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#but he's been a rouge his whole life so
cosmosnout · 2 months
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And in the end, Rouge was like, “You know what? Sure.”
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pirateborn-a · 2 years
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     also Roger never intended for garp to raise Ace       but he did know that garp could’ve protected him, he knew that the marines would have gone hunting for his child and he knew that garp was in a position to do something about it            he’d thought that garp would have either stopped the hunt, or made sure that rouge and ace would be safe by hiding them       because who would expect the marine hero to do that ?
     roger just could’ve never predicted a world with rouge.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
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Life Lessons || CL16
Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed
WC: 2.9k
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Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.
He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.
Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.
“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”
“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”
“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”
Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”
“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”
Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.
Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.
He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.
“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”
You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.
“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”
“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”
“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.
“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”
“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”
Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.
He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.
His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.
“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.
You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”
“A-anatomy?” he stammered.
You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”
His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”
His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.
“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”
“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.
“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”
“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.
“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”
He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”
“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”
“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”
The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.
“You’re a good student,” you praised.
“I have a good teacher.”
You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”
His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”
He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”
“I thought that was a myth.”
“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”
He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.
“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”
Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.
“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.
“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.
You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”
You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”
Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”
Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.
“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.
“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”
This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.
“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”
Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.
“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.
His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.
“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”
He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”
Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.
“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”
“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.
You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”
He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.
“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”
He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.
Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”
You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.
“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”
He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.
“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”
He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”
“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”
He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”
“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
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Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)
AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 
Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 
Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 
Word Count: 2496
(all pics are from pinterest) 
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Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 
Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 
“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 
“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 
“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 
“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 
Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 
I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 
“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 
“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.
“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 
“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 
“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 
“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 
“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 
“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 
I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 
“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 
“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 
Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 
“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 
“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 
“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 
“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.
“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 
“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.
I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 
“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    
“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 
Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 
“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  
“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       
I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 
“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 
“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 
“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 
“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 
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When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 
A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.
I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 
“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 
“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 
He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 
“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 
Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 
“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 
“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 
“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 
“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.
“Yeah right,” I scoff. 
“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 
“Oh really?” I sneer. 
“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  
“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 
“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 
“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 
“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 
I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 
“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?
“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  
“Azriel I-” 
“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 
“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.
 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 
“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 
He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 
“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 
“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 
“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 
“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 
I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 
“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 
I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 
“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 
“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 
The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 
“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.
“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 
“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 
“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 
“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 
“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.
“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.
Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 
He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 
“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 
“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 
“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 
“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 
“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.
“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 
“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 
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(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)
(*) = Me building off of other ideas
TW: mentions of animal death
← previous
After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.
The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.
Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.
People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.
To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.
Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.
It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.
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I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!
Notes:
(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)
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archive-of-alexandria · 7 months
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Grease Paint (Buggy x Reader)
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A/N: This is my first attempt at writing on Tumblr in over 10 years, but I am so down bad for this man that I can't help myself. I'm working on drafting my Moulin Rouge! x Buggy long-form fic, and this was just something I scribbled out in the meantime. This is pure Buggy x Reader fluff, so I hope you enjoy!
***
For once in his life, the ever-flashy clown pirate has nothing funny to say.
Your thumb gently ran along Buggy’s cheek to correct your lines, and the genius jester felt the greasepaint being very obviously replaced by his own maddening blush. Your tongue pokes out in concentration, and he fights the urge to grab it between his fingers – haHA! Cat got your tongue! – and spoil the mood with a poorly concocted joke. 
Buggy blinks.
….Mood? Who said anything about a mood?
A blush begins to bloom under his collar. Buggy had, in fact, been planning a way to weasel his way into your heart for months - and it seems as if you'd fallen right into his brilliantly scripted scene....so how come he can't remember any of his lines?
You continue working, and Buggy’s usually frantic mind suddenly falls deafeningly silent. Instead, the captain seems to fall into a sort of trance – focusing the entirety of his attention on memorizing your face. He observes every freckle and crease, wishing to commit it to memory. This was the first time -the only time - he’d ever been this close to someone in this…domestic…way, holding his breath out of fear that the illusion of contented bliss would shatter. 
Buggy swallows.
He had planned for this, written out every charming and witty line he could think of.
Your eyes catch hold of his through the fan of your eyelashes. Now it was time for your ears to turn pink.
“You’re staring,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and Buggy practically melts as your eyes soften, “Something on my face?” As if on cue, a strand of hair falls in front of your eyes.
God.
He clears his throat, a soft chuckle rippling off his lips, “Well, now there is,” he muses, “Talk about a paid actor.”
You reach to push the hair from your eyes at the same time as he does, fingers awkwardly colliding as soft chuckles and mumbled apologies spill from both of your lips. Still, your eyes hold one another. 
You give way to allow Buggy to proceed, whose deft fingers trace along your forehead and behind your ear. Buggy feels electricity shoot through his hands at the feeling of his touch against you, swallowing as he allows his knuckle to caress your cheek. When you seem to lean into his touch, however, he panics.
It would seem he failed to write that into the script.
Buggy barks out a laugh, gently nudging your face and making a pop! noise with his lips to try and swim back to shore before he’s too far gone. You grab hold of Buggy’s lipstick, the last bit of his flashy facepaint to be applied. 
"And, for the finishing touch," You hum, taking his chin in your hands as you lean forward with his lipstick in hand.
Buggy's heart hammers against his chest as he feels your breath against his lips, the blood rushing to his ears in the same fashion as one hanging from a highwire.
At this moment, he indeed feels as if he is on the trapeze - delicately balancing with the hopes of making it through without a fumble.
“Doh–!” A chuckle passes through your lips, closing your eyes tight at the sight of Buggy’s comically crimson mouth. In the months that you’ve been a part of Buggy’s crew, you've never seen his makeup so fresh…and the sight was actually rather startling. It was as if the captain was in bad 3D, sponsored by technicolor, painted in by the most potent Crayola markers known to man. Buggy’s whole face looks crimson, but perhaps it's just a reflection of the brutal lipstick…
Buggy’s lips, like two bright cherries, suddenly form a pout at the sound of your laughter. His heart sinks, mind immediately skipping to the worst possible conclusion: You agreed to do his makeup not because you might care for him, but rather this was your chance to humiliate him. Buggy could feel his heart clench in his chest, and his delicate balancing act was about to turn into a dive routine.
“What?” He manages to quirk his lips into a strained smile, “You didn’t make me look like a clown, did ya-? Hrumph-!” His attempt at salvaging his pride is derailed by your thumbs pressing to his lips, your giggles giving way to a radiant smile. Little did he know that your fingers against his lips were just as much an attempt to quiet him as they were an excuse to touch Buggy.
“This color is so much more red than usual,” You say, your face growing warm, “What did I do wrong?” 
A blink. Moments pass as Buggy stares at you with saucer eyes before his hands fasten themselves to your wrists with a gentle tug. Had you realized that your fingers were still attached to his lips? 
“If you must know,” he gulped, “I have a top secret makeup technique.”
“Oh?” You feign surprise, leaning closer to your captain. A smirk twists into your lips. “Top secret, eh? Even from me?”
You bat your eyelashes, emboldened by your captain’s sheepish expression, and Buggy mutters a curse under his breath. 
Oh, fucking fucking fucker fuck.
Buggy’s voice lowers and his grip on your wrists tighten, the creak of the supple leather breaking the silence. “Especially from you.” A blink passes with the realization that Buggy wasn’t cracking a joke or being wise. He genuinely seemed…embarrassed. You’re not deterred yet, and instead, he finds you leaning in closer as your legs involuntarily squeeze together – Just imagine what those gloves would feel like in your –
You’re nearly nose to nose with the dread pirate as the air settles thick. For months you and Buggy have fallen into the old routine of cat and mouse, always teetering on the precipice of…something. The way Buggy allows his eyes to follow you during your routine without shame and latches on to your figure like a predator observing his prey is undeniable. He relishes in watching your body twist and writhe on the acrobat hoop, and you'll admit that all of your special tricks are, indeed, for him. You live for the moments he would stalk up behind you after a performance during the roaring applause when no one would be able to hear his voice - low and thick - praise you with lips ghosting your ear: “What a good girl you are, hm? Making your captain proud.” 
Your eyes fall to Buggy’s lips.
