#but like....what if it was a size shifting response to anxiety. like it just activates

[shamandrummer]

Group Drumming Better than Antidepressants

A study published by the Public Library of Science (PLoS) scientifically validates what so many drum circle participants have already experienced first hand: group drumming produces significant changes in well-being, including improvements in depression, anxiety and social resilience.

With the World Health Organization identifying depression as the #1 leading cause of disability, globally, and psychiatric medications causing severe side effects, including permanently disabling the body's self-healing mechanism, drug-free alternatives are needed now more than ever.

Could group drumming provide just such a solution?

Titled, "Effects of Group Drumming Interventions on Anxiety, Depression, Social Resilience and Inflammatory Immune Response among Mental Health Service Users," UK researchers enrolled thirty adults who were already recipients of mental health services but were not receiving antidepressant medications in a 10 week program of drumming versus a control group of 15. The two groups were matched for age, sex, ethnicity and employment status. The control participants were informed that they were participating in a study about music and mental health but were not given access to the group drumming sessions. The treatment group received weekly 90-minute group drumming sessions over a period of 10 weeks. The drum group sizes were between 15-20. Each participant was provided with a traditional African djembe drum and sat in a circle. Twenty percent of the session time involved instruction and talking, whereas 80% was direct participation in music-making. The control subjects were enrolled in community group social activities (e.g. quiz nights, women's institute meetings and book clubs). Both groups were monitored for biomarkers related to immune status and inflammation, e.g. cortisol and various cytokines, to track the biological as well as psychological changes associated with the intervention.

The results of the study were remarkable. Significant improvements were found in the drumming group but not the control group. In summary, by 6 weeks the drumming intervention group experienced decreases in depression, increased social resilience; by 10 weeks they saw further improvements in depression, alongside significant improvements in anxiety and mental wellbeing. These changes continued to be maintained 3 months follow-up. The drumming intervention group also saw their immune profile shift from a pro-inflammatory towards an anti-inflammatory response.

This remarkable research opens up the possibility that group drumming may produce positive psychospiritual changes that, in comparison to conventional treatment with psychiatric medications like Prozac, support side-effect free improvement in parameters beyond symptom suppression.

Additionally, when one considers that the benefits associated with conventional pharmaceutical treatment of depression may actually result from the placebo effect and not the chemicals themselves, as well as the fact that antidepressants can cause severe adverse effects including suicidal ideation, the findings of this exploratory study becomes all the more promising.

Another important discovery here is that group drumming down-regulated inflammation within the immune profiles of study participants. Could the dysregulation of inflammation be a root cause of a wide range of psychiatric disorders and anti-inflammatory interventions a solution? The inflammation-depression link, in particular, explains how interventions such as turmeric have been clinically proven to be superior to common antidepressant medications like Prozac, presumably because of turmeric's broad spectrum and systemic anti-inflammatory properties.

#group drumming #drum circles #drumming #drums #drum therapy #alternative therapies

[askegwene]

The Reason Why Is Pain Management Crucial?

Pain management is the key to increasing the quality of your life. Pain can make it difficult to enjoy the things that you enjoy, and also prevent you from spending time with your loved ones. To find out more details on pain relief, you have to visit https://www.mid-day.com/ site.

Your mood and your ability to think can be affected by pain. Pain can even cause difficulty eating or sleep, which may worsen other symptoms. Pain can lead to a variety of health issues, including the increase in blood pressure and heart rate and delayed healing. Controlling pain eases pain.

The pain is one of the major health issues within the United States. About half of Americans visit a doctor with an initial complaint of pain each year. The most frequent reason for pain is that it is the reason why people see a doctor. A majority of people suffering from pain do not see a doctor.

It is expensive to take care of pain. It affects both the health system and society at large. People suffering from chronic pain have a higher percentage of medical utilization as well as a lower rate of productivity. Even though these costs are substantial however, one of the biggest burdens caused by pain is on the quality of life. It is generally accepted that pain is a major element in determining the quality of life. It affects an individual's capacity to play diverse duties in the society and reach an acceptable level of satisfaction within those tasks. Quality of life is more relevant to both patient satisfaction and willingness to adhere to the treatment.

What exactly is Pain Management?

Pain is the most common reason for a visit to the doctor. The frequency of pain increases as people age and females are more vulnerable to pain than men. Pain Management is a method of medical treatment that uses research-based methods and alternative therapies to research the prevention, diagnosis and treatment for pain.

Based on the following traits On the basis of these characteristics, pain can be classified as acute or chronic.

Acute pain is an ordinary response to injury or medical circumstances. It is usually sudden and is usually short-lived.

Chronic pain - This continues over the period of time that is expected to heal. It typically lasts for more than three months.

A dull pain or a sharp stab could be described as pain. It can be mild to severe. The pain may be felt in just one area of your body, or it could be widespread. Sometimes the pain feels like it's coming from a particular area, but it is the result of an injury or inflammation of another structure or organ. This is known as referred pain. It's caused by the interconnected sensory nerves connecting different tissues. Pain in one area of the network may be misinterpreted by the brain to be occurring in a different part of the network.

What are the strategies used to treat Pain Management?

One-size-fits-all is not suited for pain management. The way physicians deal with pain depends on the person, their location and what type of pain they are facing. Different methods of managing pain are:

Lifestyle shifts:

The primary factor to reducing pain is in your daily routine. It is possible to make positive adjustments to reduce your discomfort. A healthy diet, keeping an ideal weight, reducing stress and proper sleep can help in relieving different types of pain. Being physically active releases natural pain-relieving hormones like endorphins.

The effects of drugs and medicines

If your pain is not manageable with lifestyle changes, a pain specialist will suggest other options such as pain relievers. There are many kinds and levels of relief of pain. These include non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications for moderate pain, and narcotics like oxycodone or morphine to relieve more severe pain. Depression and anxiety may result due to chronic pain. In these cases, anti-depressants may be prescribed. Antidepressants can be beneficial when there is pain and nerve injury is suspected. At times, the physician might recommend corticosteroid injections. Corticosteroids help to reduce any inflammation that causes pain. Implanting a pain pump, or spinal cord stimulator could be suggested if the patient requires continuous administration of pain relieving medications such as for spine pain.

Therapies:

In addition to medication and other drugs, the physician may recommend physical therapy or exercise to relieve pain. Training, when combined with therapy, can increase range of motion, reduce inflammation, and enhance your mental and emotional wellbeing. Exercise stimulates the release naturally occurring pain relieving substances called endorphins within the body. The advantages of both therapy and exercise work synergistically together. They will help the body heal faster and ease pain faster than drugs or other treatment methods. To ensure you're physically fit to start exercising or engage in any new exercise, talk to your specialist in pain management.

Non-traditional methods:

Non-traditional methods for managing pain can be used to alleviate pain and relax the mind and the body. Their effectiveness will be determined by the degree of the pain. They include Relaxation through yoga or meditation, acupuncture, massage, therapeutic touch, herbal remedies as well as nutritional supplements. These alternative methods can reduce pain by inducing the release of pain-relieving hormones in the body.

TENS therapy: Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation (TENS) treatment:

The procedure involves sending low-voltage electrical impulses across the skin via electrodes. The body could feel relief from pain by triggering an electrical stimulation.

Takeaway

The most crucial aspect in pain management is pain assessment. The most frequent reason to see a physician is to treat pain. Pain management is an important aspect of treatment and is often referred to as "the fifth vital sign". The effects of pain can be protected by forcing us to rest on an injury or stop any activity that worsens it. The pain can be apprehensive and even debilitating. It can also be a major influence on your quality life.

[yanderenightmare]

dude I would kill for more DADDY DEKU, the last one gave me liffff, maybe like... "embarrassed to ask".... some anal?? plez and thank you Mizz Nightmare <3 I love all your work!

yandere dom ! MIDORIYA IZUKU

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: condescension, degradation, coercion, profanity, abuse, DUBCON/NONCON, yandere, manipulation, suggestive language, slight infantilization

BUNNYHOLE

She’d started to lose track of how much time passed during their session, forgotten what she’d done to get in the position she was in, forgotten what it was Deku felt the need to remind her of. Too much blood rushing to her head in her position of kneeling over his chest, her ass arched up and her face pushed down, cheek resting on his pelvis, running her tongue up and down the length of his cock nuzzling in her small palm, lips locked and sucking on the pulsating veins bulging from his erection. Or perhaps it was her way of forgetting where she was, her way of escaping, becoming numb to spare herself the humiliation, the frustration, the hopelessness and desperation of being subjugated, of being taken against her will, where becoming mindless was her only option when being in the hands of the madman.

Deku’s larger than life hands held onto her hips, held her in place, stroking the dome of her ass affectionately yet wantonly every now and again as his mouth swallowed down on the juices starting to spill drizzly down her thighs. Fat fingers, lined with muscle, coming to delve ghostly over her folds, with his tongue prodding at her entrance. She’d managed to block most of his praising and coos out of mind, focusing on coming, yet now… having lost count of how many times she’d done so on his experience dedicated tongue, with her oversensitivity blaring and buzzing in her lower abdomen, gnarling and crying for it to stop, it was getting harder by the minute to forget where she was and who she was with when he was still so very intent on lapping at her sensitive heat with his thick tongue again and again and again.

And he knew it.

“Such a good Bunny.” He cooed, slurping at her opening, the stiff pinching scratching of the beard on his chin an extra factor of teasing friction on the lips of her pussy, the action sending vibrations to simmer through her and a moan to spur from where she was nuzzling on the hill of his hairy thigh, her mouth guzzling down on one of his balls, letting go with a wet pop to allow the noise to leave her throat unstrained. “Getting so wet for her Daddy.” 

His sloppy tongue continuously licked up the ravine presented to him, making its way farther up than usual, playing with the other unused, and preferably so, tight hole.

She made a jump, hopping further down on his lap, face buried in his ball-sack, yet was quickly pulled back by the strong hands on her hips, cheek thoroughly smeared with a glistening mix of saliva and precum and tears.

As though understating yet not caring about her distress, his hands comforted by messaging circles on her ass-cheeks, perhaps in an effort to keep her at bay as well. “Just play with Daddy’s cock while he plays with your cute little butt, okay Bunny?” She’d gotten so very used to instructions, so used to bending her own will. 

His tongue found its way back to prodding at the tight hole, pummeling his fatness inside, seemingly trying to pry her open. “But, Daddy-” She tried, still in an effort to scramble away from his ongoing attack.

He would not have her disobedience, that time had passed long ago. His fingers starting to carve their presence into her midriff, stifling her attempt of escape. “Play with Daddy’s cock, just like I taught you.” He was firm in his demand this time, yet the same whine of condescension, of whiny patronizing correction, was still so disgustingly present in his tone. The voice that made her want to rip her hair out and strangle him with it. 

Yet, she obeyed. Mouth proceeding to slobber over his massive cock, suckling on every inch of his girth, licking paths over every enhanced vein, making him groan and buck his hips into her face, letting her head disappear between his strong thighs, massive thighs that could snap her neck if she made the wrong move. 

“Good little Bunny.” He drawled before he too continued. 

Mewls and adorable small whines escaping her focus on pleasing his cock, as his tongue crammed into the tight space of her butthole. More tears gathered at her eye-sockets, falling onto his cock, making her taste her own despair on her tongue gargling on his balls. 

“Bunny’s so hungry… sucking on Daddy’s balls like candy-apples.” She felt like gagging, not out of reflex, but out of disgust and wholehearted cringe for his words, but wasn’t given much space to feel anything but anxiety for too long, what with his thumbs making to spread her ass-cheeks further apart. He was happy to see she stayed in place, yet not surprised as the marks on her hips were already blooming with defined raw redness, evidence of just how intolerable hesitation and especially disobeying hesitation was in his cruel eyes. “Good girl.” He praised, hammering the thickness of his tongue inside her tight ass, now with the new easy access.

One hand shifted from its position of spreading her ass, pointer running over the budding hole curiously. 

She felt her guts churn at the act, fear riding her body full with goosebumps. “Daddy?” She squeaked uncertainly, sucking in a breath, relenting from her sloppy activity between his legs, fingers curling into the bedsheets in a manner of bracing herself.

“You’ve such a pretty little butt.” He stated, where the amount of adoration was terrifyingly present in his calm and collected voice. 

His finger quit its tormenting haunting and she sighed a relieved sigh, wet slicked face falling back onto his glistening manhood, tongue making to lick up his girth yet again. 

“Does Bunny want one of Daddy’s fingers inside?” Her fear rushed back, causing her to go all light-headed while his tongue lapped at the bud again, wriggling over the ring of muscle, drawing circles on it, ignoring her growing anxiousness fully. “Hmm, I bet Bunny would love Daddy’s finger inside her little butt.” She’d gotten used to his suggestive language, knowing what was best for her, but still she couldn’t help but way her options, even though deep down knowing how if Deku wanted something from her pliable little body, he was sure to get it no matter the struggle and fight she put up. “Filling her up-” His musings were cut off, the little girl on top of him fighting ever so slightly to move further away from his antagonizing mouth, pleading with her face shoved into his cock.

“No, Daddy please, I don’t-” He didn’t like that, holding her back with his harsh grip, keeping her ass well arched and presented for him to ravage.

“To me it sounds like Bunny is begging to be punished.” He warned, still playing his games, still with his disgusting tone masking the true sentiment of his words. “Do you want Daddy to punish you, Bunny?” One hand stroked over the plump flesh of her ass, threatening to strike the unprotected skin again and again until she complied with his wishes. She knew from experience she didn't  handle the pain well, always folding.

She backed down, better now than later with blooming bruises and a discomfort to sit for a week. “No, Daddy please, I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” She scurried back, scared into position, promptly sloshing over his cock with newfound devotion, moaning happily with his precum smeared on her face, anything to spare her from what cold hell he would show her if she didn’t.

He smiled, kissing the doughy flesh of her ass-cheek, welcoming her back. “Well then… tell Daddy how much you’d love his finger in your butt.” Hand returning. “Come on, don’t be shy.” Stroking over the bud of firm flesh, letting her feel the size of his fat finger, begging her to disobey him, begging her to cry and plead or to sob and force herself to obey his commands.

She chose the latter, knowing what other harsh torture awaited her was she not to comply like a good little girl. “Please, Daddy, please finger my ass.” He hummed contently in response, poking the hole ever so slightly, his fingertip sliding in the wetness of his drool. “I want your finger in my ass so badly, Daddy.” She whined, just like she knew he liked, wiggling her ass at him impatiently like the entitled brat he wanted her to be only for him to correct and humiliate.

“Bunny wants a finger up her little butt?” He spoke hurriedly in the spiked frenzied rush of her words, having them slur in drool as he kissed the hole sloppily, lightly biting the flesh of her one ass-cheek, again to scare her into playing the game.

“Yes please, Daddy.” She suckled on his girth desperately, letting false moans pass her lips as though she couldn’t get enough of his cock choking her throat. Playing the game, playing her part, surviving.

“This little butt right here?” He questioned, tongue flicking over the hole.

“Yes, Daddy please!” She started grinding her hips back into his mouth, knowing her enthusiasm is what his anticipation beckoned.

“Well, if you’re a good Bunny and play with Daddy’s cock then I’ll give this butt what it needs.” He needed her devotion, he needed her to understand just how under his thumb she was, he needed his ego satiated, his cruel sinister sadism fed.

“Thank you, Daddy…” She sobbed, fearing while knowing what he’d do if she were to disobey, resulting to dragging her tongue up and down his cock, hands working the base as she sucked, head bobbing up and down as she made cute little glugging sounds that had his stomach fluttering in utter bliss. “I love your cock, Daddy.” So sweet, just like he trained her.

He hummed at how precious she was, feeling somewhat proud of himself for having brought that out of her. “What do you love about it, Bunny?” His words pushed, but it wasn’t the only thing that was tormenting her. His tongue, burning and wet and forceful, dug into her backside, worming its way into her little hole as she tried her best, fighting with every nerve of her being, fear motivating her to stay perfectly still, though not managing to stifle the whimper.

Her breaths were shaky as she spoke to answer him before he grew impatient. “Daddy’s cock is so perfect and big, feels so good inside me.” He didn’t seem to care that she spoke with a cry in her voice.

His hand, having had rested on her ass as a warning, swung under, calloused textured rough fingers rubbed the bead of her clit, making her moan through her cries onto his cock. She was happy her position didn’t allow her to see his smirk. “I think Bunny thinks Daddy’s cock is scary, hmm?” His finger swirled, sandpaper-fingertip dragging over the sensitive swollen pearl again and again with little regard to how her stomach was curling. “A little intimidating, perhaps?” She rested her head on his thigh, her own thighs shaking, though his other hand kept her steady as his mouth sucked on her tender ring of muscle. “But Daddy’s a hero, Daddy would never hurt you, Bunny. Daddy loves you. You understand that, don’t you?” He asked, knowing damn well her answer would be scattered with how ruthless he was being with his fingers in her clit, abusing what power they had to make her bow.

“I love-ve you too, Da- daddy…” She drooled and sobbed out on his lap, wanting so badly to wind her thighs shut, protect what was about to burst, eyes closing and fluttering as her one hand dug fingernails into where they held her steady in the thick stiff muscles of his thighs, her other hand holding his cock, trying her best to guide him into her mouth so she could do as he demanded and save herself being scolded for not listening even though he was the one making it almost impossible to do much of anything except lie there and take it.

He stuck one finger, on long thick finger, into her sopping wet folds, felt her writhe before she could control herself, another finger still held firmly on her clit, drawing careful patterns he knew would make her mewl. “Daddy knows exactly how to please his little girl… and Bunny knows exactly how to please her Daddy, doesn’t she?” He asked rhetorically, words still carrying even though they were muffled into her ass. “I taught you so well.” His finger pumped, curling, scraping, hooking up into her spongey walls, making her mew. “Do you think Daddy’s a good teacher?” She could feel the curl of his salacious smirk as his teeth grazed past the lips of her pussy, tongue flicking, zig-zagging through the wet tender folds.

“The b- best.” She strained, inching further back as he was dragging, hauling her with his finger clawing at her insides.

“Good girl…” He purred, licking up and up until he met with the bud that now seemed to pulsate, her fear so endearingly on display for him. “I think Bunny deserves her prize.” His voice lowered, and she sucked in a breath with caught in her throat as she felt his hand, scathed and scarred and strangely rough and angled with how many times he’d broken his fingers.

He gave her much time to prepare, finger swirling circles onto the hole before dipping the tip inside. She scrunched her eyes shut at the feel of the tight skin of her hole stretching, forced apart to accommodate for Deku’s fat finger. The tight ring feeling as though ripping at the intrusion, tearing as he drove the digit slowly inside, a digit that seemed foreverlasting, growing thicker the more it inched inside her, until he was finally knuckle-deep.

She sucked with fervor now, in a way to pacify herself, gobbling down on his cock gluttonously. “Does it feel good, Bunny?” He asked, voice like honey so sweet it was burning. “My finger in your cute little butt?” He whined and mocked as he wiggled the length inside her, churning her guts in the prosses, earning small cries of discomfort from her slobbering on his cock.

“Yes, Daddy.” It was barely audible as she whimpered it into his thigh.

“Speak up.” He ordered, stern and stoic voice, still with his finger pumped and prompted into her tight ass, with the other hand’s fingers rubbing circles and pinching her swollen clit between them.

“Yes, Daddy.” Her back sloped as she tipped her head up. “I’m sorry.” Her one hand steadying her, placed in support on his thigh as the other tugged on his cock, fingers not managing to enclose around his girth as she messaged his length in long tentative strokes. “Thank you, Daddy, you feel so good.” She wasn’t exactly lying, and it was clear by the slick dripping that coated her thighs.

“Are you proud to have Daddy’s finger in your ass?” He asked, making her scrunch her brows, strangling herself with how hard she was trying to keep from crying. “You should be.” She cursed her existence, wishing she could take back whatever it was that had his eyes locked on her in the first place, whatever had him kidnapping her only to torment and use her as some slave. “To have Daddy’s number one hero finger pleasing your little quirkless butt.” And there it was, the reminder of how crucially inferior she was, such a perfect quirkless toy to feed his superiority-complex. “Tell me how grateful you are, Bunny.”

This was her life. Subjugated to a mere ragdoll for someone who’d do whatever the fuck they wanted to her, a life of belonging to someone, a life of a pet. “I love you so much, Daddy…” He groaned at her words, yet his fingers dug even harder into her hips. “You take such good care of me.” She just needed to tell him what he wanted to hear. “I’m hopeless without you. Thank you, Daddy.” Seems she did a good job, because he was shifting beneath her, hands letting her go for a second only to pull her into the new desired position.

“Come here, turn around.” He ordered, still in his frenzy, turning her around on his lap, making her sit with his cock smearing drool and precum over her stomach, hot against her skin where it bobbed up between the two of them. His hand and fingers glossy with juices from her pussy, came to grab her chin, cupping her cheek to still her as he pushed his lips onto her face, kissing her with hunger, as though in a hurry, his finger finding her ass again, sinking knuckle-deep inside her once again while grabbing onto the soft doughy flesh of ass, making her yelp against his lips, before he parted once more, a string of spit connecting them. “Does Bunny want Daddy’s cock inside her ass?” He mushed her face between his rough finger-pads, her lips puckered like a fish at him, eyes glossy with tearful plead, her thighs beginning to quake against him as she sat uncomfortably with his finger spearing her in the wrong hole.

Her bottom lip quivered then, eyes wide and brimming. “No- please… Daddy.” She would at least try to sway his mind, bargain her way out of it.

His look hardened, cocking an eyebrow at her resistance. “Is Bunny disobeying Daddy?” His grip on her face was past painful now, bruising, nails marking their presence, close to breaching her skin.

“No, Daddy, please-” She started, scrambling for something to save her, trying to make his hold relent, but falling short of making any savory excuses, reduced to mere whimpering as she accepted a preferred compromise. “My pussy would feel so lonely without you filling me up…” His fingers detached, yet only barely, still holding her chin, still controlling, though looking fascinated by the turn of events, pleasured with his little pet openly submitting to him, all with that adorable sweet voice. “I want your big beautiful number one cock inside me, please, Daddy please, I want you in my pussy.” She pushed forward to brush her breasts against his chest, grinding up into him in the process, hands brazenly stroking his cock all on their own command, forehead pressed against his as she did her best to seem seductive, licking her lips and maintaining eye-contact even as his green orbs seemed crazed and fervent and so dangerously feral.

