Simpsons Already Did It is one of my top favorite episodes lol Stan was a surprising favorite but I guess following him and his friends around the most, I really liked the way he was characterized and the struggles he deals with? I also love Kenny content 🥺🧡 Anything and everything for Kenny lol

Anyways, here are some of my top favorite ships!! As you can probably tell, my sisters and I have a lot of overlap in the ships we like, and tend to influence each other a lot lol I’m a multi-shipper who generally likes a ton of ships and also really enjoy crackships and rare pairs cuz of the untapped potential of interactions that could happen! I also enjoy polys but for simplicity I’ll put just pairings here! I had tried organizing them in a tier list but… it ended up as a ranking list anyways so…

Stenny - I actually surprised Kim a lot when I first brought up that I liked her old flame lol My first and my fav ship, there’s something about them that makes me extremely happy and I can’t quite explain it. It probably has to do with their personalities and interactions, but I can’t really articulate it into words haha I also love all the fan created content of them! They’re lovely and adorable 💖

K2 - The OTP of my sisters means a lot of amazing fics recommended to me that makes it hard to not love lol I’m not picky about how the dynamic is portrayed, I’m always down for these two together! They baby 🥹

Steek - <333 SO much love for these two! Like I had said you were definitely a big reason for it. Plus why NOT ship your favorite characters together? They both have a tendency towards destructive patterns that I think the other could relate to, especially with seeking validation on their feelings? I think potential interactions between these two are severely under explored so I’m always searching for more Steek content!

Revin - OKAY. This one was definitely a ship I shipped from the show before looking at the fan content lol Constantly seeing them together in the background just reminded me of playground crushes, and their moments were small but cute. AND THEN WHEN THEY BROKE UP I WAS DEVASTATED. CONFIRMATION THEY WERE DATING AT THE COST OF THEIR BREAK UP AND NEVER SEEING THEM TOGETHER AGAIN 😭 We’ve also headcanoned their personalities quite a bit and so I like to think of them both being a bit airheaded? Kevin constantly thinking about his sci-fi and Red seemingly not pay attention to things around her? Kevin calling their fruits sandwiches and Red just going along with it was also funny even if it’s just an animation error lol ALSO KEVIN BEING SO SAD AT THE BAY OF MEMORIAL PIGS DANCE AS RED DANCED WITH TOLKIEN I CAN’T 😭 I love little background details the most when it comes to characters, I think.

Crenny - Again, Kim was a big influence in me liking Kenny ships, also Crenny has some of the most beautiful and heartfelt works I’ve ever seen and read? I think things would be pretty easy with these two and they’ve had some good moments together!

Cryle - I know people say they don’t interact much but when has that ever stopped me lol They’re both stubborn in different ways, Craig more passive and Kyle more confrontational, I think? Like, I really liked the scene in Fishsticks where they’re both advising Jimmy. They were basically indirectly arguing against each other and I think that’s such an interesting and fun dynamic lololol There’s enough there for me to enjoy them together!

-

Creek - Just LOOK at them lol. I do admit I like them a lot in the show but don’t seek them out in fanworks but they’re great <3

Stendy - I HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABOUT THEM TOO. Like Stendy is complicated but they’re also elementary school kids, of course they’re not gonna know how to relationship properly. But they’re still so messy?? And it’s just on their personalities mannn. I think Stan very much takes his friends for granted sometimes and especially his girlfriend. And Wendy isn’t a part of his friend group enough to really be comfortable discussing their faults? Like obviously he’s done some things and she has as well but things are always resolved offscreen or brushed aside so we never really see how they get over it. Basically they’re cute when he’s pining or when they’re domestically together and supportive but when they’re just not paying attention to each other they’re difficult lol

Stolkien - Another ship from the show, I think their interactions are always so fun, especially in the later seasons 🥺💕

Staig - I love rivals lol I think fandom plays up their hatred for each other a lot but Scauses really convinced me that they do notice each other lol That and Craig likes stirring the pot a lot XD

.

.

.

It feels like I’m missing so many characters and ships but I had to limit myself! Ten is enough haha (shout out to all the ships I do ship but didn’t make it to this list 😔) I tried to keep this short lol

I hope your days have been great as well!! Thank you so much for the ask!! 💖

#forgive me for being boo-boo the fool 😔😂 #I kept the ask pretty much intact without changing it so I could delete the original post #ty again for the message! 💕 #dz rambling #sp speaking #not sp #show and tell #edit: adding it here cuz they’ve been plaguing my mind recently - my next favs are Twyle Twenny and Kendy #if I did keep the tiers the first six are my bigger favs I think lol #ships that would get me run off of TikTok fr frrrr lol #the more I see of the BIG ships on my fyp the less I wanna ship any of them lol #this is after I already greatly dislike one of them haha #no shade to anyone who ships anything! I just really REALLY don’t like this one particular ship!! #you’ll still see me occasionally reblog ships even if I don’t really ship them tho so it doesn’t make much of a difference #I try to be thorough when tagging ships but if anyone wants anything else tagged PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me! #I need to make a more general about page eventually…

[raifuujin]

It’s done!

The directory of all the various DC related books (that I own) has been completed!

Not all of the scans are mine, when other people have shared for the main series and spinoffs over the years, but a very solid chunk are my scans of all the ‘unimportant’ material. (If other people had good scans, I opted to save my own time, even if I could scan my own copies, basically.) And now it’s all fairly organized in one easy access list!

Includes: Conan, Kaito, Yaiba, the novels, movie manga, educational manga, activity books, tokubestuhen, archives, game guides, etc.

Now that it’s caught up, I’ll try to keep it up to date when I get more books in the future.

#detective conan #magic kaito #dcmk #reference #The pinned post has been updated as well; to encourage using the list first; though the drive in general is still an option #If anything is wrong with scans; just let me know #Page missing or messed up scan is an easy fix #Though also let me know if like. A file isn't there at all #I direct to other people's folders when it seemed fitting; but that means I don't know if they disappear at some point #They've been around a while but it's always a slight concern #Even if scans aren't mine; I do own anything on this list. I've saved stuff a few times over #Later tag: I've beein going back through the folders and. Will probably make changes #Eventually #Most things need the covers scanned; and that's fine to have skipped and more for conformity #But I apparently just scanned the manga part of science books which #Fair to my past self because the informational sections are the least cared about #But I would like to actually have everything #...But I'm taking a break after a solid two weeks of scanning so #Just a list for now

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Not to be a Negative Nancy... but is anyone else worried that with Kingdom Hearts IV coming out after Final Fantasy XVI and Final Fantasy VII Rebirth, it's going to feel so much lesser in comparison?

Because I kind of feel that way... and I know I'm not the only one, in some cases. Like, I remember how in the Key Keepers' spoiler discussion Final Fantasy XVI spoiler cast, Audrey (somewhat jokingly) mentioned how no matter what epic thing they try to do with the boss fights in Kingdom Hearts IV, it wouldn't be on the level of the Eikon fights in Final Fantasy XVI, so it wouldn't have as big an impact on her as those did (paraphrasing here).

And then KHInsider has a thread going on right now, about how Kingdom Hearts IV shouldn't try to take too much from FFVIIR--as they are different games--and user Luminary agreed with that, but brought up how I feel: that if they do take any inspiration from Rebirth, it should be the good character writing and interactions, and cinematography--since they've now shown they know how to do that, and if they don't do that in KHIV, it'll feel like a downgrade.

But I'm just worried that they won't. Especially where the girl characters and interactions are concerned.

I mean, we have new writers on KH now, so maybe they can help make things better than they have been before. But IDK.

#i just feel like square enix. as a whole. is making a lot of decisions that are hurting kh right now #like in having radio silence for years now pretty much. allegedly because they were having trouble getting missing link off the ground #and i know it's because missing link is apparently what we need to know next. but if it were me--and we were having that much trouble with #it--i would have course corrected and made it so missing link WASN'T the game we needed to know next then (because we know from the phase 2 #calendar they showed they're planning more games of course) and made it something else and released that instead until missing link could #have finally been released #i also feel like having kh ride so much on mobile games in general now is a mistake #and yeah: i do think they should have been advertising khiv some during rebirth's marketing... and right now #ANYWAY. about the thread on khinsider. it's about how a ton of people right now are saying how kh should take a page out of rebirth's book #but this particular person doesn't entirely agree because ff and kh are very different series in some regards #for me personally i would definitely be okay with kh taking some ideas from rebirth (like the ones i mentioned above) and even some other #ones but definitely not all of them. because op of the thread IS right about ffvii rebirth and kh being different games #but back to my original point: i do think khiv. when it does eventually come out. is going to look like a worse game because ffvii rebirth #came out first. and even probably ffxvi depending

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading &lt;3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth

[asliceofzosan]

sanji has always known he loved zoro.

subconsciously.

it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.

so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.

but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.

and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.

to be worth something to someone.

sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.

he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.

maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.

zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.

and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.

but who exactly was he trying to save?

what kind of hero has no one to save?

it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.

of course he fucking did.

he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.

and if he was in love?

well.

sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.

there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.

the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.

the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.

and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.

the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.

so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.

no one except zoro.

so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.

even if he never heard those three little words.

what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.

but he believes in sanji. he always did.

#i cooked smth at the dead of night again hi everyone #one piece #roronoa zoro #zosan #roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji #niki's fics: three little words #i saw someone post about how sanji probably said i love you first and zoro never actually saying it and well... this happened #: D

[ystrike1]

Ashe: the coveted maid - By Yoo Rang Baam (9/10)

This is a lovely yandere fairy tale. The art is fairly generic in some panels. It is short. If the art consistently matched the cover page it would be an instant classic. Two lost, unwanted young lovers take over a corrupt mansion. They're damaged, and devoted. There's mutual love and happiness galore, after the true heir dies a gruesome death.

Ashe is a pretty dummy. She's been sold to a certain family. The heir, Lance, is a giant perv. He uses his maids as his personal harem. Ashe is just another body.

Lance is handsome. Perfect. Most of his maids are noble women who are actively trying to marry him. His blue blood protects him from any and all consequences. Ashe fears him. She humiliates herself for him, but it's never enough.

Ashe is skittish and uneducated because her mother disliked her. Her sister was even prettier than her. Her sister married a wealthy man. She secured a huge dowry for her mother. Her mother put a huge amount of pressure on her. Told Ashe she somehow had to bring home more bacon than her super lucky Goddess of a sister.

She, of course, collapsed under the pressure. Her mother eventually sold her to Lance to make a buck.

Ashe eventually meets Tristan, the bastard son. He's sort of like her. Everybody treats him like a ghost. He must live in a secret basement. He is the son of a maid. Nobody really knows why he's still alive. Lance could have killed him, but Lance is evil.

He likes to taunt his brother, and leave him in squalor.

Eventually, Ashe and Tristan become lovers.

Lance hates his competition. He's the type of heir that knows he isn't that impressive deep down. All he has is his family name and money. He scarred Tristan to make him a monster. A tainted thing. He knows he's not that smart, so he calls Tristan a fake. He abuses his brother to make himself more powerful.

Tristan changes when he watches Lance abuse Ashe. He decides to let it all go. He cannot win. He wants to be happy. He tells Ashe he will run away with her, after he scrouges up some money.

He's free of the stupid chains Lance wrapped around him.

Her honest love saves him from life as an abused doll.

Lance falls down a cliff.

Now, I don't think this is a coincidence. The author specifically mentions that Lance abuses noble ladies. No doubt an angry father paid off his coachman and well...now he's even more horribly mangled than Tristan.

The house turns on Lance.

They lock Lance in the secret room, bloody and angry.

Ashe has no idea what's happening, but the house needs a leader. Tristan has been given the chance to take over.

He plans to marry Ashe (she was sold, but her mother is a noble)

Ashe runs to the secret room. Tristan used to see her almost every day. When he doesn’t visit for a week she panics.

When she checks his bed she finds Lance.

He stabs her eye out.

He has gone mad.

Why?

Well, everybody abandoned him as soon as he became disabled. He has no friends to speak of and his only good feature was his looks. One sign of weakness was it. He was deemed unfit and left to rot.

He stabs Ashe because she truly cares about Tristan, even though he has nothing to his name but kindness.

Tristan fetches his foolish love.

She tries to run.

She tells him she is ruined.

He laughs and says he will destroy anyone who dares to mention her disfigured face. She belongs by his side, proud and happy.

When they have their blowout wedding he wears lace over his scar from Lance. She wears lace too, to cover the missing eye Lance took from her.

They live happily despite his cruelty.

He definitely died off screen on Tristan's order, after he stabbed Ashe.

A tradition becomes the norm in the mansion. Every staff member and every guest must wear lace on their face. No one will ever see or comment on Ashe's face, or Tristan's. They are above reproach, and the lace masks represent them moving on. Forgetting about those who abused them.