“Show me,” you swallow thickly, brushing your nose against his, “Show me your special technique.” 
Buggy’s eyes flicker elsewhere – anywhere – from your gaze before deciding upon your own lips. His grip falters, his body erupting into flame as his eyelids flutter. 
This was it: the climax of the show he has been planning and rewriting in his dreamworld for months. Buggy's flashy showmanship, however, deflates. Your hands are suddenly dropped from Buggy’s grip as he pulls back, redirecting his gaze to his now unoccupied hands. As he begins to peel off his gloves, the silence shifts into something unsettled. The fizzing tension between the two of you seems to thicken.
Meanwhile, Buggy is desperately trying to suppress an impending, raging hard-on. He already feels humiliated enough at the fact that you're laughing in his face, and now...
Cabaji had made fun of Buggy for weeks after discovering the wanted poster smeared in crimson red grease paint in Buggy’s quarters, your face barely visible beneath layers and layers of kiss marks. Buggy initially tried to cover it up, claiming it wasn’t intentional and he just needed something to “blot and perfect” his signature look with at call time. However, the sheer amount of kisses scattered across the page betrays him. There is no denying that Buggy was completely smitten with you. And here you are, practically begging him to kiss you. The set-up, the lead-in, the wind-up to the punchline…It is the perfect joke, all at his expense.
At least Cabaji hadn’t found the other copy of your wanted poster, crinkled and smeared thick with Buggy’s–
“Bugs?” Your hand on his thigh pulls the captain out of his thoughts, eyes darting up to meet yours with an unmistakable look of guilt as he tries to wipe away the memories of his moans and your wanted poster slick with his– “Are you okay?”
The clown clears his throat, finding the willpower to bring his fist before his face with a flourish as his humorless eyes settle on yours in an attempt to save face.
“For your viewing pleasure,” he forces a smile, “The technique!”
Without another word, Buggy begins to rub his lips back and forth vigorously against the top of his hand in order to remove the excess pigment. 
Fuckingfuckinghellthisissostupidthey’regoingtofuckinghatemewhatamIevendoing–
His brilliant demonstration is put on pause as you take hold of his wrist, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. A sheepish grin attempts to cross his lips, but it falters. His eyes fall to the floor.
He looks ashamed.
“For once,” Buggy’s voice is hoarse as he huffs out a laugh, “I don’t have anything funny to say.”
A beat. 
The intimacy of the moment is almost too much to bear, and your skin pricks with nerves.
“Buggy…” you breathe.
Your fingers find his face once again, tenderly wrapping around his chin. Buggy squeezes his eyes shut as you guide his face up to you. He refuses to see the expression in your eyes as you stomp on his glass heart. Suddenly you're cradling his head in both of your hands, “Buggy,” you mused, “I have a better technique to share with you.” 
Your noses bump against one another.
A choking noise passes through Buggy’s lips, and in a moment of sheer desperation for tenderness he whispers, “Please.” 
Your lips finally meet Buggy’s, and the awkward feeling of your body being too far away is overcorrected by the desperate captain. Buggy follows your lips with his body like a man possessed, knees knocking with yours as his arms swallow you whole. His hands find purchase wherever they can, trying to quickly grasp any and all of you as if you'd disappear. It's awkward, teeth knocking against teeth with the expertise of someone never before kissed, and you can't help the smile that comes to your lips.
You break away and Buggy’s breathing hitches, eyes still closed and hands gripping you so tightly you know you’ll have bruises.
You don’t mind, though. Quite the opposite. 
You can always cover them up with a little bit of grease paint.
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audaciousacolyte · 6 months
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Could I request Sonic x Reader where they were childhood friends and now are dating several years down the line? 👉👈
Best friend boyfriend
Sonic the hedgehog x Childhood friend!reader
《|| AN: Heya!! Terribly sorry for the long wait, I've been cooking up quite a few little treats that I think that all of you will enjoy!! That being said the following headcanons are based on my own, personal thoughts on sonic as a whole. I hope you enjoy!!! ||》
FLUFF (Pre-crush)
◇| As many of us know, Sonic the hedgehog is the coolest guy around.
◇| Whether he’s rolling around at the speed of sound (Haha), or fighting off Dr.Eggman, he’ll be having a blast and a half doing it.
◇| I’d think that sonic met you while on one of his many adventures, probably around the same time he first met Knuckles or Amy. Maybe he saved you from a badnik attack? Or maybe you popped up to try and stop the mad doctor yourself?
◇| However the two of you met, He’s ecstatic to have another buddy to horse around with! (He wouldn’t admit it though, (mostly because he can’t) but also because he has an emotionally unavailable bad boy image to maintain!)
◇| Be prepared for him to drag you along on all of his adventures, because once the two of you are friends, he’s going to mess around and have fun with you whether you like it or not!!
(Post Crush)
◇♡| Sonic is, and will likely continue to be, incredibly emotionally evasive. This boy can, will and has run from his feelings like they were coming to drag him to the very bottom of the ocean.
♡◇| Seriously, he runs from his demons like nobody’s business. And you and I are VERY well aware of how fast sonic can run.
◇♡| When he DOES eventually begin to consider the thought that MAYBE he likes you more than a friend should, Sonic gets…well, not nervous exactly, but definitely a bit WEARY around you. Probably tries to play it “cool” (or cool-er, I guess) around you, but usually ends up making a complete fool of himself
♡◇| (It’s fine though, you usually just laugh it off or play it down to spare his pride. He REALLY appreciates it.)
◇♡| He likely only begins to acknowledge his feelings after he meets Elise during the (very confusing) events of Sonic ‘06. (And also because Tails keeps teasing him about his (BIG, FAT, VERY OBVIOUS) little crush)
◇♡| Genuinely has no clue what he’s supposed to do with this information. He’ll probably just…sit on the fact that he likes you like that for a while. (And then go to Amy or Rouge for help, because what else is he supposed to do?)
♡| You are going to have to make the first move. Full stop.
♡| Sonic may be impulsive and quick on the uptake, but he’s got NEGATIVE ZERO relationship experience. He is out of his depth already with this crush, he’s not about to confess to someone he’s known for practically half his life at this point.
(Post dating)
♡| MASSIVE FLIRT, he will tease and fluster you FOR AGES. he WILL NOT get tired of it, EVER.
♡| (However, If you flirt back, he’ll turn into a flushed red mess… he can dish it out, but he sure can’t take it!)
♡| REALLY likes holding your hand, he finds it soothing to know that you’re never too far away from him while out and about. Sonic probably also plays with your fingers a lot as well.
♡| ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES,ADVENTURE DATES
♡| I feel like Sonic would probably do stupid shit in front of you to show off.
♡| He has done ENTIRE CHOREOGRAPHED ACROBATIC ROUTINES while fighting eggman’s mechs when you were around as a way to showboat. (Nobody knows where he learned to do this, but it worked way too well for anybody to complain.(Eggman was so confused that he just…stopped functioning for a hot minute. He genuinely did not know what to do))
♡| Will do stupid little victory dances on Badniks for no reason other than to see you smile.
♡| Loves, loves, LOVES when you are goofy with him. It’s just so endearing to him!
♡| Please, for the love of all that is holy, play with his quills when y’all are cuddling!! He may say he hates it because it messes up his ‘do, but he actually loves it! (he does get a bit freaked out when you don’t do it though. He thinks that he did something to upset you if you don’t mess with his quills and will frantically try to “win” your love back or something)
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sim0nril3y · 12 days
Text
Revenge
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: I'm sorry for this one, but just a silly little imagine after writing that angst. So, after smacking Simon's bum playfully he decides to find his own revenge which spirals chaotically. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), playful spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, canon-typical swearing.
What was he going to prepare for dinner tonight? Simon was standing looking into the vast emptiness of the fridge, the empty shelves mocked him, the lonely jar of marmite smirked and jested whilst he stood there arms crossed, stance wide as if he was going to tackle the appliance any moment to try and find its secrets and hidden compartments.
From behind he heard you shuffling into the kitchen, placing down your long finished mug of tea and approaching him slowly. “Love-” Whack~ A rouge hand struck his butt making him jolt a little in surprise. It hadn’t hurt. The act alone had just shocked him into a stunned silence. From behind you cackled laughing, especially as he turned slowly to finally face you. “What?” You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.