“Bunny wants to come on Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?” His tone was weirdly condescending, like he was talking to a toddler about getting ice-cream, and though she despised it with every fiber of her being, feeling like the tone itself was gasoline to a roaring raging fire, she did her best to swallow the smoke, knowing it would get her nowhere.

“Yes, Daddy. Pretty please.” She begged, and he wrapped his one hand around the small of her back, pushing her against his chest, his other hand still not having left, with its main finger inside her butt, doing small curious pumps into the tight flesh.

He licked the shell of her ear, a small chuckle coming out as huffs as his hand moved once again away from her back, to line his cock up with her still slick with spit clit, rubbing his cockhead over the bead before sliding it down to push open her sopping hole. “Can Bunny take Daddy in her cute little pussy with his finger inside her pretty ass? Yeah?” Tapping his thickness into her tightness while watching her nod in agreement, only slightly disappointed she didn’t repeat what she said once more, especially when it sounded so delicious dripping from her defeated lips. “Good girl, sit down on Daddy's cock.”

She eased down like she’d done for the past couple weeks, always surprised by just how thick he is, how stingingly and fearfully painful it is, always thinking it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she made it out to be previously though always proven wrong, thinking she ought to have stretched out to accommodate his size to a comfortable fit, yet not having achieved the pleasure still with how many times he’d ripped her apart.

“Hop on that dick little Bunny.” He whispered as she eased herself all the way down, cock fully sleeved inside her, feeling as she was about to burst, so full, so blown, yet he hadn’t any mercy left to spare. She felt his finger wiggle where it penetrated her backside entrance, how his cock and it messaged the wall that separated her two holes, feeling a new type of dangerous, giving her another worry even as the anxiety for what pain treading herself over his cock was already overwhelming enough on its own. “Come on, little Bunny, hands on my shoulders and jump.”

She hadn’t the mind to hold back the whimper, letting her seductive mask slip as the pain mingled pleasure demanded her attention more, hands unsteady as they gripped his shoulder, fingers running over those deep healed scars on his skin she’d gotten so used to tracing. She folded her feet over his legs, given her better balance as she began sliding him in and out slowly, at a pace she could hope to handle and hope was fast enough to please him and his beastly member.

He hummed, free hand coming up to toy with her breasts, grabbing it with those labor-knuckled fingers. “Such a happy little girl bouncing on Daddy’s cock…” He licked over his toothy-grin, salacious green eyes glistening with drunk toxic love-sick madness as he felt her tight suction on his manhood, gliding up and down, in and out, full and hollow. “What do you say?” He decided to tease, decided to make the hurt worse.

A soft whine left her and he couldn’t describe the sick bliss that fluttered in his chest because of it. “Thank you, Daddy.” She forced out yet again, her voice all shaken and adorable.

And still he felt the wanton desire to push. “For what, Bunny? Be specific.”

She knew the drill, what he wanted to hear, but that didn’t make it any easier to force from her throat, even harder to relent from seething the words through grit teeth where she knew such aggression wouldn’t be tolerated, because nothing but her complete and full submission would be tolerated by Deku. “Thank you, Daddy, for giving me your big beautiful number one cock.” What was funny was that it was in a sense still true, despite her hating every word of it, despite her cursing the sentence, the praise, the gratitude. It did feel good, behind the pain, behind her disgust, it felt good. What more, Deku was the number one hero, not just the strongest man alive, but intelligent, knowledgeable and ruthless too, where it really would be unwise to not feel grateful for having been chosen by him, where people should be grateful he even chooses to be a hero at all, when he could just as easily be a villain, or a bloody tyrant. She should be grateful that she was given the honor of being his. Her body sure knows how to show its humility, doing its best to please him, showing him just how appreciated and welcome his touches are with how undeniably wet her pussy gets each time, clenching around his shaft as it drills deep into her, filling her out, completing her, pushing into that spongey spot deep within her, making her stomach flip, toes curl, clit buzz with pleasure, shamefully come all over him.

He made a moan of awe, patronizing in its nature. “Are you gonna come for me? All over Daddy’s cock.” She wanted to scream, throw herself off his lap, slap him, claw and bite and kick, but instead she was doing exactly what he said. “A happy little Bunny stuffed with Daddy's cock and his finger up her bum.” He whined, hand having glided down from holding her chin in favor of wrapping around her throat, nose touching nose, emerald steel-eyes keenly watching her every move, feeling her clench around him, making him hiss with pleasure like a snake.

“Yes, Daddy please.” She never liked snakes. Her new life was made of snakes. Snakes taking the form of ropes, tying her down, chaining her up, snakes in her guts, swirling and coiling and tickling that strange pleasure that had treacherous venom drip onto the snake that penetrated her, his arms like snakes around her waist, thick constrictors holding her still, keeping her trapped for devouring.

“Beg for it.”

She sucked in a beaten breath, forcing her will to comply to his wishes, swallowing her pride, subduing the fighter in favor of having her fall on her own sword, instead of digging her own grave. “Daddy, please can I come on your cock?” One would think the human soul gets used to humiliation after some time, but the ball in her chest hadn’t softened no matter how many times she’d offered up her dignity, no matter how many times Deku had forced her to her knees. “You feel so good inside me, Daddy.” She mewed in gratitude, moaning as he hit the right spot again and again, making her go blind as she tried focusing on what sweet nothings she needed to say. “I wanna come for you so badly, Daddy please.” He gave her a kiss to her nose then, meant to be sweet even though it would have revolted her had she been in the right mind to feel anything but forcibly good, all sweet with chasing her release, riding him, jumping on his length like a good bunny should.

“Good Bunny.” He purred an she had not the mind to feel like cussing, only desperately waiting for him to allow her release. “You see? Things are so much easier when you do as you're told, when you do what Daddy tells you.” He bottomed out into her tight heat, filling her up to the hilt, felt her body spasm with half panic at how deep inside her he was and half pleasure with how dangerous it felt to have her cervix molded by the shape of his cock-head burying itself in the spongey spot. “Come on, come on Daddy’s cock, make Daddy feel good.” She couldn’t refuse, even if he’d told her to hold it, she couldn’t, couldn’t stop the lightning to shoot through her, pussy clenching around his cock like a death-grip, strangling his length, sucking on him, milking his shaft, unsure whether she wanted him to pull out or stay inside her warmth, but luckily that decision wasn’t up to her, all she needed to do was not forget her manners.

“Thank you, Daddy…” It dripped from her mouth like sweet-tasting poison, tongue dripping with thick drool as she panted and mewled with how he continued warming his cock inside her, trying to push further and deeper inside even though there was no more space to be filled, resulting to a deep thrusting that felt as though he was about to push through into her womb.

He kissed her cheek as she numbed down to a relaxed exhausted limp body in his arms. “You’re welcome, Bunny… but Daddy isn't finished with you yet.” She felt her stomach twist despite knowing how she wasn’t done until Deku shoots his thick cream and paints whatever part of her body he had the appetite for.

Pulled from her high by the knowledge of how it was a psychotic madman who had granted it, as she felt said green-haired man guide her to lay on her back. 

“There you go, Bunny… such a cute mess.” He licked his lips, where she only barely tried to scurry away from his hungry lips gaining on her sensitive raw orgasm-glossed sex. 

She whined when his tongue dragged up her slit to drink her juices, flicking over her tender swollen clit, hands in his hair, trying their best to refrain from yanking him away. 

“Oh, Bunny’s so sensitive… did Daddy make you feel too good.” She squirmed beneath him, convulsing as he teased with his tongue and his lips and the light grazing ghosting of his teeth. “Look at you… Daddy’s little Crybunny.” He snickered, smirking as he gorged himself beneath her legs, loving the whiny moans and whimpers she couldn’t hold back, and how her hands tried ever so sweetly to nudge him off, how she dug the balls of her feet into the mattress to try and shuffle away from his attack, but not allowed to go anywhere with his arms locked around her thighs, keeping her just where he wanted her, shivering beneath him and only seconds away from crying and begging him to stop. “Does the little Bunny need her pacifier?” He hummed in askance. “Don’t you move a muscle, Bunny, I have a treat for you...” 

He hopped off the bed with a speed that went unnoticed while she blinked to find him position behind her, hovering above her face, thick and fat and veined from hilt to tip, tidy shaven green-stubble above his strutting proud cock, a path of longer hairs trailing up to his belly-button and sprinkled into a pretty growth of chest-hair the higher up his chiseled abs it went. 

“Open up, Bunny.” He tapped the glossy mushroom-tip onto her lips, smearing what concoction of precum and juices had mingled together there. 

She did as commanded, parting her lips yet making sure to wrap her teeth, knowing how he didn’t appreciate being bitten either by accident or not, having little understanding to how hard it was to fit him in her mouth without letting her teeth graze his impressive girth. 

“Taste yourself.” He groaned. “Suck me clean, Bunny.” He lightly patted the side of her face, fingers drumming on her cheek, telling her to hollow them in and suck on him. “There you go.” He praised, watching her struggle not to gag as he began lightly fucking the back of her throat, pushing farther down, liking how her already tight tunnel began clenching around him, trying to hold back the coughs. “Be a good Bunny and swallow all of me.” 

Usually he’d enjoy the feel of her nose dipping into his pelvis, but now with her upside down, he could feel his balls being poked as they smothered her only remaining breathing option. Still, he took his time, knowing how she could take a few seconds without air, enjoying the look of his fat cock down her throat, his hand testing a daring stroke over her jugular, watching to see if she would convulse and gag and splutter out coughs like she did the first couple of times he ventured deep, yet was proud to see her stay in play with only a few panicked spams of her chest. He probed even further as he lightly pinched the outline of his shaft between his thumb and index-finger, listening to her begin to whine, a submissive little prayer to let her breathe again. 

“Good Bunny…” He pulled out, large hands cupping her cheeks, telling her to remain lying there as he bent over to kiss her spit-slicked lips, his hand reaching over to palm her breast while the other reached farther to rub rough patterns into her terribly oversensitive clit, making her gasp out a strangled uncontrolled moan into his receiving mouth. “Come on, one more time.” He straightened himself, taking the opportunity to push through her open-mouthed panting with his dripping cock. “Get me nice and wet for your little Bunny-butt…”

Her eyes shot open, hands flailing instead of holding onto his thighs. “No-” She tried protesting, as she lightly tapped at his firm muscled ass with the face of her palm, slapping to get her discomfort across.

“No, no, Bunny, do as you’re told, do what Daddy says.” Deku chastised, grabbing her bothersome hands by the wrist and holding them behind his back, feeling her try to recoil away, yet well-trained enough to not bite as his cock pushed down her throat again. “Be a good Bunny and suck on Daddy.” He rocked his hips slowly back and forth, jutting lightly into her mouth. “Just like Daddy taught you.” His voice remained sweetly stoic, like a teacher or a parent, made her want to throw up on him, yet knowing how he didn’t stop last time she did, he just kept fucking her skull, even with the bile and acidic liquid burning in her throat. “Wash out all those filthy protests.” She whimpered at how his hands tightened around her wrists, balls lightly clapping over the bridge of her nose, swinging into her face each time he pushed until his entire length was enclosed to the hilt. “Teach you some manners Bunny-girl.” 

Her eyes stung now, with the built-up tears that now flowed freely, dampening her hairline before dripping into the sheets. 

Deku moaned, releasing her hands, needing his own to reposition his toy in the new desired position. “Up on your knees.” He remained staining at the edge of the bed, helping his darling kneel. “Posture, Bunny.” He chastised. “Arch that ass up for Daddy.” 

His hand spread flat in the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her upper-body down into the sheets, gliding to enclose around the back of her neck to keep her still while the fingers of his other hand stroked chaffed fingertips up and down the tender lips of her pussy, diving between her folds to gather slick wetness he used to push into her sore hole, curling two digits into the spongey velvet walls, making her moan into the pillow she was forced against. 

“Stay.” He ordered, all his warmth leaving her as she remained clutching and balling up the fabric of the sheets in her tiny useless fists, keeping her ass presented in the air, waiting with eager horror for Deku to return. 

She heard him open a drawer, then click open a lid, the squirt of something she had an educated guess of what was, listened to the slick sounds of him messaging the liquid into his hands, before his heavy steps carried him back to his position behind her. 

“Look at this precious little bunny-hole.” His fingers felt slippery as they rubbed and palmed her ass-cheeks, left hand lifting the plump flesh on one side, whilst the other moved to slide up and down the ravine before hooking a finger inside the top tight little ring of muscle. “Bunny needs Daddy’s cock inside her little butt, doesn’t she?” He pushed it in with ease now with the lube covering his hands, preparing the tightness by pumping the digit in and out, tickling the unsuspecting nerves that had never been played with before, the feeling strange yet surprisingly pleasant as his finger scraped downward, rubbing against a spot that had her pussy gushing around nothing. “Bunny’s tight little butt is just begging to be filled with Daddy's cock isn’t it, Bunny?”

She wasn’t too sure anymore. “No…”

He stuck another finger in with the first one at her reply, making her whine out a wail, toes curling, her one leg thumping up and down into the mattress, trying to shake and crawl away but not allowed to go anywhere with his hand reaching to recover the position it held before, holding her down, pressured around the back of her neck. “Up until now Bunny has been enjoying herself, but this attitude… tch, tch, Bunny... perhaps she needs a little reminder of who she belongs to?” 

She whimpered at the feel of both his thick fingers gliding alongside each other in and out of her tight tender hole, as she clenched around them and around nothing where juices were dripping down her thighs. 

“And there is no punishment without a little pain.” 

He’d only been dipping his digits in halfway, and she realized this once he decided to go knuckle-deep inside her, making her jolt at the foreign feeling of something going inside, much deeper now. 

She was arching her back up like a cat, trying to hide her ass from his antagonizing hands. “What have I told you about posture, Bunny?” His hand let partially go of her neck to glide up her spine, resting on the small of her back. “Give Daddy your hands.” She hesitated, taking her time to breath, feeling his fingers sink in, making her knees tremble, before she listened and folded her arms behind her, again like he’d taught her. “Now, arch your little Bunny-butt up for me.” 

She took small shallow breaths as she readjusted her back into a slope again, knowing what was coming, however as she felt it, big and warm and slick and soft like velvet, riding up her drooling pussy, his fingers disappearing from playing with her hole to make room for what would soon take their place, something much bigger and much longer, both his hands grabbing each her wrists, but not before making a cross of her arms, perfectly immobile for him as he lined his aching eager cock up with her pulsating little hole, she couldn’t hold back.

“No, please, Daddy, I’ll be good.” She begged, trying to scramble away, but being to late as she was left simply sobbing into the mattress, unable to move to any other position without it hurting with how his hands had bent her arms behind her back, yet despite knowing this he still took it upon himself to raise his foot and place it down over the side of her face, stomping slightly on it as a warning to keep still. Her movement obliged, coming to a halt, though not able to contain the trembling. “Please…” She tried one last time, though knowing he had no mercy nor patience left to spare her.

“Don’t disobey Daddy.” He fit his cockhead into the dip of her back entrance again, lining up the attack. “Now Bunny, beg for Daddy to fill your little butt up.” She tried shaking her head beneath the pressure of his foot, feeling her heart in her throat, pouting and scrunching her eyes shut, sniffling so adorably, yet he couldn’t take any pity on her when this was a lesson she needed to learn. “I said beg.” He pulled her arms back, as she screamed with how her shoulder-blades were close to popping out, his foot mushing her face harder into the mattress.

“Pl- please Daddy… fill me u- up…” She blubbered, every inch of her quivering.

He quit his torture, leaving her to simply snivel. “Good girl.” And then he started pushing.

Big bulging mushroom head entering slowly as she whimpered, butthole seizing around it, swallowing it up. “You see, Bunny?” His movements stilled, letting her get used to the new feeling of having something so big fit in the firm taunt hole. “Your little butt is sucking on my cock like a lollipop.” 

He aimed a drop of spit at where he was cramming inside her, the cold wetness hitting her with surprise as she slightly jumped on her knees, bouncing in the soft sponge of the mattress, the movement inadvertently making his cock rock with shallow thrusts in and out of her, messaging her opening. 

He moaned at the cute gesture. “Bunny’s so eager to receive Daddy’s cock, isn’t she?” He slid farther in, making her moan as his cock dragged along the wall that separated from her pussy, making everything tighten up, her pussy feeling so empty, clenching on nothing at all, yet feeling his fat length in just the wrong place, teasing her, making her so unbelievably wet. “Tell Daddy how good it feels, Bunny.” He pulled out again, beginning a slow tempo of lolling halfway into her.

He looked to her face, flushed red and squished together beneath the sole and weight of his foot keeping her down, lips puckered and bloated, cheeks tear-stained, eyes sparkling as she mumbled on small bubbling purrs, unsure pleasure painting her face, looking like such an endearing hopeless mess as he squeezed into the tight fit of her perfect plump ass. “It feels good, Daddy.” She quavered, shaky breaths and small sniffles leaving her adorable expression.

He hummed in return, sinking just a little bit farther inside her, feeling her tense as he did, an open-mouthed whine leaving her, drool hanging like silver string from her lips. “I think Bunny can be more creative than that, can’t she?”

She knew better than to disobey, especially when he already had her in such a compromising postion, knowing he wasn’t far away from pushing all the way inside her still accommodating ass, make her scream and possibly bleed as he fucked her through yet another punishment. “Daddy’s cock feels so good. So good with your number one cock inside me. I love you, Daddy. I love Daddy’s cock. Thank you, Daddy.” She drooled out as sweetly as she could, which was sweeter than honey with how hard it was to breath in her position of being pushed into the pillow beneath her, body slunk with no way of getting up, a proper prayer-pose as Deku stuffed her even fuller, making her mew.

“That’s right…” He groaned, hips rocking slowly and carefully back and forth, opening her little butt with his thickness, messaging her insides, teasing all the sensitive provoked nerves, poking shallowly into the spot that usually had her coming were it not on the other side, in her other hole who was begging to be stimulated in a way that wasn’t half-way fulfilling and half-way terrifying. “And to think Bunny thought she didn’t want this. Daddy still hasn’t heard his apology…”

“You’re right, Daddy, I was wrong… I do want this…” Another moan was forced from her as he inched even further inside, pushing into uncharted and unsuspecting tender areas, making her bleat and sigh ever so sweetly, unable to do anything but lie there and feel every inch of him stuffing her full, taking his time enjoying her tight hole.

He moaned in awe at her words, nearly slobbering. “Daddy knows what’s best for you Bunny.” Another inch had her feeling even fuller, as though he was in her stomach. “Daddy knows what Bunny wants and needs.” He fucked with the added length for a short-lived while until pushing another full inch inside, having her whine out a moan, her ass shaking like a little tease, wiggling at him, her arms also trying ever so slightly on reflex to pull out of his grasp. “Daddy’s always right, Bunny only needs to please Daddy.” 

He started sinking in inch after inch, unbothered or perhaps coaxed by how she struggled now, opting to bottom out fully, have his balls squished against her glossy pussy, his cock completely enclosed by her tight spasming butt, grunting out a shuddering groan of potent pleasure while feeling her little futile struggles trying so desperately to make him stop or slow down as he filled her up completely. 

“You just need to listen… and obey.”

TIP-JAR

#yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere #yandere deku #yandere midoriya #yandere midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku #Midoriya #izuku midoriya #bnha midoriya #yandere izuku #yandere izuku midoriya #deku x reader #daddy deku #izuku x reader #izuku mydoria #Izuku #izuku midoria x reader

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader

[buttercupsfrocks]

Do you ever wonder what goes on in the mind of the average fatphobe, Tumblr? I do. I spend a lot of time going head to head with the blighters on Quora. Not in any hope of changing their mindset, obviously, because nothing short of a well aimed ice-pick is likely to do that. But perhaps I can change the mindset of a person like my younger self, who internalised their judgement as truth to her detriment, by showing them up for the irrational bullies they are. What can I say? It’s a hobby.

Seriously though, WTF is it these days with the endless accusations of “glamorising”, “promoting”,“normalising” – and even, on one occasion, “legitimizing” – obesity? Absolutely anything can trigger this response, from news that a high street clothing chain is slightly expanding its size range; to the use of plus-sized models to sell plus-sized clothes to plus-sized women; to featuring a fat runner making like a fat runner on the cover of Runner’s World. (Bad role model, incidentally, because fat). It’s all the Thin End of the Wedge for these pearl-clutching dipshits. And  make no mistake, they’re running scared. But from what exactly?

I used to think it was fear of having their favourite chew-toy prised out of their smack-talking jaws. For the last few decades hating on fat folk for our own good has been endemic in the west, but bit by bit, kickback is starting to inch into the mainstream. And if the majority ever starts to view us as human individuals rather than a faceless scourge, sizeism could become less acceptable, less defensible even, then before you know it, BOOM! it’s pick on someone your own size, sunshine. But while that may be a significant contributor to their unease, there are additional factors at play in these accusations of glorification and endorsement. For a kick off they’re a crock. We all know that droves of slim-to-average sized people aren’t declaring their intention to become as fat as possible, nor are fat people encouraging them to do so.

The fact is that weight neutrality and self-acceptance among fat individuals genuinely rattles our most vocal detractors, which is why they persistently misrepresent the Fat Acceptance movement and discredit Health At Every Size, despite it being a bona fide medically supported programme. It’s why, when faced with a fat person not actively engaged in trying to shrink their body their stock reaction is to yell, “glorifying obesity!” Their anxiety centres around what might happen if the belief that it’s not fat people’s bodies that need fixing but our toxic cultural climate, becomes more commonplace. Greater numbers of fat people speaking up – and, crucially, being listened to; the media our hater-base consumes perhaps taking a more liberal, weight-neutral stance in keeping with the changing times. More routine inclusion of people with fat bodies in fashion magazines; weight-blind casting for the big and small screens; fewer ‘Best And Worst Beach Body’ covers on the supermarket checkout rags. Possibly, (please God and over time), a cultural shift in the way the pursuit of optimum health is presented – no longer a moral obligation or even a universal possibility; simply a choice if that’s what floats your boat, no more or less moral than joining the local am-dram outfit, or collecting vintage snowglobes. But what would that mean for them?

It’s not just that the currency of hard won – or happenstantial – thinness is devalued if one type of body is no longer privileged over another. I’ve been around enough people with eating disorders and compulsive behaviours to recognise that the portion of society that fulminates at total strangers for opting out of a lifestyle they feel compelled to adhere to, is rife with both. Certainly many describe lives of extreme deprivation and Herculean self control. However liberating oneself from diet culture also takes tremendous strength of will and I suspect for all their censorious gum-flapping deep down they know that, and fear they mightn’t have the courage to free themselves from what seems to me an utterly joyless existence.