Also, of course, it is a warning.

Any comments about the disfigured Lord or Lady will not be tolerated.

Beware.

It's not easy to anger the Lord of the house, but if you do you will lose.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #Ashe: the coveted maid

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Gaz

Gaz X AFAB!Reader | TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | John Price |Ghost

MDNI!!

Y/N was Task Force 141's combat medic, a sweet little thing that barely ever since joining had seen the light of day in a fight, they sheltered you to the base and that was it, the most action you had seen ever was on the rare occasion that Price okayed you to get on the helicopter with Nikolai to pick them up and that was it. At first Y/n was unbelievably annoyed with them when they had started developing feelings for you and started to slowly shield you from the tainted things in the world, or so they say but whenever they would throw that stupidly lame excuse around in front of you a hearty laugh would erupt from you. "Tainted world? Guys, the amount of dead bodies that I've had to leave in my wake before joining you all is enough to fill hell alone. I'm parted of that tainted things in this world."

The angry glances and scoffs that followed your attempt with reasoning with them made you hold your tongue after John's following statement. "You won't ever be apart of that world anymore, not while I'm still breathing."

It had taken a while for the team to warm up to you, the thought that General Shepard was the one to specially assign you to them didn't sit well with them till they had seen the back handed way you would openly shame him and degrade him with annoyance and slight humor gleaming in your eyes. "No wonder you have been working so well with them, rabid dogs always know how to stick together." Barking a laugh at him you made quiet the spectacular come back on his embarrassing attempt to hit on you and get you into his bed, only for you to make an impotent comment to him and his age. After which, with the brightest red face, being sure to always avoid your presence whenever possible. After that, Soap, Gaz and even John eased up on their ignoring and slanted looks, having small talks with you eventually enjoying long chats with you late into the night if you or them, couldn't sleep. Ghost still gave you hard stares every once in a while but he would at least respond back to you when you asked him anything or talked to him.

Somewhere along the way of slowly easing you out of the field and keeping you at the base, the men had even started leaving lingering touches, longing glances and sweet nicknames that would make your stomach flutter. It was one late night in John's office, you were yet again up late with him, mostly keeping him company, he sat at his desk, papers scattered, his bourbon abandoned long ago while you were insisting he drink tea after 7 if he needed to drink something, this being better for his liver. You sat in a chair on the other side of his desk, legs kicked up while you read a book from his mini library, bored mostly but you always were curious of the books he read so you pushed through, a night that was the same as any other when you would sit in his office, the sound of the clock ticking, his pen scratching along the papers and the occasional turn of a page from you. Finishing the last page you slammed the book shut, making John look up at you, stretching back into the chair you groaned loudly, "Good lord Captain, can't you read mor entertaining books? Maybe ones that also have a happy ending, thought I was going to fuckin cry, why do authors always kill the character that draws out the best in other characters?"

John set his pen down as he also leaned back cracking his back as he settled in, "You still finished the book, I would say it was entertaining enough. Would you rather I read one of your books this time maybe?"

A blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about your stash of books in your room that you kept locked in a footlocker, they were definitely dirty and maybe more sick minded than what John was used too. "Uh, no, we'll stick to your books, you definitely couldn't handle my books." A small chuckle left your lips, a smile coming up thinking about how John might blush at some of the things you've read, or even are currently reading. You wonder how he would even react to knowing that you read about girls getting absolutely destroyed in bed, so sore they can't even barely move after, even passing out because of how good it feels. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance up noticing that he was watching your lip.

"You don't think so?" You watched has his hand ran over his beard that he hadn't gotten around to trimming, or more or less you haven't, he had you take up the dutiful job of keeping his facial hair trimmed and kept up, you sometimes sitting in his lap, doing your absolute best not to grind near his crotch when seated. "What do you read then? Enlighten me." Looking away from him you tried to think if you should lie or make up an excuse and leave, to embarrassed not to tell him the truth of the filth that you read. Hearing him clear his throat, you glanced up through your lashes watching as he pointed to his lap. You had gotten so used to sitting in all their laps, your ass barely ever sat the seat of a proper chair or couch, especially in the rec room, Soap and Gaz loved to pull you up into their laps, their hands massaging your thighs or back as your fingers massaged their scalps, necks or shoulders. Ghost sometimes would push you to one side of the couch, throwing himself down, resting his head in your lap while your fingers played with his blonde hair, you hadn't gotten a chance to see his face but he does now wear sometimes a surgical mask, black. Getting up you made your way to him, sitting in his lap, feeling like a little doll, you belonged to all of them, you knew that, they knew it. As soon as you straddled his lap, his hands crept up and down your sides and thighs, you were trying to find the words you wanted to use to get yourself out of this but looking into his eyes, you were stuck.

That night, through soft words, guided affection, and encouraging embrace, John set claim to you, later in the morning notifying the rest of the lads you walked out to the rec room Gaz and Soap the first up and right in front of you like puppies. You all had a very long chat about boundaries and limits, safe words and commitment that morning. After all was aired out, you were officially locked down to the base, and eventually, surprisingly fast just accepted it.

Soap was the handsyiest, even around base, he always had his arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in your neck, there was no reining him in, this was him holding back. In the rec room, he would beg you to cuddle on the couch, which would lead to cockwarming, then eventually down right fucking, he loved having you around him, you did nothing but praise him, words he barely ever heard but yearned for. You handed them out to him like candy, without a second thought, sometimes admittedly yes, you should have told him to stop, not in public, no PDA but god, his puppy eyes always made your heart clench, you just couldn't say no to that face, the bastard.

Ghost was more reserved, having to be careful do to him being a superior officer, as well as John. That's not to say that he didn't follow you around the base when Soap wasn't glued to your hip, whenever he found his chance, he would stick to you, happy little glances his way making him preen. Getting you to the rec room where you two could be slightly more open with affection, Ghost was almost, almost unrecognizable with his little whispers, your praises making him blush, his softened eyes quietly begging for more of your attention. Once he has you in his room, god, he has you pinned under him, sometimes even holds you above him, just begging for more praise, his voice uncharacteristically cracking from emotion, your gentle hands smoothing over scars that make him flinch, whining as he thrusts into you, body breaking as you just keep giving him everything, telling him that he deserves everything, even forcing him to say he deserves this, as you kiss his body gently, caressing him, handling him as if he was the finest piece of glass that could break from even a breath. You really did enjoy giving Ghost your attention, especially when you knew at times it was helping him heal wounds that he refused to ever heal, he was your delicate flower, even if to all them, you were theirs.

John got you most nights and mornings due to how busy he was, it was unspoken but agreed upon, you slept in his bed, unless one of the others truly needed you after a bad day, or dream. Sometimes when he could spare a moment in the day away from the confines of his office and work, he sauté you out, like his own little personal mission, and you would go back with him to his room, or his office, which ever was the closest. After making sure the door was locked he would hold you, your words ringing in his soul as you held him tightly, whispering the sweetest love you could offer him that wouldn't make him rebuttal that he was too old for you, that he was being selfish in holding you the way he does. That if he was a better man, half the man you praise him to be, he would stop his advances, let you go, close himself off again, but he couldn't he was filth, worse than filth for keeping you so close. You would hush his negativity with kisses, massages and words so sweet you would see the broken captain that tried so hard to stay strong for his team, for you. You held him together as he found the warm and love he didn't believe he deserved inside you.

Gaz, sweet, patient, caring Gaz, he let you be, he never followed you, never looked for you, he gave you space. He knew you would come to him, you always do, you always make sure to divide up your days for all of them, giving them all the attention and love you could possibly offer them while trying to give yourself some in small increments whenever possible. Gaz watched as you would coddle Soap, giving in to the grown mans pleas of just the tip before absolutely destroying your little cunny on the couch, both of you spent and panting when Ghost comes in to lecture Soap on keeping that to his room. While also noticing on the rare occasion when Ghost wouldn't close his door all the way, seeing as he begs under you, quiet tears slipping down his lieutenants cheeks, your sweet words and encouraging praise breaking the man down even more before the two of you flip over, Ghost's head resting over your heart, the both of you taking a short nap in each others embrace. Seeing when his captain would take you to his office, and then hear him confined in you his fears, failures and short comings, all which you counter softly, Gaz would walk away hearing his Captain break down with you as well, before he's sure, as you had done with Ghost, hold him.

Gaz was patient, but to a point. For lords sake, he was a man too, he had needs, desires, problems, and he was apart of this team. Whenever he would notice in the past fortnight that you were making your way to him, his body would tense, a pent up of emotions flooding him, ready to be released into your caring embrace only for you to be dragged off by one of the others. Never, not once did he ever speak up with his annoyance, or aggravation, he kept quiet, waited, but, today was it, he couldn't be patient, or your good boy while Soap was dragging you away from his path to take you to his room. Gaz stood up abruptly and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, "Damnit no, it's my bloody turn with her, the lot of ya keep out my room for the night." Huffing ignoring their questioning gazes, not quite used to Gaz having that kind of tone, he carried you to his room slamming the door shut and locking it before setting you on his bed gently, he wasn't trying to take his annoyance out on you truly but he was at his limit.

"I'm sorry Kyle."

"Not you that should be apologizing, come here." Kyle got up into the bed after kicking his boots off, waiting for you to do the same as you curled up into his side, resting your hand on his chest, head over his heart listening to it pound heavily. There was a beat of silence as you stayed on his side before pushing up slightly and looking into his eyes.

"Talk to me, you have me all night I won't go anywhere."

Kyle let loose everything, everything he was feeling, had been holding in, the things that had been happening, people that had been pushing him, his desire for you, and finally he broke down to his loneliness of being without you for so long. You listened, unjudging as he started to fall silent, bring your hand up to his cheek you cupped it as you kissed his other cheek lightly, the soft look in your eyes making his heart wrench, he really did miss having you in his arms. You reassured him, changing positions as you cradled his head into your lap, breaking down everything he told you, lifting up his soul with your loving gentle touch, words lighting up his world.

After a comfortable silence befell the both of you, Gaz turned squeezing your thigh, while he moved your body where he wanted, slotting himself between your thighs, groaning as he dragged your body down the pillows. He kissed your stomach as he undid your pants and dragged them down your legs, kissing and nipping your thighs and ankles before going back down and nudging your underwear to the side laying a soft kiss to your clit. "Kyle" Wrapping your fingers into his curls you moaned, feeling his smirk against your cunny as his tongue darted out and dragged up your slit before he started grabbing at your shirt and pushing it up. Taking it from him you slightly pushed up and tugged your shirt off, feeling him moan into you you flinched as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Feeling your juices start to coat his lips and drip down his chin he sat up and pulled his shirt off, guiding his hand back down tugging on your underwear while undoing his belt and pants. Tugging on your underwear you kicked them off wrapping your legs quickly around his waist when he freed his aching cock, wrapping your arms around his shoulders you kissed him, your tongues sliding into each others mouth, reexploring each others bodies, his hand groping, mapping, feeling your body under him, his cock bobbing at your entrance, pearly beads of precum dripping onto your clit.

Pulling back, he looked between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock before lining himself up, and pushing in slowly, giving short, slow thrusts as you squeezed the back of his neck moaning into his skin. When he bottomed out inside of you the both of you groan, he was slotted in right at your cervix, fixing his position, he set either hand on each side of your head before pulling back just enough to where his tip was resting inside and then slamming back into you. Setting that pace, the neither of you could hold your moans back, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing, carrying out into the hall. Reaching your hand down you skimmed your fingers over your clit rolling it between your fingers, your back arching up, and your walls clamping down onto Kyle's cock, your orgasm washing over you quickly. Kyle fucking you through your first one smirking down at you, "First one, many more to go gorgeous."

Kyle pulled back and grabbed your hips turning you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up before sliding back in, your sensitive walls fluttering around his cock, a whimper sliding out of your mouth, his pace was quick and harder. You were sure that by the end of the night, your cervix had to be bruised but god, it was feeling amazing and you would welcome the arch for the following days. Kyle grabbed a fist full of your hair before pulling back, your back arching deliciously, pushing up onto your elbows you cried out when you felt his tip sliding against your gummy spot making your toes curl and a broken groan fall from you as you gushed around him for the second time, a cry fall out of your lips as he continued to pound into you. "Kyle, fuck, I-I can't..."

Smiling he pulled out and turned you over, pushing your knees up to your chest, both legs thrown over his shoulder and he guided his cock back in, "One more for me gorgeous, I know you can do it, come on." Crying out he relentlessly pounding into your swollen cunny, pushing his forehead against yours, sweat falling from him to you mixing with your own, your skin stuck together, your cum connecting the two of you when ever he pulls out for a moment before he pushes back against you.