Those dark eyes of his narrowed, looking at you with a calculative glare, jaw set and muscles wound tight. “There’s nothing in the fridge.” He continued his long abandoned sentence before his rear had been struck. “I’m gonna order a take-away.” He bit out, before stepping around you. Realistically the only thing left on Simon’s mind was revenge.
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It was a few evenings later after a steamy showered before bed when you were hanging up some clothes into the cupboard you shared. Now, shared was probably a loose term when it came to the cupboard, as a good portion of it was made up of your pretty dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and jumpers a whole cascade of shoes beneath. Then shoved to the side was a measly bit of space for Simon’s clothing.
Thwhack! A sudden strike on your own rear sent you whole body hurdling forward into the cupboard, body pressed and clinging to the hanging clothes to keep your unbalanced body upright. “Ow!” You yelped; your voice muffled between the clothes. Turning your face and seeing Simon looming behind you, arms crossed and proud smirk on his face. “What the fuck?” You squeaked. “Just a little payback, love.”
As you leant there, your eyes widened. “For bloody what?!” You huffed, trying to push yourself up. “For smacking your bum like a week ago?!” You growled. “I didn’t send you headfirst into the fridge, Simon and I certainly didn’t smack you that hard…” You vented and this only caused him to chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard-” “It wasn’t soft either. I bet it’ll bruise…”
“Let me check.” The words came out quick and before you knew it Simon was tugging down your leggings and knickers to inspect your rear. “Simon!” You squeaked from inside the cupboard still, hands clinging to the fabric of your clothes, creasing them beneath your clenched fingers. “Simon…” You whimpered softly as you felt him kneel behind you, carefully taking the globes of your arse into his hands and stroking them softly. “You’ll be fine, love…” Simon mentioned, carefully pulling them apart, squeezing them, stroking them before placing a few stray kisses to the struck skin. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”
From inside the cupboard you nodded, whimpering out a soft. “Yes, please.” “So polite…” Simon murmured, pulling carefully on your hips so that your arse stuck out a little further, placing a few kisses to the backs of your thighs, higher and higher causing you to squeak as his face dipped forward to find your soaked cunt, all pretty and leaking for him. “Fuck…” He growled, wanting to start slow and build up but simply unable to hold back as he got a taste of your wonderful juices. They were addictive to him. Once the first drop touched his tongue Simon craved more and more.
From where you were leaning awkwardly into the closet you could simply only cling to your clothes and accept the laps and presses of his tongue and mouth, moaning loudly as his hand slipped around your body to find your clit, massaging it beneath his fingers in tight circles. “Simon~ Simon~ Ohgod~” You cried in pleasure; it was like the air was thick as his hand smacked down playfully against your arse. “Please. Please. Fuck~”
The cry of his name only spurred him on more. Burying his face into your wonting cunt, growling and grunting as he sort to find your end. “There. There. Don’tstop. Don’t stop.” You panted, your body trembling as your end built and built. A second later Simon tugged away, smacking his hand against your rear and causing you to yelp in surprise. “Si, please. Please. Please… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for smacking your bum. I’m sorry. Please.” Without even having to press you for some sort of apology for your day old lapse in judgement you gifted him one, over and over. God, it was difficult to decide what sounded more pretty your beautiful moans or the sound of you succumbing to his will.
“Good girl. Good girl.” Simon smirked, spitting on your cunt and fucking a few fingers into your cunt, shunting the thick digits deep to find your special spot. “You won’t do it again, will you?” “Never. Neveragain. Never. Never.” You chanted, squirming as your knees knocked together from the sudden invasion. “Never. Promise. Pro-aghg…” The final promise caught in your throat your juices soaked his hand, something which Simon would happily clean up.
“There’s my good girl.” Simon chuckled. “There we go…” He coaxed, rubbing your lower back soothingly to coax you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm. “Good girl. My good fucking girl-”
Now, if he had been able to hear over the sound of your panting and crying out and moans then he probably could have heard an ominous noise from within the cupboard, however that hadn’t been the case and instead was startled when the beam holding up hangers of clothes up cracked from having you probably hanging off it too as you clung to the clothes. It sent you toppling to the ground, clothes burying you on top of the shoes that lay at the bottom.
For a moment he knelt there completely taken back by your half naked body sticking from the cupboard under all that mess, then he acted and quickly tugged it all out of the way, finding your body beneath. “You okay, babe?” He asked quickly. “I’m so bloody good.” You whimpered; face completely dazed with lust.
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Masterlist | Ask | 13-04-2024
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dragon-kazansky · 2 months
Text
Symphony of dreams
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Morpheus x Female Reader
You are his lover. When Morpheus was captured, you fell into the deep sleep. He has no idea until he returns to his realm where Lucienne tells him what happened. Unable to help you until he gets his tools back, he is more determined than ever to get his full power back.
{Masterlist}
{Next Chapter}
Warnings: None really. Just the start of the story.
Chapter One - See you soon
☆☆☆
The Dreaming. The place people go to at the end of the day. When they're all tucked up in bed and drifting off, they come here. A realm full of stories and adventures. A realm where dreams and nightmares thrive.
The Dreaming is also home. Home to many creatures and beings. It is the realm of the lord of dreams and king of nightmares. Dream. That is how he is commonly known. Morpheus, to those who really know him. He's Darling to his wife.
His wife. A woman he met many years ago. She was a gift to him. A gift he fell in love with once he learned how to open his heart to her. She has been by his side for many moons now.
This is their kingdom. Their life. Their home.
Now, Morpheus was about to leave his realm in search of a rouge nightmare. It wasn't often anyone left The Dreaming, but occasionally, Morpheus had walked among the mortals.
He stood on the steps of his throne, tools in hand, preparing to make his leave. The Corianthian was free, and he had to stop him. Beside him, his wife stood with his helm in hand. She looked just as beautiful as she always did. Lucienne stood at the bottom of the stairs, a glint of worry etched into her gaze.
"My lord, you are coming back, aren't you?"
"Why would I not return, Lucienne?" Morpheus asks.
"Of course he will come back," you say, looking at your husband. "He will always come back."
Morpheus looks at you with a gentle gaze in his eyes. His hand is being held by your free one. He loves the way your fingers curl around his.
"As powerful as you are here in your realm, dreams rarely survive on the waking world." Lucienne explains.
Morpheus takes his helm from you and puts it on. You take a few steps down to stand beside Lucienne. Morpheus takes his leather pouch out and pours some sand into his palm.
"Nightmares, on the other hand, seem to thrive there."
With a quick gesture, Morpheus throws the sand up, and it swirls around him. You do not take your eyes off him until he is no longer standing on the steps of his throne.
You sigh softly.
"See you soon, my love."
☆☆☆
"My lady, if I may?" Lucienne approaches you as you read in the library. Morpheus had been gone no longer than 45 minutes so far.
"Yes? What is it, Lucienne?"
"If I may say, do you really think it was a good idea to let him go?"
You smile as you close the book in your hand and look up at her. "Morpheus is capable. He can bring our nightmare back home. Have trust in him, Lucienne. He will come back to us soon."
Lucienne offers a smile and nods. She leaves you alone to continue reading. However, the book no longer holds your interest. You look at the ring on your finger.
"Come back to me, darling."
☆☆☆
2 hours have passed. There has been no word nor a whisper about what was happening in the Waking World.
You were sitting on the steps of the throne room, waiting. In your hands, you played with your ring, needing to feel aome aspect of him. The ruby sparkled, but it showed your nothing of where he was.
"My lady."
Jessamy flew in and landed nearby.
"Jessamy."
"He will return. He would never just leave."
"I know. I'm just worried."
The raven cocks her head to the side as she looks at you. She can see the worry on your face. Your eyes focus on the way you turn your ring between your fingers.
"The Corianthian is a complicated being." Jessamy tries to softly remind you. "Perhaps Morpheus is just having a hard tike locating him."
"Perhaps..."
Or perhaps something has gone wrong.
☆☆☆
A whole day passes. Morpheus has not returned home. You're pacing the floor of your chambers. You grow restless with each hour that passes without a word from him. Morpheus has never left you without a word before. He would have contacted you by now.
The worry seeps into your bones as you whisper his name and try to calm your racing mind.
A knock sounds at your door.
"Yes?"
Lucienne comes in and looks at you. The expression on her face tells you that there is still no news.