Just some thoughts currently swirling around in my head.

By the way, isn’t this a delightfully loud frock? It’s bamboo and soooo soft, and doesn’t appear to pill or fade or shrink or any other nasties. It’s the heaviest of the Taking Shape dresses I bought this year, and good for chillier days like today, with the addition of tights. It’s also capacious enough to layer beneath, so versatile as well as colourful.

#OOTD #fatshion #plus size style #Taking Shape #bold and bright #Sizeism #Fatphobia #glorifying obesity #got my ranty-pants on

[leoneslover]

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ❥

⊳ Now playing: my coming of age movie

TW: mentions of kidnapping (in a joking way dw)

— You sped up your pace, walking alone at three in the morning wasn’t necessarily one of your favorite activities.

You could feel a whole bunch of emotions bottling up in your chest as you made your way through the empty streets of your neighborhood. The anxiety of walking in the dark, the excitement for finally going on the night adventure that you always dreamed of, the fear of your parents finding out that you snuck out to meet up with a completely random stranger, the actual fear of said stranger being nothing like you thought he was. There was just so much going on in your head at the moment that made the whole thing ten times more intense than usual.

But before you could develop this feelings into overthinking mode, you noticed the lanky silhouette of the setter in the distance. You slowed your pace, nervously walking towards him. He was standing against a lamppost, one hand in his pocket and the other absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. As you got closer, you noticed two things. One, he dressed up a little bit for the occasion. And two, the warm light made nice highlights in his silver hair.

“Boo” you jumped into the light after silently walking up to him, making him actually jump in his place.

“Goddamit, don’t do that” he lightly laughed, clutching a hand to his chest.

“If I was a robber or something you’d be damned now” you pointed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, and if I was a kidnapper or something you’d be damned now too I think” he snorted, but quickly looked up to you with a nervous expression. “Sorry that wasn’t funny, it was kinda insensitive”.

“Yeah, and if I was a kidnapper or something you’d be damned now too I think” he snorted, but quickly looked up to you with a nervous expression. “Sorry that wasn’t funny, it was kinda insensitive”.

“Don’t worry it’s fine, it was kinda funny. Besides, I already told a friend of mine where I’m going, so if someone was to be damned, it’ll be you regardless” you brushed it off with a smile, laughing slightly as you walked a little bit more into the light so he could see you properly, “so anyways, hi”.

“Hi” he smiled, and you’d be lying if you said that your heart didn’t do a flip when he dedicated such a bright smile to you. “Have you thought were are going yet? Or are you one of those ‘let’s see where the path takes us~’ kinda person”.

You laughed, fixing your bag slightly. “Actually, I did thought of something... it’s kinda lame and simple but I couldn’t really think of some-“

“If you planned it then it’s not gonna be lame” he interrupted you with the same smile, sliding his phone into his pocket, “let’s go”.

You looked up at him for a second, slightly taken aback, but looked away quickly and started walking, him following right beside you. For once, you were actually glad for the lack of sunlight, since the dark seemed to hide your flustered expression. Turns out he was even cuter in person and close up, and if you add in his nice personality, great fashion choice (even at three in the morning), and actual funny jokes, it felt like you really hit the jackpot; even tho you barely knew him.

“You haven’t told me where are we going” he broke the silence.

“Oh, right” you tried not to sound startled, feeling your face heat up already. You cleared your throat, “well, I thought we could go to this store to buy some snacks and then go and chill out for a while at this spot I know”.

“Sounds pretty good” he nodded, approving. And you had to bite back a smile.

You walked in silence, side by side on the empty streets. And surprisingly, the silence wasn’t awkward at all. You shook your head, you barely knew him, yet there was something about him that made you feel at ease, like if you knew each other all your life. You frowned, remembering what an old relative of yours told you a while back about the time they met their soulmate. Why were you remembering that now? You shook your head again, and before you noticed, you were now standing outside the small convenience store that you already knew by heart from the amount of times you’ve been there with Tooru before.

“Here we are” you stood outside the door, hesitating to go in yet.

“Mhm” he nodded, giving a few steps forward to the store, but he stopped when he noticed you weren’t following, “you’re not coming?”.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just...” you took a deep breath, knowing that what you were about to say was stupid, “one of my friends works here and I’ve never really been here with anyone except for Toto... I mean, Tooru, and... I don’t know...”

He snorted, making you look at him. The bright light from the inside of the store gave his hair a really nice color. You blinked, weakly attempting to focus, specially since he was talking to you now.

“Well it’s not like you’re gonna introduce me to your parents or something” he walked until he was standing right in front of you, “we’re just gonna grab some snacks and go, c’mon”.

And before you noticed, he was grabbing your wrist and walking towards the store. His touch was soft, way too soft, specially since he was basically dragging you into the small building. The automatic doors slided open, and Suga pushed you both into the store before you had time to snatch your hand out of his.

Your alerted gaze immediately flew to the counter to your right, locking eyes with Makki, who looked up from his phone to see who dared to interrupt his peaceful late night shift. His gaze went from yours to your hands and then back to your eyes, his brows raising slightly and a small smirk curling up his lips. You shot him a menacing glare before snatching your wrist out of Suga’s grip, which he didn’t seem mind. And as you approached the back of the store to grab some drinks, you swore you could see him fighting back his laughter.

You grabbed a couple of drinks and a bunch of snacks, the only thing keeping the silence from being too awkward was the awful music choice in the background, courtesy of your best friend of course. You knew you were probably overreacting, I mean, its just Makki, he had seen you doing worse things than this, way worse than this. And even so, there was nothing wrong with what you were doing; you were just buying snacks with a pretty guy, that’s all. But at the same time, you knew him well. And as you walked towards the counter to pay, you realized that the reason you were so nervous wasn’t because of you and Suga, rather because you didn’t know what shitty awful joke your best friend could do or say at some point.

“Ahh, (y/n), what a pleasant surprise, visiting me at work” he smirked, not bothering to pick your stuff just yet, “are you gonna stay to keep me company?”.

“Shut up Makki” you pushed the snacks his way, wanting nothing more than for this to be over before your friend could embarrass you in any way.

“You’re such an awful friend” he faked being hurt, lazily picking up the bags to scan them, before directing his gaze towards your date, “You should ran away while you can man, she’s the worst I’m telling ya”.

“Makki!” You scolded him, eyeing Suga from the corner of your eye.

The setter, however, seemed to be enjoying the interaction way too much, snorting at Makki’s commentary and nodding.

“Thanks for the advice, I’ll keep it in mind” he carried on the joke, placing his hands in his pockets as Makki smirked approvingly.

“She’s probably making you pay right? That broke bitch” he said, ignoring you completely, “y’know what, since I pity you for having to put up with her, I’ll give you a discount and a little gift, how bout that?”.

“How nice of you man, thanks” He said, handing Makki the money as he threw your stuff in a plastic bag.

“No biggie, oh I’m Hanamaki by the way, but you can call me Makki” he introduced himself, turning around to pick something up from the shelf behind him.

“Sugawara, you can call me Suga” he said, picking up the bag and handing it to you as you stared, watching both boys in shock and slight annoyance.

“You’re from Karasuno right?” Makki asked, shuffling with some stuff from the shelf, adding without waiting for a response, “man your team is pretty good I’ll give you that, I thought we were gonna absolutely demolish you but no. Hehe, I’ve never seen Oikawa so pissed, it was so fucking funny, right (y/n)?”.

You opened your mouth to respond, finally giving you the chance to cut him off. But before anything could come out of your mouth, Makki turned back around, handing Suga a bunch of condoms of different sizes. Your eyes widened as you stared at your friend in utter shock.

“Here, I don’t know what size are you, and I don’t wanna know either, as well as I don’t want this bitch crying in a few weeks so” he brushed it off with a smirk, clearly enjoying himself.

Suga snorted, finding the situation rather amusing. Even tho you could feel yourself growing embarrassed at your friend’s actions.

“Thanks man, i appreciate it” the setter tried to hold back his laughter, grabbing the condoms and throwing them in the plastic bag that you were holding.

“Oh it’s nothing” your friend leaned back to sit on a chair behind him, “well you better get going, I don’t want to keep you from your awesome night so go, shoo”. He gestured you both to the doors.

“Fine fine, nice to meet you Makki” Suga grabbed you softly by the wrist again, guiding you to the exit of the shop.

“Nice to meet you too man, see ya” Makki waved from his seat, giggling to himself as Suga pushed you out of the shop.

It wasn’t until you were at the corner of the street that you finally realized what just happened and regained the ability to talk. You punched the setter lightly on his side, clearly annoyed.

“Why did you do that!?” You silently screamed, aware that it was late at night and you were on the streets, “You should have cut him off, or tell him to fuck off. Oh my god he’s such an idiot I’m gonna fucking kill him”.

Suga, however, finally stopped holding back his laughter. You turned to look at him, laughing his ass off at your reaction while you stared, annoyed. You could feel the corners of your mouth twitching, wanting to laugh as well, but you weren’t gonna give in that easy, it didn’t matter how contagious the setter’s laugh was, or how cute he looked gripping at his tummy to try to get a hold of himself as he absolutely lose it in the middle of the night. You were still annoyed at your friend, even tho he was nice enough to give you a discount at least.

“I- I’m sorry” Suga finally spoke, breathing heavily and still giggling to himself, “but it was too funny... your reaction”, another fit of laughter interrupted him.

“Whatever, let’s keep going in getting hungry” you brushed it off, smiling to yourself as you turned around, not waiting for him to catch up as you made your way through the night, thanking the poor lightning again for hiding your smile.

Soon enough you reached your destination. In a park not too far from your house, there was an average bridge that crossed over a small pond, but beneath it, there was a perfect dry spot right in between the bridge and the pond. Like a tiny coast that always remained dry and that both you and your friends kept relatively clean since Iwa found it a few years back.

“Nice” Suga commented as you sat down, throwing your bag next to you, “when did you find this?”.

“Iwa-chan found it a while back, when he was a kid I think” you commented, grabbing a drink from the plastic bag and opening it, “and Tooru brought me here once last year, he told he not to tell anyone and to use it wisely or sum, but I never really had anyone to bring here so I thought it was a little useless, well, until now”.

You laughed lightly, taking a sip from the drink. You didn’t miss how Suga pressed his mouth in a thin line at the mention of your best friend.

“You and Oikawa are pretty close, aren’t you?” He questioned, opening a bag of chips without looking at you.

“Well, yeah” you frowned lightly, “we’ve been friends for a while, and we’re almost neighbors so I’ve known him since, forever kinda”.

Suga nodded, offering you the bag to grab some snacks. A comfortable silence fell in between you two, and a tiny voice whispering the word soulmate came back in your mind, but once again you pushed it away, focusing on the moment. You put your drink down, grabbing the plastic bag and rummaging through it.

“Ugh, I told him to stop giving me these, they’re bad for the environment” You complained, gesturing the bag.

“Yeah, that’s why I always carry my stuff in my hands, or bring a tote bag or something” Suga commented, giving another sip to his drink.

“Man, tote bags are the fucking best” you said, but suddendly you fell silent. Your hands made contact with the bunch of condoms that your friend gave to you earlier, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you from head to toe again.

“Are you alright?” The setter noticed, a worried frown taking over his features.

“Yeah yeah, it’s nothing” you brushed it off, feeling the heat rise up in your face.

The rest of the night passed almost in a rush. Talking about everything and nothing at the same time, discussing about which was the best meme of the generation and later on debating about the afterlife. You found out that he enjoyed scaring his little brother with the horror movies he was obsessed with at the moment, even though it earned him a rant from his mom later on, he swore it was worth it. He found out that you had a weird addiction with Sanrio characters since you were a kid. You also found out that he had a very high tolerance to spicy food, specially since half of the snacks he picked up were spicy as hell.

And by the time you finished off your food and got out from beneath the bridge, you realized it was already around 6am, and the sun was rising up in the distance. Sharing a blanket that you brought with you to keep you from the cold blow of the early morning, you stood on top of the bridge, watching the sunrise in a complete comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by a bird chirping in the background.

Your eyelids were getting heavier from the all nighter, and you couldn’t help but rest your head on his shoulder, sighing as the golden light from the early sunlight bathed the scene with its warm tone. He smiled to himself, the tingling in his stomach growing stronger as he rested his head on top of yours, the sweet scent of your hair filling up his nostrils. He blushed lightly, thanking that you couldn’t really see him before he spoke.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home”.

And so he did. You walked side by side through the middle of the empty road, even though he insisted on walking on the sidewalk, he gave in since you said it ‘added to the experience’.

Your hands brushed against each other as you walked, but none of you dared to grab the other, the fact that you were sharing a blanket had both of you flustered enough already. And when you leaned your head into his shoulder again as you pointed at little funfacts about your neighbourhood, he had to physically restrain himself from kissing you right there and then.

“That’s Tooru’s house, and this is my house” you said sleepily, a yawn cutting you off.

“I like your house, it looks nice” he commented. You were both standing outside, none wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“I’ll offer you to stay and take a nap so you don’t have to walk back home just yet, but I don’t think my parents would like that too much” you laughed lightly and he snorted.

“Yeah, maybe one day...” he trailed off, sighing before sliding off the blanket from his shoulder, “well I better get going then, before my parents find out that I’m not home yet”.

“Yeah...” you trailed off, thinking for a second.

You slid the blanket off your shoulders as well, before placing it on his. He stared at you in mild shock, before you got on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for helping me build up my coming of age movie” you laughed lightly before pulling away and almost run to your front door, turning around to wave him off before getting into your house.

He waved back, smiling to himself. It was the second time you left him standing there, just blushing.

❥ Funfact!: When he got back home, Suga was so tired that he fell asleep wrapped up in (y/n)’s blanket without realizing.

Sugawara Kōshi x reader(fem!)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/n: Hiya there! Just wanted to let u know that I made a playlist for this smau that u can find here in case you’re interested!

❥ masterlist

-> taglist (closed!): @ratatostada @elianetsantana @broccoliandwheeze @bethbat @mariachiii @flrtykawas @bbyouamazin @depressed-garbitch @anejuuuuoy @angrylittleriri @shizukusimp @nataliahaslosthershit @maramalademadara @hoekyu69 @sunflowerirl @imtheseventhchicken @cremeandstrawberries @koutaropearl @heavenini @lovinnoya @aristatrois @melodynee @ohbois-biggay-bnha @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @memes-and-money @pagetcult @mermaidcookiemagic @murdereddaydreams @sunnysidekisses @h0rny-m3ss @missalienqueen @crazyrichashea @purple-passionfruit @darlingkuroo @aizawaslovebot @london-quynh @rkives-keiji @crybabbicus @sinistersith @navymacaroons (bold if I couldn’t tag you, please check your settings!)

#[💌]— selfless! #sugawara smau

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere Chrollo x Reader NSFW Headcanons [COMM]

Chrollo:

Chrollo will always bring with him an element of surprise. His encounters with you bring new possibilities every time, never one to fall into a familiar rhythm with. There are times where he’ll whisk you away to the name of some place you’ve never heard of, or he’ll bring you an exotic gift that’s one of a kind. You always look forward to seeing what he has in store for you. 

But he also has a more personal side, where he would rather tailor his gifts more to your specific liking. While surprising you with rare treasures of immeasurable value is always enjoyable, he also wants to show that he pays attention to your likes and interests. Which prompts him to offer you more personalized gifts that he knows you’ll use

One of the times he came to visit you, he prepared what he thought you might find to be a thoughtful gift. Since you use technology often he got you high quality noise canceling earphones, having it wrapped and placed on your shared bed for you to open.

When you find the gift you can’t help but feel excited and curious, wondering what could be inside. Anything from Chrollo would be valued in your eyes, knowing that he took the time to get it for you. He watches with a knowing smile as you unwrap your latest gift, carefully observing your reaction.

As usual you’re ecstatic for the gift he got you, thanking him profusely and giving him a hug. He never would admit it but there’s a warm, foreign feeling in his chest from your gracious words. Chrollo already figures this is how you’d react, but experiencing it is nicer than imagining it. 

Wanting to make sure that they fit you well, he prompts you to put them on for him. Chrollo’s guess for your size was correct, the style being one he would like to see you on you. Chrollo compliments your appearance, the sight of you in a gift sating his desire to mark you as his. H

Chrollo loves gifting you accessories or clothes that fit his specific aesthetic, typically neutral colors on the darker side. If your fashion sense is different than that he’ll still occasionally get you something that fits your style more, but he always has a soft spot for you wearing what he picks out.

His appreciation for how it looks on you may appear subtle at first, but he’s someone that has intent behind all of his actions. He’ll start by softly ghosting his hand over your skin, whispering a compliment into your ear from behind you. Goosebumps will line your skin as he does so, before he teasingly walks away like nothing happened. He wants to leave you full of longing, after all. 

The rest of the night goes on as it usually does, Chrollo settling down to read on your couch and you enjoying your new headphones. Had you been paying close attention you may have been able to pick up on how Chrollo’s eyes shift to you occasionally, his attention on his book waning as time goes on. Seeing you happily humming away and having fun really did something to him that he couldn’t put his finger on. 

It all has a pleasant, domestic feeling to him. While he never thought he’d be the type, he couldn’t help but think that even in quiet moments he enjoys your presence. His thoughts start to venture elsewhere, however, when he notices your sleeves had started slipping down. 

You were wearing one of his shirts, one that’s far too large for you. When he inquired about it in the past you bashfully murmured something about liking his scent. But seeing you in it now, your thighs revealed and bare, along with your collarbones... it was growing too tempting to resist any longer. He quietly shuts his book, thinking of what it is exactly he wants to do. 

It doesn’t take much for him to sneak up on you normally, being able to conceal his footsteps without any effort. But with your entire ability to hear being deprived it makes it all the easier. Chrollo feigns going to get something elsewhere in your place, so you don’t think much of his disappearance.

When he comes back he sneaks up on you, watching you listen to your music entirely oblivious to his nefarious intent. Chrollo scoops you up with ease, an amused chuckle leaving his lips at the surprise noise you let out from his sudden action. Before you can nudge your earphones off, Chrollo stops your actions with a shake of his head.

Confused but not willing to disobey, you follow with what he’s silently asking of you. He gently places you on your shared bed, drinking in your vulnerable position and flustered mannerisms. He pauses to allow you to settle, chastising you every time you attempt to take off your headphones. He makes it evident that they’re staying own throughout this. 

Sensory deprivation was never something you’ve done with Chrollo, you were unaware of his newfound interest in playing around with it. You still accept your fate, shivering at the thought of what Chrollo wants to do with you. 

He’s always teasing whenever you’re together, but this takes away a huge element of your control. All you’re capable of hearing is your own rapidly beating heart, your face warming as Chrollo crawls over to you. He gently presses you down, taking your lips in an eager kiss that grows more heated at times goes on.

His hands go to your shirt, fingers working to take it off without wasting anymore time. Once revealing your bare chest, Chrollo massages it with fervor you normally wouldn’t associate with him. All the while looking at you with a knowing smile, watching as you unravel in front of him.

Every aspect of your body has been memorized with a strict attention to detail. All of your preferences and reactions cataloged in his mind, allowing him to reduce you to a moaning state whenever he so desires. This time is no different, as he leans forward to mark the sensitive areas of your exposed skin.

Pulling back momentarily, he watches as you stare at him in confusion. Before activating his Hatsu, his book appearing in hand. There’s already a stolen ability he had in mind for whenever he wanted to do something like this, and he plans on using it to his advantage. You feel your wrists being pulled above your head, the sensation of rope materializing against your skin making you shiver.

“You can’t hear me, but,” Chrollo begins, watching with a pleased gleam in his eye as your arms are bound above your head. “It won’t cause you any harm. Although I doubt this was the intention behind this ability… It’ll still work.”

After taking another moment to drink in your appearance, Chrollo returns to his previous ministrations. Alternating between teasingly running his hands over your thigh, and brushing it over your core. He would comment about how wet you are for him, feeling as if you could tell what he was saying just from his lips.

Eventually he would give into your pleading whines to offer you more friction. He does take a while to soak in your moans of his name, always having enough patient to take his time. But when there are tears in the corner of your eyes he’ll finally give you what you want. If he was feeling crueler he would make you wait even longer, but you were too precious to constantly deny. 

It feels strange to not hear anything but your own heavy breathing and heartbeat. At the same time you can focus only on what Chrollo is doing to you, you’re incapable of thinking about anything but him and his touch. What felt uncomfortable at first isn’t all that bad, anxiety melting away into pleasure and lust. 

Chrollo always had an appreciation for watching your facial expressions. As embarrassing as it might feel, he’d stop his movements if you ever looked away for too long or closed your eyes. So you have no choice but to return his gaze or never experience release.

It feels so good, but every time you grind against Chrollo’s hands he slows down. Smiling at the whines you let out in response, you know he won’t let you come as fast as you want to. Chrollo’s patience is a blessing and a curse, but in these situations it always feels like a curse. He always slows down when you need him to go faster, taking in your needy actions. 

Eventually he removes his shirt, which is always a sight you love to see. It’s impossible to not stare at his defined chest. At least with these earphones on you don’t have to hear his relentless teasing of how much you must like him. As if you need to be reminded. 

After rubbing your clit for long enough, Chrollo notices your panties are soaked. He’s pleased to see you’re wearing a pair that he had bought you a while ago, a lacy black pair with floral accents. It’s one of his favorites to see against your skin. But while Chrollo loves how it looks, he’s more interested in what’s underneath. 

You can see his member straining against his own boxers, showing proof of what you did to him. He’s able to cover his reactions and control his facial expressions better than you, but from his touches getting rougher you know what he wants. He’s only human after all, he can’t hide all of his desire. 

For good measure, Chrollo slowly places his middle and pointer finger into you. Sharply inhaling at the new sensation inside of you, Chrollo eases his fingers in and out of you with ease. Seeing you’re ready enough for him, he removes his digits and expects them with amusement.

You see his lips moving but you don’t know what he’s saying. Eventually he cocks an eyebrow, before holding his fingers in front of your mouth. Holding your gaze he tells you to suck. Finally understanding what he was telling you, you hesitantly open your mouth; face on fire.

Chrollo is always pleased with your eager obedience, and he allows you to clean his fingers. He removes his fingers after a minute or so, a small pleased hum leaving his lips. He removes his boxers before lining himself at your entrance.

He bites his lip while entering you, taking in the sensation of you around him. Chrollo places a firm grip on your waist, and you can’t help but think of the bruises it would most likely leave later. Setting a steady pace, he leans forward to leave more marks against your neck.