Feeling him twitch inside of you, you kissed him, massaging his back and scalp feeling his hips stutter when you started, lifting your head as much as you could, you whispered sweet praise into his ear, your voice hoarse from crying and moaning. Kyle couldn't hold back, slamming his hips back into your sweet spot he pushed the both of you over the edge a groan mixed with a whimper pushed out of his chest while you cried out using whatever strength you could must to hold him as close as possible.

Slowly pulling out, he rolled beside you pulling you into him, both of you smiling exhausted, his hands rubbing your lower back and kissing your forehead. You intertwined your legs, and rubbed the sides of his neck before scratching the base of his head humming. The moment was sweet and quiet between the two of you, content with just the presents of the other. You had fallen asleep after a moment, Kyle figured he would be nice and let you rest for a few before you woke you up with his head between your juicy thighs, and his fingers restuffed deep inside you. Besides, the night was young, you guys could rest for a bit.

----

John Price |Ghost

#call of duty #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john price #x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john price smut #smut #18+ mdni #ghost x reader #john price x reader #johnny x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle x reader

[drakulana]

all it was // law x reader

this is the part two to the first spark. i definitely recommend reading that one first. read part one here!

part 3

content: fem! reader, more sloooooow burn

wc: 4.2k

༺☆༻

The crew had been preparing for departure all day. A day full of running checks and tests on all the engines and reactors within the ship. A day spent in a small boiler room with crewmates, having no choice but to shove past one another in the narrow halls, mumbling quick apologies to one another. It took five long hours to run all the tests, and they still weren’t done. They still had to start up all the generators along with actually turning on the reactors. They hadn’t even started warming up the engine room yet. Normally, they wouldn’t take this long to depart, but when given the opportunity their captain made it mandatory to run all of the checks and tests to the furthest extent. Trafalgar Law was not one to cut corners, and for once, they were not pressed for time.

The boiler room was humid and stuffy. (Y/n) was standing shoulder to shoulder, sandwiched in between Penguin and Shachi as they worked on the turbine's connection to the nuclear reactor, an assembly line formed between them. One soldering wires, one tightening bolts, and one looking over everyone’s work to make sure no mistakes were made. There was no room for error when working on machinery that was heavily relied upon. Once they were done with one part of the turbine, they’d move onto another while a fourth person would come in to look over to make sure nothing was missed. This went on for about an hour and a half, until they were finally done. However, (Y/n) still had lots of work to do. 

She had spent a week and a half on the pestilent Bronze Island gathering up all the information she could. From citizens, to landmarks. Countless hours of talking to locals, gathering double the amount of information for both her and her captain. The past week and half was filled with sleepless nights where she spent organizing all of her information, trying her best to keep quiet while she snuck off to an empty corner of the submarine. She had worked hard, and she still wasn’t done with all of her work. She made her way up to her quarters to gather up all of her things while pondering on where she wanted to do her work. She needed some place quiet. While pondering over where she was going to work tonight, a memory played back in her mind. If you ever need a place to hide, don’t hesitate to come in here to read or to finish your research. Her captain’s offer rang through her head, however, he had been scarce within the past week. Only ever mumbling a soft acknowledgment whenever accidentally brushing elbows in the narrow halls. He was busy, she knew that, and she wasn’t going to be the one to disturb him. She would hate to be a nuisance, and no matter how oddly comforting his presence was, she was not going to be selfish when it came to his time. It was not her place to do so. 

(Y/n) was exhausted, but she could not get herself to abandon her pen for just one night. She was already in the zone. Why spoil the tenacity? Walking through the mostly empty halls, she found herself in the kitchen. It was quiet, it had better lighting than the library, and was more comforting than the metal walls in her bunk. She settled into the chair and spread out her papers, eventually getting lost within her work. Pages upon pages, scrawled across in shorthand cursive. Ink smeared slightly on the edges of some of the paper, some in better shape than the others. (Y/n) paid no mind to the misspelled words, or the messy handwriting, these were rough drafts after all, and she had no plan to show them to anyone. 

It was maybe an hour before her exhaustion started to catch up to her, all the information of Bronze Island becoming one big daydream about the island. The work they did there, the people she met, all the new little details about a place she had only ever researched before were still fresh on her mind, ready to be recorded in those notes of hers. It wasn’t long into her small reverie that her captain had wormed himself into her mind. This was not the first time, and she knew it certainly was not the last. He had a way of appearing in her thoughts, her mind always coming up with a way to bring him to the forefront. Although she had to admit the thought of him was nice, it was distracting. It was inappropriate. It was unprofessional. It was many things, but why had none of the moral obstructions present stop her from indulging in her thoughts. 

She would be lying if she said that she didn’t entertain these thoughts late at night. She’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about him in ways that she shouldn’t have been thinking about her captain. How his golden eyes caught in the light, gleaming like fine jewelry. How he carried himself with such conviction, and how his predominant intelligence seemed to exude from him. There was also a dark air around him, a dangerous one. One that she found too enticing for her own good. One that shouldn't draw her closer, shouldn’t leave her wanting to understand what was under the surface. She would tell herself that it was her curious nature, alway wanting to record facts about certain people. Yeah, that’s all it was. She would reason with herself every time. It wasn’t at all the way he still seemed to look good no matter how much sleep he missed. It wasn’t the dominant energy around him, that gave everyone a reminder on why he was in charge. It wasn’t the way his commands, and comments towards her made her stomach turn, and mind wander. She was only interested for research purposes. Yeah, that’s all it was.

༺☆༻

On the other side of the ship sat Trafalgar Law. He was working on recording all the samples that he had made on the island. The steady grumble of the engines vibrated through the walls. It was comforting for them to be back to sea once again. It made him feel better to know all the checks and tests had been run on their ship before they had left as well. His crew had worked hard, and he was proud of them. It was days like this he was grateful for each and everyone of them. After all, what is a captain without his crew? He let himself feel proud for once. It was a rare feeling, he never liked to indulge himself in such petty things, like pride. Pride made a man reckless. Pride was a damning distraction. Distractions were not the kind of thing Trafalgar Law liked to mess with, not when he had goals that he had not yet accomplished. Tonight though, he let himself feel the tiniest miniscule of pride for his crew. He let himself revel in the thoughts of every single one of his crew members, but one just kept sticking out to him. (Y/n). He told himself it was because she was still newer to the crew. She was new, and had this amazing drive for new information. Her knowledge was astonishing. He would tell himself that these thoughts were strictly professional, and not at all personally rooted in the feeling that he would get when she called him Captain. It wasn’t at all the way her eyes lit up whenever he asked her about something she was writing about. It wasn’t at all the way that her cheeks would tinge pink whenever he would give her an order. He was simply just proud of his crew member. Tonight, he was letting himself feel a little proud. That’s all it was. 

The praise never stayed long when he allowed himself to feel such things. Whenever thoughts like this would arise too much for his own liking, he would bury himself in more of his work. He didn’t have time to concern himself with superficial feelings. Law stared at the pages in front of him. The recorded data was written in that same pretty cursive handwriting that had seemed to scrawl across his mind from time to time. Against his will, the owner of the handwriting was now back at the front of his mind. Two weeks ago, Law had offered his space to her. Fourteen days and she had yet to take him up on his offer. Not that he was counting. Part of him was thankful for that. Thankful that he wouldn’t have to confront the warm bubbling feeling he would get in her presence. Grateful he could ignore the electricity that would course through his limbs whenever the two brushed against each other by accident in the narrow hallways. He could ignore the way her laugh harmoniously bounced off the walls in the common area while conversing with her crewmates. He could ignore how their gazes were usually held for a second too long. On the other hand, something nagged him deep down. Thoughts of regret towards the offer threatened to arise, but whenever they did, he found himself burying himself into more of his work. The papers on his desk had remained twice as high in the past fortnight. Books were more scattered than usual. Crumpled up papers with ink smears fell around his desk. Every now and then, his mind would drift to (Y/n) and he would find himself stalling his work, staring at a page for far too long. Tracing the arches and curves of her letters and words within her work. It unnerved Law how undisciplined his mind had been lately, and over a crew member of all things. He huffed to himself and looked over at the clock that was hanging on the steel wall. 11 p.m. He needed a break, opting to go get a cup of coffee to wake him up. 

In Law’s book, 11 p.m. was hardly late. His crew turned in earlier than usual, leaving the cold corridors of the submarine empty. He made his way into the kitchen of the submarine, only to find the woman who had been taking up his mind for the past two weeks. She was sitting there at the table, papers laid out in front of her as she wrote short handedly on her notes. A small pang of odd discomfort settled when he realized she had opted to do work here rather than in the quietness of his office with him, like he had offered. The feeling quickly went away whenever she raised her head and peered up at him with her pretty eyes that always seemed to captivate him, as of lately. A small smile graced her lips as she noticed it was her captain. There it was again, the odd warm feeling that he seemed to get around her. “Good evening, captain,” she said warmly. “I see you have emerged,” she teased him. Law had been cooped up in his office for nearly a week, not counting the times he had to leave, like to eat or go to the bathroom. It wasn’t unusual for Law to work in his office for days on end, everyone knew that. Law stalked over to the woman who was sitting at the table, “What’re you working on?” he asked her, picking up a paper that had been pushed to the side. He examined the paper, holding it in between his fingers. Little doodles adorned the corners of the page, and messy shorthand was scribbled onto the lines. Information about the island that they had just departed from about a week ago. (Y/n) studied his movements closely, he had never seen the rough drafts of her work, just the edited and refined versions. “Just adding some information about Bronze Island,” she replied as she watched his face closely as he analyzed the paper. The rough draft of research was not something she shared. From corner to corner, the pages were filled with messy shorthand, and various notes in the margins while tiny doodles adorned the spaces in the corners. She was very nervous for her captain to see these. She watched as his face remained still as ever, the only movement were his golden eyes. After a few anxious moments, he laid the paper down, “This is very good work, I can’t wait to see it when it’s done.” His praise was rare. A small smile broke out onto her face. 

“Thank you, captain,” she beamed up at him, grateful for his praise. Law nodded at her, walking away from her to fix himself a cup of coffee. He stood in front of the coffee pot, glancing over his shoulder at the girl sitting at the table, papers spread out in front of her. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” He broke the silence in the kitchen. She thought for a second. A coffee would probably wake her up enough to get to the stopping point she had planned to. She peered up at her captain, “I would like that, thank you.” 

Law continued brewing the coffee, pouring two cups as (Y/n) made her way towards him. He handed her the cup of coffee, their fingertips brushing. A familiar warm feeling bloomed within the both of them, the same one they had been trying to push away. They locked eyes as everything seemed to stand still. A silence fell around both of them. The mere few seconds felt like hours. As quickly as the feeling came, it went, and they pulled their gazes away. (Y/n) took her coffee and made it the way that she liked, Law opting for black. Predictable, she thought to herself. They stood there in the comfortable silence, before Law spoke up. “I am working on the trials we ran on the island, I could use some of your notes, would you come to my office with me?” He asked her. Her eyes locked his once again, that twinkle he had found all too beguiling present in her irises. “Yes! Let me just grab my things,” She beamed, “Here, hold this,” She placed the coffee cup in his hand before turning to grab her things. She gathered up all her papers in her arms, and all her pens, denying any help that Law had to offer as they made their way to his office. 

Law’s office was dimly lit, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner of the room. It was bright enough to illuminate the workspace, but not bright enough to spread to the corners of the room. It was cold in his room, probably to aid him in staying awake if she had to guess. His desk was stacked high with papers and books. Crumpled up pieces of paper scattered around his desk, not enough to make his office too messy, but enough to be noticed. In the right corner of the room was Law’s bookshelf, lined with books, mostly medical, but a few novels scattered throughout. (Y/n) wondered what kind of novels the Surgeon of Death liked to indulge in reading. She couldn’t fathom him reading anything of fiction. In the corner of the room was her captain's bed. The blankets were thrown to the foot of the bed, while two pillows propped up on each other at the top. (Y/n) pulled her gaze away from all the furniture and how it was set up in his quarters, and set her things down. She took the papers that contained all the information she had and spread them out in front of her. She looked up at her captain, “So, where are we starting?” She asked him. 

“Let’s start with the sample records you recorded the other day,” He said. They had collected a bunch of samples from the island they were visiting. These samples ranged from swabs of sidewalks and door handles, to buccal and nasal swabs from willing citizens. Law had been culturing the virus over the past few days, checking up on it every hour to see how it was developing. No wonder the man hadn’t gotten any sleep. Law constantly worked, it brought him a sort of peace. It was something he had complete control over. He rarely let anyone assist him if unneeded. Everyone on the crew knew that. 