"I need to find him."
"My lady, you must not leave the realm. Please, rest."
"How can I rest when I don't know where he is? Morpheus would have sent word if he needed mkre time. Something has gone wrong, I can feel it."
Lucienne reaches out to rub your arms gently. She tries to get you to focus on her, needing you to calm down a little.
"I am aware Lord Morpheus would never leave you this long without sending a message back. I, too, fear something may have happened, but we must remain calm. This realm needs a ruler until his return, and he has bestowed that role to you. Please, my lady, get some rest. Who knows, he may be by your side when you wake." She offers you another smile.
You take her words to heart and nod. Lucienne leaves you in your room. You can not help but worry. However, you do as she suggests and get some rest.
You climb into the bed, which feels colder without Morpheus because you, and close your eyes.
"Come home, Morpheus."
☆☆☆
Lucienne knocked on the door to your chambers. No one had seen as of yet that day. It was unlike you to sleep in unless Morpheus had kept you up.
"My lady?" She calls, knocking on the door again.
No answer.
"My lady?" She tries once more.
Still no answer.
"Forgive me, my lady." She whispers as she opens the door herself. She is greeted by the sight of you in bed, fast asleep.
Lucienne approaches the bed. She would never dare enter your chambers without permission before, but it seemed you needed slight assistance in getting up today. Perhaps your heart was saddened by Morpheus not being present and needed the extra rest.
She felt for you.
"My lady, you must wake."
You did not stir.
"My lady?" She frowns as she takes in your current status. Something feels wrong. Lucienne reaches out and touches your hand lightly.
Something is wrong.
"My lady?"
☆☆☆
Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years.
Morpheus sits in his glass cage, trapped by the circle around him. Rodrick Burgess did this. He had tried to summon Death but instead received her younger brother. Now he was trapped.
Rodrick Burgess kept Dream down in his basement, stripped of his clothes and his tools. Morpheus had no way to contact The Dreaming. He had no way of contacting you.
His beloved wife. He missed you. He missed the sound of you voice. He missed your eyes. He missed the touch of your hand.
His ring. It was missing. They had stolen that, too.
Morpheus was without you entirely. These mortals had taken him away from his kingdom and away from his wife.
Vengeance.
He needed it.
☆☆☆
A century had passed. Morpheus had seen Alex Burgess grow old. Rodrick had since died, and Alex took over.
Morpheus could only hope his imprisonment would soon end. He had to return home. He had to return to you.
Alex had come down to the basement one last time. He pleaded once more. Morpheus, as always, said nothing. He just watched. Alex used the same words they had told him for decades. It would change nothing.
Alex gets back in his wheelchair and Paul takes him away, the wheel of the chair rubbing away a line from the circle. They had no idea what they had just done.
Morpheus waited.
He watched the two guards currently watching over him. One of them was talking about a holiday. Sun, sea, sand. Perfect. Morpheus looked at him. The guard yawned.
Today was the day Morpheus went home.
Using that dream, Morpheus escaped into it.
In the Waking World, the guard was shooting at the glass of his cage. It cracked and weakened. Soon, it shattered, and Morpheus was able to get out. In his hand was sand that he had taken from the dream. He blew it gently. The guard went to sleep, and Morpheus turned around to enter the portal back home.
But first, he had to deal with Alex.
☆☆☆
Alex Burgess would never wake up again. Eternal sleep was his punishment. For now, that was good enough. Morpheus was free to return to his realm and see the damage that had been done from being away so long.
He mostly just wished to see you again. A century was far too much time to be away from your side. His heart ached to be with you again.
Lucienne knew he had returned. She felt it.
Far out from the gates of his realm, he lay in the sand. Lucienne ran all the way out there to get him. She had never felt such relief before.
She ran over and shook him gently, waking him up. His blue eyes opened, and he saw her familiar and friendly face. He was home.
"Lucienne," he whispered her name.
"Your home, my lord." Lucienne was beyond happy.
"I am." He smiled.
She helps up to his feet. He takes a moment to look around. Lucienne is alone. He can only assume you are waiting back in the palace for him. The thought of seeing your smile again made his heart burst with joy.
The two make their way to the gates. Morpheus opens them. They slow open.
"Forgive me, sir, but the realm, the palace, they are not as you left them." Lucienne says, looking at him solemnly.
Morpheus looks at his realm.
Everything was in disarray. The palace was crumbling, falling apart. The luscious greens that surrounded his palace were gone. The realm looked... empty.
"What happened here?" He asks. His home, his realm, was nothing like it was. "Who did this?"
"My lord, you are The Dreaming. The Dreaming is you. With you gone as long as you were, the realm began to decay and crumble."
"And the residents? The palace staff?" Morpheus asks.
"I'm afraid most have gone."
"Gone?"
"Some went looking for you."
"And the others?"
"They thought, perhaps, you had grown weary of your duties, and..."
"What? Abandoned them?" He didn't want to believe such a thing. "Had they so little faith in me? Had my own subjects not known me?"
"If I may, sir, there is one other thing..." Lucienne said, not sure exactly how she was going to break this news to him.
"What is it?"
"It's about your wife, my lord."
Morpheus felt his blood run cold. Had you abandoned him, too? Had you, the woman he adored above all others, lost faith in him?
"Where is she?" He asks.
"Inside, sir."
Morpheus turns back to his palace. You were still here. You hadn't left. He cursed himself for even doubting you. You would never leave him, not willingly.
He makes his way toward the palace, or what's left of it. Lucienne follows him, knowing he does not yet know the full extent of what happened.
"Where is she, Lucienne?" He asks.
"In your chambers, my lord. But sir -" Lucienne doesn't get to finish what she wants to say before he is at your door. He knocks, but there is no answer. He opens the door, ready to scoop you into his arms and never let go of you again.
However, the sight the greets him is far from what he expected. Morpheus swears he hears his own heart shatter.
"No..."
You lay in the bed, peaceful, quiet, asleep. He walks over to the side of the bed slowly and looks down at you. He reaches out to touch your hand.
"How long?"
"My lord-"
"How long has she been asleep?" He looks up at Lucienne.
"I assume, from the moment you were trapped. I told her to rest while we waited for your return. She... did not wake again."
Morpheus turns back to you and caresses your cheek lightly with his finger.
"I will bring all the dreams and nightmares back home." He says softly. "I will fix this." He does not take his eyes off of you. "I will wake you from your dreamless slumber, and we will be together again. I promise," he whispers.
Lucienne can only watch her king gaze at his beloved. She had done everything she could to keep things going in his absence, but she knew this would hurt the most.
The Dreaming would be rebuilt. That much, he was sure of.
☆☆☆
@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt -
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nanaminsmoon · 8 months
Note
hey hru :) can i request connie x reader being both hyper sexual but reader chose celibacy so the sexual tension is always high and the make out a lot and connie can’t take it anymore
now how did you know that i was thinking about this like an hour before you suggested it?🤨 anyways i'm good and i hope you like it fren🤭
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cw: horny!connie x celibateblackfem!reader, pnv, phone sex, masturbation (f+m), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', 'my good girl', ('gorgeous), 'cuero' ('whore'), 'mételo, ma' ('put it in, ma'), 'despacio' ('slowly'),
wc: 3162 + lazily proofread bc i'm tired lol
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your celibacy had started long before you met him. after wasting your time with too many useless men, you decided to focus on yourself which led you to the decision to try and avoid sex until you were dating someone for, at least, two years. as good of an idea as it seemed at first, you couldn’t help but grow to hate the hastening of your heart each time you had to tell a guy you were feeling about your somewhat ‘extreme’ decision. luckily you only had to do it once, before you met the man who could only be described as your worst match; connie springer.
connie had a reputation that proceeded him, and a long line of women who would do anything for him because the dick was just that good. the first time you had met connie, one of his friends had brought up his nickname, ’cuero’. and once you found out what it meant, you hid your shaky voice with a small laugh. but, contrary to what you had thought of him, connie didn’t really care about you being celibate because he just wanted to be with you. though it took a while to get used to, he made sure he respected your decision and adhered to all your boundaries surrounding physical affection.