Your own release feels so close, and by how Chrollo’s thrusts are getting sloppier you know he is as well. Low grunts leave his lips, eyes glazed over with lust at the sight of you. You look perfect to him like this, vulnerable and entirely submissive to him and his desires. Chrollo wants to give you a reward for being so good for him. 

He knows you well, his touches growing more fervent. Slipping his fingers to your clit, he sloppily rubs circles until you throw your head back with a needy whine. Meeting his every thrust with your hips, you finally feel the coil snap within you. Riding out your high, you see Chrollo chasing his own.

Feeling like a complete, tired mess, you look at Chrollo through your eyelashes. He pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times; before cumming on your bare thigh with a low moan. He takes a moment to compose himself, before removing your restraints and taking your headphones off.

Chrollo can’t help but laugh at your current state, putting a stray strand of hair behind your ear with affection. You instinctively go to cover your chest, blushing, noting the soreness that’s already settling in. Gathering yourself for a moment, you watch as he dresses himself once more. 

“So I take it you liked your gift?”

“... Just a bit.”

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo imagine #yandere imagine #HunterXHunter #Hunter X Hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagine #my stuff #hxh #yandere hxh #hxh imagine #not sfw

[gwynposting]

All Along the Watchtower (Ch. 3)

This story takes place after the “All Along the Watchtower” ending of Cyberpunk 2077, so spoilers ahead.

NSFW chapter ahead~

AO3 Link | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

Panam was never one for being able to hide her emotions, and the attempted smile betrayed by the rest of her cringing features gave testament to it. Cassidy, on the other hand, looked upon V with amusement. 

“Yeah, uh,” V started with an awkward cough, “guess the rockerboy part of Johnny didn’t overwrite my brain yet.” She stared down at Cassidy’s borrowed guitar with a tinge of blush on her cheeks before handing it back to him. 

“Well anytime you want to start learnin’, give me a holler,” Cassidy said with amusement as he set the guitar in his lap and plucked away at an idling tune. 

V smiled in appreciation and turned to Panam, “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow anyhow?”

Panam leaned forward, the fire in her eyes sparking. “We’re meeting up with a contact of ours that’s worked with us and other Aldecado families in the past - Bryce Bane. We’ve used Bryce as our point of contact for operations in the Tucson area in the past - we figure it’s a good idea to help get general intel as well as see how we can help solve your problem.”

V nodded along, “And we can trust this Bryce?” 

Panam scoffed, “Could you trust Rogue?” 

V grimaced in recognition. “Only after convincing her a 50 year old terrorist from her glory days was trapped inside my head.”

“So unless you got another cyberpsycho inside your noggin’, I wouldn’t get too friendly with them.” Panam could see the disappointment creep along V’s face - she was rather decent at hiding it, but the subtle quiver of the lip always gave her away. “But,” she resumed, “with all the gear we’ve gotten from the Arasaka raid, it’d be hard to say no to a fresh load of biz coming their way.” 

“Right…” V hesitated. “Okay. So - who, when, and where?”

Cassidy let out a chortle, “Mitch wasn’t kiddin’ about you city slickers.”

V smirked, giving her forehead a few taps, “I blame the ticking time bomb in my head.” 

Panam broke in, “We’re due to meet them around noon, on the western side of the city outskirts. Now, I don’t have reason to suspect they’ll pull anything, but it never hurts to come prepared. V, you’ll be accompanying me to the meet while Cassidy, Mitch, and Carol provide overwatch.”

“All eggs in one basket, hmm?” Carol interjected, sizing up the roster for this mission.

“More like this is our first meet with this city and I need to make sure we get off on the right foot. And that means no itchy or jumpy triggers. I know I can count on the vets for that.” Panam looked around the table to mixed reactions. “With that being said,” she continued, “I want to perform some reconnaissance of the area so we can set up 3 separate areas of vision around the meeting place. That means we’ll be setting out early tomorrow - around sunrise - to set up. 

“Mitch, V?” she gestured towards each respectively, “You two are going to drive out today and use the drone to do some recon. Note the terrain in the area and try to find overlooks that give a good view of the entire meeting sight as well as any paths to the area.”

V and Mitch made eye contact and nodded in agreement. “We’ll set out right away then,” Mitch said.

Panam smiled and nodded in affirmation, “Excellent. We’ll reconvene later tonight when you two return and go over the finer details.”

“Preem. Anything else?” V asked.

Panam shook her head, “Nope, that’s it. Just lemme know when you two get to the site.”

“Yes, mom,” V smirked, and Mitch failed to suppress his own smile. Panam shot her a deadpan look of annoyance. 

Mitch and V broke off and made their way over to the mechanics station. The Aldecados had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse of some sort - its floor had been picked clean so there hadn’t been much cleanup required at all. But now, it housed the mighty Basilisk, along with the plethora of other vehicle repair necessities.

Mitch pointed to one of the corners, “Drone case is over there. I’ll grab a couple battery cases just in case.”

“What for?” V asked.

“Well, never know if we might need to use the active camo when we get there. And if we do, I’d rather we be able to get a full scan of the area. Not cut corners, y’know?”

“Good thinking,” V said with a huff as she lifted the hefty clamshell in her arms.

Mitch made his way back over, battery packs slung around his shoulder, and together they set off to their ride. 

“How well do you know this Bryce?” V asked.

“As well as you know any fixer in Night City, really.” Mitch responded with a gruff. He was set to leave it at that, but looked over to V’s expectant face. “We didn’t have a particularly contentious past, it’s just been quite a while, and well... we’re runnin’ blind right now. A lot can change in 3 years.” 

V felt the gnawing of doubt creep back into her mind, despite her best efforts to keep it suppressed. The last thing she needed right now was to fall into despair before they even tried their first option. But even the existence of those lingering thoughts sent worry through her, every setback felt so severe and her mental health so weak, like fractured porcelain held in place by glue. A vace drifting through the air in slow motion, desperate for someone to catch her before she reaches the harsh and unyielding floor below.

Mitch seemed to be able to read the apprehension of V’s face, “But hey, we worked with some great techies back in Tucson. If they don’t know what to do, then they sure know someone who will.” 

A shaky smile formed on her face, but hopeful words did little to soothe her anxiety. But she didn’t have much time to ruminate over her thoughts as they pulled up to Mitch’s ride. They took turns loading their equipment onto the bed before climbing inside the cabin.

“Alright then, let’s get this started,” Mitch stated with finality. 

** 

V slung the canteen over her shoulder and let it rattle to the floor with a clank. She whinged at the sharp sound but was far too tired to react. It felt as if her entire body had a layer of dirt, like a second layer of skin. Yet all in all, it had been a very uneventful day, and she liked it that way. Though, she couldn’t say the same thing for tomorrow, whatever that would hold. V had been used to working with fixers in the past, but this time it was different. She wasn’t some solo anymore, money and fame the only thing on the mind. She was part of a family once more, her clan. When things went wrong, everybody had to suffer the consequences for it, whether physical or emotional. She had everyone else to think about. She had - 

Judy. V smiled as she saw the soft hue of blue light bleed through the cracks of the garage door. She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, pausing as she flexed and stretched her stiff limbs. In a similar fashion she shuffled off the boots from her feet.

V made her way over to the garage to poke her head in, but stayed silent as she saw Judy sitting in her desk chair, BD wreath wrapped around her head. But something caught V’s eye - many things, really. Judy’s hands clenched the armrests of her editing chair, her thighs pressed together as her legs writhed small motions back and forth. Her chest rose up and down with deep breaths, and the skin visible from the cut of her shirt was painted a deep blush.

V was about to raise an eyebrow in concern, but was interrupted by a soft mew that escaped Judy’s lips, followed by a much lower moan. V chuckled in response, Couldn’t wait for me it seems, she thought to herself. Deciding it wasn’t the best for her to interrupt Judy’s alone time while filthy, V made her way to the bathroom to wash away what she imagined were kilograms of sand and dirt from her body.

Of the few comforts she had gotten used to in Night City, hot water would have been one of the highest. The Bakkers had raised her through the traditional nomad lifestyle, but clearly she had softened up in a few ways. Shivers shot down her back as the cold water began rushing over her body, washing away the caked dirt and leaving goosebumps behind. 

V was meticulous when it came to cleaning, especially with her cybernetic implants. She gave extra care to clean the creases and ports of her mantis blades. She had never had a problem with them so far, and she planned to keep it that way. It had been a recurring fear of hers that some mechanism would fail her when she needed them most - whether they failed to open properly, or extended on their own without command. In those moments she could almost hear Panam rage at her tombstone for being stupid enough to let something like routine maintenance lead to her downfall.

Just as she finished rinsing the suds from her hair, she heard the bathroom door open and close. She turned her head to see Judy rolling her panties down her legs, bra already discarded on the floor. Without a word, Judy climbed inside and pressed V against the shower wall, capturing her lips with her own. Her hands betrayed her neediness as they traveled along V’s skin and down to her ass, roughly taking hold of each cheek. V yelped in surprise at the onslaught, but quickly gave in. V’s hands, momentarily idle, found new life as they began to roam up along Judy’s curves, coming to rest upon her cheeks. 

Judy paused and broke away, leaving both of them panting for breath. They looked into each others’ eyes, lidded and wanting. “Didn’t hear you come home,” Judy breathed.

“Didn’t want to interrupt your fun,” V smirked, “plus, I felt gross.” 

Judy’s hands began shifting, creeping around V’s front, “Probably woulda jumped your bones anyways.” 

V’s response was cut short by her own sharp exhale as Judy ran a hand along her hardening shaft. Judy bit her own lip in smug satisfaction as she felt V’s desire manifest within her grasp, before leaning back in, breathing warmth on chilled skin, and taking V’s lip between her teeth. The two came together once more as their lips interlocked, broken apart only through momentary calls for air or teasing bites. Judy’s hand began tender strokes, back and forth, along V’s length. Judy couldn’t help the butterflies that poured through her as she felt V’s hips begin to thrust ever so slightly - signs of a woman too pent up for her own good.

But Judy also felt that need, and it was quickly tended to. V’s curious hands traveled downwards until they reached Judy’s waiting sex. Her fingers teased along Judy’s entrance, lightly brushing over her clitoris. Judy flexed under her touch, her thirst finally given life. But V, not one to tease at the moment, deftly inserted two fingers and began to give slow, languid thrusts. A flare of pride rushed through V as Judy began to push into her grasp, grinding her clit against the palm of V’s hand. 

Each needy thrust and flex spurred the other on, as they fed off each other's need and want, pressing into each other, grasping, thrusting, their pace increasing with every shaky breath. Their kiss became sloppy and unfocused, disrupted through their descent into pleasure. The drone of the shower head and the cool of the pouring water faded into the back of their minds - all that mattered was their touch. 

Judy hovered over V’s lips, to whisper, “V-” as if but a gasp. V closed the distance once more and captured Judy’s lips as she came undone beneath her. Shivers radiated through Judy’s body as V’s fingers coaxed her through her orgasm. V’s free hand brought Judy closer, pressing her against V’s body for support as she came. Judy broke their kiss and slumped her head into the crook of V’s neck, her moans becoming muffled. 

But her comedown didn’t slow Judy’s pace - if anything, it increased her fervor. As she regained her footing, Judy changed tactics. Instead, she focused along V’s erogenous zones, kissing and leaving love marks along V’s jaw and neck to below her ear, stroking to the tune of the heady thrusts that met her hand. 

V was holding on, prolonging her suffering, until she heard Judy plead, “Please V -” and she came undone. With each stroke V shivered, her hips spasmed unpredictably and unpracticed, almost fucking the hand wrapped around her throbbing length. Each release brought haughty gasps that sent fire through Judy. 

With one final languid squeeze, V nigh collapsed on top of Judy. “Woah there,” Judy helped lean V back against the shower wall.

V returned the smile, albeit weary, before leaning in to give Judy one last kiss, “Couldn’t stop thinking about this all day.”

“My my, what a pervert~” Judy floated.

V snorted, “Says the one sending me nudes mid-op,”

“Details V, details,” Judy reached for the soap once more. “Think we need to get cleaned back up, hmm?” 

“And then we go straight to bed,” V concluded.

“Right. Bed.” 

#cyberpunk 2077 #judy alvarez #judy x v #v x judy #female v #AATW

[corvidshipping]

Heartbeat

Summary: On a sleepless night, Possum tells Cliff they think his heartbeat is comforting. He’s not quite sure what they mean Pairing: Cliff Stｅｅlｅ/Heather “Red” Bowers (Possum) Warnings: none Rating: G/T Word count: 2.8k A/N: Editing? Outline? bitch what outline here we go

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. Cliff's heavy steps echoed through the silent halls, his eyes straining to pick up obstacles in his way with only moonlight to guide him. His outdated cameras failed him often even in good conditions, but in dead of night he usually had to make his way nearly blind, worsened by the lack of other senses like touch. He cringed internally as he noticed, through the static in his hearing that was ever-present now, how loud his footsteps were, and he wished it were easier for him to walk softly. He hoped it wouldn't wake anyone up.

As carefully as one could in a metal body, Cliff made his way down from his bedroom to the living room of the manor. A digital clock glowed softly on the mantle, a nightlight that the Chief liked to keep for Dorothy. The lit numbers read 1:47 AM. Cliff sighed out loud at the sight of it, realizing he had been trying and failing to sleep for almost three hours. He had managed it, at one point, briefly, but was haunted by visions of the past melding with the present - watching the accident over and over from an outside view, every time Clara replaced by someone different. Dorothy, Jane, and at one point, for some reason, Rachel Weisz was there. He watched a specter of his daughter, trapped in her youth, falling into the hands of Mr. Nobody. He saw worlds where he had died, and Clara was retrieved, her brain shoved into a cold, metallic prison, unforgiving and unfeeling. He heard his only child screaming, trying to cry, slowly realizing that robotic eyes could spill no tears. That was the worst dream so far, and the one that jolted him awake hours ago, the one that kept occupying his brain with anxieties and guilt.

An odd feeling rose within him, one he had grown unpleasantly familiar with. In his youth - that is, when he was human - he would grow sick with anxiety, a physical feeling that felt heavy in his gut. Now, with no body, he had no physical response to the near-constant dread, but a phantom response followed him, something he thought of as a leaden ball. It almost always was accompanied by a ghostly chill, one he should not feel - the expectation of a feeling that his brain, the only soft and organic part of him left, still remembered. Uselessly, Cliff shook his head, as if he were a dog trying to clear his ears of water. He tried to pretend the motion helped.

In the dark, Cliff ventured to the couch, dropping heavily onto it. He wasn't sure why, truly, he still sat there. Not like it's any more comfortable than anywhere else, he thought bitterly. He supposed it was habit, or maybe just that these joints were stiff, and it was awfully hard to bend enough to get up and down off the floor. Getting up the stairs was enough of an effort as it was, he didn't need to make life harder for himself. He blinked slowly, he needed to get his mind off this. His thoughts were just running in circles now, a car on an empty racetrack, making endless grim laps.

Somewhere to the right of him, the curtains fluttered over a closed window, the glass fogging just a little.

"Hey, Possum." Cliff's voice was quiet, and tinged with a hint of static tonight. He turned his head to the window to see writing forming, as if drawn by an invisible finger.

"It's late." The window read, drips slowly forming in the condensation. Slowly, the writing faded back into fog.

"Yeah, yeah, like you're one to talk. We're both awake right now." The curtain moved again, gently. He wondered if that was their way of laughing.

In the silvery moonlight, a soft voice rang out, barely audible and almost a whisper. "I'm a ghost. It's my job to haunt people late at night."

The resident bump-in-the-night, Heather Bowers - or as she preferred to be called, Red, and as Jane had christened her, Possum - could not be easily described in generally accepted terms. In the 1970s, when she was in her 20s, she was met with a terrible accident in small-town Ohio that she refused to speak about. At the exact moment of this accident, her latent psychic powers apparently activated, causing her body to cease to exist and become a thoughtform - a living consciousness, separate from a body, that exists only in its own thoughts, spread across multiple planes of existence. They now spent most of their time incorporeal, floating through the halls (and sometimes the walls) of Doom Manor, rattling chains and giving ghostly moans - the usual fare for a stereotypical ghost. At times, they could become corporeal - though it consumed quite a lot of energy - and, as a thoughtform, they could enter others' minds as a concept, especially in dreams, where they could form a body for themself and act corporeal in the sleeping person's dreamscape. It was almost comparable to Mr. Nobody, but rather than using these powers to cause harm and distress, they just tended to act as a year-round Halloween prop. The easiest way to describe her, in that case, was simply as a ghost, or poltergeist. Or at least, that was how Chief described it.

The accent pillows that Rita had insisted on earlier in the month shifted next to Cliff. "You weren't in the dreamscape when I came looking for you." Possum and Cliff had met when the former had begun entering his dreams, seeking an escape from the loneliness and boredom of life as an invisible consciousness. Possum was shocked when Cliff was able to see her and pointed her out as an anomaly in the memory he frequently revisited when he slept, and after she explained her situation to him and the Patrol, they had formed a comfortable routine of her entering his dreams frequently. An open invitation stood now between the two of them, Cliff trusting them never to overstep boundaries or snoop in memories that weren't theirs. It was a symbiotic thing, mutually beneficial; they got to re-experience corporeality and interact with the world, and they could influence the world of his mind, quelling anxiety and keeping nightmares at bay. Plus they were able to help him dream of his old body, so he got to experience human senses again.

Cliff made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "You wouldn't have wanted to see what I was dreaming about anyway." Immediately, he regretted speaking, knowing that those words would make Possum worry. "It wasn't that bad," he quickly added before she could respond. "Just the usual shit."

There was a heavy silence after that, each passing second making Cliff more and more uncomfortable, wondering what he could say to cut the tension.

Finally, Possum responded.

"I'm sorry. I wish I'd been there earlier," they said gently.

"Aw, don't sweat it, Red." He leaned further forward on the couch, his aging metal joints groaning with the effort. "I'm up now, anyway. And so are you."

A hand reached out from the darkness, pale white and translucent, landing on his arm. He couldn't feel her touch, but he could tell from looking that it was gentle, resting on the plates of his forearm delicately, like he was something fragile, precious. Like she was afraid he would break.

When they spoke, Possum's voice was even quieter, lower, as if she hoped he wouldn't hear her. "Can I... will you, um, rest with me?"

"Huh?"

Possum cleared her throat. "You need rest. I uh, I saw once on the Discovery Channel that if you can't sleep, it's better to lay down and close your eyes, even if you don't sleep. Y'know, it helps, um, y'know, you don't strain yourself that way. Your brain, and stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, I'll be okay, pint-size." Cliff leaned back against the couch arm again. "You okay?"

He heard her inhale, a strange sound in the empty darkness. "Can I sleep with you here, tonight?" Before Cliff could respond, she continued. "It's just that the attic is so far away from everyone else, it's so quiet, and the trains keep coming through, and it's cold up there. And no one's been around all day, you know? I haven't been able to talk to anyone, it's been a bad day for corporeality. And, y'know. The attic is just... really cold."

If he could have furrowed his brows, he would have. Instead, he settled for a nonplussed blink. Briefly, he wondered if she might just be afraid of the dark. The thought made him laugh a bit, the bonafide ghost haunting the manor being scared of the dark in the attic she occupies. "Sure, yeah."

Before him, Possum's figure manifested fully. The nickname "pint-size" was not a misnomer - when Cliff stood at full height next to them, the very top of their head barely hit his shoulder. They were a tiny, ghostly apparition, red hair floating as if they were underwater shocking against the pale glowing white of their skin. Right now, this phantom was floating in midair, as if laying on some bed, one hand propping up their chin and the other still on his arm, their legs kicking slowly behind them. Slowly, moving as if in a pool, they rearranged their body's positioning, pulling their legs under them so they were sitting normally on the couch next to him. Cliff saw the couch shift as they became more corporeal, taking up more weight on the cushions as they became more grounded in physical reality. Once they had fully manifested, they slowly leaned over towards him, eyes averting from his.

They laid their head on his shoulder, gently, like they were testing if he would pull away. He didn't, just looking at them. They took a deep, quiet breath, and relaxed, positioning themself so their head was laying on his chest. Once they were in the position they wanted, they stretched out, the tips of their toes stretching to the other arm of the couch. Cliff shifted a bit, leaning back to make them more comfortable. Possum closed their eyes and smiled, and it reminded him a bit of an extremely self-satisfied cat.

Cliff looked down at their head nestled on his metal torso. "There's no way you're comfortable like that," he muttered, trying to be mindful of his volume with how close to his voicebox their ear was. With the way they smiled when he spoke, he could swear they liked the vibrations of his voicebox in his chest.

She opened her eyes to look up at him, black eyes gazing up at him and glittering like the stars reflected in a deep black pool. Their spectral ailment only served to deepen the effect of their eyes, leaving very little white to their sclerae, completing an otherworldly look. "No, I am. I like to listen to your heartbeat."

Was she making fun of him? "I don't have a heartbeat," Cliff said flatly.

They sat up, propping themself on their arms so they were eye-to-eye with him. "No, you do. Sometimes when we sleep and I'm not in the dreamscape, I listen to it, just like this."

"Possum, I don't have any organs. I barely have a brain." He laughed a bit at the end, trying to cover his confusion.

"I'll show you!" Suddenly, she had bolted upright, and swooped down to the ground like an Olympic diver, passing through the floor towards the basement level. Cliff waited a minute in the silence, the dark no longer lit by their odd phantasmic glow. Finally, they flew back up through a different space in the floor closer to the television with the same vigor. They held a stethoscope in their hands, likely borrowed from Chief's hoard, and Cliff wondered in bemusement what the logic of a solid object passing through the floor with them was.

"Here." They clambered back onto the couch, regaining solidity, and leaned against him. They stretched up to his head, and he leaned forward a bit to help them put the earpieces against the auditory inputs on either side of his head. "Listen!" They placed the resonator against his chest.

Cliff heard nothing, but Possum sat staring at him, their index finger placed against their lips in a hushing gesture. After a moment, he was about to call it quits and say they were hearing things, but their stare was so earnest, he couldn't bring himself to. He waited,

and waited,

and waited,

and Possum shifted the resonator,

and then he heard it.

It wasn't that it had just started. It had been there. But it was a low noise, one he was used to, and when Possum shifted the resonator it only then became loud enough for him to recognize as a sound distinct from his usual background noise.