Y/n took out the data that she had collected from the culturing virus in the lab, flipping through the pages to make sure she included everything. As she flipped, her finger glided across one of the edges of the paper. A sharp pain traveled through her finger causing her to yank her hand back from the stack of papers. Muttering a curse under her breath, she laid the pack of papers in front of Law before looking down at the finger that had started to ooze red. “I’m sorry, excuse me for a second,” she said as she stood up from her seat. Before she could make her way to the door, Law stopped her with a gentle, “Let me see.” Hesitantly, Y/n reached towards Law as he took her hand to examine the measly paper cut that hardly needed a bandaid. As Law reached to hold her hand, butterflies erupted within her stomach. A heat rose to her cheeks, and she looked away. Law didn’t miss her reaction, but he didn’t say a word cause he was dealing with his own stomach flipping. He kicked himself, telling him that there was no reason to give such notice to something as small and ordinary as a papercut. He blamed the doctor within him for his following actions. Opening a drawer in his desk, Law pulled out a small first-aid kit. It contained antiseptic, bandages, and antibiotic ointments. Y/n started to protest, “Captain, that’s really not nec-” she started, but being cut off by her own hiss as he poured antiseptic on the papercut, paying no mind to her protests. “You don’t want to lose your finger to an infection, do you?” He asked her, as he cleaned her wound. She hissed at the cold sting from the antiseptic. “I hardly think anyone has ever lost their finger to a papercut,” She mused, as he added some antibacterial ointment and wrapped her finger in a bandaid. Law gazed up at her, catching her eyes that reflected the light of the small desk lamp. In that moment he could’ve sworn he was putting a band-aid on the finger of an angel, not that he would ever admit to that. He quickly pushed the thought away before replying, “You’d be surprised at the results of an untreated cut. Even the smallest ones can fester into a nasty infection,” He told her, as she gazed back at him. She held his golden gaze, pink still resting in her cheeks. 

A small smile broke out onto her face, “Well, thank you doctor. Whatever would I do without you?” She teased him. It had been a while since she had shown her playful side to him. He secretly wished that she would do it more. Law’s usual smirk crept up, “You would have no fingers,” He played along, “It’d be bad to have my researcher have no fingers, how would you record all the data I need?” He paused, “Besides, don’t you need these to write your book?” He held up her fingers between his inked one before gently letting them go.

“So I’m a useful asset to you?” She asked him, her tone still playful, however the question held some truth in it. She had worried she wasn’t enough for this crew. She remembered the words Law had said to her when he asked her to join. Your knowledge outweighs your weakness. However, not a day went by where she didn’t think that she was a burden. Her strength did not match the crew’s, and no matter how hard she trained, her work always seemed to get in the way of her actually improving. She knew she was the weak link, and she knew her captain knew that too. Law looked up at her, furrowing his eyebrows. The joking was now over, “You’re not an asset, you’re a member of my crew,” he said seriously, “I wouldn’t let anyone I didn’t think was worthy onto this submarine. Each and every one of my crew members has their strengths and weaknesses. Just cause you’re not out on the battlefield doesn’t mean you’re not valuable. You’re a very hard worker. Having you around takes a lot of my workload off. You’re more than needed around here,” He assured her. A small smile came back onto her face. Seeing her smile at his words did something inside of him. Something he wasn’t sure if he should indulge in. Something that made him want to whisper sweet praise to her if that’s what it took to make her smile like that all the time. It took a few moments of them standing in front of each other for them to realize how long they had been looking at each other. Law cleared his throat before pulling away, pushing down all the rising feelings again. It was unprofessional. It wasn’t right to feel these things. Law had to pull himself together. 

༺☆༻

After about two hours of going through data, the caffeine had started to wear off and drowsiness started to creep in. Law was unyielding when it came to his work, never stopping for more than a few minutes before delving right back into the research. An unwelcome yawn ripped through Y/n’s system. Law noticed this, and he knew she had been working more lately trying to get all the data recorded on top of adding all the information she had gathered for her book. “Y/n, you can go to bed, it’s almost 3:30.” He had told her with a sincere tone. Y/n shook her head at him, “No, it’s okay, I can keep working,” she assured him before looking back down at her page. Truth was, she was exhausted and felt as if she could hardly keep her eyes open, but she didn’t want to seem like she couldn’t keep up. Just a few more minutes, she thought to herself. The sound of the clock on the wall was almost hypnotizing as it aided in lulling her into closing her eyes. I’ll just rest my eyes for a second, she told herself as she let her eyes close, propping her head up with her hand, still holding her pen in her dominant one. The chair she was sitting in was hardly comfortable, but right now it felt as if it had become one of the coziest places on earth. A few seconds turned into a few minutes. A few minutes turned into her letting the darkness of sleep welcome her.  Law looked up at her when he heard her breaths start to become slower, and deeper. He let himself study her for a minute. He watched as her chest rose and fell with her soft breaths, her hair falling across her face as one of her hands propped up her head. He stood up and made his way in front of her to wake her. He gently reached out to shake her, almost feeling bad for having to wake her. He didn’t want to disturb her peace, he knew she had been putting in a lot of extra work lately. He could tell she hadn’t been getting any good sleep since their arrival to the island. His tattooed hand gently gripped her shoulder, giving her a light shake. He whispered her name a few times, but to no avail, she was out cold. Law gently shook his head as he contemplated his next moves. He didn’t want to leave her asleep in the chair, she would surely be sore in the morning, however the thought of carrying her to her bedroom was quickly written off. The crew would never relent if one of them saw, even if it was late at night, you never knew who could be awake wandering the halls. Law glanced over at his bed, and then back at the sleeping woman. He gently reached down and removed the pen and notebook from her hands, setting it on the desk in front of her. He was careful, but was sure of the fact that she wasn’t waking up when she didn’t so much as stir at the sudden absence of the items she was holding. Law hesitantly scooped her out of the chair before laying her down in his bed, covering her up with his blanket, letting her head rest on his pillow. He stood there and stared for a minute, selfishly reveling in how she looked in his bed. He knew it was strange behavior for him. He’d never let anyone fall asleep in his office, let alone move their sleeping body to his own personal bed. He mulled over his decision for a split second, and then did what he did best. Ignored the gnawing feeling, and buried himself in his work for the hundredth time that week. He ignored the small breaths and snores that left her body. He ignored the warm feeling that rose whenever he looked over at her. He had to remind himself, she was a part of his crew. He was her superior. He brushed off the unprofessional thoughts. She was his subordinate and that’s all it was.

@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost without my consent

taglist: @pinksaiyans , @buttmishaaaa

lmk if you would like to be added to the taglist!

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fan fiction #one piece fan fic #one piece x reader #trafalgar #trafalgardwaterlaw #heart pirates #law trafalgar #traflagar law

[bug-bites]

batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??

cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,

pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)

characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)

a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c

Dick Grayson haha dick

oh he loves the beach so much

the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one

the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways

somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously

will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water

you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian

obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!

cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying

Cassandra Cain

shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests

loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again

hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth

but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball

shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before

dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass

yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”

ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well

Jason Todd

beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much

PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time

he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch

usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff

but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)

he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away

Tim Drake

Burns so easily

At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles

But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+ 

I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy

Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines

Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach

Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(

Damian Wayne

i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities

one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools 

bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"

i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now

tells you fun facts about each creature you come across

will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?”  based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem

brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures

even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team

loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit

also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD

#dc comics #dc universe #dc x reader #x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #cassandra cain x reader #cassandra cain x you #black bat x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #robin x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #cassandra cain #black bat #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #dc robin #dc headcanon

[coffeebeanwriting]

Writing your First Chapter (Part 1)

There are tons of things that go into making a killer first chapter. Here are just a couple of things to consider.

Introducing your Protagonist and Making us Care

When writing your first chapter, you’ll be introducing your protagonist. When introducing your hero, here are some things to keep in mind:

1) We have to care about them (to want to follow them on their journey). This is typically done by giving your protagonist weaknesses and flaws or even quirks we can relate to. Your protagonist could be a grumpy, cold-hearted thief... but if they give half their findings to homeless children, our heartstrings are suddenly pulled on.

2) Don’t info-dump their backstory or appearance right away. Only give the reader what they need to know to understand the scene at hand. You especially don’t want to have your hero standing in front of a mirror describing themselves to the readers when you only have so many pages to hook a reader. You’ll have plenty of time to go into the details on your character later. This leads me to my next point...

3) Leave your readers wanting more. This is how you create page-turning chapters. If your protagonist has a mysterious limp... don’t reveal why right away. If their flaw is that they hate magic and refuse to use their birth gift... leave the reader guessing why. Little mysteries like that will keep readers subconsciously turning the page to figure out why. Just make sure you eventually give them the answer.

Foreshadow your Theme(s)

As early as you can, you’ll want to show readers what to expect in your book. Authors can do this by foreshadowing. Think of it as a “mini-scene” or description that gives the reader a taste of what’s to come. 

This can be a as small as a sentence or as long as a paragraph or scene. 

“I hadn’t been this dumb in years, hadn’t strayed this far from the Wall since... well since it fell. But I couldn’t help myself. I saw a squirrel runnin’... and catching one of those little critters would land me a handful of coin.”

Right away, the reader knows to expect themes of poverty and survival.

Ground your Readers, but don’t over do it.

Your first chapter is critical in catching your reader’s attention-- so you don’t want to use up all your words on describing the setting. This is unwise, because, during this time, you need to be making us care about your hero and their actions.

Instead, show the reader only what they need to know to understand the scene. Too much description will slow down the story. 

However, if your story has an unusual or unique setting, this can be used as a hook. Although, as a general rule of thumb, you’ll want to write only what is necessary and dive into those beautiful descriptions later.

PART 2-- COMING SOON :) Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

#writing tips and tricks #writing tips #writing advice #creative writing #writeblr #writing blog #how to write #writing help #writing fiction #writing prompts #fantasy writing #authortips #authoradvice #writingtips #writingmemes #writers blog #writingblog #authorsblog #howtowrite #writingtipsandtricks #writerscommunity #writers community #writinghelp #writingprompts #writertips #howtowriteascene #writingfiction #fictionwriting #fantasywriting #writing memes

[oh-saints]

I found your page a couple of days ago and i love all your stories. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the amount of Rúben dias requests you're about to receive from me 😂I would like to request something with ruben like oc is heavily pregnant and craving something weird (whatever weird this that comes into your mind lol) and he is laughing and teasing her about it lol, and oc us having non of it. Make it fluffy please 🥺

Thank you so much in advance

cravings

craving during pregnancy is something we all are aware of, rúben even looks forward to it from the moment you broke down the news you were expecting. but what if you ask for something he doesn’t even know it exists?

rúben dias x you part of dad!rúben collection

wc: 2k

note: something that’s been sitting way too long in the vault because of the research I had to do about this but only now finished bcs I had spurts of inspiration suddenly so surprise, surprise it’s a double update! LOLOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet!

“gatinha,”

at your whisper, rúben stirred from his sleep. his eyes immediately spotted the clock on the bedside table. the numbers drawn 3:00 in the big, fat analogue font across the screen.

“uh, what is it?” being the alert husband he was, he turned around to face you in no time. “is there something you need?

you were already seated on the edge of the bed, meaning you had just finished from your early morning toilet trip. ever since you became pregnant, the little trip was a new routine for you—and maybe the majority of other pregnant women in general, and everyone around him who had become fathers before him had warned the footballer to watch where the mother was going.

that, and the last thing he needed was for you to slip somewhere when he wasn’t watching, when he couldn’t be any help for you. rúben and you had been waiting for your very own rainbow baby for years, so when you were granted one, it was within his most important priority list to make sure both you and the child—whose gender was still unknown yet; not even born yet and they already resembled your shy nature—happy and safe.

“are you okay?”

you didn’t hide your fascination towards the man in front of you, hair disheveled and eyes blurry with drowsiness. 5 years of marriage and you still found him endearing, even more so when he was now turning protective and alert all the time, borderline the leader of a pack with the appearance similar to a mother hen.

“i am, don’t you worry,” you said, your hands stroking the side of his face, feeling the little hairs growing to become stubbles in near future. “but i’m starving.”

ah… the infamous early morning craving.

you had never personally asked of anything alike before, contrary to what everybody else had been advising rúben that there would be a time where you would be craving something eventually in a very ridiculous time of a morning. four months in, and you were yet to show any signs of it so rúben naturally thought you were going to be an exception case. but look where they were now.

with a smile so apologetic for having to wake him up like that, rúben melted into the warmth your smile exuded. “of course, meu anjo. should i get my keys?”

rúben might be many things but you didn’t believe one chance that he was a psychic. “do you even know what i want to eat?”