but sweet gestures would be layered to hide the bitter truth. that being, connie had never been through anything as difficult as this in his life. his friends called him dramatic, but he told them that they would never understand how infuriating it was to be laid next to the prettiest girl he had ever seen, his borrowed shirt moving up her body, and her thong doing nothing to cover her skin. all of that meaning that the warmth of her ass would just be pressed up against him, as he squirmed and cursed under his breath. for the first time in years, connie’s cheeks and ears rouged at the heat radiating off a woman’s skin, growing at the place you two connected to engulf him whole. he felt like a teenager again in the worst way possible; once natural mannerisms became awkward, words stumbling over each other in a way that made him cringe. there were too many times he felt like you could read his lewd thoughts as he watched you perform mundane tasks like getting dressed. but you had never noticed the way he observed you, wondering what you’d look like clothed in lip marks, accessorised with hand shaped stamps on your ass cheeks.
unbeknownst to your boyfriend, he wasn’t the only one having a hard time. celibacy had been a fairly simple journey until the day you stumbled across a fine dominican speed bump. now you worried about catching him as he came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging from his hip bones as steaming droplets of water slid down the valleys on his toned abdomen. or the dreaded times where he’d wear those stupid fucking compression shirts, with those stupid grey sweats and nothing underneath. when ovulation week rolled around, everything your boyfriend did felt like a taunt to you; sleeping in just his boxers, smacking your ass, kissing you, even the way his tongue and fingers moved as he rolled his blunts had you crossing your legs and shifting in your seat.
it had gotten to the point where making out wasn’t cutting it anymore. and that’s how you and connie’s sex life began to escalate. one night, your hormones got the better of you so you called your man in need of relief. excitement was audible in his voice when he picked up the phone, but it would soon be substituted with a panic that would seep out of his pores, when all he could hear was you breathing heavily. but, something in his brain told him not to say anything so he remained quiet as he listened intently. that’s when he’d realise that those heavy breaths were laboured, and probably caused by whatever was buzzing in the background.
”i need you to put a baby in me, pa”, you had suddenly broken the silence, and a deep breath left connie’s mouth. he’d have to shift in his seat to calm himself down, but it’d do absolutely nothing.
”you can’t say shit like that, hermosa.”, he replied through clenched teeth. luckily he had just sold to his last client of the day, so he’d stay on the phone as he drove into an empty car park. within seconds, his dick would be in his hand and his own breaths would harmonise with yours over the phone as he fucked into his hand, and talked you through your nut.
prior to that day, the furthest you had gone was kissing. whether it be in his car, in bed, on the couch when you’re meant to be watching a movie, or even when connie would join you in the shower to kiss on the wet skin on your neck, you had never crossed that line. it was definitely difficult when he’d be stood right behind you, his bare dick touching your cheeks and all, but you’d always keep it together. that was until the day you were sat on his couch, getting ready to watch a tv show together. everything was fine, until connie went to wrap a blanket around you. it was something he had done many times before, but this time was different; due to your proximity, his breath was going straight into your ear, and it’d grow uneasy as you maintained eye contact. the sound of his breath picking up was reminiscent of the times you’d fucked over the phone, and the salacious memories were making your eyes gloss over. connie could read you like a book; he wouldn’t even reach the second page before his hand would be on your thigh. it’d linger on the warm skin before it’d move up your shorts, while he connected his lips with the skin on your neck.
when he finally did pull back, connie would place his lips on yours in a kiss that was sweet…until it wasn’t. its romantic feel would fade out as soon as he heard you moan when he put his tongue in your mouth. and, once he felt your hand so high up on his thigh that it was practically touching his dick, he would throw away all regard for where his hands were—they’d start grabbing anything they could. discernment told connie to pull away, because your lips were shooing the blood in his head to the place between his legs. yet, it’d all go ignored. instead he’d pull you onto his lap and smile against your mouth when you just let him. the wetness between your legs would rub against the hard length about to break through his boxers as your hips moved on top of it. all that could be heard in that room was heavy breathing, quiet moans, and the sound of connie’s hands occasionally landing on your skin to smack your cheeks when he got bored of massaging them.
the feeling of your hands on his nape, and running through his short buzzcut, travelled throughout connie’s body to will his hands to pull you down onto his bulge as he began chasing any form of relief from you. still lost in how bad you wanted him, your hips would subconsciously help connie by moving faster. and it wouldn’t be until he pulled away from your lips to lean his head back on the couch that you’d be alerted of your actions. they’d immediately cease, and connie wouldn’t get what was happening so he’d be kissing on your neck,
”it feels so good, ma, just keep movin’ on me”. that request would be met with you moving yourself from him completely. judging by the pensive look on your face, connie knew exactly what had happened and remorse began to wash over the arousal he had once felt. soon his hands would wipe his face, before he placed one on your knee.
”i’m sorry, y/n.”, he quietly apologised, ”i…i don’t know what the fuck happened. i guess i just lost myself”, he picked your hand up, and kissed your knuckles repeatedly. of course it wasn’t just him, you should’ve known better too, so you shook your head and pulled him in for a hug.
”it’s fine. i fucked up too”, you chortled before pulling him back and awkwardly going back to watching whatever show you had picked.
and that should’ve been the end of it. but the feeling he had formed in your clit had yet to subside. so when you moved to his bed, later that evening, you decided it was about time you gave him what you both wanted. connie leant against the head board, with you cuddled up by his side and, with your each and every movement, it was clear to see that he was still sensitive after what happened earlier. using that to your advantage, you’d lay your hand on his thigh and, as soon as that contact was made, connie’s eyes would dart to you. just as he was about to open his mouth and question your actions, you got up and climbed onto him. curiosity told him to move his parted lips, but intrigue kept them still as he watched you move closer to his neck. small pecks on his skin would increase in length, as well as intensity, and a few marks would decorate his neck, before you moved on to kiss and suck at his earlobe. that, mixed with the way your hips started moving again, brought back the memories of what had unfolded on his couch a few hours ago.
”y/n”, connie voiced, head still tilted to give you better access to his neck and ear, ”what about…?”, the end of that sentence was unfinished for two reasons; connie didn’t like bringing it up, and he was just too horny to think of the word.
”fuck it.”, you answered curtly, “i just need you so bad, pa”, connie scoffed at you, yet he still wouldn’t move from his position, he’d just place his hands on your hips.
”you sure?”, his eyes opened to look at you, and they’d see you nod softly before you stopped what you were doing.
”i mean, if you don’t want to then we can just—”, you began to taunt your boyfriend, but he’d cut you off.
”fuck that”, is all he said, before he’d flip your positions so you were laying beneath him, and he was stripping your body of anything covering it.
connie had seen you naked many times during the 7 months you had been together, but you would’ve never guessed with the way his eyes were darting all over the place, not sure what to do with themselves. because they were seeing you in a way they had only ever dreamed of—dreams that would end in embarrassment as connie trudged to change out of the moist fabric covering his lower half. but now that you were in front of him, wanting what he did, he would have to take a second to think. then, once he knew what he wanted, connie would move from the bed to rummage through one of your bags. confusion would scrunch your eyebrows for a second until connie returned to your line of vision with your vibrator in his hand. cockiness would stretch his lips into a smirk at the discovery that you were unaware of him seeing it when you were looking for your socks earlier. thinking of all the possible things he wanted to do with it pulled you out of the present moment until the droning sound of the toy brought you back. in the time you had been daydreaming, connie had walked to the side of the bed and when he handed it to you, you’d look up at him to say ”really?”. he’d chuckle as he nodded,
”i need to see what i’ve been hearing for so long”, he explained, and your eyes rolled before they eyed the device as if you’d never seen it before. though you wanted connie, you couldn’t refute the fact that the prolonged buzzing noise exacerbated the wetness between your legs. so you’d spread them, and the way you acted without instruction widened connie’s eyes. they’d stay that way as you used the wand to tease your clit, moaning his name as if he were the cause for the way your thighs were already starting to tremble. and connie’d just watch you; eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned on the pillows and keened his name. he wouldn’t even realise that he was holding his breath until he let out a heavy sigh.
”mételo, ma“, he ordered gently, as he moved a chair and put it in front of the bed. his dick would be in his hand as he watched you do as he said. the calls that he had began to yearn for at the end of every day seemed meaningless in comparison to the display before his eyes; his beautiful girlfriend sprawled out in front of him, legs shaking at a toy she wished was him instead, and a growing patch of wetness on the bed covers underneath her.