It wasn't a heartbeat, per se. Not in the organic sense, at least. It was more of a mechanical thrumming, a pulsing, a deep noise that wasn't so much like the beating of a drum as it was like the quiet revving of an engine a few streets over, reduced by distance and acoustics to only its most bassy components. He looked down, and he heard the whirring and whining of the servos in his neck and shoulders through the stethoscope. The placement of the stethoscope was slightly left of center of his chest, where his heart naturally should be.

Possum pulled away the stethoscope, the earpieces falling away from his head. "You hear it, right?"

"That's not my heart," Cliff repeated. "None of my body past my neck was saved. I think that's my nutrient tubes. Or maybe my power system. Or my servos."

"So?" 

"... So what?" He blinked at her.

Possum sat upright and spread their arms out to either side of them, palms up, theatrically. "That's exactly what I'm saying!" They said with overdramatic exasperation.

She let herself fall back onto his body, a soft thud echoing inside his chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and serious. "So what? I know it isn't an organ, dummy. It doesn't have to be an organ to be your heart. It's comforting either way. It just reminds me that you're here, right now. It doesn't have to be a literal heart to do that, just as long as it's part of you."

Cliff sat silently, as they shifted back into their preferred positioning. He mulled over their words as they pulled themself as close as possible to his body, snuggling their head into the crevice between his shoulder and chest. Mindlessly, he moved his right arm to the small of their back, like he was supporting them, and his left hand moved to their hair, gently running through the strands, liquid copper over the rust of his fingers.

When he finally moved to respond, he realized they had fallen asleep long ago, letting out small snuffles every once in a while. So instead of giving a retort, he simply pulled them closer to his chest, tighter, like if he held them tightly enough he could feel the warmth of their body or the softness of their skin. He nestled his face in their hair, a nuzzling motion with his nose, and let his eyelids drop closed.

✥﹤ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ﹥✥

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. Between the slats of the half-drawn blinds, dawn light crept through the windows, lighting up the motes of dust that floated in the air and landing in stripes across sleeping forms. Cliff slept, now, on the couch, half sitting, Heather's pale form clutched in his arms and her hair tangled over his left hand's fingers like wild vines. In his chest, a mechanical heart thrummed and pulsed in a gentle rhythm, delivering power to his limbs, his brain. There were no nightmares, now, no dreams of his anxieties, no personified guilt; nor did he dream of the past, the bittersweet memories that, though happy, always left him with an empty feeling when he woke. He didn't dream of Clara's youth, of his last phone call to Kate. He didn't dream of Mr. Nobody, he didn't dream of Chief locking him away in an iron prison. He simply didn't dream. For once, it was quiet within his mind, even without the shared dreamscape.

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. As the manor began to stir and come to life with the others, Cliff was at peace there on the couch in the living room, and so was Heather.

And two hearts beat between them.

#self shipping #self ship fanfic #self ship fic #self ship community #self ship #paper_heart.txt #lucky stars #FUCK it im posting this i dont wanna wait anymore enjoy #good luck wit this if u read it /j #s: human after all

[taehyungiejiminie95]

Namjoon – He’s about to get discharged

Warning – May be upsetting to some readers

“Are you awake?” Namjoon mumbles, the low timbre of his morning voice tickling the base of your neck as he tries to curl around you. Your eyes are too sore with tiredness to open, but you are awake. You nod, hearing him sniff as the movement thrusts your hair into his nose, “I’m really scared about leaving. I know it sounds stupid because everyone does it and they always come home, but I still can’t help worrying,” He admits to you. Still unable to open your eyes, you shift around under the covers until your face is pressed into Namjoon’s neck, breathing him in for the last time in two years,

“It’s okay to worry. I doubt anyone goes off to serve their duty without being at least a little apprehensive,” You murmur, moving your hands to caress his shoulders soothingly, “It’s scary. I’m scared for you, even though I know the chances of you ever being in any kind of actual combat is so slim. But it’s okay. It’s natural,” Namjoon groans low in his throat in response, wrapping his arms even tighter around your form. He kisses you gently on the forehead, trying to treasure this memory of holding you, knowing he may not feel it again until he’s discharged,

“Thank you,” His breathy reply comes, the clear edges around his voice starting to blur as you’re pulled out of your dream. It’s coming closer and closer to Namjoon’s discharge date – one month, two weeks and four days – so you’ve been having more and more of these dreams. Memories with him, things you want to do when he gets home, just small tastes of the happiness you felt when you were with him. It’s getting closer and closer every day and you really can feel it.

With a small groan, you swing your legs out of bed and force yourself to get up. After Namjoon had left for the military, you’d found it seriously hard. Getting up was the worst part, you didn’t believe you could do it for even a second. The only reason you did was for your young daughter, just barely 4 years old back then. She would come in as dawn started to break, sniffling as she climbed into bed with you. She missed him too. Namjoon had hardly been away for a week before all of this – he’d fly the both of you out during tours so you wouldn’t have time to miss him too much. It was something of a shock for her when her daddy kissed her goodbye, promising to call and write as often as he could. Telling her day after day that daddy wasn’t coming home just yet was heart breaking. She just didn’t understand why he wasn’t here anymore.

It’s not as bad now. Her 6th birthday wasn’t too long ago, and Namjoon had managed to find the time to record a video message for her! The way young Jaehwa’s face lit up made that heaviness inside of your heart lift for just a few precious seconds. It was beautiful.

So, yeah. It’s been a real journey, but with your husband’s return in sight, everything felt just a little bit less challenging. You’ve already started to plan his Welcome Home party, complete with all the people he missed most (but not so many that it becomes overwhelming), his very favourite foods (his letters told you which ones he missed the most) and a few presents to see him home properly. A new book set from his favourite author, a new polaroid camera and a booking to the grand opening of an art gallery opening a few weeks after his homecoming. Everything is going to be perfect,

“48 days left, sweetheart. Daddy is going to be so proud of you,” You say encouragingly to Jaehwa as she sits down for breakfast. Your little girl has grown up so well over the last two years! Namjoon and you made sure to pick out the perfect school for her to start in while he was away, and she looks so sweet in her uniform. She takes pride in her work and is very popular in her class. Namjoon told you (on one of his incredibly rare phone calls) that he keeps that photo of you and her from her first day of school that you sent him in his breast pocket, right over his heart. He told you it was so that you’d always be with him, protecting him. You’d sobbed right there on the phone!

“Do you think he’ll still recognise me in my big girl clothes? I’m a lot bigger than since Daddy last saw me,” Jaehwa questions quietly. You smile sadly as you stroke her hair down from its messy state,

“Of course! We’ve been sending him pictures that he kept, and you know he’d be able to spot you in a crowd the size of his concerts. Daddy would never, ever forget you. He loves you too much,” You reassure her, putting down a bowl of cereal in front of her. ‘Brain food’, Namjoon always called it. No better way to start the day for a growing girl like his Jaehwa. You smile as another memory washes over you. God, you cannot wait to see him.

Just as you send Jaehwa off to get into her uniform ready for school, you hear a quick knock at the door. You sigh as you throw a glance at your watch, hoping it doesn’t take long. You’ve got an important meeting with Jaehwa’s teacher to get to after dropping her off for her Active Start Session before her classes,

“Mrs Kim,” A serious-looking man with a grim expression greets you when you open the door. You scan him quickly, seeing his military attire. You raise a cursory eyebrow as you invite him in, very politely mentioning that very important meeting, “Of course, of course. And little Jaehwa, she’s doing well at school, I assume? Sergeant Kim always told us she was going to be exceptional,”

“She is. Her teacher and I are actually going to be discussing new ways to keep her engaged. She finds it so easy in class,” You brag subtly, “Please, do sit, Marshall,” You nod graciously, knowing better than to refer to a military professional as ‘sir’. You remember Namjoon’s punishment when that fact slipped his mind. You try your best to hide your smile as you offer hot beverages that the Marshall waves away, “To what do I owe the pleasant surprise of your visit? I hope Namjoon hasn’t gotten into trouble,” You joke lightly, stifling that jolt of anxiety in your stomach. Military professionals always look grumpy. They’re too serious, that’s what Namjoon always says. His grim look means nothing,

“I’m so sorry to have to do this, Mrs Kim. Sergeant Kim, your husband… he was truly a good man, and an incredibly adept soldier,” The Marshall starts, eyes shifting around your living room uncomfortably. Your mind blanks. What is he trying to say? You’re about to stutter out a question when he continues, “What happened was entirely unexpected. We sent the sergeant out with his group on a routine reconnaissance at the border and…” He trails off again, shifting in his seat, “Something went wrong. I’m deeply sorry to say that there were no survivors. We have managed to recover the bodies, although I know this is no consolation. Mrs Kim, I cannot express enough how deeply we regret this. Sergeant Kim was…” The Marshall continues offering kind words in an attempt at a gentle voice, but you don’t hear it. The words ring in your ears, and your head feels tight and dark. Your chest hurts. Your eyes sting. Your hands shake. Your knees won’t work. What’s happening? What does this mean?

At some point, you let the Marshall out. You don’t remember getting up or seeing him out, but your body is suddenly pressed against the door frame and you slide down, tears falling thick, fast, hot and silent. What? Why? How? He can’t be. This isn’t real. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear Jaehwa calling out for you. You feel her hands on your arms, you see her blurred face peering at you through your tears. She looks scared. She’s crying. She wriggles into your arms, trying to get you to hold her, but you can’t respond. What’s happening? This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Are you saying that out loud? Jaehwa is crumbling. She’s crying even harder. You can’t see her properly. You tighten your arms around her trembling body, holding her close to you. It doesn’t calm her. She cries harder, face tucked into your neck. She’s begging for you to tell her what happened. Where’s Daddy? What did that man want? What does survivors mean? What does it mean if there aren’t any? She hasn’t learned that word yet.

You miss your meeting that day. Jaehwa misses school. You can’t drive her. You can barely even hold your tears back long enough to try and tell her what’s going on. She doesn’t understand. Neither do you. Namjoon… he’s not. In 48 days, he’s going to come waltzing through that door, isn’t he? For the Welcome Home party? The museum and the books and the everything you had planned? He’ll hang his coat up on the rack and kiss you the way he’d been wanting to for two years. Surely he will. He can’t be gone… can he?

#bts #bts angst #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts scenarios #bts reactions

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XV

Now, normally a love confession would be followed by an answer. It was only rational. Declare your love and wait for a response. Either get a relationship or get rejected.

Lilith was not, however, what society by and large would actually deem ‘normal’ and neither was this confession. The word ‘love’ was not mentioned once, leaving her to wonder if Eve actually did understand her…

As the days passed, what was unspoken but clearly there blossomed, from a pinky-sized seed into a lush bouquet that filled their chest with an indescribable yearning and their conversations with heavy pauses, gazes overflowing with a tenderness that far surpassed what was appropriate between fond friends.

Soon, though, the rubber band holding the bouquet together would snap.

Soon, Lilith would come to know that Eve understood her quite well.

From the tension that sat in the five inches of space between their two chairs, something akin to electricity buzzing there, to the way Eve would eagerly ramble about the (not forbidden, she was still too shy to talk about what exactly was in the book Lilith snuck into her bag) books she’d read during lunch, to the patience Lilith would show as they ran through equations in study hall.

What was unspoken was slowly growing whether Lilith or Eve wanted it too. Like an unkillable weed that always grew back, no matter how many times you’ve pulled it out of the ground, no matter the chemical you chose to douse it with. But far more beautiful… That is, if the gardener would allow it to grow.

And everyone who was willing to see it would know it was there, what was there, even if the people feeling it were too scared to give it a name, even if the people seeing were too scared to admit it existed.

...

It was Thursday night on the same week as the incident, Lilith and Joan sat drinking cola in the shack, crickets and cicadas chirping in chorus outside, no one else with them busy with part-time jobs and family dinners and catching up on a week of homework.

“Hey.” Joan said, trying to steer the conversation away from their light-hearted chats and towards something a bit more… complicated, a tad more touchy.

“Yeah?”

“Are… Eve, I mean.” The brunette took a long sip from her can, the relaxed air between them shifting as she stalled what she needed to say. “Are you sure we can trust her?”

“What do you mean? She’s obviously gay and in denial-”

“That’s the point.” Joan fixes her with a soft stare, trying to strike the balance between firm and sympathetic. “I doubt Eve’s even admitted it to herself, and even if she has, she’s no friend of ours yet.”

“Where’s all this coming from all of a sudden?” Lilith can’t help but be defensive. After everything she’d told Joan about Eve and how she felt for her, after everything Joan had seen Eve go through just that Monday, how could she still be against the girl?

“They’re holding confession tomorrow.”

“What?”

“In the afternoon, just before club. There’s going to be confession.” Another sip from her drink, faster this time. “The holy type.”

Lilith knew exactly what Joan was implying, now considering the possibility herself having remembered what was happening tomorrow and every week after that. She wouldn’t admit it, though, refusing to doubt Eve despite the danger it may pose to trust her, to… love her.

Aster blue eyes widened, if only a fraction, in shock.

“And what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Are you sure she won’t crack?”

It hurt to think of. The chance of betrayal very real and very close, the things it may cost them all hung heavy in the air. What they’d worked for during the past year – the subject of many serious chats, full of tears and thinking and uncertainties, the cause of many sleepless nights, weighing risk and reward, planning – could vanish in an instant and make them vanish with it.

She could practically feel the ‘Godly Living’ brochures in her hand.

It was another thing she tried not to think of too much; her friends strapped into electric chairs and deadly hydrotherapy chambers, pumped full of pills that made them nauseous at the very thought of love with women or ones that didn’t let them think at all, the possibility of getting lobotomized.

“- could out us! She could out you!”

Joan’s voice pulled her from her mind before she could go too deep.

The emphasis on ‘you’ nearly made Lilith cry.

At the end of it all, even with the threat it brought to their gay little family, made up of people so vastly different yet somehow so similar, Joan was thinking about her.

And she was right to.

Tomorrow, if Eve did give her away, the others would be able to lie their way out of it, come up with alibis and excuses and cry ‘I have a boyfriend’ because Eve hadn’t spent enough time around them to gain anything as evidence because Eve had only been around Lilith.

“I don’t think she will.”

She tried not to sound scared.

“The only thing she really has against me are words anyways…” There was no reason to tell the other of the note she’d written for Eve. Painful as it was, the girl had probably thrown it out by now, especially since she knew what it meant. “And she can’t mention experience without admitting what almost happened between us a week ago.”

Joan was unconvinced.

“Are you really going to take this risk?”

She tossed Joan a few quarters. Enough for three phone calls on the payphone a mile or so away.

Maybe Lilith was going to risk herself for the sake of some girl.

But she’d be damned if she let her friends do the same thing for her.

“Call the others. Tell them to pack essentials and paperwork. Tell Colette to bring the check.”

“Only if you pack a bag too.”

It seems they would do the same for Lilith, whether she wanted them too or not.

“Joan-”

“No. If we have to leave tomorrow, you’re coming with us.”

And that was that.

...

It was a fine Friday morning in St. Agnes School For Girls. Maybe even her last.

Lilith tried to stay calm. Even as she packed her bags, even as she snuck into her grandfather’s office to retrieve her personal papers, even during the walk back to the shack, even while Paula and Joan and Julia and Colette went over what to say if they were questioned about their relationship with one another, their closeness, their relationship with Lilith, specifically.

It was agreed they would never throw each other under the bus. Agreed that, they’d deny all allegations against each other despite the proof, even if it may mean making them complicit.

After all, if they had to flee, they’d flee together.

If even one of them were found out, the plan was to run and pull a fire alarm, notifying the others.

Joan’s truck was parked just a few streets away from the school, no more than a quick sprint needed to reach it, key in her pocket, Paula carrying a duplicate, bags already in the back, fastened, Julia had forged a note for them about an after-school activity, buying them some time before a search was called if the school didn’t immediately call their guardians, and Colette carried all she needed to cash the check in on her person.

The last thing they did were practice statements, crafting sentences that left no room for interpretation and had no strange implications, absent of loopholes and additional clauses.

“What do we say if any of us are questioned about homosexual activity?”

“I know nothing about that.” They said, all in synch, drilling the words into their heads exactly as they were so there was no chance of them being taken out of context and used to spin a narrative. If the nuns wanted any of them sent to conversion therapy, they were going to have to lie through their teeth. “I’ve never taken part in such things and know no one who has.”

They sounded nothing like themselves, Lilith realized in between breaks.

Though she supposed that was the point.

“Again!” Said Joan. “What do you say if they accuse your friends of being homosexuals?”

“My friends and I are good, Christian people who would never willingly associate with homosexuals. I have personal anecdotes to prove the innocence of the girl you are accusing.”

It made them sick to their stomachs, having to say such things.

It made them safe, though.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

They were prepared.

But they didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

 ...

As the day went on, Lilith began to lose her cool, anxiety creeping deep into her bones, growing fidgety and restless. Her leg shook under the table, fingers tapping against the desk and clicking pens, eyes always shifting, looking for another sign that they needed to go.

Was this what Eve felt like every day?

The fear of being found out was in no means foreign to Lilith, nor was the fear of God, a tyrant she used to believe in and worship just like Eve did. But it had faded, her hiding of herself perfected to a science, fear turning into anger as she realized that everything she was raised on was a sham.

It had been too long since she felt this real, crushing anxiety.

She didn’t like it.

...

It was time.

Lilith and Eve sat next to each other in the small chapel on school grounds, just a bit behind the actual building but before the convent, not an inch of space between them as they were squeezed into the pews filled with those yet to receive the sacrament of confession. The seats were divided so that there were two groups of pews, one for waiting, the other for prayer, where many would do their penance. Two confessional booths were far behind them, having been placed like that so none of the girls would see who went in when or be able to hear a peep.

She knew how this was going to happen, how they could possibly get outed.

Priests were not allowed to break their vows and tell the nuns of the sins they’d heard during the confession but a penance was to be given to those who had sinned.

It could be anything from a prayer to an act of service.

It could be telling the nuns what you’ve done or know someone’s done as a way of repenting.

No doubt, if anyone confessed something of significance, they would have to tell Mother Cecilia.

And since most everyone who did this in earnest would believe their soul was on the line, if the girls in this school were truly the people they claimed to be, they would tell the nuns, friendships and loyalties and love be damned as the person they tattle on.

“Eve?” The girl whispered, finally snapping. “The note I gave you, do you still have it?”

The blonde did nothing more than look to the marble floor, hair shielding her face. There was no way for Lilith to tell if she was ashamed or guilty or planning to-

“Please answer me.”

“I still have it.”

For the first time in years, far longer than what most would consider healthy, Lilith felt herself minutes away from bursting into tears, eyes stinging from having to hold it all in.

“Where?”

“Why?”

Eve refused to meet her eyes when she ducked down to try and catch a glimpse of her face.

“With me, right now, in my pocket.”

Before the girl could answer her, a nun appeared to lead Eve into the booth, giving her a light scolding as they went.

“Time before confession should be used to reflect on your sins, Miss Peccator.”

“Yes, Sister Jane. I’m sorry.”

And with that, she was gone.

...

It was an eternity later when Lilith left the chapel, finding Eve just outside, to the right, standing amongst stone pillars that had barely started growing moss, waiting.

They were as alone as they could be, the only things watching them were the unseeing eyes of the statue saint surrounding them, whatever creature lingered in the cracks on the chapel’s stone, and God.

Perhaps what resided in the chapel was God.

“Eve…” She stepped closer to the girl, desperation potent. “What did you tell them?”

No response.

All she was given were downcast brown eyes and fidgeting fingers, guilt.

Lilith took another step forward, grabbing the other by her hands, letting Eve feel her warmth, her pulse, the softness of her flesh, of the blood that flowed through her veins, of her humanity.

“Eve, what did you tell the priest?”

Lilith had fallen to her knees, in a plea, in a prayer, the ground beneath her unforgiving and now stained with her blood, dark red and sinful. Eve’s hands clasped in hers and pressed to her sweat-soaked forehead as sobs wracked her body harder than it had in years.

She was screaming now, pulling on the other’s hands hard enough to hurt, something, anything to make the girl look up at her, unaware of the tears streaming down her own face.

“Eve? Eve?! What did you tell the priest?!”

They were the image of repentance, a holy figure, a dirty sinner; Eve towered above Lilith as she cried, immaculate and unattached as the girl wept into her skirts and her hands, a holy portrait commissioned by a long-gone pope.

If only they weren’t both sinners in His eyes.

“What did you tell the priest, Eve?!”

__________________

HAPPY HOLIDAYS HAVE A FUCKING CLIFF HANGER ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Lmao yes I know it's only the 24th but I’ll be back on actual christmas day with the next chapter tho so please don’t be mad at me and I’m very sorry for this (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Anyways, I would like some reblogs as my present this year <333

Taglist: @atahensic @anomiewrites @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @phillyinthebathroom @gaypeaches @extrabitterbrain @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock

#Lilith and Eve #my writing #writing #writer #writers #writers of tumblr #writeblr #books #books and libraries #pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #wlw pride #lgbt #religious imagery #religion #christianity #religion tw #christianity tw #tw religion #tw christianity #religious trauma #literature #gay literature #lesbian literature #sapphic literature #wlw romance #lesbian romance #gay romance #romance

[1zashreena1]

Wedding Planning -15

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary:  Princess came home to a whole new set of anxieties. Murder Panther to the rescue via the restorative powers of dick. Unlike the dick, this one is short and sweet.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Come eating, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, wedding planning comes with its own warning

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​​ ​ @symbiont13​​ ​ @nicke0115​​ ​​ @bunnykjm​​ ​ @rosee-sensuelle​​ ​ @girlpornparadise​​ ​ @mandoplease​​ ​ @heresathreebee​​ ​ @xxsteph-enrixx​​ ​ @jetiikad​​ ​ @joalsglasses​​ ​ @mutantcookiesecrets​​ ​ @demoncatstone​​ ​ @squidlywiddly87​​ ​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​​ ​ @poeedamerons​​ ​ @xxidontwikeitxx​  @kid-from-new-zealand​ @fleurfatale89​ @allalngthewtchtower​

You have to make some decisions. Like, a bunch.

Okay, make a list. 

You pull the big legal notepad off the bookshelf in your living room and meander around until you find your colored pens. Red for immediate, orange for middling, and green for long-term.

Parameters set, you begin The Listing.

It takes a couple of days, but you think you finally have everything accounted for that you can possibly imagine.

The long term column has vague, nebulous, theoretical problems written in dark green:

-Where will you live?

-Keep your job???

-TAKE HIS NAME?????????

-CONVINCE HIM TO RETIRE

Intermediate consists of things you two need to discuss, too:

-Ceremony?