“uh, mcdonalds?”

in any other time, you would’ve laughed at his meek attempt to guess your mind. given t was early in the morning, mcdonalds was supposedly a reasonable choice since it was open 24/7.

but you did not, in under any circumstances, want to touch your feet nearby that chain of foul fast food. besides, you were pregnant. didn’t your husband consider that the unhealthy intake of food would do no good for their baby?

rúben must’ve noticed the change in your demeanour. “did i say something wrong, my love?”

“yes, don’t assume anything you don’t know of.”

ah… this one rúben was familiar, the rapid change of your mood he had his money run for the fastest rollercoaster on earth, so he apologised instantly and asked you again what you wanted.

“remember the time when we travelled to asia?”

“you mean, our honeymoon?”

oh, you were so not having your husband being mr. i-know-it-all. “one more of that and i’m walking out.”

the threat was enough to make rúben circle around the bed before kneeling down in front of your frowning figure. not because he was a loser, but because he knew you might actually do it. you had a capability to do it, you always do, which was why he was drawn to you in the first place.

but he didn’t want a runaway wife, pregnant on top of that, so he quickly apologized again. “what about it, baby?”

“i want durian.” ＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

what on earth is durian?

rúben sighed as he stared at his phone, the screen frozen helplessly for how many tabs he’d opened up in the browser. he rubbed his face rather roughly, due to the frustration, as he sat on the cover of the toilet and pondered his life choices and its respective life expectancies.

no one—literally no one—had warned him about the effect of any slip of tongue around a pregnant woman.

you were the calmest person he’d ever met, never wanting to bite off someone else’s head because it drained your precious energy. which rúben agreed to, and had been a devoted student of yours in terms of anger management on and off the field. but it was getting very hard to keep his own composure intact when you even lost yours.

ironically, rúben realised that one of you should still stay sane for the sake of everyone in this household, now inclusive of the unborn baby and it didn’t look like it was going to be you anytime soon.

so realistically, he couldn’t say to you that he didn’t remember a thing—not even an ounce of it—that you both had seen the fruit in question during your honeymoon. according to you, though, you both were even mesmerized by the look but decided that the possibility of dying because of the foul smell was larger than the delicious taste. as a result, when was the best time to try the exotic fruit than now, at 3.30 AM, when you were nearing the fifth month of pregnancy?

thus, his final resort to the internet, hoping for a miracle in the amount close to how much he needed to create the apple of his eyes with you.

but of course, the search engine didn’t show anything that could help him save his own lifeline this early morning from a pregnant wife that was so ready to stab the knife to his chest. the best option rúben got was to visit chinatown and head to the fruit market.

with a particular note from a lovely reviewer that the fruit was subject to a particular season—durian season, as the asians called it. if you were to seek for the spiky fruit beyond the particular calendar, then you either (i) got one that tasted as foul as it smells, or (ii) came home empty handed.

but of course, you wouldn’t get it, would you? rúben had already had it in his head you were going to wail at how incredulous his justifications are—what the hell is a durian season? we have spring, summer, autumn and winter and not durian! he could imagine—and would accuse him of trying to get his way out of the hard labour of satisfying you craving. worse, you’d scream out rúben should be responsible for this because he was the one who knocked you up and not vice versa.

other times, the footballer would just laugh it off. even at first, he did so and thought you were the cutest thing in his life, an actual living plushie. now, he just didn’t know what to do…

“what takes you so long?”

rúben jumped slightly at the question thrown at him from behind the door, the only thing separating him and his thoughts with the rest of the world and their expectation towards him. “nothing, meu anjo. i’ll be out in a minute.”

“good, because we gotta go. i’m sleepy already but the baby needs to eat.”

the husband closed his eyes once more, regulated his breathing, visualizing the flow of his breath before letting them out slowly—just the way you taught him how—before coming out of the loo. “baby, can i ask you one thing?”

you looked up, and rúben felt bad because you were already dressed and ready to go out and fight the coldness of an early morning. “what is it?”

“what if we go and have the durian in the morning?”

“rúben, it’s already morning now,” you clicked your tongue impatiently. “what are you saying?”

“i have a place to go already but they’re only open later at 8.”

and pregnant silence fell upon them, no puns intended.

“why at 8?”

“because that’s when the market opens,” rúben sat again in front of you, his hands were rubbing the back of your hand and on top of your knees respectfully. “i’m afraid we’ll have to go to chinatown to get them and it’s only open then.”

rúben was so ready with your fit, so he was rather surprised to hear you answer, “okay.”

okay?

okay?!

okay!

good god, the mood swing had returned it honestly felt like rúben had just jumped off the cliff with bungee jumping.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben was the one not okay that morning.

you turned out to opt out sleeping that night, despite being cuddled by your husband—which was your favourite way to go to sleep, even faring better than being lullabied—but rúben forgot you were living your life for two people for these nine months, so you still had a bar of energy and excitement while he had to drag his feet to the en suite bathroom.

you were literally counting in seconds as to when you’d get to the chinatown. your legs were involuntarily shaking from excitement, while he’d become more sensitive due to the lack of sleep (per his standard). as soon as the car stopped at the parking lot, you ran to the nearest entrance and lost yourself in quest to find the fruit. it wasn’t even 8 AM yet.

rúben had to call and asked you to share your live location, in case you were lost. but you were already moving in a pace so different than those mothers he’d gotten to know lately due to the parenting class, there was no way he could catch up.

“where are you?” as soon as his phone rang, he picked up, panting from the endless count of steps inside a huge market. “i cannot find you.”

coincidentally, you happened to call rúben in order to tell him that you were going to line in a queue to a small shop selling imported exotic fruits. the small hadn’t been open, yet there was already a waiting list, and in your dictionary of words it should only mean that the said shop was relevant to be called the local’s favourite.

“there you are,” rúben was about to comment

like a lucky charm, they were called in to make their purchase not long after.

you had your eyes already set on durian, so when the uncle asked if you wanted to eat at that place or bring home a peeled one, you didn’t hesitate to have them immediately. besides, you didn’t know how to split durian into two and whatnot.

“oh my god, so damn good!” you didn’t waste a minute to dance your little moves that you made to indicate you’re happy at that moment. “i can eat this every day for the rest of my life!”

good god, please help me.

“you should try, baby!” you were so excited to share your happiness with your husband, one hand holding a tiny bit of yellow and ready to be shoved into rúben’s mouth. who could deny such endearing request? “you’ve never had one before!”

and that was also the last time rúben had a bite of that yellow, mushy inside of durian. apart from the smell, he decided he didn’t like the texture and the bitter aftertaste.

but that was him. you, on the other hand, were munching the fruit as if it was going to be your last time seeing that scarce fruit. it appalled rúben too even at the length and amount you could eat in one seating. and looking at that, seeing you were this elated, it also made him full—in every sense of the word, literally and figuratively.

when you were done with the last chunk, you grinned at him, rather sheepishly. maybe you were drunk from the fruit, maybe you were shy because you just let out one hell of an appetite. “thank you for coming here with me.”

“anytime, my love, but we’re not doing this again. okay, meu anjo?” rúben wiped your fingers one by one from the sticky texture, internally wincing at the stinky smell. “promise me that.”

“sim, meu amor.”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabbles #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fics #football fanfic #football fics #footballer x you #footie fics

[imfinereallyy]

Tattooed Steve, pt. 2

Part 1 here

Soooo I ended up writing more tattooed Steve. I couldn’t resist. I also realized that Eddie would be the first person to find out but like…other than Robin. But I didn’t count her because Steve and Robin are the same person honestly at this point. Anyway I hope you like it! Pt. 1 is linked above.

—-

It’s two weeks after Vecna when he gets his first one. It’s unexpected, impulsive even, but Steve needs to feel something. He has just spent the past week and half waiting for Eddie to wake up, staring at his pale form, wishing away the anxiety with every beep, beep, beep that comes from the heart monitor. Begging for this stupid, stupid man to wake up.

He isn’t really sure why he wanted Eddie to wake up. Sure the ruggrats love him, and there is the general sense of not wanting any innocent person to die on his watch, but Steve knows deep down it’s about something else. Or more like the potential of something else. He tries not to think about it too hard.

So during that first week and half of watching a comatose Eddie, Steve takes his time studying the man. Learning every curve, and every scar. And eventually, every visible tattoo he can see. They are interesting, not all of them good, but all very Eddie. It somehow makes them better. Some of them are messed up from the bat bites (ironically the bat tattoos remain untouched), but they add to his aesthetic if Steve is being honest with himself.

When Eddie wakes up after that week and a half, groggy and confused (especially towards the fact that Harrington is practically holding vigil at his bedside), the first thing Steve says to him is “Oh thank god you’re awake.” The second is “What the hell were you thinking?” Before Eddie proceeds to pass out again.

Later, when all of the doctors and family and friends have had their time with him, the third thing Steve says to Eddie is, “Tell me about your tattoos.”

And despite the fact half of them are mangled, Steve doesn’t think he has ever seen anyone light up that bright in his life. And when Eddie starts waving his hands in excitement, Steve can’t help but think that he’s never been so close to the sun before.

So, two weeks after Vecna, Steve makes a decision. Or again, if he’s being honest, an impulse. He finds old books in the library about tattoos (which aren’t very helpful), and finds zines hidden between the pages (much more helpful) on stick and pokes.

Steve shows up with supplies from Melvad’s (for a probably very dangerous tattoo kit) at Robin’s doorstep. “Robs, I need you to give me a tattoo.” Then she proceeds to spit all of her morning tea on him.

After a lot of shouting “Did you hit your head again dingus? Oh my god did you get into another fight? Are you having a break down? SPEAK STEVE.”

And a lot of convincing, “Robin I’m fine. No I’m not having a breakdown. Robs, Robbie, Birdie, I swear nothing happen. I just want to do it.”

The end up on Robin’s bathroom floor (because of course all important things happen on the bathroom floor), with a look of deep concentration on her face. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, with only twenty minutes from a zine you smuggled out of Hawkins Library. I can’t believe they even have zines.”

“I don’t think they were aware of it honestly.” Steve snorts. His shirt was off, a patch hair already shaved off right where is heart is placed.

“Do you know what you want?” Robin asks, head tilted.

“No, not really. I was hoping you would help.”

Robin hums, like she’s resisting the urge to point out how impulsive he’s being. Like she knows he needs to do this. “Tell me what made you decide to want one.”

So Steve does. He tell her about waiting for Eddie to wake up. Wondering why Eddie got them. Wanting to own himself again, to actually like something new on his body. Put something there he had control of. His curiosity of if it were painful. His interest behind the stories of Eddies tattoos. How Eddie lit up so bright when asked. Wanting to feel like that. Wanting to be close to the sun again.

Robin mercifully didn’t look too deeply (or at least didn’t push on it) about the interest in Eddie himself. “Okay, I think I got it. Just…hold still.”

Twenty minutes later, after three passes with pen ink and a needle, Robin disinfects his tattoo. Before she covers up, she asks “Do you want to see it?”

Steve nods his head eagerly. The tattoo had painful, more painful than he expected, but he found it sort of grounding. Something to keep him aware of himself, almost as if he was able to grasp parts of himself he wasn’t conscious of before.

When Steve stands up to look in the mirror, there he sees off center on his chest, a wonky little sun. It was something a preschooler could have drawn, but it was one of the most beautiful things Steve had ever seen, and it was made by one of the most important people in his life.

Robin says shyly at Steve’s speechless state, “You said you wanted to be close to the sun again.”

Steve scoops Robin up in an instant, ignoring the stinging both on the outside and inside of his chest. “Thank you Birdie.” Which translates, you are the only person I ever need etched in me forever.

“Always, Stevie.” Which means, you’re never getting rid of me anyway.

They pull away with tearful smiles, and silent promises. Steve can start to feel maybe not much like his old self, but somewhere on the way to who he truly is.

Then Robin says, “Okay, me next.”

————

okay I wasn’t sure if really anyone wanted more, or if I was going to do it but I actually really enjoyed where this ended up. Also I apologize for any tense changes. I quite literally type this on my phone and say screw it, without looking it over. Let me know if you want more maybe? Send me prompts even. Thanks for reading :)

#steddie #Steve and Robin would feed into each other’s impulses #Steve just needs someone to tell him he’s loved and also still pretty #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #steddie fic #ficlet #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin headcanons #stranger things #someone draw this #steve x eddie #tattoos #tattooed steve #the party #steddie writing #writing prompt #soft boys

[just-aake]

Boundless Devotion - Part II

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: slight angst, violence, abuse

Words: 2582

The carriage leaves the castle gates, carrying the two noblewomen inside.

“I don’t understand why I can’t be outside with the other knights,” Kate pouts as she looks out the window at the guards riding their horses beside the carriage.

Her dog mirrors her position, resting its head sadly against the opening of the window.