”despacio”, connie’s strained voice managed to reach your ears, and you nodded, sliding the toy in you slower to give connie a better view of the slight stretch.
so lost in it all, your eyes hadn’t opened since the toy had touched you—your head had been on the pillows below you, as your back arched off the now wet bed. you’d only pry your drowsy lids open when you felt connie’s hands on yours, pulling the toy out of you, licking a strip of the wetness on it, before throwing it on the bed. he wouldn’t even bother to kiss you as he knelt on the bed, his thumb moving over his raging tip as he positioned himself between your legs. pink, and needing to touch the spot inside you that he knew would drive you crazy, connie’s tip would be rubbed in between your folds to collect as much of your arousal as it could. and, for the first time in too long, connie’s ego would awaken at the sound of the gorgeous woman whining underneath him, toes wiggling aggressively as he teased you. after a while, it started to look like connie was teasing himself; though he had literally dreamt of this moment, he wasn’t rushed. instead, he wanted to take his time and make you feel so good that you would beg him to fuck you every single second of every single day to make up for lost time.
when his tip finally did enter you, it’d still there for a second. it was during that second that you started wondering if you could actually take connie. you knew that he was big, but the thought of actually having to deal with that stretch had always been pushed to the back of your mind. luckily for you, he’d push the rest of his dick into you very slowly. and, about quarter of the way inside you, his forehead would be on yours—already sweaty, and starting to wrinkle in the middle. romance would reintegrate itself during that one second, because connie would connect your lips again, allowing his tongue to dance with yours in a messy kiss that would spur his hips to move again. and, as soon as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass registered in your mind, you’d intertwine your hands at his nape, keeping your lips attached to hide the sound of your moans. connie’d quickly catch onto what you were doing, and pull back from you to shake his head,
”nah, ma, i’ve been waitin’ on this f’r too damn long. let me hear ya.”
connie wouldn’t need to ask you twice because, after that, you gave him exactly what he wanted. and, other than fawning over the way you were cussing using the spanish you had learnt from him, connie was losing his damn mind. this was your first time fucking, and he honestly felt like it was his first time ever having sex because of how hypersensitive his dick was. he could feel every single micro spasm of your walls, and when they intensified to the point where it was difficult to ignore the twitching of his balls as you continuously clenched around him, he knew you were close.
”fuck, ma, how you been keeping this from me?”, he asked at you and you’d mumble out a nonsensical response. all you could focus on was the fact that your release was at the tip of your curling fingers, so everything else was just fading into the background,
”’mm so closee, p-pa, p-pleasee”, you pleaded, and connie pressed your legs against your chest as he fucked into you with more haste.
”need you to promise to never keep my pussy from me ever again”, he demanded through gritted teeth, and you nodded desperately at him, ”’f you wanna cum then you gon’ have to speak t’me, ma”, he kissed his teeth, and you would try your best to gather yourself to start speaking.
”i p-promise i prom-mise pppromise”, you stuttered out, and connie’s smile warmed you from above.
”that’s my good girl”, between the praise, and connie’s dick abusing your cervix, it wouldn’t be long before pleasured tears left your closing eyes as you came around him. and, being a retired man-whore, connie thought he could take it, but he really couldn’t; as soon as you started tightening around him, his eyes would shut firmly as he struggled to move in and out of you.
”shit.”, he whispered, head bowed.
his intentions to make you yearn for his dick wouldn’t be neglected. they’d quickly come into fruition because, even as he filled you with load after load and fucked you in every position his filthy mind could think of, you would still beg for more of him. in the time space of a few hours, you two had gone from trying not to give into each other, to refusing to not be connected in a way that made you both sweat. most of connie felt satisfied with himself, yet a small part feared the monster he had created.
© Rights owned by nanamoonsinc. Do not repost without permission.
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dreamrk99 · 2 months
Text
Endless blooms -mark lee 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
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Cw/ :mentions of nudity ( that's it is really a fluffy little work )
As I slowly opened my eyes, I found myself nestled in our cozy bed, surrounded by rose-colored sheets, and wrapped in my lover's arms. His warm breath brushed against my skin as he whispered, "Wake up, my love. " Although I knew he was right, I couldn't help but groan at the thought of leaving the comfort and happiness of the moment. My body was so comfortably nestled into his, and I felt a sense of contentment that I never wanted to let go of.
He gently placed a soft kiss on my forehead while lifting me with a gentle hum. "Good morning, my sunshine," he said in a tone filled with admiration that only I could understand. I nodded in response, slipping out of his arms and making my way to the pink vintage bathroom. I turned on the faucet and let the water run, enjoying the sound of the water filling the bathtub. The warm water was inviting, and I couldn't wait to soak in it
I stand by the bathtub, my gaze fixed on the tap as it slowly fills up the tub with steaming hot water. The sweet fragrance from the floral-scented soap wafts up, as the bubbles gradually form a foamy layer on the surface. As I wait for the tub to fill up, I notice a soft pink tint creeping up the water, giving it a soothing effect.
Just then, Mark, my love, looks up and catches a glimpse of my shadow from the corner of his eye. He smiles and I feel a small smile curling up the corners of my lips as Mark's kind gesture warms my heart.
.
Mark had been preparing the bath for some time now, adjusting the temperature of the water until it was just right. As I approached, he had already stepped into the water, his hand stretched out for me to take as he safely guided me inside. The warm, toasty bath enveloped my body as I settled into the tub, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly fade away.
Mark occupied the end of the tub, his back against the cool tile wall, his legs spread open, inviting me to sit in between them. The sensation of his warm skin against mine was comforting, and I felt safe and content in his embrace. The sound of the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub was soothing, and I allowed myself to relax fully, enjoying the moment of peacefulness and tranquility.
As I settle into the warm water, I feel Mark's arms wrap around me, his knees gently brushing against my sides. I turn to look at him and he smiles lovingly at me. I reach out and start playing with the bubbles on his knee, making little hearts and messages. Mark leans back, resting his arms on the rim of the tub, and I take a moment to admire him. The soap suds cling to his skin, creating a beautiful contrast against his toned body. "You look so pretty," he says, his voice soft and sincere. I feel my heart swell with affection for him as we continue to enjoy the peaceful morning together.
hmmm,” I hum as I lock my hands with his big ones “Pretty, “I say in a soft tone that makes him look down at me from behind me as I examine his pretty hand's moles adorning his skin locking so easily with mine all he can do is smile his face buried in my neck, leaving small kisses on it “ smells like home “ his whispers
My whole neck had turned rouge, and my heart was pounding. I was utterly in love with him. I turned around to face him, and our foreheads touched. I could feel his breath on my face, and I knew he was waiting for me to say something.
Without hesitation, I locked my lips with his. My hands wrapped around his neck as I relaxed into him. Our bare bodies pressed against each other as the warm bath water sat at my hips, tinted a pretty pink. I felt so safe and loved in his arms.
After a moment, I pulled back from the kiss and looked into his eyes. "I wanna be with you for the rest of eternity," I said softly, my heart pounding in my chest.
He looked at me with nothing but love in his eyes and replied softly, "You can." It was the happiest moment of my life.
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emthimofnight · 2 months
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I love Stellar! She's so cute! Love your art, keep being amazing, et cetera, but also I have a question:
You mentioned that at the time of Stellar's, shall we say, adoption, Shadow and Sonic were still in their "it's complicated" rivals era. I'm guessing Shadow wasn't especially close to Sonic's friends either? And that kinda got me wondering: how do Sonic's friends feel about Stellar when she first arrives? Obviously they love her on sight, but like, does Tails feel weird that he's now basically Shadow's brother-in-law? Is Amy a little alarmed at the thought of Sonic and Shadow being responsible for a literal baby? Does Rogue foresee the inevitable Sonadow to follow? And so on ...
Idk, would love to know more about the early days and everyone's reactions.
EEEHEHEH thank you so much for the compliment!!! 🥰🥰🥰
And I'll give you a quick rundown on everyone's feelings immediately after Shadow brought Stellar home!