     Where 

     What type

     Who invited

     When

-Honeymoon?

-Colors?

-Food (yum/lots plz)

-Flowers  eww no ->Alternative bouquet 

-People in ceremony???

And then things that need answered like, next week:

-MEET FAMILIES (panic)

-A Dress?

-??????? omg help

You're going to give yourself a panic attack if you keep looking at it. I'll just take it with me this weekend and hand the immediate section to him.

You feel a little better with a plan, even if it only consists of two steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Diego is standing in the kitchen glaring at the espresso machine when Bastian drops you off at the penthouse.

You glance around, no Julio to be found, before you head over to him. Diego's left hand shoots out and he wiggles fingers at you, trying to grab you despite the twenty foot gap between your bodies. You snort, but its still adorable. 

Slotting in underneath his arm, you wind around him with a sigh. "Hi, baby. Whatcha doing?"

Brown eyes come down to you and he smiles widely. "Its not working. How was your trip?" His forehead descends and you rise on tiptoes to meet him. 

"Better now that I'm here." You whisper as your lips curl up in a pleased grin. Diego rubs his nose with yours before swooping down for a kiss. The goatee has gotten long enough that its now soft on your chin, but still tickly. Combined with his velvet lips and hot tongue, you almost experience sensory overload. High pitched noises escape your throat while you melt against him. Diego takes your weight with no effort and you don't hesitate to let him. When he finally pulls back you just have to chase him a little; you really, really like the facial hair.

When you finally slit eyes open he is grinning down at you like a cat that got the canary. He sounds so smug, "I should grow out the entire beard?" 

You lick your lips and consider the salt and pepper growth that occurred since you saw him last weekend. Your left eyebrow climbs with your own inquiry, "Do you want to live between my thighs?"

"Uh, yes…?" Diego answers what was apparently the stupidest question ever posed. Chocolate eyes sparkle at you as he fails to suppress a smirk. "What do you think the ring is about?"

Your guffaw is cut short when he tosses you up onto the counter and shoves both huge hands down the back of your pants to push them off. The jeggings stretch easily over your hips and Diego, ever efficient when it comes to getting some pussy, takes your thong with them in one swift motion. Bracing hands on those broad shoulders, you wiggle and shift and bend whichever way is necessary to assist. Never let it be said that you are not a team player.

Your left shoe hits the floor and as Diego switches to the right he asks breathlessly, "New?"

"Yeah." Your response is just as rushed as you grab at his hair.

"Pretty." He tosses the right shoe off towards the living room with this proclamation. 

Both big hands come up to your knees and spread your legs wide. "Well, thank yourself. I used the black Amex." You chuckle as you lean back on elbows.

Slowly, menacingly, promisingly, Diego rises over the lip of the counter between your legs with that shark smile. He purposely pitches his voice low to rumble, "Good girl."

Your insides liquefy as your back arches and your pussy clenches down on nothing. How the hell does he do that? You can feel yourself getting wet. Fleeting kisses and sharp little nips mark Diego's progress up the inside of your left thigh.

"Hmm." His breath ghosts over your center in the lightest of teases. "What is that method to train again? The treats instead of yelling?" He rubs those bristles you so love over your inner thighs with considerable force and it almost induces a seizure.

"P-postive reinforcement!" Your yelp is exceedingly high pitched. Oh fuck yes, reward me with tongue, I'm a good Princess. You're almost certain that your brain has melted, you have zero sense when it comes to this man.

Diego nips the very bottom of your right buttcheek, so close and yet way, way too far away. "Yesss," he hisses into the short hair just above where you need him most, "That's what its called." The feel of his goatee just barely brushing over your folds while he speaks has turned you into a gibbering mess.

"P-please, Diego. I did like you told me, I didn't even text to ask first, please please…" How he manages to break you down into a begging disaster so quickly is a mystery. Your hands curl into his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer.

"Mm hmm," his deep hum makes you quiver, memories of that sound being delivered straight to your sensitive bundle of nerves via the vehicle of his tongue drive you higher. The rough timbre is dark with desire when he speaks this time, "You were a very good girl. My pretty little Princess is learning well. Let Diego give you your reward."

The heat of his open mouth covering your entire vulva is stunning. Your shoulders fall to the countertop as you moan shamelessly, "Ohhh, yes baby." That sinfully amazing tongue pokes into your entrance then flattens out broadly to lap all the way up to your clit. "Yeah!" Your single breathy yelp is accompanied by a jerk of your wide hips. Diego presses hard and moans.

Your hands slap down on the countertop for leverage so you can press down on him. "Yes, yes. Oh my god, how is, your tongue, so hot??" Breath stuttering, your words are choppy. Your chest jumps each time he groans against you and Diego repeats it again, seemingly just to enjoy your reaction. He pulls off with an obscene slurp, Nonono come back! 

"The same way this pretty little pussy is always so tight." The dirty talk is all the warning you get as two thick fingers sink deep inside. It takes a moment to comprehend that the ringing in your ears is an uncomfortable noise emanating from your mouth. He pulls out slowly, making sure you feel every ridge and callus, all the textures, before pushing in again steadily. Each time he retreats your cunt clenches down, trying to hold on to the feeling of being filled. "Did you miss your Diego? Huh?"

There is no earthly reason anyone should be this fucking sexy.  

"Only, oh fuck, only when I'm ali-i-i-ive!" The confession ends in a squeal as he bottoms out and rubs your cervix. The cold counter is heating rapidly under your thrashing form. Just as you start to get accustomed to the sensation Diego ups the ante by closing lips over your clit and sucking. Your hips roll against him, he matches the rhythm of his hand with your movements expertly. Legs rising high and spreading wide, trying to give him as much room as possible to work. A broken chant is punched out of you with every thrust, "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah."

The disappointed whine you utter when he breaks the suction is cut off into choked silence by the focused licks he is now delivering. You bury both hands into his short hair and hang on for dear life. His beard rasps against your sensitive skin and the contrasting feelings drive you mad. These are the licks that push you higher, these licks mean business. 

Between the long, slow thrusts of his fingers and the never ending laving of your clit, everything is tightening up quickly. Your legs shake and your stomach trembles, you pull on his hair and Diego moans for you. You moan back, "Fuck. Yeah, baby. Just, just keep. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Because Diego is Diego, he doubles down on the pressure and goes even harder with the tongue. Your entire consciousness narrows down to the man between your legs working you over like its his life's mission to make you come on his face. Everything is clinching tighter and tighter. Tense and strung out taut, you call for him as he pushes you right up to the edge and straight over it.

"Diego, Diego. Baby, I- F-fuck, yes, yes. Love you, love you, I fucking love you, I love you." You realize that was aloud but can't be bothered to stop the babbling confession synchronized to the waves of your climax. Diego groans against your clit but keeps his fingers fully buried so you can clamp down on him in ecstasy. You ride it out knowing full well that he won't rush this, he loves to feel the effect he has on you. You have no idea how long it goes on, the agonizing pleasure slowly easing, but your back finally crashes down to the marble while you wheeze in exhaustion. 

Using the grip in his hair, you tug gently to pull him off. Looking down over your curves, you flush even more as you watch Diego lick his lips lewdly. I am living in my very own private porno. 

Movement further down catches your eye and you realize that this entire time he has been stroking himself with the hand not shoved inside you. His massive cock is already dark and dripping as it pokes out of open pants.

"Your turn." You utter as you reach for him. 

"No!" Diego barks and bats your hand away. Is he sick? Do I need to call 911? You're immediately concerned that he might be dying. "Lie back. Be still."

Okay, kinky motherfucker. Of course he has something in mind. You flop down as ordered and Diego moans with satisfaction. 

"Yes, good girl. Do as I command and let Diego come all over you, pretty little Princess." He stares down at you with eyes black in arousal. His mouth hangs open to pant and his brows are drawn together in concentration. Swiping precome off the head of his dick, Diego reaches up to offer it. You lick with no hesitation as he rams those same fingers that were just up your pussy into your mouth and practically down your throat. "Suck."

With a moan you do exactly what he wants, your eyes closing in pleasure from the combined tastes of him and yourself. You don't have to put on a show when you enjoy this so very much. Your tongue covers every centimeter of his index and middle fingers, suckling strongly to get every last drop. Diego whines at the sight.

"Fuck. Yes. Princess. My Princess. Diego's perfect little Princess." His voice is rough and rattling, you can tell from how harshly he fists his cock that he is very close. The sight of two of your favorite parts of him together, his hand and his dick, makes you writhe.

You wrap your left hand around his thick forearm and the glint of your diamond ring catches his eye. His fingers drop out of your mouth to hold your jaw ever so tenderly. You decide to give him that last little nudge.

"Baby," You breathe, he pries his eyes away from the ring to meet yours. You pitch your voice low and sultry,  "Come for your Princess, my Murder Panther."

Diego's expression crumples and his hips snap forward twice as he comes with a quiet roar. "Ahhh, sí sí. Yessss." Its fascinating to watch; this big, powerful, dangerous man losing control over you. You absolutely love it. 

He paints your stomach white with come, squeezing the last little bit out and then slapping both hands down the counter to gasp. Before you can reach for those shoulders to pet him into aftercare, Diego dives down to lap up his own mess.

"Holy fuckin' shit that's hot." You are right back to the edge just like that. His soft tongue scoops up the gleaming liquid and you can literally see him swallowing it. You jump when fingers brush your labia but sigh with approval when they sink deep into you again. Diego, now finished with your stomach, comes back up to take your mouth. 

This is a whole new level of obscene: Sucking his own come off of his tongue while he finger fucks you to another orgasm. The mental image of what you two must look like defiling the kitchen counter is enough to make you tighten around him. The rapid, forceful thrusting of his thick fingers sends you careening into climax while moaning into his mouth. Pussy trembling around him and hips jerking, you hang on tight to his biceps until every wave of pleasure ebbs away. You flop back down and Diego collapses on top of you.

"Fuck. If that, if that's what I get for spending your money. Then I need to fucking splurge more often." You can barely string words together. 

Diego purrs.

Its now forty minutes later and you manage to troubleshoot the espresso machine.

"Its unplugged." You murmur, pointing lazily. 

"Mmmph." Diego moans from his position face down in your cleavage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A brief debate on showering occurred, but a motion to nap on the sectional was introduced and unanimously ratified almost immediately. 

When you wake up later the only light in the penthouse is supplied by the neighboring skyscrapers. Curled up on your right side, Diego is spooned up behind you with his beard velcroed into your hair and the fingers of his left hand are laced with yours around the diamond ring. The sight makes you both happy and anxious. 

"Baby?" You breathe. Diego shifts behind you, then yawns hugely. It even sounds adorable, you smile to yourself.

"Que pasa?" His voice is rough from sleep and you shiver. "You're stiff. What's wrong, Princess?"

"I have some notes we need to discuss. Its not bad!" Rushing to reassurance, you move to sit up. He releases your hands but strokes down your back as you stand. Bare feet pad across the rug as you go back to your bag and retrieve the notepad. Diego blinks when you turn on a lamp but waves you back into his embrace. 

"What is troubling my Princess?" He rumbles as you wiggle around and get situated in his lap. You present the immediate list of issues and give him time to read the few items. He chuckles at you, "Let's start from the bottom, yes? I will help." He mimes crossing it off the list.

"Yeah, alright." You giggle. "But the family thing. You know my parents are chomping at the bit. I'm the last girl they get to marry off, its a big deal or something." Your eyes roll as you flap your hand around. 

"How much do you want them involved?" Diego presents something you hadn't considered yet.

"Huh. I. Wait a sec." He props his chin in his hand while you consider. You're very distracted by the lazily blinking Murder Panther under you. "Okay," settling hands on your thighs, you push through the anxiety, "I had assumed they were not paying for it."  Careful watching shows Diego rolling his eyes at you.

"Of course not. Don't be silly." He scoffs quietly. 

Yeah, duh. You can feel terror bubbling up and you squash it ruthlessly. "Well in that case, almost none. We'll make all the decisions. They'll be allowed to give opinions or whatever, but no control." That does make it a little easier.

"No artistic license to the people who created you. Ballsy. I like that." Diego is nothing if not encouraging of you. His expression of mock impression makes you gigglesnort. Then he throws you another curveball of an offer, "Do you want a wedding planner?" 

Everything stops for a moment before you breathe, "Fuck." That never even occurred to me.

Big fingers dip into your hair and turn so you face him fully. Diego is grinning from ear to ear. "Did I crash Fiance Princess OS?"

You nod faintly. "I… never even considered that. I don't come from a background where people do that, you know?" 

Shrugging one shoulder at you, Diego 'hmm's thoughtfully. "I did not suggest it sooner because you like planning. What is everything that needs to be planned?" His face turns mildly horrified at your sudden flailing.

"EVERYTHING! YOU HAVE TO PLAN EVERYTHING!" You most definitely did not have control of your own volume setting just now. "So, like, the venue, the date, the wedding party, the clothing, the food, decorations, seating arrangements, guest lists, ugh, fucking flowers. I do not want flowers! Oh, shit, music? Oh my god, everyone is going to be offended by my musical choices at some point." You facepalm and then drop the entire setup down into your lap, too, for good measure.

Diego pokes your arm with the corner of the notepad and you reach to take it from him without looking.

He snatches it back and tosses it over the couch and into the kitchen where it lands on the floor with a slap.

 "Fuck it. We can elope."

#damnit diego #murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #starz power diego jimenez #maurice compte #zash writes

[owlhart]

This Is The Way

So this is the way that I say I need you.

Winter tumbled headfirst into spring, luscious fields of green scattered with magneta ginatias and white myrtle peaking through the melting snow as blowballs swayed in the warm breeze and hellebores danced under the golden sunlight. The skies were painted a baby blue, white wispy streaks of clouds floating lazily across it and Triss would have loved for nothing more than to lie on the grass and stare at the clouds all day. But alas, she was stuck inside the Tretogor palace at a summit with Foltest, who was bickering over something trivial with Vizimir. 

The meeting dragged on and on and on and despite her best efforts to focus on the matters being discussed, her mind wandered off before being pulled back to the present when she felt the weight of Philippa’s gaze burning into the side of her face, heavy and restless. Triss wet her lips unconsciously and Philippa’s eyes flickered down towards them briefly before snapping up to meet her eyes. Triss shot her a curious look but Philippa withdrew into herself - not visibly but Triss knew her well enough by now to recognise the signs - walls slipping back into place, and the moment of connection was broken.

When the two monarchs had grown tired of arguing, they retired into the dining hall for a drink - though to be honest, Triss thought she also deserved a drink - leaving the two sorceresses alone in the great hall. Triss moved over to stand beside Philippa, who was simply staring out the large glass windows.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Triss said, “but you seem like you have a lot on your mind.” 

Philippa’s shoulders deflated ever so slightly.

“I always do.”

They shared in the heavy silence for a while before Triss turned to leave, only for Philippa to catch her by the hand. Triss let out a soft gasp and glanced over her shoulder. Philippa was still staring out the window and she had never looked beautiful than now, bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun.

“Stay.”

The single word lacked Philippa’s usual authoritative tone but was instead tinged with hesitance and uncertainty, a cross between a question and a plea. 

Triss recognised the unspoken meaning and she nodded, brushing a thumb across the back of Philippa’s hand.

“Ok.”

And Philippa smiled.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the way that I say I love you.

Summer rolled in like a heat wave, and everything from the temperatures, the colours and people’s emotions, seemed to intensify. 

After much pleading and cajoling, Philippa had allowed Triss to drag her to Toussaint on one of those rare weekends when neither of them had to attend to any pressing matters.

Beauclair was bustling with life with all its sophistication and elegance, and the two of them spent the better part of the day wandering through the maze of multi-coloured buildings, heels clicking on the cobblestones and hands brushing against each others. Philippa ordered a few boxes of Everluce and Est Est from the winery to be sent to Montecalvo and Triss restocked on some rare herbs at the herb store. They explored every nook and cranny of the city, ambling past the jewellers - Triss’ eyes almost popped out at the size of one of the sapphires which Philippa found comically appealing - and the perfumery and the tavern.  

And when Triss’ stomach started to protest quite loudly, Philippa let out a low chuckle and led Triss to the Knights Dormant Square, where they sat down outdoors at a restaurant overlooking the lake, the Beauclair Palace a majestic background against the backdrop of the surrounding mountains. 

Triss wished that she could capture this moment - a profile of Philippa glancing out at the waters that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, swirling her Fiorano with a content smile tugging at the corner of her lips - it was absolutely picturesque.

“I wish we could have more time to enjoy life like this,” Triss mused, resting her chin on her palm.

Philippa hummed in agreement, taking a sip from her glass slowly. 

“We will, once we’ve changed the world.”

Triss stared out across the lake, trying to hide the blush flaring up in her cheeks. “We?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘we’.”

“And?”

A heat started creeping up the back of her neck and Triss rubbed at it nervously.

“It’s nothing.”

Philippa placed her glass down on the table, eyes softening a fraction. “It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you that much.”

Triss bit her bottom lip, taking her time to collect her thoughts. Philippa waited patiently, neither pressing her nor dismissing her, and for that, Triss was grateful.

“Sometimes, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough. I know I am. But sometimes...it’s just a feeling, like I’m not as powerful or as experienced or beautiful,” her hand fiddled with the collar of her blouse, “and...I don’t know, I just look around me and...I wish I could be...more. Just more.” Triss winced sheepishly. “Never mind, I’m just being silly. Forget I said anything.”

Pursing her lips, Philippa turned to face Triss fully with a serious expression.

“It’s easy to doubt yourself, but you are beautiful and you are powerful. And your power and experience will increase over time. Wanting to achieve more is not a bad thing by any means. But do not change for anyone else. You are who you are, who you can be, who you want to be, regardless of what others may think or what they expect you to be. Don’t compare yourselves to them, because they don’t hold a candle to you.”

Triss sucked in a breath, looking slightly emotional. 

“Thank you.” - for believing in me; for loving me and for loving me for who I am.

Nodding, Philippa took another sip of her wine and slid a velvet box across the table almost casually.

Triss’ eyes bugged out once again at the cornflower blue sapphire pendant hanging from the silver chain.

“It reminded me of your eyes,” Philippa shrugged.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the way that I say I’m yours.

Summer eased into autumn seamlessly, warm shades of red, orange and yellow washing away the cooler blues and greens. 

Philippa had been gone for the whole day, attending the autumn solstice festival with a noblewomen and Triss could only imagine the more intimate activities they would get up to that night. And against her better judgement, jealousy curled around her heart with a vicelike grip and try as she may, she could not shake the feeling, no matter how much she told herself that Philippa was only doing it to obtain information and leverage.

It was irrational and it was unfounded, but insecurity and lack of confidence was something that had been engrained in her since she had been young. She had gotten better at overcoming such flaws but now and again, they would rear their ugly heads and she would have to fight to avoid sinking into the abyss.

Sleep evaded her most of the night and by the time Philippa returned the next morning, the anxiety in her heart had grown, lodging itself in her throat and twisting her stomach and gut unforgivingly.

“Triss?”

Her head snapped up towards the sound when Philippa stepped into the room.

“What’s wrong?”

Triss flinched slightly at the hard tone. Wringing her hands frantically, she mumbled, “nothing, I just...you...you were just gone for a while and I was wondering when you’d be back and-”

“Triss,” Philippa interrupted, taking both of Triss’ hands in her own. “Stop pacing. Look at me.”

Triss stopped, insecurity fluttering across her face. Philippa held her gaze, leaning forward and touching her forehead against hers as she placed Triss’ hand over her chest. The rhythmic thumping of Philippa’s heart pulsed against Triss’ fingertips, steady and soothing. 

She knew how Philippa felt about her - Philippa would never voice it in such obvious terms but she would let Triss know in her way. Still, there was always an insecurity tucked away in the back of her mind, a little part of her that always needed reassurance. It was stupid because she knew better - she knew Philippa’s mind, she knew her heart. She knew Philippa.

It was stupid.

It was so stupid.

Gods, she was so stupid.

The tears fell from Triss’ eyes and Philippa shushed her gently, giving her hand a little squeeze and pressing it harder against her chest, fingers splayed between the gaps of hers.

It beats - “For you and only you.”

Triss nodded wordlessly, biting her lip to keep the sobs from escaping even though her shoulders shook with the effort.

Philippa kissed away her tears.

“And you have all of it.”

Triss buried her face into the crook of Philippa’s neck and Philippa wrapped the younger sorceress in her embrace.

“All of it.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the way that I’m learning to breathe.

The trees shed their autumn robes of fire red and golden yellow and the thick carpet of crisp leaves was soon replaced with a velvety bed of snow. Triss breathed in the sweetness of the air with a blissful smile, the chill sending goosebumps across her arms almost deliciously. 

She had always loved everything about winter - the crisp air, the shimmering drift of snowflakes, the refreshing crunch of the snow beneath her feet - there was a tranquility and a sense of freedom that she associated with the whiteness of winter.

The gentle flapping of wings caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see a grey owl soar through the air, dipping down gently as it drew closer before landing on her shoulder. 

“Hitching a ride?” Triss twisted her head and placed a tender kiss on its beak. “Are you tired already?”

Philippa gave her a piercing look and let out a quiet hoot in response before she started fluffing her feathers. Triss smiled fondly and rubbed the top of her head, relishing the softness of her feathers. Philippa hunkered down at her touch and shifted slightly closer to Triss’ cheek, eyes sliding close in comfort.

Triss continued on her way, the rhythm of her footsteps lulling Philippa into a semi-conscious state and she nestled her head against the welcome warmth of Triss’ cheek. Triss slowed to a stop at the steps of the staircase leading from the garden to the castle of Montecalvo and turned to look once more across the blanket of snow.

She inhaled deeply and her heart swelled at the same time.

“I love you very much,” she whispered to the sky.

Philippa nuzzled her chin affectionately, a hoot rumbling in her chest, and Triss had never felt more content.

#merihart #philippa eilhart #triss merigold #philippa eilhart x triss merigold #philippa x triss #the witcher #lyrics from learning to breathe by switchfoot #because everything i've written on here so far is so angsty it's depressing #so here have a happier one even if it's not like super fluffy or whatever #i do wanna try to write a crack drabble with the whole lodge #i'm not as good writing fluff imo #but i liked autumn and winter but not so much spring and summer #it's telling that i wrote this drabble backwards starting from winter backwards to spring lol

[alittlebitgoofy]

dog days are over (kyara)

the kyara backstory prequel to glass wings that i wanted to get around to writing but it was a gift for @dollalpaca in an exchange i did with some friends :)

ao3 link

Pain. A shooting pain that had her limping to the nearest light. How Kyne was still on her feet was a mystery, and she wracked her brain for an answer as to how she’s made it this far. Losing her pack was one thing. Falling from a tree when trying to gain height was another. Randomly walking trying to find anyone around? A dangerous idea, but at that point she would risk death if she couldn’t find a way to fix up her broken, bleeding paws.