Flipping to the next page of the book Queen Melina gave you earlier today after your meeting with her, you respond without looking up at her.

“Because, Kate, even though you chose to become a knight, at the moment, you are still the daughter of a noble family."

You finally glance up at her with a pointed look as you continue your explanation.

"That means you still need to have some form of protection until then.”

Kate groans in disappointment as she slumps back on the seat across from you, crossing her arms as she sulks. 

After numerous pleas and persistent requests to her mother about her desire to join the Royal Guard, she finally gained permission to begin her training, though under a lot of conditions and restrictions. 

Quickly bored with her sulking, Kate glances at the book in your lap curiously before asking.

“Chronicles of the Red Room? Why are you reading about that?”

With a nonchalant shrug, you reply casually, “I just wanted to learn more about my family’s involvement in the war.”

The book in question recounts personal stories from the previous war between the Romanov Kingdom and the Stark Kingdom.

More precisely, it focuses on a place known as the Red Room, which was apparently under the control of your family's house during the war.

According to your findings so far, this place was mainly used for interrogating captured enemies, and it appears that during the war, the Dreykov House gained considerable recognition for its effectiveness in infiltrating enemy ranks and securing strategic advantages for the kingdom through the Red Room.

The queen graciously provided you with some books on the subject when you inquired about it.

Kate hums in casual interest before commenting curiously.

“Wasn’t your old governess also a general during the war? What was her name again…?”

Kate snaps her fingers when she remembers. 

“Madam B!” 

Your hand pauses mid-flip at the name, but Kate doesn’t notice your sudden discomfort as she continues.

"She's always been by your side since you were young, but I haven't seen her around for a while now. Where did she disappear to anyway?"

You compose yourself quickly when Kate looks at you, giving her a faint smile before replying, “I believe she moved to the countryside.”

Kate nods in acknowledgment, accepting your words.

As you're about to return your focus to the book, Kate's next words cause you to tense once again.

“It's odd that she decided to leave you now. You'd think she'd want to stay close, considering what happened."

Kate looks at you cautiously, knowing how sensitive the subject of the incident is for you. 

You sigh internally at her words.

Despite her cheerful and carefree demeanor, you sometimes forget how observant Kate can be about certain matters.

“Madam B has been a part of my family's employment for many years. It was just simply time for her to get what she deserved,” you explain vaguely.

Noticing Kate nervously biting her lips—a telltale sign of her uncertainty—you anticipate there's something else she wants to say.

Eventually, she gives in with a sad expression.

“That wasn’t the only thing that changed.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you're already aware of what she's referring to.

“I already told you, Kate,” you reassure her gently. “Just because we don’t spend all of our time together anymore doesn’t mean Natasha and I are not still friends.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you return your attention to your book, commenting, "We just…each have our own responsibilities now.”

Kate sighs sadly, slumping back into her seat, “I know, but it just doesn't feel the same. We miss having you with us like before, especially Natasha.”

Choosing not to reply, you pretend to concentrate on your book, ignoring the tightness in your chest at her words.

The truth is — you miss Natasha too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The carriage stops at the entrance of your family’s manor.

Your gatekeeper, Pietro Maximoff, waves at you as you enter. When he opens the carriage door for you, you see your lady-in-waiting, Wanda Maximoff, rushing down the front steps. 

“Welcome back, Lady Y/n.” 

The twins stand side by side when they greet you.

You give them a warm smile and nod at them graciously.

As orphans from the remnants of the war, Wanda and Pietro were brought into your family’s house by some of the staff members.

Due to their young age when they joined your household, the three of you practically grew up together.

As a result, you genuinely see them more like siblings than anything else, and they reciprocate the same sentiment.

However, in the presence of those outside the manor, they still try to maintain a respectful attitude toward you.

“Thank you,” you say before gesturing to the back of the carriage. “Pietro, can you help bring in the box?”

He nods at your request, moving to reach for the item.

When you’re about to go up the stairs, Wanda places a gentle hand on your arm, stopping your movement.

Her face holds a tense smile as she speaks.

“Your father has come home early from his meeting,” she states in a casual tone. Though, her eyes dart behind you with a meaningful glance.

The news causes you to freeze, your eyes slightly widening. Swiftly, you turn around and intercept Kate's path, stopping her in her tracks.

She tilts her head at you curiously in confusion. 

You offer her a reassuring smile, dispelling all the tense emotions that had crossed your face just moments ago.

“I think I’m just going to rest early today, Kate. It's probably best if you head home," you suggest.

Kate begins to examine you carefully, her expression turning worried.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”

You shake your head, turning her around and lightly directing her back to the carriage before responding.

“I’m fine, just a little tired from reading during the ride.”

Kate casts a skeptical glance your way as she ushers Lucky back into the carriage.

“Okay…,” she says, her voice trailing off. She bites her lip again with uncertainty, remembering something. Then with a deep breath, she speaks again.

“Yelena and I plan to have a picnic at the usual spot by the lake tomorrow,” Kate hesitates briefly before continuing. “Natasha will be there too. I could come in the morning, and we can go together if you’d like?” she proposes with a hopeful tone.

You give her an apologetic look and shake your head, denying her offer.

“I can't, Kate. I have a meeting with Lady Maria tomorrow.” 

Kate acknowledges your response with a disappointed nod, retreating back into the carriage with a sad goodbye.

You wave as the carriage disappears through the gates. Once you're certain she's out of sight, you hurry up the front stairs and make your way into your family’s manor. 

Wanda and Pietro fall in step beside you. Together, the three of you move swiftly along the hallways, taking a less direct route to your room within the manor.

“Where is he now?” you ask, turning slightly to Wanda.

“He was in his study before you arrived,” she replies.

You glance at the box in Pietro’s hand, which contains other books that the queen gave you today. These books concern subjects that you don't want your father to know you are researching.

“Can you keep that in your quarters for now?” 

“Of course,” Pietro replies, nodding without hesitation.

You turn the corner toward the staircase that leads to your floor. 

“What do you think you are doing?”

The booming voice from above causes you to freeze, and you look up to see your father, Lord Dreykov, standing at the top of the staircase. His gaze is fixed on the three of you, examining you critically before shifting his eyes to the person behind you.

He points at Pietro, ordering, “You, take that box to my study.”

Pietro doesn’t move at the command. Instead, he turns his attention to look at you for direction. 

Dreykov watches the interaction with narrow eyes, and a flicker of irritation crosses his face. He descends the steps slowly, clasping his hands behind his back. 

You hold your breath nervously when he stops in front of you, your eyes watching him cautiously.

The sound of a sharp, echoing slap rings out in the room, and your head snaps to the side from the impact of the hit.

As you instinctively bring your hand to your cheek in shock, you cry out in pain when he harshly grabs your wrist and pushes you forcefully to your knees. 

You hear some movement from behind you. Glancing back, Wanda and Pietro both have shocked and concerned looks as they step towards you.

“Don’t move,” Dreykov commands threateningly.

Your father twists your wrist in a painful direction, causing you to cry out in pain again.

In response, Wanda and Pietro come to an abrupt stop, freezing in their tracks.

Dreykov chuckles darkly at them.

“So, the two of you can follow orders after all.” 

He observes your two obviously loyal attendants, seeing a mix of restrained anger and concern etched across their faces. Annoyance tinges his expression as he clicks his tongue in irritation.

“It seems that in my absence from the manor, some of the staff have forgotten who’s the one in control here.”

He turns to Pietro threateningly, his hand still holding your wrist in a deathly grip.

“Am I going to have to repeat myself?”

Pietro clenches his teeth in anger, his gaze shifting between you and your father’s vice-like grip on your wrist. With a reluctant bow, he hurries away toward the study with the box in tow. 

When Pietro disappears around the corner, your father finally lets go of your wrist.

You swiftly pull your hand back, cradling it protectively against your chest. 

Immediately, you sense Wanda’s presence behind you. Her hands grasp your arms, pulling you up and drawing you closer to her, creating a safe distance from your father. 

Dreykov sneers at you, turning to leave.

“Don’t ever disrespect me like that again, daughter,” he warns, his tone threatening.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“The nerve of that man!” Wanda fumes as she holds your injured wrist in her lap.

You could see the purplish discoloration on your skin, indicating that a bruise was already forming.

“He’s absent for most of your life. Now, suddenly, he decides to stay and terrorize you and everyone else in the manor!”

Though her words are angry, Wanda is gentle as she applies the medical salves on your wrist. 

She's also not wrong about your father. Throughout your childhood, he was rarely at home, always away on trips and meetings to other kingdoms.

Honestly, any memories of moments when he was actually at the manor are hazy to you. 

For some reason, he has chosen to stay in the kingdom for a full year now. His return happened shortly after the incident that unfolded on Natasha's birthday.

However, it's hard to believe that his presence is solely driven by concern for you.

Wanda continues, “Not to mention those creepy guards of his that hide in the shadows.”

You wince when she begins to wrap the bandages around a tender area.

“Which is why you should lower your voice, Wanda,” you warn her.

A familiar knocking pattern sounds at the door before Wanda can respond. 

Knowing who it is, she calls out, “Come in!”

Pietro slips inside quickly, his gaze immediately focused on your wrist in concern.

“How is she?”

You respond before Wanda can continue her rant.

“I’m fine. Both of you calm down.”

Wanda huffs at you, crossing her arms, before noticing Pietro’s slightly disheveled hair and asking, “What took you so long anyway?” 

Pietro's expression shifts into his usual mischievous grin as he pulls out the bundle of books from behind his back.

You recognize them as the ones the queen had given to you from the box.

“I ran to the library and switched these out with some of your geography books,” he explains proudly. 

“Pietro!” you chastise before reprimanding him with a sigh. “Thank you, but please don’t do something that risky again. Who knows what my father would do if he caught you.”

Noticing Wanda and Pietro communicating silently to each other with their eyes, you ask them knowingly.

“What is it?”

Wanda's gaze turns sad and uncertain as she speaks, “We can’t really help you much given our position, but maybe if you tell Princess Natasha…” 

Wanda gives you a knowing look before confidently stating, "She wouldn’t let this happen to you."

Sighing tiredly at the repeated reminder of the princess’ absence from your life, you adjust your sleeve to conceal the bandages as you explain.

“Her coronation is in a couple of months. I’m not going to burden Natasha with problems of a single noble family when she’s going to have to worry about an entire kingdom soon.”

The twins give you sympathetic looks, already aware of the real reasons for your reluctance to involve the princess.

With a sigh, you remind yourself of the decision that you made after that incident last year.

It was the best option.

The further you stay away from Natasha, the safer she will be.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, accompanied by Wanda, you go to meet Lady Maria Hill at her manor.

The purpose of the meeting was to see the compatibility between the two of you.

In other words, it was sort of like a first date.

The Hill family is renowned for their significant contributions to the kingdom's military. A majority of their family members hold distinctions as decorated soldiers or knights in the kingdom.

In fact, her cousin is the Captain of the Royal Guard at the castle. 

Even now, Maria wears her commander uniform while she sits across from you. Her posture remains perfect and attentive as she places her cup down on the table before addressing you.

“To be honest, Lady Y/n, I was surprised that you still wanted to meet with me today, given the recent news.”

Confused, you glance at Wanda in question, wondering if she knew what Maria was referring to. She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders in response.

With a polite smile, you return your attention to Maria.

“I’m afraid we haven’t heard any news,” you tell her. 

“Well, it’s more like a rumor, just something Steve heard amongst the castle workers,” Maria comments casually before leaning forward slightly as if whispering a secret.

“Apparently, Princess Natasha disclosed last night that she’s in a secret relationship.”

You ignore the new uncomfortable feeling in your chest at the fact that there was something concerning Natasha that you weren’t aware of.

You manage to conceal the surprise and discomfort on your face as your hands cradle the cup in front of you, its warmth offering you little comfort.

“Oh? And did she mention who it is?” you ask, curious to learn more.

“That’s what makes this meeting so strange,” Maria pauses before nodding at you.

“She said that she was in a relationship with you, Lady Y/n.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you for reading! Hopefully the tags work, just let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series.

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

January Week 1

Welcome welcome to the 2024 Grimoire Challenge! Time to really get started everyone! This week will have a lot of stuff all jammed in. So buckle up, grab your grimoire and your supplies, and let’s get to work!

Monday

Name your book - this may seem silly and you definitely don’t need to name your book. Not properly at least. Other than “my grimoire” or “book of shadows” or what have you, which is totally fine. But some of us might feel the need to give it a proper title. “The Basil Grimoire” or “Hazel’s Handwritten Workings” something, anything, that ties the book to you and your craft. Make a title page! If you feel so inclined. If not, that’s fine too.