Rouge was the first to know, as she was actually present when Shadow discovered Stellar. The two of them had been tracking some leads about Project Stellar for a while, not realizing they were stumbling upon another attempt at Project Shadow until they were right on top of it. Rouge initially tried to reason with Shadow, recognizing his anger instantly and trying to convince him to let cooler heads prevail. She even tried to warn him against removing Stellar from her stasis pod, fearing that it was acting as some kind of life support and would kill her upon removal. Shadow decided to remove her regardless, deciding that either way, a life in the government's hands as a weapon was no life at all. Still, Rouge convinced him to take her straight to Sonic—and, more importantly—Tails, since he had the tools at his disposal to give Stellar a proper look over.
Sonic and Tails live together, so they were the next in line to find out. Shadow basically showed up looking like he was out for blood with a baby in his arms, demanding that Tails use his equipment to see if she was okay. Tails and Sonic both wanted more of an explanation (like, where did you get a baby, WHY do you have a baby, why do you look like you just got out of a fight, etc) and Shadow would begrudgingly tell them what he'd learned, clearly deeply uncomfortable with the entire conversation.
Well, to say they would both be shocked would be an understatement. Sonic would be at a loss for words, for once. Tails, ever the scientist, would immediately want to look over Stellar to see if Shadow was telling the truth. By the time Shadow had handed the baby over to Tails, Sonic's brain would have rebooted and the motor mouth would start up again.
He'd be in total disbelief, really. He'd just start yammering on about every question and concern that would come to mind.
"The government tried to make another you?? With ME?"
"Does that make me a dad? Does that make YOU a dad?? ARE WE DADS??"
"I can't take care of a baby, I don't even remember BEING a baby! What do babies even eat??"
Etcetera, etcetera. Shadow would just stand stiffly in a corner of Tails's workshop, laser focused on whatever tests Tails would be running on tiny baby Stellar. He would totally tune Sonic out, instead focusing on the barely noticeable rise and fall of Stellar's chest, petrified that she might stop breathing if he looked away.
Honestly, the first night would be VERY tense. Shadow would still be high strung from the rescue, Sonic would be trying to wrap his head around the whole idea, and Tails would be devoted to running all the tests he could on Stellar to try and get some answers.
Tails would determine she was healthy, showed no signs of requiring any kind of life support, and was definitely Shadow and Sonic's biological child. Half Shadow's DNA, half Sonic's.
He would also realize in his tests that her energy readings were off the charts. Whatever they had been cooking up in that lab wasn't good, and Stellar was almost like a living chaos emerald. He'd immediately be concerned about the implications of keeping her around, but Sonic would have come around by that point, deciding there was no way he and Shadow would be getting rid of her.
Shadow wouldn't be so sure. He'd suggest talking to Rouge, Amy, or Vanilla about being a mother to her instead, since he wouldn't be confident in his own abilities to raise a child. Sonic would be annoyed by that, pointing out that it would be pretty messed up to try and pass her off on anyone else. Vanilla and Rouge both have their own kids to worry about, and Amy lives in the Sol Dimension with Blaze most of the time. He'd reason that they should at least try. Besides, who could possibly understand her more than Shadow?
Eventually, they'd agree to try raising her as a team. It'd be a begrudging decision, but one they'd learn to live with. The two of them wouldn't be romantically involved at this point, either, so the two of them had a LOT of growing pains trying to figure out how to parent together. Getting a baby government assigned to you is one thing, but having to raise it with your rival is another!
Oh, and as for Amy, Knuckles, and the rest of the group? They'd almost all be horrified LOL! Stellar definitely received a rocky reception at first! They all grew to love her eventually, though.
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writtenbysprout · 1 year
Text
I don't hate you
synopsis: Your boss, Aaron Hotchner, has made a point to make sure you know just how much he hates you. But the one time it goes to far, you confront him. 
pairing: aaron hotchner x BAU!reader 
word count: ca 1200
cw: swearing, jealousy, unfair treatment, somehow there's pining in here (don't ask how, it just happened.)
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You had just found a seat at the precinct, allowing yourself a moment of quiet. The smallest of breathers before the inevitable would come. And just as you let out a sigh you heard the all to familiar sound of your boss approaching. Derek following suit behind him.
In a swift motion Hotch slammed the door closed, leaving the three of you alone in the room.
"You just had to go rouge, didn't you!?" Hotch was the first to speak up as he towered over you, arms crossed over his chest, the ever present frown plastered to his face.
You try to mutter a reply, but as always he cuts you off, leaving no room for explanation.
"You put both your life and agent Morgan's life on the line for something that might've worked." His tone felt like daggers poking at you, making sure you felt every rift and scratch they left.
Up until now Hotch's nagging about your every flaw hadn't gotten too you. But something about his tone and reasoning today just didn't sit right with you. Perhaps that was what gave you the extra courage you needed to make yourself heard. Regardless of the cause you spoke up.
"It worked, we got the guy." You said, calmly at first.
"That's beside the point! You made an irrational decision that could've been fatal." Hotch was quick to pick up, discarding your argument. His eyes a fiery fury of rage. "He could've had a gun, or a bomb or.."
"But we profiled him as a.."
"The profile isn't always correct! You of all people should know that, being a profiler." Hotch cut you off again, not even bother to let you finish.
Morgan, who up until now had stood there in disbelief, straightened up, relieving you of some attention. "Hotch I think you.."
Hotch was quick to cut him off, glaring in his direction. "This does not concern you Agent Morgan, you can leave." 
Morgan was about to argue, but was met with another glare and Hotch's infamous words; "that's an order, agent."
Morgan shakes his head with a scuff. As he reaches for the door you see the resentment in his eyes. He felt for you, but there was nothing he could do. The boss had spoken and his orders was to be obeyed no matter how ridiculous.
Watching Morgan exit, you pushed yourself up form the chair, feeling the whole situation fuel you. You stood as tall as you could, wanting to present yourself as someone to be taken seriously.
“What have I done to make you hate me?” You snap, finally allowing yourself to ask the question that's been on your mind ever since you started.
For a split second you can swear you notice a flicker of confusion in Hotch's eyes, but before you can make anything out of it his harsh glare returns.
“I don’t hate you.” he scoff.
“Bull-fucking-shit Hotchner and you know it.” 
“I stand my ground.” he shrugs, not allowing you the satisfaction of having caught him on something. Even though you knew very well he was lying.
“I just don’t understand. I never get into trouble like Prentiss does. I don’t argue with you like Morgan. I do my job without asking details. Hell, I even put up with all the verbal abuse you throw at me every day! So if I have done something please let me know, cause I’m clueless.” Your voice faded into a plea. Wishing nothing more than to have some peace of mind and not have to tiptoe around him at every waking moment.
“I don’t hate you." He persists, yet this time is different. He sighs as if to continue, but you don’t care at this point. All you want is to know why he hated you. Why he put you through something you’d fought years and years to get away from with yourself. 
"Then why do you act like it?! I've done nothing but obey orders, never once straying from them."
"That's exactly why! You're good!," Hotch yells, but quickly compose himself speaking more softly, "You're too good..”
You mind falters. It's torn into a million different questions, but quiets momentarily as he continues.
"You're right in that I hate you." he admits, but the look in his eyes tells a whole other story. "I hate you for how you make me feel. I hate that I want nothing but to be close too you all the time, comfort you when I see a case takes a toll on you. I wanna be the reason you smile when you look at your phone, reading a stupid text. I wanna be the person you look for in a room full of people.”
“But you are!" Your closed fist pound into his chest with little to no force, mostly out of frustration of him being complete and utterly oblivious to your subtle hints. His hand takes a hold of your wrist in a tight grip and with a yank he pulls you closer. "You've always been..."
You feel yourself dangerously close to him, yet somehow not close enough.
“Then who is texting you?” His next words was spoken through gritted teeth and you couldn't help but notice the venomous jealousy dripping off his voice.
“Emily," When the name of is subordinate escape you lips you can tell the machinery in the great mind of his are turning. "She keeps sending me pictures of Sergio, her cat, and I just find him adorable, ‘n they calm me down if I’m having a rough day or a hard case.”
 “So all this time.." He lets go of your wrist, sinking down in his shoes. "I’ve been jealous of a cat?” 
You send him the look. The one saying well-du-uh!
He steps back, unsure of how to continue. It was clear to him that he had fucked up - massively.
How could he have been so blind? Looking back he'd found all the times you were there, simply there for him. Never once asking for anything in return.
And what had he done in return? He'd given you hell every waking moment during your day. He'd treated you like you were his biggest flaw, and still you managed to show him compassion?