Most people were scared of wolves, the thought was in the back of Kyne’s head. She knew it was likely if anyone found her that they would run or hurt her more. People were cruel, people outside of the pack were not to be trusted. That lesson had been instilled in her as a child. But risking it was her best chance, these wounds couldn’t heal naturally and she had no pack to turn to.

Only a few more steps and her legs gave out. All she could do was whimper as she collapsed, a heap of bloody fur and small yelps. Nothing compared to the fearsome beasts her kind were known to be. Hurt, alone and not sure she would survive the night. Kyne felt herself slowly giving in to the fatigue pulling her in. Falling asleep might spell her demise but the warmth felt so inviting she couldn’t help but fall in.

Kiara heard soft whimpers, panting, and then silence. It was a terrifying combination. Someone too hurt to alert anyone, then falling silent. Something was wrong. Someone needed help. She flew around the trees, looking for anything or anyone but couldn’t find anything. That was before another, weaker whimper came from below. All she saw was a pile of fur. Getting closer, the blood was obvious.

A werewolf, one who was on the brink of death by the looks of it. Still breathing, although barely. They were still bleeding, showing no signs of stopping. Their paws were covered in little scrapes and specks of blood. One stuck out, it fell in the opposite direction to the other ones, stiff and not covered in blood. Strange.

They looked small enough, not as big as the stories made wolves sound. It might have been the way they hunched over, curled as small as the pain allowed them, as if trying to appear weaker? Maybe to grasp a bit of pity out of the person who found them? Kiara lifted them, noting the blood that dripped from the three paws as she did so. Although they were somewhat hefty due to their size, Kiara lifted them, flying to her house as quickly as possible. The wolf laid limp in her arms, Kiara cursing herself, barely able to contain another person’s weight as she flew but knowing she was in too deep at this point and needed to help the wolf. She couldn’t let an innocent creature die, although wolves were temperamental and could injure anyone if angered, they were innocent until proven otherwise.

Kiara just about managed to get the wolf into her house before they stirred. First, a slight movement in the less damaged front paw, slowly becoming more active before the wolf shot up. Eyes wide, staring at Kiara.

Kyne’s eyes could barely focus, holding contact on the figure in front of her but not able to distinguish any features. They stepped closer, leaning over to look over her bloody front paw. She yelped at the person applying pressure to it, wanting to swat them but the energy just wasn’t there. She had no choice but to let the person do whatever they were doing and hope it wasn’t going to hurt her anymore.

“Oh non ça se passera pas.” The words the person spoke made no sense to Kyne, but the panic in the tone and the grabbing of her paw inferred something bad. She didn’t have much time to ponder the meaning as the fairy got to work. Kiara worked at cleaning the most injured paw, washing off the dirt that made its way into the wound. It felt like years of medic training were finally worth it, no matter how much more exciting the guard training had seemed, the horror stories she got from Juice shook the desire from her rather quickly.

She felt a weak attempt to pull the paw from her hands, followed by the wolf lowering her head in shame. Almost as if begging for mercy from the hands of the person who was helping her. Kiara vaguely wondered if the blood loss had messed with her head and made her think she was still in danger. That might explain the small attempts to guard herself.

“Little wolf, I’m going to fix up your wounds okay? It might hurt a little but it’ll save you a lot of pain in the long run.” Kiara whispered to the wolf, noting how her ears flattened and her head stayed low. She didn’t attempt to pull away after, softly growling when something got too painful but never disrupting Kiara’s process.

Kyne felt her consciousness waning once more, the pain was mostly dull, not as distracting anymore. But the way Kiara held her made it easier to relax, ignoring the pain and letting the fairy do her work.

Kiara finished bandaging up the paw and clearing out all the wounds, noting that the wolf had fallen unconscious again. Considering how injured she was, Kiara lifted the mass of fluff and placed her onto her bed to rest, herself resting on the sofa she used to help with the minor injuries so they had a place to sit.

Watching the sleeping wolf, Kiara felt anxiety building up. She hoped that they would be alright, not too scared when they woke again. Something felt different, that they wouldn’t hurt her but the thought still lingered. She could only push it back, unknowingly falling asleep to thoughts of what would happen next.

---

Kyne spent the next few days vaguely aware of her lack of mobility but still trying to move regardless. Waking up on an unfamiliar bed still in her wolf form was a shock. The attempts to turn human failed miserably, the pain coming back with any movement. Her saviour had come in the form of a fairy. She noticed how tall she was, the way she had to lean over to check on Kyne’s wounds. Her eyes were kind, shutting down the anxiety that had been building about being found by the wrong person.

Kiara couldn’t communicate fully with the wolf but they made it work, days of one-sided conversation, Kyne not able to turn human again until she had healed up enough. The lack of understanding didn’t stop her from being vocal, light growls and barks were enough to convey limited emotions. Kiara introduced herself, realising her mistake when Kyne's only response was a growl. Somehow, their conversations thrived still. Maybe it was the lack of movement but Kyne found herself listening more than ever before. Kiara captured her attention in a way no one had before. It didn’t hurt that she was truly a beauty to watch the existence of. The more time the wolf spent looking at her impossibly long legs the more she wished she could talk, have a full conversation with the pretty fairy.

“Is your paw feeling any better? You’ve been lively enough, it mustn't be bothering you that badly.” Kiara regarded the wolf with a smirk. Kyne had gone off on the wolf equivalent of a rant. Although she understood none of it, Kiara nodded along and let her get out whatever energy she needed to. Although it was difficult to stay serious and listen when you were the subject of lots of barks and growls all in different tones and inflections.

Kyne nodded, surprised by how much she’d healed over the past few days. Kiara had tended to the worst wound, keeping an eye on the light scratches and clear bruising but focusing her attention on caring for the badly injured paw. Kyne had regained some limited movement, not without a good dose of pain though. Healing didn’t mean healed and she still flinched every time Kiara touched it to check the bandages or clear the wound before adding fresh bandages.

She prepared herself for another round of Kiara not understanding her response, speaking up for the off-chance some understanding could come out of it.

“It’s better, still hurts every time I move it though. You’ve helped it heal quickly though.”

Kiara was taken aback, the wolf had spoken in actual words. Before she could comment, a flash shone in front of her before a human sat in the wolf’s place. She was cuter than Kiara had thought, her eyes held a mischievous glint that wasn’t present on the wolf but they were similar, warm and dark brown.

Kyne took a few seconds to register everything that had happened. She was in her human form suddenly after days of trying and failing? Not the best idea. That was until the wounds made themselves known on her human body. It was a majority of small scratches and bruises, nothing too serious until the arm. Kyne had no idea how badly she had injured her paw, only that it hurt a lot and was bleeding. The darker bruise and lack of movement in her wrist made it clear, her arm was out of order for at least another few days.

“I’m Kyne by the way, and yes I can speak in more than growls and barks. I just thought it would be fun.” The sarcasm dripping off her voice towards the end sent Kiara into laughter. Something about human Kyne was eye-catching, she had an energy that caught the fairy’s attention immediately, making her wonder if this was going to be a long-term infatuation or just the shock of finally talking to her properly. It helped that she was cute, Kiara didn’t know how to act when the cute werewolf was also funny. One person, yet so many things are good about her.

“So how did you end up bleeding in the middle of a forest exactly?” The question broke any tension or awkwardness in the air. It was to the point and quick, something that endeared Kyne even more towards the pixie.

Kyne paused, eyes shifting, not able to explain it and hold eye contact with Kiara. Any confidence she had quickly flew out the window when remembering exactly what happened.

“I lost my pack so I tried to gain height, climbed up to try and find them but ended up slipping out and bashing my paw on a bunch of branches before landing on it.” Despite the embarrassing story, her confidence returned as the cute fairy clearly found her funny. Letting out a laugh that made Kyne almost melt. That was the boost she needed to talk to her more casually, lightly flirting over the next few minutes and trying to get any reaction out of the fairy.

---

Kyne had largely learnt to appreciate the unique qualities that came with being a werewolf, she was a lot more observant than the average person and had quick enough reflexes to keep her out of danger. There were some drawbacks, like when a wolf bonded with someone it made their instinct kick in and the idea of leaving them was painful. Of course, her relationship with Kiara had become complicated. Kyne didn’t have the courage to explain to her exactly what had happened. But she realised that if her pack found her it would be almost impossible to go back. The second romantic feelings got involved was the downfall of her kind. Maybe it was the pack mentality that caused it? But she was too attached to Kiara to leave unless rejected.

She was different, kind and caring but had a similar sense of humour to Kyne, loving the sarcasm and fighting back with her own dramatics that made the wolf burst into laughter every single time.

They were currently patrolling, looking for any signs of her pack. It hurt to walk on her paws so Kyne was relegated to trying to keep up with a flying fairy on foot. The lack of signs was slowly getting to her. The possibility her pack had left her becoming more likely and ready to send her spiralling if she dwelled on the thought.

“Kyne! I found some tracks! They must have been nearby.” Kiara suddenly flew into her line of sight, grinning excitedly. She dragged her arm to quickly show her find, eyes flickering between Kyne and the paw prints for any type of reaction.

Kyne, without warning, shifted into her wolf form, wincing as she walked on her wounded paw but realising she could likely find where they had gone. She sniffed the tracks, jolting up at the familiar scent and racing towards it. Kiara followed closely behind, startled from how fast Kyne started to go when in her wolf form. The adrenaline stopped the throbbing pain in her paw for long enough to reach the end of the tracks, the scent still strongly hanging in the air. Kyne glanced around, not able to find anything to pin in the specific direction of her pack. Only aware they were close by.

A loud growl caught the pair’s attention as a wolf who was a lot taller than Kyne suddenly showed up. Kiara realised that Kyne was quite small for a wolf. She was fast, but a good deal smaller than her friend. She barely managed to hit Kiara’s waist in height. Although she had quite long legs it was smaller than the large, fearsome wolves she’d been told about in the past and it was starting to make sense.

The wolves let out a series of quick barks and growls, Kiara assumed they were having a conversation. It was amusing to watch unfold, Kyne continuing to speak with her hands even when a wolf, swishing her tail for emphasis while explaining something. She paused after a low growl from the other wolf, slowly plodding her way back to Kiara, sitting by her side and curling her tail around her legs.

“So, she’s bonded with you after a week?” The other wolf asked, eyeing up Kyne as her tail tightened around the fairy’s legs.

“Yes. I know it’s sudden but I can’t help but feel like I belong with her. I can’t deal with the thought of anything happening to someone this sweet, even if she is a bit rough around the edges.” Kyne glanced up at Kiara, who shot back a look of pure confusion. Her hands found their way to Kyne’s head. Ruffling up her fur before laughing at the mess she had made.

“Like you're not? You’re lying, your ears are twitching. Don’t hide it. You love her, that’s not exactly what I expected to see but at least you’re safe. I’ll tell the others what happened. I’ll miss you but I’m happy you found someone you belong with.”

Kyne froze as she realised the magnitude of everything she had insinuated. She was leaving her pack for a girl she hadn’t known for long. Was this really the right choice? One look at Kiara, more apprehensive than she would normally allow herself and she knew. It would take something drastic to separate them now. She had to stay.

Kyne nodded at the other wolf, letting them leave with a loud howl to communicate her feelings about the departure. It was bittersweet but she felt better with Kiara than in her whole life with the pack. Some things changed, she only hoped this was the right choice and that things would change for the better.

---

“So, you’re telling me you found an injured werewolf and now you’re her girlfriend?” The utter bafflement in Juice’s voice would normally make Kiara laugh, poking fun at her friend for being so dramatic. But the seriousness in her tone was something that made even her childhood friend stop and try to explain herself in the best way.

There was something different about the smaller fairy. Ever since she had been appointed leader, there was no more fun in her. The quiet, silly girl that played with her was long gone but the glimpses still came through. Juice’s stare was icy but it didn’t affect Kiara. It couldn’t, knowing all of Juice’s tricks to intimidate others into listening to her and respecting her authority. Although it made sense why she did it, the idea of her friend turning into someone she wasn’t hurt Kiara just a bit. Why couldn’t she just be happy for her?

“I know you’re serious about her, and I know you have good judgement. But these wolves are dangerous and having one around is a horrible idea.” There it was, the small glimpse of her old friend. Juice cared, she never stopped, but balancing her duty and feelings wasn’t something she knew how to do. Kiara knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation. She knew how to wear down the other fairy and quickly put her idea into action.

“You’ve never met her and you’re telling me she’s dangerous? You have no proof to back it up, Juicy.” The change of expression made Kiara know she’d gotten through. The nickname felt foreign on her tongue after a while of not being as close as they used to be. But Juice lost all her walls for a brief moment. Glancing away in defeat and nodding in agreement.

“Okay. If she’s that good to you then I won’t stop you. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” The softer voice made Kiara smile. There was her friend. She was happy for her under all the toughness. The concern was unwarranted but appreciated. Kiara smiled, offering to bring Kyne to Juice for them to meet properly. Despite the shock, Juice agreed, following Kiara to her house, where Kyne was still staying.

“Kyne! I want you to meet someone.”

Kyne’s face lit up at the arrival of the fairy, falling into something more neutral as she realised she wasn’t alone. The first thing she noticed about the pair was the height difference. Kiara easily towered over anyone but even Kyne was a good deal taller than her friend. Although she looked tiny, she had a serious aura that shook Kyne slightly. There looked to be a lot more to her than what she saw but now wasn’t the time to dig into that.

“This is Juice, she’s the leader I was telling you about.“ Kiara smiled, pulling the wolf and fairy over to each other to interact more. They could only stare at each other, neither wanting to say anything before the other. Kiara sensed the stalemate, acting quickly to break it before any complication arose.

“Kiki had a lot to say about you.” Juice muttered out after a lot of prompting. Her eyes were not connecting with Kyne as she spoke. If anything that made the werewolf feel better. At least she wasn’t the only introvert forced into conversation by Kiara.

“Good things I hope? Ki has a habit for being a bit more dramatic than necessary so I can’t say everything she said was fully true.” The tension broke as the pair laughed at the expense of the tall fairy. Although she couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed with the look of amusement on Kyne’s face as she laughed. It melted her heart to see her two favourite people getting along.

“She’s always been like that, when we were kids she would swear it was the end of the world if one of us got slightly hurt. But we love her in spite of that.” Juice smiled, relaxing slightly into accepting Kyne’s company without her normal icy exterior. They quickly fell into a conversation of Kiara’s embarrassing childhood moments and weird habits. Although it was specifically about her, Kiara didn’t mind as long as the two started to get along well. It made sense, there were similarities between Juice and Kyne. Namely being quite introverted and hiding their emotions from everyone apart from someone very close to them.

“Are you staying here now? I’m sure we can find a way to help you adapt to the village better if you need it.” At that offer, Kyne knew the change was for the better. Kiara was everything she needed and a new friend wasn’t such a bad thing. The future would bring a lot she wasn’t prepared for yet, but with Kiara at her side it felt like nothing could stop them. Not now, not ever.

#kyara #rpdr fanfiction #online kyne #onlinekyne #kiara schatzi #kiara x kyne #glass wings fic #fantasy au

[mariahschoices]

Beloved

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader/OC

Word Count: 3902

Theme: Fluff/Smut

This is part 2 of this story: https://mariahschoices.tumblr.com/post/189983728802/unloveable

You couldn’t help the shock to your system, as Bakugo admitted that you had been right all of those years ago. Surely there was some misunderstanding.

“I may be a top hero, but being on top isn’t everything. It took me a long time to realize that, actually. I think...” he paused, seeming to realize how out of character he was acting by admitting his unhappiness to someone who he barely knew.

You gave him a soft smile. You didn’t really feel sorry for him, after all he had all of the ingredients he needed to make a great life. You figured he was just too much of a stubborn ass to seek out what he really needed to find true happiness in life.

“It’s actually my birthday today,” he continued, changing the subject to more optimistic topics.

“Oh, sh- shoot! I’m sorry. I’m sure you have better things to be doing today than sitting here with me. Thank you again for meeting up with me. I’m sorry for taking time away from your birthday plans-”

“Actually, meeting you for coffee today was my only birthday plan,” he interrupted with a grunt, peeling the drink label off from his coffee cup as a distraction.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but you supposed it made sense considering the somber mood than emanated from the man.

“Well, if you want, I mean I’m sure you’d rather do something with your friends, but...” you bit your lip slightly, feeling compelled to ask to hothead to hang out, even though you felt it was probably against your better judgement.

“We can do something together. Hang out. Whatever you want. I’m still on leave from work since I’m in recovery, and I haven’t done anything fun for a while,” you admitted, a slight blush smattering across your cheeks at your confession.

Bakugo seemed to mull over your words for too long. As you were about to take back your offer in an effort to save face, Bakugo mumbled his response.

“Okay.”

Okay? You could work with “okay.” Hell, it was more than you had expected from him.

“Okay,” you repeated at him, sealing your decision with a small smile.

________________________________________

Bakugo was an avid rock climber, and even though you were terrified of heights, you agreed to let him pick the activity for the two of you. It was his birthday, after all. He had his personal fair share of ropes, carabiners, and other various equipment, choosing to forego a climbing gym in favor of the open air. Upon arriving cliffside, he finally seemed to notice the nervous buzz that continued to grow around you with each passing moment.

“Everything okay?” he eyed you, gauging the terrified look in your eyes with mostly amusement, sprinkled with a mild dash of concern.

“Yea, I think so. I’ve never done this before. I’m actually terrified of heights.”

You avoided all eye contact with him at your admission, choosing to stare at his shoes instead. They were black with an orange “X” across the top, matching his hero costume. He must have had them custom made.

“Tch. Shitty woman! Why would agree to do this then?!” he started packing up his climbing materials, conceding that this excursion probably wasn’t going to happen anymore.

Without thinking, you reached out, grasping his muscled forearm to halt his actions. You hadn’t thought he would take your feelings into consideration. It had surprised you, and you decided that you wanted to do this for him.

“No, no. Please. I want to do this with you,” you pleaded, looking into the endless red pools that were his eyes.

“Fine, we’ll do the short side of the cliff, then.”

Without another word, he gathered his things and headed down the dirt path to your new destination.

Once you arrived at the designated area, he paused to strap you into a harness, snap on your helmet, and make sure that everything was thoroughly secured before getting himself ready. His quick and efficient movements warmed your belly and caused a stinging pink blush to overtake your cheeks. You had to pinch your inner arm to get yourself under control. He probably just didn’t want to have to deal with the likely outcome of having to scrape your mangled body off the ground later if he risked letting a novice like yourself get geared up on your own.

Bakugo coached you through the entire experience, a soft look of pride on his face as you reached the top of cliffside. The wooded area you were in was well known for its breathtaking views of the river valley, and hiking was something you were much more comfortable with. Bakugo stashed your gear in his backpack as you agreed to hike further up to get a better view of your surroundings.

By the time the two of you reached the top, the sun was starting to set, and the beauty of the landscape that surrounded you nearly took your breath away. The moment seemed to bring a sense of peace and hopefulness that you hadn’t really felt since your husband passed away. You regretfully had isolated yourself from your work, your family, and your friends to mourn your loss alone until you had finally decided to seek help.

Bakugo interrupted your silent reverie. “So, twelve steps, huh? Not that it’s really any of my business, but is there anyone else you need to apologize to?” Bakugo asked curiously, unable to keep the question inside of him any longer.

“Actually, just one,” you blushed, wondering if you should admit the truth to him. “I didn’t really get into much trouble in school, and I got married so young that there wasn’t too much that occurred for me to have any need to apologize. I guess I’m pretty boring,” you admitted, almost ashamed as you compared yourself to such an accomplished man as Bakugo.

“So, who then?” he continued, unknowingly prying into a memory that was directly related to the man himself.

“Monoma,” you chuckled, preparing yourself for Bakugo’s reaction to your admittance. “I punched him actually, back at U.A. Gave him a fat lip.”

“Holy shit, you’re serious? What did that idiot do to you?” Bakugo couldn’t contain his shock that such a sweet, er, boring extra had done such a thing, though it had probably been deserved, considering who it was.

“Erm,” you bit your lip slightly in hesitation, “well, it was about you. He said that he was better than you and that you’d never achieve anything with your head so far up your-” you stopped before you could embarass yourself any further, risking a glance at Bakugo.

The soft colors of the sunset reflected in his eyes as they stared down into your own, a soft smile overtaking his face at your confession. You really were something else. Though his birthday hadn’t gone anything like he’d planned, he was grateful for how it’d turned out.

________________________________________

By the time the two of you approached the base of your climb, the moon and stars were already out. You were both covered in a sheen of cooling sweat, and your stomach rumbled with hollow rebellion, so loud that Bakugo himself could hear it. A genuine chuckle erupted from his chest, surprising you.

“If you’re hungry, I can feed you. A reward for facing your fear.”

Bakugo was eternally grateful that it was already too dark outside for you to see the tips of his ears turn red. He couldn’t believe that he was inviting you back to his apartment, even for the innocent enough reason as to fill your stomachs.

“Uh, sure, if you don’t mind? I mean I could pick something up on the way home if you’d rather-”

“I hope you like it spicy,” he interrupted your protest, thereby deciding your plans for the evening.

________________________________________

After the two of you reconnected, you found yourself spending more and more time with Bakugo. He surprised you with how considerate and caring he could be. it was a side that you had never known before, even though you had grown up alongside each other. His good mood from spending time with you began to bleed out into his work life as well, causing him to blow up less during interviews, and public opinion polls were even starting to place the hero above his long-time rival, Deku.

Bakugo supported your sobriety, and you found each other to be a pillar of strength whenever days were particularly hard, whether that be with work or your personal lives. He helped you get to point where you were ready to go back to work, and he even began inviting you to hero events where plus ones were encouraged. Being in your company made the otherwise unbearable evenings seem almost fun.

On one such evening, Bakugo watched from afar as you loaded up your plate with bite-sized appetizers. You looked breathtaking in your elegant dress, your soft face framed with tendrils of hair that completed your stylish updo. Kirishima interrupted Bakugo’s ogling as he followed his line of sight, giving a knowing shove to his shoulder.

“You’ve got to tell her, man.”