Definitions (New Page) - ritual and spell. Let’s define a few things. Make a page specifically for definitions, that we’ll add to through the challenge. Let’s start with a couple simple definitions. Define spell. And define ritual. Within the confines of magic, witchcraft and your practice. What is a spell? What is a ritual? What are the differences?

Study (herb) - Pick another herb from that list we made, and dig into the details. Make a page for it on its own, or add its info to another page! Whatever works for your craft. The questions to ask for these study prompts are going to continue to remain the same. Where did it come from, where does it grow, how does it grow, what are its mundane and practical uses. What are the myths and legends and stories surrounding the herb? What are its magical properties and why/ how do you think the other information you've learned about it have influenced its magical associations?

Tuesday

Outline/ index (New Page!) - it helped me a great deal to have an index or outline to my grimoire. I started this as a file on my computer as my grimoire grew and changed I could more easily manage it and rearrange it as I saw fit. Then eventually I could make it into a handwritten copy.

Study (gem) - Like our herb prompt, the gem prompts are going to always use the same outline and questions. Where does the gem come from? What is it used for in a practical and mundane sense? What are its physical properties? What are any myths, legends or stories? Where and how does it form? How does all of that relate to its magical correspondences and what does the herb mean to and for you in your craft?

Spellwriting 101 (New Page!) - make a new page dedicated to spellwriting. This is going to be one of those prompts that is focused on you and your craft. How do you write spells? How do you set them up? What components do you use? What is the format? How is it done? What does it require? From materials to timing and circumstances? Write it all out in your lab notebook. Make it a work in progress. Not all spells are going to work out the same or function the same as you perform them, but having a general layout and method helps to focus your practice.

Wednesday

Common tools - What are the common tools in your craft? That is, you don't need to have a list of every single tool ever used in witchcraft, just the tools that you use in yours. Both regularly and less regularly. What are they used for specifically? What purposes do they serve in the magical and practical sense? Are they ceremonial and symbolic or do they serve an actual physical purpose? (i.e. a wand used to direct energy serves many purposes, while an incense burner could literally just be that, an incense burner)

Year outline/ calendar - not everyone celebrates the same days, holidays or even the same holidays the same way. What are the special occasions and days in your calendar? Mark them and when the proper season/ holiday comes around, we can make pages dedicated to those days. This week this will simply be a list of these days, while later we will actually make pages for them individually. Think of it like the Wheel of the Year, Yule to Midsummer and so on. What days are important to you and your practice? Are they actual holidays? Or simply days of power like the full moon? Or is it simply days that are significant for other reasons, like the anniversary of the day you began practicing witchcraft?

Practical - tool usage - practice using your tools. For example if you use a wand. Practice using it to direct energies or whatever it is you utilize it for.

Thursday

Altar design/ work space (New Page!) - make a page dedicated to your altar and its setup. Why are things where they are? The reasoning can be simple as “that’s where it fits” or you can give it a more meaningful reason. Candles in front of or behind something to represent some purpose. Do you have items that represent the elements? Deities? Different sources of power or directionality? Different colors for different meanings? Why is your altar the way it is?

Practical - cleansing space - practice cleansing your space and tools. This is of course a physical and 'energetic' cleansing. Tidy it up, redecorate your space, clean the tools if they have dust or ash or anything on them. Sometimes it is good to have a clean start.

Friday

Personal practices - this is just a thought provoking prompt tied in with the Journal prompt below. What are some of your personal practices that you've brought into your witchcraft? Anything from little habits from your every day life to things brought from religion or family traditions. No matter how hard we try, we carry within us echoes of things not related to our practices into it. And that is totally okay. Recognizing them, acknowledging them, and truly incorporating them can be a huge step toward understanding ourselves, our beliefs and our practices all around.

Journal/ introspective/ meditations - Think about the above and write any of it down that you come to terms with. Self understanding is important in and outside of witchcraft.

Thank you all and I hope this week's prompts aren't too overwhelming! Stay tuned next week for the next set of prompts!

-Mod Hazel

#2024 grimoire challenge #grimoire #grimoire challenge #paganism #witchcraft #witchblr #witchy #2024 gc #book of shadows #dark academia #occult #occultism #magick #magic #witch challenge #witchy challenge #book of magic #grimoire info #grimoire inspiration

[brenbofen]

Dan Heng Relationship Headcanons ♥︎

Dan Heng x GN Reader

Broadcaster Message - Just wanted to ramble about my boy, teehee.

Notes 🗒️ - NSFW HC Under cut !, My personal Headcanons, Leaks/Spoilers Mentioned, Dom Reader under cut, Not sure how to label this.

✦ Sweetest guy in a relationship, I just know it.

✦ I doubt he’s very experienced when it comes to being in a relationship, gets real flustered when you just hold his hands or kiss him.

✦ Gets a bit frustrated if you come into the archives, understands you want to see him, but he would rather you ask him to go to your room.

✦ His little need to document everything has him studying you, big puppy eyes as he asks if he could just shadow you for the day. Has all kinds of notes on the members of the express, for you, he has dozens of pages and documents.

✦ Bit possessive, comes with being a Vidyadhara. Dan Heng gets jealous easily, he’s good at hiding it but you can tell, the way his brows furrow and he grips your hand harder. Also very protective of you, which comes with him being the self-proclaimed body guard of the express.

✦ Please hold his tail or let him wrap it around you, likes being so close to you, able to pull you to him if needed.

✦ Likes being around you in general, especially cuddling. Loves tangling his limbs with yours, face pressed into the crook of your neck. Gets real sad when you have to go, but allows it.

✦ He PURRS, you can not fight me on this. Running your hand through his soft hair and you hear a soft rumbling as he leans further into your touch.

✦ Takes a bit for him to relax in intimate moments, but once he does he’s so sweet. Resting his head on your lap as you both read, tail thumping against the floor.

✦ Usually you’ll have to pull him from his work to take care of him. He constantly forgets to sleep or eat, give him little reminders or suggest going out with him, he’ll take a bit to come around but eventually he’ll put down his work.

✦ Has these long sharp teeth. Loves biting you, affectionately of course, hes like a big cat, but feels so bad if you bleed. (This HC is partially based on this fanart I saw, their art is so good, please go follow them!!)

✦ Dick Headcanons— VENT, TWO DICKS. Has two dicks that are in a slit (also called a vent) I imagine he’s decently long but on the slimmer side. Not a grower, reaching just 7 inches when hard. Has no hair in the region, entirely smooth skin, also very sensitive.

✦ Poor baby was so flustered first time you two ever had sex. Didn’t matter if he was topping or bottoming, he was so nervous.

✦ Please guide him on how to please you, will help him feel a bit more comfortable.

✦ I imagine it takes effort to hide his Vidyadhara traits, so he would usually let them out during sex just so he can focus on you more.

✦ Make him cry, see the pretty teal scales on his cheeks shine from his tears coating him. I think he would have some scales on his body, mostly hips, shoulders, cheeks and maybe his jaw.

✦ Will wrap his tail around you, wants to be as close to you as possible.

✦ Definitely more of a lovemaking than fucking guy when he’s topping, y’know?

✦ Ohhh, but fuck him silly when you do top, pleaseee. Make his legs give out beneath him as you tease him, squeezing his soft skin, Dan Heng whining.

✦He absolutely whimpers. Very vocal, will press his hands against his mouth to muffle his sounds, might even bite them. Gets so flustered if you tell him you want to hear him or pull his hands away from his face.

✦ Slide your fingers around his vent, he’ll start crying and hiccuping, skin burning at your touch cause he’s just so sensitive there.

✦ He’s absolutely a pillow prince, just laying in bed looking all pretty for you while you fuck him or suck one of his dicks.

✦ Like I said, he’s a biter. Will claw at your back and sink his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his moans. Your body littered with bite marks once you’re finished.

✦ Honestly feel like being tied up his a huge turn off for him. Feel like he doesn’t enjoy being restricted. Though he wouldn’t mind if you held his hands above his head, just doesn’t want rope or anything around his wrists.

✦ Real big on aftercare, he will drag you out of bed so he can tend to any wounds you may have acquired and clean you up. Will run a warm bath for you, bonus points if you offer for him to get in the bath with you.

✦ Also loves showers with you, also just likes showers in general. Likes leaning against you as warm water falls on his back, massaging your hips idly. Just completely zones out as he absorbs your warmth, you might need to be the one to actually start cleaning up.

#📺 brenbofen’s stories #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dom reader #dan heng #dan heng smut #dan heng x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #headcanons #honkai headcanons #honkai star rail headcanons

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut!Bonus) Part 2.2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

Words: 3,7K

a/n: I swear it's coming to an end! I honestly wasn't going to use this part of the writing (that's why it's a bonus), but I ended up thinking it would be interesting to post since it was a story with good interaction. Furthermore, I enjoyed giving dimension to their intimacy!

Part1

Part2

...

"You have to be polite and gentle with me, Mr. Turner," your voice was sweet, and although soft, it didn't hide your concern. Seeing you unsettled made Alex feel uncomfortable in his own skin, which also meant he'd do anything to ease that for you. He ran his thumb over the pinkish pages of your notebook, immersing himself in each sentence and coherence. The tension in his shoulder muscles relaxed, and his facial expression became more pleasant as he finished and looked at you.

"No adorable wrinkle between your eyebrows, is that good?" Your chilly fingers touched his face, causing him to briefly close his eyes as you delicately traced the tips along the bridge of his nose. His mornings were much better with you there; he was certain that the days were brighter and undoubtedly his mood was better, akin to the feeling when waking up for a school trip when you were a kid or maybe not as sweet as that thought, but always good, he concluded to himself as he placed his hand on your bare waist, feeling the warmth within you, under his blazer that you had been wearing since yesterday. The combination of his clothes on you and your typical knee socks were adorable to him. He was in his usual white button-down shirt, that was entirely wrinkled and open, avoiding suffocation as he slept in it, which explained why he was only dressed in that. The fact that time had passed, and you both felt comfortable in such a setting without glamour or excessive importance, made it sound poetic to him; he might wear the same attire frequently, but it was a thought to him how you saw him.

You sipped on your orange-colored fruit juice, something essential he made sure to get during his grocery shopping to make you feel comfortable there with him. He once again felt uneasy seeing how you were still breathing tensely. He sipped the tea, which had already turned cold, and chuckled to himself as he tasted the sweetness on his tongue. You had woken up earlier, presumably immersed in your thoughts about the writing you needed to submit for one of your applications, and amidst that, you had made breakfast for both, an unusually large quantity. Alex understood it calmed you down, although he felt guilty for having a heavy sleep and not waking up together to mitigate the catastrophe your overthinking was capable of generating for yourself.

"Are you going to submit this?" he placed the cup on the table, adjusting in his chair. He hated putting sugar in his tea, but over time, he associated the taste with the one you always made for him and how it was to have you around, he would never let you know about it. He’d continue drinking in the same way, regardless. "Should I have more? Should I have a plan B?" His smile disappeared, and he shook his head. "I didn't say that, I like this one, little one." You calmed down at his touch, his large and warm hands on your skin, his thumbs tracing the area up to the curve of your breast. "But you think I could have been better, don't you?"

The affection in his gaze, as well as the calm circles he traced on you, eased the tightness in your chest. He smiled lightly, realizing that even with the momentary poor choice of words, he was managing to help. "I would take about 20,000 more of these writings from you in a day, without any suffering, believe me." His arms wrapped around you, his soft face against your stomach, the texture of his beard making you laugh as your hands tangled in his tousled hair. Sometimes he made you believe that being a teacher was torturous. His sleep-swollen eyes gazed at you, so affectionate and clouded with admiration as always when it came to you, and he concluded, "But I know you well, I like your writing, I like it enough to understand that you're trying to explain every stroke when you could leave more to question or simply open-ended." The tone of his voice was serene, punctuated, and precise; you appreciated how candid he was with you. "I like you just the way you are, I'm sure you're enough.”

You were at a loss for words, a silly smile gracing your lips as you hugged him closer. His face nestled against your skin. He could still hear your racing heart, but your fingers were more carefree at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. Before you even hesitated to pick up the notebook again, he squeezed you tighter, this time pulling your arms so that you were comfortably wrapped in his chest. He had a morning aura, lazy yet strong, a bit mixed with yours. He kissed your cheek, pressing his lips against yours for a prolonged, tight peck that made you laugh. Without letting go, he murmured, "Think ‘bout it later, please? Let's rest our minds and come back refreshed to work on it, it'll be better, princess." Amidst tickles on your shoulder, running towards your neck due to his growing beard, you gave in, letting go of the notebook as he briefly lifted you in the air as if in victory and carried you. With solemn blinks, his eyelashes brushing against your cheek, you already saw the ceiling, Turner's characteristic warm yellow lighting, his melancholic yet cozy personality making you feel wrapped in calmness within the sheets. The weight of his body intertwined with yours in a hug, the lazy and repeated kisses making you realize that mornings could not only be mellow and sleepy but also possess this taste, not just affections, but the feeling of being cherished nearby.