He couldn't recall a single time you hadn't shown him the kindness of your nature, regardless of his cruel ways. You'd time and time offer smiles and wished him 'good morning' each morning, never once straying from it.
In his mind you'd already made up your mind about him, which made it all the more easy for him to keep you at an arms length. But he could see now that he was mistaken. And knew he'd regret it for the rest of his if he didn't try to mend this somehow.
So he said the only thing that came to mind, praying it'd somehow fix things.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.”
"Sorry's not gonna cut it, Hotch."
Crossing your arms over your chest, you watched him closely as he did something you thought you'd ever see him do.
He got down on his knees. Eyes never straying from yours. His next words chosen carefully, "Then tell me how I can make it up too you, I'll do anything."
"I have a few things in my mind."
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As If Destiny
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A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️
Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).
Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!
Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.
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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.
"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."
She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."
She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."
You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.
"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."
With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.
You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.
As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.
"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.
He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"
You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.
"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."
Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.
He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.
That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.
"What's your favorite smell?"
He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.
"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."
A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.
He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.
"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.
You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.
Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.
"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."
You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.
Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.
You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.
A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.
He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.
Hey, you can't blame a girl!
Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.
That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.
You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.
Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.
You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.
He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.
You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.
"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.
You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.
He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.
While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.
You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.
Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.
Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.
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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!
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pixiefeatherkw3 · 7 months
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SONIC HOCUS POCUS AU!!
"In wich Metal, Amy and Sage have to stop the curse of the Sanderson Witches before accidentally causing said curse in halloween night." //TW: mild-mentions to death, violence, and gore//
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Metal and Sage are new in the city of Salem, with their fathers (Ivo and Stone) moving out into an old family house that an relative of Ivo Kintobor left to his name. Amy is your local believer of all stuff paranormal and most importantly: the history of Salem, even being long-time friends with Tails, who is an all and all recognizable kid for being an allegedly descendant of The Sanderson Sisters. He doesn't seem to like how much attention he get's about it tho...
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Rouge, Sonic and Honey a.k.a: The Sanderson Sisters
Are the most famous names of the whole town,having been said to be the main inquisitors of spreding havoc and misfortune with witchery in Salem centuries ago:
-Rouge Sanderson, the oldest and most powerful of the three. She possessed a spell-book that was bound in human skin and contained her most powerful spells and recipes. -Nicky Sanderson (Better known as Sonic) that was a charming but deeply dangerous witch, with a voice that could control and lure the mind of anyone that heard him. Rumors said his own magic slowly brought him into madness.
-Honey Sanderson, a seamstress of enchanted puppets for curses and spells. Those who got tempted by revenge usually came to her and payed a big price for her terrible practices to control others.
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A lot of stories has been told around the years about the acts of the witches, such as the one of Knuckles E.: Rouge's lover, who was said to mingle with Sonic, so she poisoned the echidna and got Honey sew his mouth, so he couldn't tell Rouge's secrets even in death. But, by far the most well-known story, is the one of how the three witches where hanged. Having plans of taking the life of childrens to aquire everlasting life.
Legend says, that they did indeed took the soul of one Maria Kintobor, as a way to punish the whole Kintobor lineage for their persecutions against themselves, as the head of the family, Gerald Kintobor, was the main judge in charge of witches law by that time. The oldest brother of the family, Shadow Kintobor, was lost to this as well, cursed to live forever in the form of a black cat that guarded the only thing that could bring the Witches back: The Black Flame Candle. STAY TUNED FOR MORE...!
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bet-on-me-13 · 11 months
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Metahumans Anonymous Pt.2
Continuing where Part 1 left off
(This is Damian Robin)
(Also I need to add one more thing about the previous part. This is an Anonymous Meeting Place, so to protect their identities even more, they wear Masks or Face Covers to try and stay hidden)
Robin was hopping across rooftops on Patrol, going through an area that he has noticed they have been accidentally avoiding, when he sees a strange light coming out from a skylight.
He wanders over and sees an average looking man shooting Fire at another man, who seems to be shooting Ice right back at him in some sort of battle. They even have technological weapons and masks.
Looking around the room more, there are potentially dozens of Metahumans battling in the room, all with small weapons and Masks. At first he thinks they are being made to battle by somebody else, like a Fighting Ring. But then, the two from before call for the others to wrap it up.
Obviously, those two are leading the others, and all of them are there of their own free will, he can tell that from their body language.
He is convinced that they are a group of Metahuman Criminals training to take over the city using their powers. He was raised in an Assassin Cult, and he inherited his dad's paranoia, so he doesn’t even consider the idea that this is completely harmless. He also just recently moved to Gotham, so he doesn’t know the real reason for the No Metas Rule, he just assumes the rumors were true that his dad didn’t like Metahumans and never brings it up.
In his eyes the only reason they could have for using their powers secretly in a warehouse at the edge of town using weapon-like machines against each other, was because they must be training. And if they are training, then they must have a reason for it.
He sees the two people that seem to be the leaders of the group. An average looking man with Fire Powers and a tall but thin man with Ice Powers.
He decides to look them up on the Bat-Computer, after Stalking them and getting a glimpse of their faces.
The Fire Guy looks like he had led a perfectly normal life, a little too normal in his opinion. He must be hiding something, this was obviously a fake profile. It was too clean. (this was actually because he didn’t want to be noticed for his powers, so he tried to keep under the radar as much as possible his whole life)
The Ice Guy was more interesting. He comes from a small town out in Illinois, and moved to Gotham for a job. His parents are registered as People of Interest in the Bat-Computer for their research into other dimensions, and they seem to lean a bit too far in the Mad side of Mad Scientists. He must be the one supplying their weapons.
There’s also some interesting reports from his hometown, a large amount of Powerful Metahuman Villains who recently stopped attacking the city and started living there peacefully. Even the Mad Scientists, who once proclaimed that they would skin the villains alive, had changed their Tune and started advocating for the Villains rehabilitation. Something was definitely up with the Ice Guy.
Robin doesn’t report this to his Father just yet. He only just recently joined the Bat-Family a few months ago, he’s still 10, and he really wants to prove himself by taking down an extremely dangerous Metahuman Villain Group by himself. Maybe his father would cement him as his one true heir then?
He decides to get creative. He can’t defeat all those villains by himself in a straight fight, and he knows picking them off one by one would put them on edge, but maybe he could...outsource their destruction.
He anonymously contacts the Rouge in the area that the Warehouse was in, and tells them that a group of Metas was going to try and take them over soon. He hopes that the villains will just kill each other, and he could pick off the leftovers. It would be two birds for the price of one, taking down both of the Villainous organizations at once and leaving him the sole victor.
The night he initiates the plan, he returns to the cave to rest for a few hours before he can go back out to deal with the leftovers.
Then Batman rushes in, yelling that they needed all hands on deck. Apparently a Civilian Assembly that he was in contact with was under attack by a Villain Organization. He and Robin rush out to help, but the closer they get, the more Robin realizes they are heading in the direction of the Metahuman Villain Group.
Did they make their move? Tonight of all nights? He had perfectly set up a situation where he could get all the credit, but now it was all going to collapse because he didn’t anticipate that they would make their move so early!
They get to the Assembly and see the two different Villain Groups battling. The Civilians must have been caught in the crossfire! He had caused this hadn’t he? (more than he knew)
He decides to take action, and defeat the biggest threats on the field. That of course, meant taking out the most powerful Metahumans in the battle. He goes for the second Leader, the one with Fire Powers, and knocks him out.
Before he can move on, one of his brothers calls out “Robin! What are you doing! Those are the civilians!”
By the time the battle is over, and the Villains have been repelled, Robin has realized what happened. The Civilian Assembly that was being attacked was the Villain Group that he had set up.
Of Course Batman would have known about the gathering of Meta-Humans in his City. He had met up with them months ago and made a deal with them to protect them in return for keeping their head down.
Thankfully nobody had been hurt to badly in the attack, and the Metas with healing powers could fix up most of the damage, but now that one Villain Organization knew about them, every single other one would know within a week. Their little slice of Heaven had been taken from them.
Danny is happy that none of their Masks were taken off or ripped, so none of the Villains will be able to see their faces, but they would need a new location if they ever decided to do in-person meetings again.
If they ever felt anywhere near "safe" again.
Basically, Damian f#cked up...
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