“Tell who what, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grunted, distracting himself by rendering his attention to the band that played on stage.

“You know who, and you know what. And you can drum better than these dudes after a double shift patrolling, so don’t try to act like you’re interested.” Kirishima continued, effectively serving to shut him up. ‘

“You two spend all of your free time together. We haven’t even had a guys night in months. It’s time, man.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up, man. She was married, after all. She’s.... different. I feel different when I’m around her.”

Kirishima’s eyes darted across the room, finding his wife standing beside you, engaged in gossip and weighing in on what dishes were your favorites. “I know exactly what you mean, man. I found someone who made me feel different too. And you know what I did? I married her.”

________________________________________

Bakugo was no pussy. He knew Kirishima was right, and he knew that he had to confess to you. You were an amazing woman, and if he didn’t at least try, he knew someone else would. He tried to ignore the fear and anxiety that rattled his insides. He knew that you cared for him, but he didn’t know to what extent. And he had never wanted more with a woman. He never wanted to walk beside of someone - to belong to someone, and have them belong to him - the way that he wanted with you. The new feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

You had agreed before that night’s event to stay with Bakugo at his apartment after the evening commenced. The event wouldn’t be over until late, and since both of you planned on having a few drinks, he didn’t want to risk you trying to make it back to your place on your own. The overwhelming need to protect and care you had convinced him to make the offer, even before he’d decided to admit his feelings to you. He just hoped he wasn’t about to ruin things.

You sat at his kitchen island, watching as he poured a drink for the both of you. His own would be a dose of liquid courage, and you simply wanted to enjoy yourself now that you were in the safety of his apartment.

You always felt safe around Bakugo. Safe and happy. You felt feelings around him that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched as he made his way around to the other side of the kitchen island. His suit jacket had been removed, and the top two buttons of his white button-down had been undone. You couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread within you from the center of your body, making its way outward and making you feel too hot, still in your formal dress.

“Bak-”

“I have to tell-” he interrupted, stopping you from probably saying something that you shouldn’t. You couldn’t help the way that being around him like this, being beside of him all night like you were his, was making you feel.

“Go ahead, sorry,” you encouraged him to continue.

“I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable by saying this, and you don’t have to say anything back, but... I have feelings for you,” he admitted, getting it all out without even taking a breath, as if taking a pause would deter him from admitting it. Seeing that you didn’t look upset, he decided to continue.

“These last months, spending time with you, have been the happiest times of my life. I feel like I can be myself with you. A better version of myself. You... make me better,” he finally finished, a blush overtaking his face as he paused to take a long swallow of his drink. There. At least now his feelings were out in the open for you to do with as you pleased.

“Bakugo-” you started, not really knowing what to say as his feelings took you by surprise. You could have never in your wildest dreams imagined that he felt the same way that you did. The hard, unyielding, “doesn’t need anyone” hero, Mr. Ground Zero, wanted her? Maybe even loved her?

“You don’t have to say anything. Please. We’ve both been drinking. I can take the couch, you can have my bed, or if that makes you uncomfortable....”

“Bakugo-” you interrupted. He seemed like he might be spiraling. You’d never seen him like this. It was absolutely adorable, and you decided to put the poor man out of his misery.

“Bakugo,” he stopped, letting you finish what you had to say. “I feel the same way. I’ve loved spending time with you and getting to know you better. I want you,” you smiled, your eyes twinkling as you gauged his flustered reaction with adoration.

He made his way to your side of the island, taking your face between his hands, softly holding onto you as if you might break or disappear at any moment. He leaned in to taste your lips, causing you to softly gasp against him. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue between your open mouth, causing it to slide against your own in a battle for dominance.

Your own hands acted without thinking, reaching out to touch his chest, his broad shoulders forming a solid wall in front of you. Your fingers slipped to touch his bare skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, and he let out a deep groan from within. You could feel his heart battering under your right hand like a drum, and you knew that your own heart matched his, in a combination of nerves and excitement that this was finally happening.

He drew back to look into your eyes, and was met with a look of pure lust as he took in your slightly opened mouth, panting and gasping for air. His hand moved around to the back of your head, tangling in the soft strands of your hair and pulling it undone with a gentle tug.

“I want you. Can I take you to bed?” he urged, his voice taking on a husky tone that caused heat to pool into your underwear.

Quickly nodding in response to his request, he picked you up off of the stool you sat on, his strong arms holding onto you as if you were light as a pillow. Your legs wrapped around his body as your hands continued their journey, making your way down his arms and feeling him up, causing a cocky smirk to grace his handsome face.

He leaned in as he made his way into the bedroom, pressing his lips to your neck to gently suckle the skin there, causing a gasp to tumble from your lips.

���You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered to you, causing you to redden even more than the actions that the two of you were performing.

He released your body, causing you to land softly on his bed. You were overwhelmed with the smell of him. Knowing that you were in the safe space where he laid every night, and thinking about what you were about to do in said bed, caused a sinful warmth to overtake you body, filling you with need for the man in front of you.

Bakugo crawled on top of you, a knee between your legs and the other resting outside of them, causing a delicious pressure to graze against your heat. He continued to kiss down your neck and across your exposed collarbone.

You untucked his dress shirt from his pants, pushing your fingers up and under to graze his chiseled abs. Fuck. You wanted this man and he was entirely too clothed right now. You pushed his chest, and having not expected it, he fell onto his back with a soft thump against the mattress. You straddled him, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, revealing his naked torso to you. You leaned down to mimic his earlier actions, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and chest. You could feel him grow harder underneath you, the thin material of your dress leaving very little in a way of a barrier.

Your body started to act out on its own, softly grinding against him as his erection pressed into your thigh. His hands slid under the bottom of your dress, grazing your entire body with his fingertips as he pulled to soft material over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie.

His eyes drank you in, and the look he gave you caused your core to throb. You unzipped his trousers, palming him through his underwear before you shuffled down the bed to pull his pants from his legs. The massive tent in his underwear caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you, a fresh wave of wetness joining your already damp underwear.

You crawled back up his body and you started to kneel, intending to remove the last barrier between you and his naked body, until his hand moved up, grazing against your inner thigh to softly cup your wet panties. He gently rubbed against you, causing a needy moan to escape your lips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I’ve let you take control for long enough, baby.”

He shoved his knee back between your thighs, flipping you over with ease as he leaned down to kiss your breasts, covered in the thin lace of your bra. Your nipples pushed against the fabric, and his lips gently bit down on them, locating them with ease, causing you to let out a long moan. His fingertips teased their way into the side of your panties, finally touching your bare sex and momentarily grazing where you wanted him the most.

He lifted his fingers back up to his lips, tasting your sweetness as he closed his eyes to savor the flavor. As he reopened his eyes again to look at you, he looked almost as if he were a man possessed. Driven by love and lust, he ripped your bra and panties off as if they were made of paper.

He made his way between your thighs, nipping and biting the soft skin along the way, before taking a long slow lick across your entire slit. He kissed the skin there as if he were kissing your mouth, making love to your pussy and letting you know just how long he had wanted to do this to you. He slid his tongue in and out of you, drinking down your essence as it spilled from your body. He moved his mouth up to gently suckle your clit, swirling circles around it and flicking back and forth with gentle pressure.

He leaned up to insert a finger into you, feeling as your body clamped around the digit. He massaged you from inside, adding another finger to prime your needy body for his cock.

He leaned over you again, coming face to face with you as his fingers continued their actions, kissing your lips as his hard member grazed against your lower belly. You threw your head back as your climax suddenly took over your body, causing a fresh wave of wetness to coat his fingers. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you.

He looked into your eyes again, asking for final permission, which you answered by grasping your hand around his firmness. You pumped him a few times, lining him up with the center of your body. He leaned down, pushing into you as you leaned your head back with a long moan. He groaned as he pushed himself all the way into you, feeling as your body clenched around him, still recovering from your recent orgasm. He nuzzled against the side of your face, kissing your lips and neck as he began began to move.

It was like his body was made for you. You were so deliciously filled, and as he began to pick up the pace, he held his hands under your hips to grip your ass, your body meeting his thrust for thrust. Your whole body was shaking in pleasure, and he felt himself rabidly losing control. He released one side of your body to reach the front of your body, massaging your clit as he continued to thrust into you, causing another orgasm to crash over you, your body squeezing him as he groaned out in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunted out, his movements getting sloppier as he chased his own release.

“Cum, Katsuki. Cum in me.”

His name leaving your lips with such sweet, sinful desire pushed him over the edge. He pushed one final thrust into you before he emptied himself inside you.

He leaned over the side of your body, remaining inside you as you each caught your breath. He rolled over onto his back, wrapping his arms around you to carry you with him, your head laying on his chest. You couldn’t contain the emotions that you felt for this man.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered, thinking back to that day in the lunch room, and about just how wrong you were. “You’re not unloveable, you are my beloved, and you mean so much to me.”

He couldn’t help the tears in his eyes at your words as he leaned up to kiss the top of your head to utter his response. “I love you, too.”

________________________________________

After the two of you had had a chance to catch your breath, you took a shower together, taking turns under the stream of water to wash each others backs and sneak little touches here and there, gradually getting each other worked up all over again. You stepped out of the shower, drying off with a towel and dressing yourself in one of Bakugo’s shirts, which was more like a dress on you.

You made your way over to the bed, snuggling into his side as he reached around, cheekily grabbing a handful of flesh. You looked up at him from under your eyelashes, softly touching his cheek as you engaged your quirk, slowing down time as the two of you consumed each other.

“No need to rush, Katsuki. We only have forever.”

#bnha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #soft bakugo #bnha imagines #bakugou scenarios #bnha writing #Katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #my fic #bakugou x reader

[eddieeatsass]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 6

Summary: Eddie gets an offer from his company to work in Barbados over the summer. Beautiful weather, all expenses paid trip, and a stay in a suite at one of the most highly rated resorts in the world. How could he say no? Unfortunately, Eddie soon realizes there were a lot of reasons to say no. His skin doesn’t take kindly to the harsh sun, his suite ends up being the size of a shoe box, and, oh yeah, it’s also a nudist resort. Pairing: Reddie (side Benverly and Stanlonbrough) Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language Read on AO3

The following month passed in a whirlwind. Eddie’s mind barely had time to keep up with the developments in his relationship with Richie. They were friends, Eddie believed, above all else, but they also acted like a couple. It had Eddie’s head throbbing any time he tried to think too hard on it.

Everything had been thrown into overdrive after their first encounter, the mutual eagerness for their explorations to continue didn’t go ignored. The second time they’d gotten together had been exactly two nights later; Richie had spent the entire day on the pool deck, eyeing Eddie up as overtly as possible. He’d made sure to put on a show no matter what he was doing. Swimming, putting on sunscreen, drinking a pina colada; he’d even managed to look sexy when him and Beverly had started a round of marco-polo in the pool. Eddie’d never thought that watching someone feel around blindly with their eyes screwed shut could be attractive, but Richie made it work.

The minute Eddie clocked out, Richie had been at his side, an eagerness evident in his step as he followed Eddie to his room. After the unnecessary commentary on how tiny Eddie’s room was, “A small room for a small person!”, Eddie had pushed Richie on to the bed, climbed into his lap, and eagerly reclaimed those lips that had been occupying his mind for the last 48 hours.

The second time had been just as mind blowing as the first, leaving Eddie’s face soaked with sweat and tears, and his cheeks sore from grinning so hard.

They’d fallen into a routine after that, seeking one another out whenever they could to relieve some of the tension that seemed to build up when they were away from each other.

Eddie had been amazed to find that there was no awkwardness between them, no necessity for them to build artificial comfort through small talk or forced jokes. Conversation always flowed freely, and at first Eddie had wondered if it was just a by-product of Richie’s easy-going nature. But the longer they spent time together, the more the truth solidified; Eddie and Richie had some sort of connection that couldn’t be denied. Although neither of them had pointed it out, its novelty making the idea of bringing attention to it intimidating, it was evident to everyone around them.

 Like the time Richie had stolen Eddie away in the middle of his shift, giving Stan a pleading look as they passed. Stan had just rolled his eyes and covered for Eddie while he got his ass pounded in the storage closet. Stan would have been upset if it’d been any other dimwitted co-worker dropping his responsibility so he could fuck during work hours; but it hadn’t been just any dimwitted co-worker, it’d been his dimwitted Eddie, so Stan let it slide.

There were also the countless nights that Beverly had been kicked out of her room so that Richie could have Eddie over for some midnight activities. Beverly hadn’t actually minded, it had given her continuous excuses to stay at Ben’s overnight. However, even if she hadn’t been in the pursuit of her own man, she’d still have been too enamored by Richie’s attachment to be upset.

Mike didn’t seem bothered by Eddie’s slightly more frazzled work ethic, either. Eddie still did his job efficiently enough, though there were definitely a few extra flustered moments where he’d drop a guest’s drink because he tripped over a pool noodle while staring at Richie. Mike, apparently, thought it endearing, and would just respond with a knowing grin and a wink.

The evidence continued to pile up that Eddie and Richie were more than just friends with benefits, but regardless, the two in question still refused to discuss the giant, confusing, suffocating, elephant in the room.

 It was exactly a month and three days into their unlabeled fling when Richie finally burst the ever-growing lump in Eddie’s chest.

It was Eddie’s day off, so he’d taken the opportunity to show Richie all the secret places he’d discovered while exploring the resort those past few weeks.

There was the abandoned section of the resort that had once been barred off for renovation, which had been cancelled once they’d discovered they lacked the funds needed to go through with it.

There was also the small hallway on the 5th floor that seemed to lead to nowhere, but if you went to the end of it you’d discover that the ‘wall’ there wasn’t a wall at all, but rather a thick partition of material light enough to push aside, revealing a small graveyard of vending machines.

Of course, their last stop was the arcade room that Stan had introduced to Eddie, which Richie went absolutely wild for. Even though the video games didn’t work, and the couch they pulled down from the wall was covered in an uncomfortable plastic sheet, Richie still liked the room for its atmosphere. Eddie wasn’t sure he understood, but he was ecstatic to see the happiness it brought Richie.

 Fifteen minutes later and Richie had Eddie bent over the pool table. Eddie could feel the bruises forming on his hip bones from where they continuously slammed into the edge of the pool table; mahogany turning his golden skin purple. The thought of having a visible memory of this moment, one he could sink his fingers into and pull dull ache from, was far more exhilarating than Eddie ever would have thought.

“Aaahhh- Richie!” Eddie cried out, his fingers desperately seeking purchase across the green wool surface.

“Shhhh, unless you wanna get caught, I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth of your quiet.” Richie chided, as if he wasn’t at all affected by the way Eddie’s hole tightened around him like a boa constrictor. Eddie clenched himself on purpose in retaliation, triumphant when he heard the stuttering of breath from behind him.

“Or maybe you do want to get caught.” Richie continued, lowering his voice along with his body as he draped himself across Eddie. “Hmm? Did we discover another kink of yours to add to the list?”

Eddie gritted his teeth together, refusing to confirm nor deny Richie’s suspicions. While the thought of someone walking in on them did excite him, it also made Eddie’s anxiety spike so high he nearly lost his boner. Thankfully, Richie wasn’t about to let that happen, reaching around Eddie and encircling his cock with a painfully light grip.

Eddie tried to thrust into Richie’s hold, throwing off the rhythm they’d built up and causing Richie to pound into him at an angle that nearly had Eddie seeing stars.

“Let’s see, so far we’ve discovered hair pulling…” Richie wove his fingers through Eddie’s shaggy brown locks and pulled his head back sharply. “nipple play…” Richie continued, removing his grasp from Eddie’s cock and ignoring the noises of protest as he lifted it up to begin pinching Eddie’s pink little bud. “And of course, we know you like it when I do this.” Richie voice lowered as his hand did the same, leaving Eddie’s hair in favor of wrapping around his jaw so he could turn Eddie’s head.

Richie began kissing Eddie in a way that might more accurately be described as licking into his mouth. It was messy, and rough with the way Richie held him in place, hand nearly curling around Eddie’s neck. But Eddie loved it. It reminded him of the first time they’d done this, how it had all started, how the taste of Richie’s mouth had opened him up to a whole new world. It was intoxicating, and the feeling was all encompassing enough that Eddie didn’t even realize the stuttering of Richie’s hips, which Eddie had learned was a telltale sign of his oncoming release.

Eddie didn’t notice that Richie was cumming until he was grunting into Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie could feel the wetness beginning to seep out around Richie’s still thrusting cock.

Eddie was about to offer that he could finish himself off if Richie was too tired, when suddenly he was being manhandled up on to the pool table and turned around so his back was pillowed by the soft tabletop. Richie’s hands were pushing his legs up and apart and his head swooping down between them before Eddie could even wrap his mind around what was happening.

“Want to taste myself in you.”

“Wha- oh fuck oh my god.” Eddie moaned out as Richie began to lap at his hole eagerly. No matter how many times they did this, Eddie couldn’t help losing himself to the sensation. Richie’s tongue was soft, and warm, and firm, but most importantly, it was skilled. Richie knew what he was doing, he knew how to make Eddie’s toes curl and his stomach flip.

“I- please, Rich- need to cum, please- ahhhh!” As Richie wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock, the smaller man’s back arched off the table.

Richie timed the flicks of his wrist with the flicks of his tongue, and before too long Eddie was cumming with a broken sob filling the room.

Eddie finally lowered his hips back down, noting a small tug in his lower back from holding the strained position for so long, but it was nothing but a whisper compared to the euphoria he felt flooding the rest of his body. His fingers and toes were tingling, buzzing with a flow of energy that emanated from his core. When he finally looked down at Richie, who’d pulled away from cleaning Eddie’s hole up, Eddie bursted out laughing.

“I don’t remember buying this brand of hair gel.” Richie commented, a small smirk disrupting his otherwise casual tone. He gazed up at Eddie from where he was still kneeling below him, Eddie’s cum shining evidently in Richie’s black curls.

“I am so sorry.” Eddie tried to get out between small bursts of giggles. He wanted to be sorry, he really did, but… it was just too funny a sight.

“No worries, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie stood up, hooking his palms around the backs of Eddie’s knees and pulling him to the very edge of the pool table, so he was flush with Richie’s body. “I think I can find it in me to forgive you.” He added softly, leaning in to capture Eddie’s lips in a tender kiss.

Eddie melted into Richie, but the warmth was gone before he’d even had a chance to get used to it.

“In fact, if you really wanna make it up to me,” Richie began, pulling away slowly until he came back into focus in Eddie’s view. “You’ll come out on the town with me tonight.”

Eddie’s heart hiccupped, something like a bolt of pure energy shooting down his limbs and leaving them tingling. It was true that in the time that Eddie had been in Barbados, he still hadn’t left the resort grounds.

 Eddie had let it slip last night while Richie’s hand was idly stroking his cock, his trash mouth rambling nonsense that only somewhat strung together. He’d mumbled something about Eddie’s eyes being brighter than the night lights along The Gap. Eddie was thoroughly confused, his post-orgasm brain struggling to understand why Richie was talking about a clothing company, until Richie seemed to notice Eddie’s muddled features.

Richie finally pulled his hand away from Eddie’s softening cock (for which Eddie was equally thankful and resentful) and propped himself up on an elbow so he could look down at Eddie.

“You haven’t been to St. Laurence Gap yet?” Richie asked, almost incredulously.

“Uhm… no?”

“Hmm, that’s weird… that’s usually the first place tourists go.” Richie joked.

There was a silence in which Richie laid back down beside Eddie, and the proximity prompted Eddie to continue, even though the conversation made him uncomfortable.

“I, uh, haven’t actually been to the city yet…”

“What!?” Richie shot up promptly, and the absurd reaction made Eddie laugh lightly before pushing him back down with a gentle shove to his chest.

“I haven’t had a reason to.” Eddie tried, knowing Richie would be able to see right through the excuse.

“Well… I mean you’re not missing much, I guess. The Gap is like, the only place worth checking out anyway.” Richie’s voice had taken on a softer tone, adjusting to the atmosphere he felt around him.

Eddie chewed on his lip for a bit before responding again.

“Is it safe?” He asked hesitantly.

“If you’re with the right people, yeah.” Richie assured him, and then added on after a beat. “I know it might feel a little overwhelming at first, but I promise it’s worth it just for the cultural experience alone. No pressure, of course, but if you ever wanted to go-”

They’d been cut off when a pounding at their door alerted them to Beverly’s presence, begging them to put on pants before she came in to grab the toiletries she needed for yet another night over at Ben’s.

 Eddie hopped off the pool table, squeezing by Richie in search for his clothes.

“Sure.” Eddie tried for nonchalance, but the quickening beat of his heart could probably be heard halfway across the world. He located his underwear and slipped them on over slim hips.

“It doesn’t have to be, like… a date or anything.” Richie added, his tone unreadable.

‘Do you want it to be a date?’ Eddie’s brain questioned loudly, his mouth betraying him when it said nothing of the like. Instead, Eddie wandered over to his t-shirt and pulled it on robotically before turning back to Richie.

“Yeah, no, of course.” Eddie responded, his lips tight as they pulled up into a tense smile.

Eddie could trail Richie’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly, clearly itching to say more but holding back. Eddie wanted to hear what he had to say, wanted to know if Richie was still tiptoeing around this thing between them or if he genuinely wanted to keep things casual. Eddie thought the second option might just kill him, so he opted to believe the first and keep his sanity.

Eddie spotted his shorts on top of the pinball machine and used it as the excuse for his final escape. If Richie wanted to continue to pretend their feelings for one another weren’t perceptible to anyone with eyes, then Eddie would need some time to recover between their little hookups, or he might just explode.

“Meet in the lobby at 7:00?” Eddie asked over his shoulder as he finally finished redressing.

“Uhh, yeah. See you then.”

Eddie turned to address Richie once more before leaving, and from his vantage point in the doorway, he couldn’t help but note how small Richie looked. He was still naked, not having moved from his spot in front of the pool table, and his usual air of cockiness seemed absent.

“I’m expecting you to show me a good time.” Eddie called to Richie.

Presented once again with their usual flirtatiousness, Richie seemed to fall back into himself, cocking an eyebrow at the challenge.

“It’ll be the best night you’ve ever had.” Richie assured him confidently.

Unbeknownst to him, Richie had already provided Eddie with the best night he’d ever had. He doubted anything could top that first time between them when Eddie finally got to experience what love and lust and want truly felt like.

But this might end up being a close second.

#reddie #reddie lemon #reddie smut #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie fic #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it fic #my posts #my writing #stripped bare