The kisses traveled from your neck to your torso, becoming a puddle at the level of your lower belly. As soon as you started to withdraw, feeling vulnerable in that exposure, his nose became delicate on your goose bumps, causing you to empty your thoughts for him. He already understood your body well, occupying your mind day and night; you wished to stay, longing to be there far longer than fate allowed.

He sighed, numb and the air missing from his lungs, taking in the dimension of how you were lying in front of him. Your skin was marked by the thin elastic of the baby pink panties, so fragile, with ruffled edges and cute bows. His large hand moved your thigh to the side, his lips parting in a sigh, and the adorable wrinkle becoming persistent as he felt the texture of your knee socks on his fingers. Penetrating the fabric, he squeezed harder. You grunted, closing your eyes and feeling relieved when he had his tongue in the spot, easing the damage while intensifying it by biting you briefly.

"Want me to take it off, Turner?" Your eyes were nervous, just like your breathing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, from how your hands were restless to how adorable you looked in his blazer. He found you beautiful, quite sure of it, and that made him blush just by the thought.

Still, he laughed softly at how you hesitated to say "Mr." before his last name and continued in a low, whispered voice, almost inaudible, feeling inadequate about saying his first name alone. As if he heard, you would be caught in a lie.

You wouldn't take a piece; you were aware that it was an act meant for him. However, in the midst of the adrenaline, you became vocal, and he understood that. “Alex?” He felt the frustration in your voice as you called his name out loud.

Your icy hand touched his wrist, wrapping around him and before he could look at you disapprovingly, your thumb made slow circles on his skin. You just wanted his attention, not to have control. He pressed his fingertips to your center, rubbing slowly as you spread yourself wider for him, following his movements with your fingers intertwined at the hem of his folded T-shirt.

“Thank you, Mr. Turner.” You made yourself more comfortable, eyes closing as your head sank into the pillow. He was firm and patient. Every now and then he would pull the edges, making the thin fabric fall back into place, which made everything go even slower and it felt so good. Just like the morning, you still felt limp and tired, it was difficult to keep your eyes open, even if you wanted to look at him.

“You can relax, lil’ one. I'm right ‘ere, there's no reason to let mean thoughts take over.” You liked how he read you. You calmed your tense knees, that you hadn't even noticed, and looked at him lazily as the tip of his finger pressed against you, touching the bare flesh and then collecting your excess. It was a bit embarrassing that you had already been that wet, but he was no different from the norm.

You felt guilty for not knowing how to ease him, you understood that he was going slow, and you were grateful that he was like that with you. Still, you thought it was unfair to let go of him when he always did you so good, without exception. After a while, and your assessments of how he lay on the bed, heavy in his underwear, the fabric going shorter due to lack of space. You didn't take long to realize that when he took time in the bathroom, he also whispered your name.

You kept it a secret of yours, you liked the affirmation that you were desired by him, but you wanted to be good for him.

“What is this, princess?" he asked, smiling widely as he saw your radiant face. He pushed his finger in, swallowing hard at how easy it was to slide it inside you. You closed your eyes again, a sweet sigh, soon feeling used to soaking him.

Unable to resist, he lowered his face and kissed your lower belly, going down until he placed a brief kiss on the socket of his finger and he could taste you on his tongue. He pushed the hem of his dark blazer away, having more of your body to cover in new bites and smiled between your skin when he felt your fingers penetrate his hair. He loved it. He pondered what his reaction would be if someone told him months ago that this was happening to him, with all these details.

And suddenly, guilt made him pull back, not in a way that he would scare you, but with a recurring thought he had out of pure fear of being bad for you.

“I like how I feel with you,” You thought about describing more, but you didn't know how. Feeling was definitely stronger than words. His features were relaxed, in a way he wasn't in classes, or with anyone other than you, and that was what you wanted to explain. The intensity of everything was easier, more colorful and comfortable. God, you would miss him so much.

He pulled the cute bows to the side further, urgently and delicately, and little by little he pushed another finger into you. He kissed his other palm, pressing it to your belly, making you calm down a bit. “The feeling is mutual, little one. I don't wanna ‘urt you.” You moved to the side, getting a better look at him. His face well slept and his jaw firm from working on you. Your hand returned to his wrist, finding comfort in the warmth of him. He threw his hair back, letting lint fall over his forehead, the chain around his neck followed his movements in a mesmerizing way and his chest was in a pleasant breath. When he stopped to kiss you, his scent along with the chamomile in his mouth were dizzying, but so memorable and unique of him. You wanted so badly to be his and his alone.

You played with the crumpled and soft buttons on the bem, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or continue, it didn't hurt but in fact his fingers were thicker than yours. With your free hand, you grabbed his shoulder through his shirt, taking a deep breath and then focusing on trying not to worry. “You can hurt me as much as you want. Take your anguish out on me, huh.” His chest rubbed against yours, your nails digging into him even as he slowed down on you.

“No, Mr. Turner, no,” your saliva ran down your throat heavily. Your worried eyes look into his, embarrassed, but not knowing why he stopped.

He was warm over you, his hot breath on your face being covered in light, precise kisses as he took in your soul through his blazer. You were his, with the same urgency with which your body snuggled against his. “I need you.” Your frustration made him laugh, he knew you could feel how much he wanted this by the way you held him, feeling him on your hips and sly tugs on his shirt. He had better ideas for you.

“I like how you keep calling me that, making it sound respectful and obedient, prolonging the word in your tongue” It was even better when it was carefree. Involuntarily, without you having to worry about whether he cared about it. He enjoyed the warmth in his stomach as you worked on the "r" in his last name.

“Do you?” He didn't need an answer, but he still nodded. The bangs prickling your skin as he rubbed his baby beard in more kisses to you. You wanted to know what to do, and it became more intoxicating for you as he took off his underwear. "I don't want to disappoint you, please–” He waited for your voice to die down, taking more caresses out of your vulnerability.

“You could never disappoint me, lil’ one. I don't want to ‘ear you saying that again, okay?” The syllables sounded strong, punctuated and cultured in each word. Was it normal to feel that way just with someone's voice?

You were comfortable, you felt light with him and you weren't afraid of crossing that line. The issue was that he was older, which made you think about how any mistake of yours could make him dislike you, even if such a statement had no confirmation.

He went back between your legs, ran his finger through the elastic of your knee socks and pulled briefly, making you gasp. He laughed, "I need you to answer me when I ask something. It's not like you to be a bad kitten, princess." And the coherence between provocation and sweetness left you softened by him, damp in your pink fabric.

You took your time looking at him, bringing color to his cheeks. “Okay, I'm sorry, Mr. Turner.” He had lifted his T-shirt a little, exposing his sexy lines and belly button. His pale skin was soft in contrast to his trimmed hair and how swollen he was that it looked painful, even though he hid it well; or you were always too nervous to notice. It was good to know that you were responsible for causing that damage to him. He waited for you to finish looking with a slightly silly smile. “Good girl.” You felt satisfied, without even being touched.

“I like your body.” You whispered, him blushing even more. He chuckled, nodding and continuing, "I love yours." You smiled, forcing your face into his pillow.

He ran his fingers down your belly, then his hands inside the edges of your panties and allowed himself to feel how wet you were. As expected, you spread out comfortably for him. Soon, he pulled you closer to him. Little by little, he let you feel his length against the fabric, making you whimper slightly. “I'll rub you, nothing more. Provide relief for both of us, little one, as you suggested, is that good?” He was suggestive, comforting you. Him talking to you through that made you more relaxed and surrendered to him.

“I like that, yeah,” You nodded, your fingers between the sheets, occasionally hovering over the blazer.

He pushed your damp panties aside, sliding himself into you until he was settled in your crease. He squeezed your waist, molding you to him as your knees came up a bit giving him more access. He rested his hands on your panties, comforting the shape of him spilling over the fabric, and pressed himself into your juices tight.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, tiny one.” He was out of breath, trying to eliminate the thought of how he wanted to fuck you. He was sure he would slip inside you so easily and then you would masterfully swallow him until he was all inside you. However, he would still make you wait, even if he knew you were ready, he wanted to have every moment and memory of you possible.

“Am I being good, Mr. Turner?” You still sounded uncertain, fearing his reaction, even if you didn't know why. You believed it was just inexperience. He looked away from his own hands and wet noises, still working on crawling over you, soon having the wrinkle between his eyebrows softened due to your tears. You whimpered and squirmed a little, causing friction between your socks and his T-shirt. "It's too much, prince.” He smiled at how adorable you were, slowing down and leaning into you better.

“You can take it out on me, princess.” He said, watching as you tugged at the sheets in agony. Soon, your nails and fingers were digging into his wrists and arms. Noticing your good response, he followed with the same slow pace, failing to hold the moan in his throat as you melted beneath him. Your breathing eased, as did your hips and he traced his fingers in circles on the spot to comfort you. "Shhh, I've got you, little one. It's okay.”

You nodded, copying him, actually feeling numb. You were incapable of verbal, but you insisted on having your delicate hand wrapped around his as he finished what he had started. You were so sweet to him. Watching him was good. His mouth was half open, every now and then he couldn't hold it back and grunted in such a good way, and his hair was everywhere. He opened his eyes briefly, making you sigh along with him as you felt your panties fill with his hot liquid, everything about it made you want that more often. You felt sticky, but it felt so good. He played with the bows, gave your thighs a generous squeeze with a satisfied smile on his face, cheeks red, and then pulled you to him before laying down next to you. You wanted to endorse him, you wanted him to exhaust you.

Curious, yet sharing his tiredness, you pushed his fingertips to the edges of your panties. He sighed deeply, following with his eyes, as he collected some of the fluid between his fingers and watched you bring it to your lips. You licked it briefly, memorizing the taste until you decided to suck his fingers into your mouth. He allowed you to do so, feeling as breathless as before. Gently, he pulled it out, tracing the line of your lips as you kissed his skin in a light smile. He couldn't help but imagine you on your knees for him, promoting him in your purest state of mind.

You kissed his shoulders, fitting every inch of your body to his. He held you close to his chest, and as your forehead rested on his, he brushed his lips against your nose and mouth. Your legs entwined with his, allowing him to playfully stroke your socks, and he chuckled at the comfort. He could sense his scent on you, just as he knew yours lingered on him, and it was so relaxing and natural. "I like your hair like this," you whispered, and something didn't seem right in your voice. "I like seeing yours messy too." He maintained the same tone.

The brief silence was comfortable, but soon he felt his own eyes welling up. "I'll miss you." He simply couldn't help but verbalize that, not because he feared the worst, but because he knew he couldn't say he loved you even though he wanted you to know he cared. So that was his immediate solution.

That was enough for your tears to flow and a knot to form in your throat. "Don't cry, my love." He kissed away your tears, drying your face as best as he could. You didn't want to say anything; he didn't blame you and, in a way, he understood. "Do you really think I'll make it?" You looked at him cautiously, even with red eyes. He smiled sweetly and wearily, "I'm sure you will; you're wonderful." You held his cheeks, showering him with more brief, smacking kisses. "You won't regret me, will you?" He held you tighter against his body. "Never; I'm afraid the opposite will happen." You denied, making him smile more. It was a difficult situation to explain, something that the purest experience would not be able to clarify; neither of you knew the answer to that. Not wanting to dwell on it, he asked, "How do you imagine living in California?”

And in a few minutes, you nestled into his chest, his fingers in your hair, and the answer came in a sigh that made him realize how important the place, the title, and your future job were to you, more than the uncertainty of the future. "I'd like to have a bookshelf, like yours; I don't have one now. I want to have breakfast, drink orange-colored juices and have some tea, watch the sunrise and walk on the beach after a long day. I wanna read the books you told me I'd like. – I know the weather doesn't really match your mood, but I think I would be better there. I don't know; I just feel like it seems right." More tears wetted his T-shirt, and he wanted to cry, but settled for comforting you even more.

"It's okay, you'll have it all." That made you think about how much better it would be with him by your side, with long conversations before bed or a few calls just to be silent together and liven up your day, but not everything was achievable. You just closed your eyes tightly and dove into him. "Do you want to take a shower with me? I need you to be clean before bed, I don't think it's a good idea not to clean yourself." You laughed at how worried he sounded and sat down, smiling at his cute face. You liked the idea of taking a shower with him.

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taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @picturezonthewall @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @billyseye @ouroboros311

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tagged only for teacher's pet : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini @wh0s-3v3

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wanna be part of taglist? !forms¡

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner fanfic